Olivia, my soon-to-be niece, sits next to me chattering about her horse, Warrior. I smile at her and catch Emma’s sympathetic look. I shrug, not minding the little girl’s attention. She’s so damn cute.
Emma is getting huge and she looks uncomfortable, but cuter than hell.
Olivia winds down a bit and Emma asks her to go outside for a while. When we’re finally alone, Emma turns to me with a sigh. “Summer is difficult,” she says, her eyes full of humor. “I’m grateful for my mother in law.”
I laugh.
“Wait until you have two,” I say, and she rolls her eyes.
“I’ll wine about it,” She says, rubbing her round belly. “So,” she says, her eyes sly. “You have news for me?”
I nod, thinking about the route I’d chosen. Kyle had supported me every step of the way, and now things feel right.
“I need you to be my maid of honor.”
I see Em’s eyes light up, knowing it’s the first she’s heard. “You’re getting married?” she asks, her eyes dancing with joy. “Oh, yay!” She pulls me into a hug and I realize her belly is an obstacle between us.
“Oh, my gosh, how to you live with that?” I ask, “It’s like a basketball between us.”
She laughs. “It’s weird. But I have a feeling by the time I’m used to it, it’ll be gone and I’ll be listening to a screaming baby wishing I still had this,” she says, rubbing it again.
But I shake my head, not buying it for a second. “You’re going to be a great mom,” I say, knowing the words are true.
“I hope so,” She says, and I amend my statement.
“You already are.” Olivia is such a sweet girl, so full of life and love there’s no doubt in me that she’s thriving in an amazing home life. The love and warmth here is everything I would have wanted as a girl.
My eyes tear up a little and I remind myself that it’s a happy day. That the past is behind me, that I can choose to look back or I can face my future.
So I start spilling details to Emma. “I wanted to do something small. Just closest friends and family,” I say, meaning them. But I know she understands. I’ve confided some of my past to her, knowing that she’s a good friend. I’ve also told her she’s the best friend I’ve ever had, because my past meant never getting close to anyone for fear they’d find out what was happening to me at home.
And she’d come back to tell me she never really had friends either, but because she’d been so busy. Once her father passed away of cancer, her life became work, work, work until Kieran came in and changed everything.
But now it feels like I’ve known her forever. And, with Kyle’s words in my ears, I begin to plan my wedding to the man who’s changed everything for me. The man who’s not interested in where I’ve been. The man who’s interested in where I’m going.
No, the man who’s interested in where we’re going.
* * *
THE END
Bonus Content: Knight Brothers Series Part 3
PART 3
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by Natalia Banks
All rights reserved.
* * *
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
* * *
NOTE: This is a work of fiction, names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real life is coincidental. All characters in the story are 18 years of age or older. Intended reading audience 18+
Chapter 1
Jane
I’d thought going on this vacation would mean fun, maybe hot guys, maybe a chance at some adventure.
Ugh. This place is boring and I wish I’d never come. I should have stayed home. At home, I could have felt sorry for myself while making comfort food for myself in my kitchen. Instead, I’m feeling sorry for myself alone in a hotel room with obnoxiously loud neighbors.
Pulling the pillow around my ears like I’m some kind of face taco, I realize I can still hear them and glare at the ceiling like it’s responsible for my woes.
For fuck’s sake.
Are the walls paper thin here?
Should I bang on the wall and tell them to keep it down?
I stand up, feeling my white short shorts ride up a bit more. But it’s so hot here, there’s no way I’m going to put on something longer. I should have gone somewhere cooler. But no, I’d thought getting away from the coast and rain would be a good idea. Because I’m an idiot and I forgot how much I hate the heat.
The grass is greener, I guess.
Tugging an errant shoulder strap up, I place my ear against the wall of my quieter neighbor. He’s talking in a low voice and I imagine what he looks like. There’s something gritty about his voice, a gravely growl that’s enough to make my heart beat faster even as I imagine him as the monster of his own life’s story.
I bet he’s tall; he sounds tall. That sounds so stupid, I chide myself. How does someone sound tall?
But he does. I stand by it.
Turning, I lean on the wall and slide down. Running my hands through my black hair, I tug it back from my face. The front of my tank top gaps open and I roll my eyes. Sheesh. Dad would blow a gasket if he saw his sweet little darling dressed like this.
I guess that’s a curse no one thinks about when it comes to having a ‘good’ family. Yeah. ‘good’ family. Dad makes money and we’re upper crust. But it came with certain freedoms and many more restrictions. Daddy wanted me to be perfect all the time.
And now that I’m that good girl gone rogue, I’m sure he’ll have people hunting me down as soon as he catches wind that I’m gone. But I was smart; I covered my tail. I’ve got at least a week until he realizes something is wrong.
With my knees to my chest, I run my hands down my shins, feeling the many thin silver and gold rings on my fingers roll with the motion.
“Cami,” The guy on the other side of the wall says, and I turn to place my ear and hands on the it, feeling like some starved drama queen listening to her lover on the other side of a wall with his side ho’s. “I need you to tell my why you were following Olivia.”
And I hear the woman – Cami, I guess – answer. “She’s my daughter, Connor. I just wanted to see her.” The sound of her crying is so quiet, I’m not sure if I’m imagining it. Tucking an errant lock of hair behind my ear, I try not to think about how normal people act on vacation.
This is not it; I’m pretty sure.
Ear to the wall, zeroing in on the secrets of strangers?
No way. I’m fucking psycho or something.
“Were you planning on snatching her again?” he asks, his voice so low and controlled the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I shiver, wondering what the hell is going on. Every second that ticks by makes this whole scenario seem more and more off.
I mean, maybe they’re rehearsing for a play. Maybe they’re method actors. Maybe it’s a social experiment. Maybe I’m some nosy bitch who needs to get the fuck out of the hotel room and get some fresh air or see the sun to verify its actual existence.
“Why were you calling his work every day?” Connor - as Cami called him – sounds fucking scary.
I hear her make a noise, like a refusal to answer, but Connor doesn’t seem to be feeling too patient. “Were you trying to threaten him?” He asks and she must have shaken her head because he responds with tightly controlled anger that’s more frightening than someone losing their temper. “Why then, Cami?”
The vision of the man forms in my head. He’s tall, I established that. Older, like Kurt Russell, and just as menacing. And maybe just as good looking. Slim… no, scratch that. He’s buff. All brawny and terrifying like Arnold. Wait, no, that’s too far. Somewhere between Arnie and that dude who plays Thor, what’s his name…
Chris Hemsworth! I think. Is it?
<
br /> I puzzle over my pop culture references and listen with half my attention. Whoever the dude is, he’s clearly intent on getting information. And I’m going to sit here on the other side of the wall we share and just listen to my very own, real life soap opera.
Damn, I wish I had popcorn. That would make this all better. Except, I bet they’d hear me crunching on it and I might ruin their improv routine.
My fingers tangle in my hair and I quickly braid the mass of waves that hang to the middle of my back. Not that I’m going anywhere, I don’t need to pretty-up. I’m not even really wearing make-up; just that minimal amount I need to feel human. You know, that little bit that means you don’t have to cringe when you walk by a mirror.
Because that shit sucks.
I press my ear to the wall again. They’ve gotten pretty quiet. I wonder what I’m missing. Then the man talks and the very calm, very matter of fact words send an icy shiver down my spine. “I’m not letting you go until you tell me what I want to know.”
Chapter 2
Connor
I sit, sipping smooth scotch as I stare at Cami. She’s trembling, terrified, perhaps hating me with every fiber of her being, I’m sure. Good. Let her fear and hate me. Those emotions will stop her from doing something stupid.
Like running.
Like fighting.
Like calling for help.
What should I do with her? I’m here, holding the bag as always. I’m forever cleaning up after Kieran’s messy mistakes.
But I’ll clean up his messes. Like I always have.
He should be the one questioning her right now. He should be the one fixing this. He should have hunted her down, should have cornered her, threatened her; he should have secured his safety. And the safety of my niece, Olivia.
Cami already took Olivia once. She almost killed her that time. Does he really need it to happen again before he takes her seriously?
I glance at her, seeing how she’s cowering in her chair like I’m going to stoop to the level of hitting her. Son of a bitch, I don’t hit women. I’m many brands of monster, but a woman beater isn’t one of them. I draw the line at intimidation.
And true to form, I walk over and place both hands on either side of the back of her chair. Leaning down, I push my face near hers, leaving only inches between us. Deep in her dark blue eyes, I see anger, resentment, and the one I cherish; fear.
“Cami,” I say her name to make sure she’s paying full attention to me and every word that comes out of my mouth. I need her to know how serious this is. Her eyes are locked on mine and she’s hardly breathing.
I’d say she’s paying attention.
“I need you to tell my why you were following Olivia.” I say and her eyes begin to tear up like I’ve asked an impossible question. One she can’t possibly answer. Her eyes jolt to my arms as my fists lock on the chair and she sees the flex tighten every inch of my upper body.
“She’s my daughter, Connor. I just wanted to see her.” Her tears are flowing freely now and she’s staring at me as if she expects me of all people to get it. After the unforgivable shit she’s done, she better feel lucky I’ve got a no woman beating rule.
But there’s more information I need from her. Information that’ll keep me from sleeping. Information that has kept me from sleeping since she came back into our lives like a demolition derby champion intent on wrecking every last rig again.
I clench my jaw to keep my emotions in check. And she seems to not only see that, but correctly interpret it as well.
I ask her in a voice manufactured by tempered steel and control. “Were you planning on snatching her again?”
I stare her down again, silently warning her that I’ll know if she lies to me. And I won’t be so forgiving if she lies. No, a lie is a threat of harm and I’ll treat her accordingly.
Her lower lip drops and I see a flash of the beautiful woman Kieran had fallen in love with. But years of substance abuse and neglect have stripped her of all but the framework of someone who clearly used to be pretty. It’s both sad and fitting, really. All beauty eventually fades, it’s the nature of the game. And it’s the reason I prefer substance over looks. Brains over beauty.
But she is slowly shaking her head as if the thought of snatching Olivia had never even crossed her mind. And the shock in the very depths of her eyes leaves me believing it. After all, snatching Olivia before had been something she did while wasted on whatever drug she’d been indulging in at the time, and likely a generous helping of alcohol as well.
I lean a bit closer as I’ve drifted back a few inches to give her the impression I’m letting up and she can let her guard down. Once more, her eyes slash back and forth between mine and I know she’s got all attention on me.
Good.
“Why were you calling his work every day?” I ask, needing to know what she was thinking. It was clearly a power play. A way to fuck with his head, to silently threaten him, to let him know she was there and had no plans of leaving.
But it didn’t work.
Because Kieran is a fucking idiot. He thinks a single body guard on his daughter was enough to keep her safe from a dangerous, violent criminal with a history of snatching the girl right out from under his nose.
Cami doesn’t answer. Instead, she squeezes her eyes closed, forcing the tears in them to flow down her cheeks.
I give her chair a little shake, enough to jolt her but not unseat her. Enough to scare her. Enough to persuade her to answer me. Even if that answer is a squeak of denial as she shakes her head no with so much force, I’m sure it aches in her neck.
“Were you trying to threaten him?” I ask. It seems like the only reason. I mean, there’s no sane reason to stalk someone like that, so I’m still arguing details with a nut job, but I have to go with what I know.
She shakes her head, finally opening her eyes to look up at me. With several fast blinks, she clears the tears from her eyes.
I don’t feel bad for her. “Why then, Cami?” I ask, all my hate and anger threatening her with a lower growl in my words. I know she hears it. Every muscle in her body tightens up like I’m hurting her. And maybe I am. Maybe without even touching her, I’m subjecting her to as much torture as she’s inflicted on my damn family for the better part of the last decade.
But she stays silent. With wide eyes, she stares me down, no give in her expression. Which is unfortunate for her. Because she’s in for a nasty surprise.
One I’m ready to deliver.
“I’m not letting you go until you tell me what I want to know.”
Chapter 3
Jane
Wait, does that mean what I think it means?
I’m not letting you go until you tell me what I want to know.
Did our dreamy man stud with the killer voice kidnap this girl? This woman, I mean, who was stalking her own daughter – estranged daughter? Is that the right term? I think it is.
Wait, I’m lost. So mom was stalking daughter. Daughter she already “snatched,” according to sexy voice man hunk, at some point. She was also calling someone mentioned only as him.
Calling his work every day.
Trying to threaten him.
Who is this mystery man? I wonder. Is he the baby daddy? It would make sense. But why then is our hunky dream voice man the one cornering her? Was he hired by baby daddy to do the dirty work here? Or does he have some deeper vested interest in all of this?
And is he holding her hostage here?
Struggling with my internal sense of right and wrong, I press my ear to the wall again.
“Start talking, Cami,” He says, the silent threat in his voice so obvious, I wonder what he’ll do to her if she doesn’t do as he tells her. Would he hurt her? If he would, wouldn’t he have done it already?
It’s not like she’s been exactly forthcoming with information.
“What do you want me to say?” She asks and I want to slap her upside the head. Duh. He told you what he wants. He wants you to set his min
d at ease. He wants to know that the people he’s talking about are safe.
Oooh, maybe they’re his family! That could be why he’s so desperate for information. Geez, I’m glad he’s mad at her and not me. I’d be peeing my pants right now if I was in her seat. How terrifying must it be to be before such an angry man intent on getting information about his family?
Then again, he might be a hired goon. The family angle fits too conveniently. It’s like some damn novel and I’m caught hook, line and sinker.
And I still wish I had popcorn. Though I bet the crunching would make it impossible to hear anything.
“The truth, Cami,” The guy says, his anger growing in volume and intensity. I jolt a little, feeling the same shock I’d feel if someone yelled, even though he’s not being very loud at all. How does he do that? With little volume he manages to elicit the same fear I feel when someone screams in my face.
Damn.
“I just wanted to see her, Connor!” She says, her tone pleading as she begins crying again. I find myself wondering why she’s not screaming for help. This is too weird. If she was actually kidnapped, wouldn’t she call out for help? It’s got to be an improve thing.
“That’s my daughter,” she says, her voice straining and breaking with her obvious pain. “She doesn’t even know me. I just wanted to see her.” She dissolves into tears and I’m sure it’s method acting. It’s got to be. Maybe they’re some indie artists creating the next Sundance blockbuster.
Still, the story is too spectacular. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life. Women don’t lose custody of their kids, steal them away in the middle of the night, and answer to the voice of god in a hotel room with tissue thin walls.
It’s got to be something else.
Billionaire Bash: The Complete Steele Series Page 50
