Breaking Meredith

by Izzy Sweet

  Reaching down to the side of the seat, I watch as the big blonde-haired, blue-eyed man grumbles as the seat slowly slides back.

  “Simon,” he grunts out at me.

  “Gabriel,” I say as I turn from him.

  I noticed tattoos crawling up past the collar of his prison release clothing. He’s wearing a white thermal undershirt under his tan top, and I have no doubt it’s covering up tattoos from his shoulders to his wrists. Sleeved, as Johnathan calls it.

  Not saying anything else, I put the SUV in drive and pull onto the road, heading downstate back towards Garden city.

  Glancing over briefly, I watch as he stares out the window. It’s the first time he’s seen the world like this in over ten years. A lot has changed in that time—the family, the politics, the internet even.

  He’s a relic that should have stayed in the damn past.

  Fifteen miles down the road in the middle of nowhere, I pull onto the side of the road again.

  Now’s as good as time as any.

  Putting the SUV in park, I reach into my suit and pull the .45 pistol from my under-the-arm holster.

  Pointing the gun at his chest, I say, “Get out.”

  Yet again he smirks at me from behind that thick beard of his. “You gonna make me do that right now? In the cold fucking wasteland out here?”

  “Last chance, Gabriel,” I say quietly.

  “Fuck you,” he says, but reaches for the door handle. “Let’s get this shit over with.”

  I keep ahold of my pistol as I step out of the vehicle myself. Walking around the front of the car. I come up to him. “Strip fully.”

  “Fuck you,” he growls.

  “I don’t give two shits about Lucifer’s directives,” I say without emotion. “I only care if you’re a liability.”

  “Again, fuck you,” he snarls.

  “Gabriel, it’s going to be dark in half an hour. Do you want to be left out here in the dark, dying from a couple of gut shots?” I ask.

  Pulling his two shirts over his head, he shrugs at me when he drops them to the hard ground. “Not like it will change much. I’ve been dead long enough now. I probably won’t notice the difference.”

  Like I thought, he’s full of tattoos. Each, I have no doubt, has a meaning to him and him alone.

  When he finally gets down to his bare feet, I motion with my gun. “Turn around slowly. Bend and cough.”

  “We’re going to go a couple of rounds, me and you, Simon. Soon as you’re healed up,” he says with a laugh.

  I suppose we will. It’s been fifteen years since we last went against each other in a fight.

  We’re about due, I suppose.

  He must have noticed my slower steps and the way I’m moving. He’s always been too perceptive.

  When I’m satisfied that I don’t see any gang affiliation tattoos or Aryan Nation brandings, I put the pistol back in its holster.

  “The black backpack in the back passenger seat is yours. You can get cleaned up at the first trucker’s stop we get to,” I say, walking back to the car, leaving his naked ass standing on the side of the road.

  He grabs the bag from the back and pulls out a pair of underwear, jeans, and a t-shirt.

  All packed up by Johnathan.

  Johnathan wanted to make sure his best friend was set up for his welcome home party. He even left Gabriel his special custom gun from before he went to prison.

  Johnathan, luckily enough for him, is doing better than I expected. The shot to his stomach wasn’t as serious as it first looked.

  Though, if not taken care of quickly, he would have died.

  The hospital stay for him was rushed because we were getting too much heat from local law enforcement, but he pulled through. That was a lot of bullets and explosions to just ignore. We paid off enough of the right people to make ourselves disappear, but it still wasn’t easy this time.

  There were quite a few dead bodies… not to mention a destroyed plane on an airstrip tarmac.

  When he’s finally dressed in clothes at last, Gabriel tucks himself back into the SUV. Pulling on his socks and boots as I pull away from the side of the road.

  “So, when did you get married, big brother?” he asks as he’s lacing the boots up.

  He’s noticed the wedding band on my left hand, just like everyone else has. I’m surprised he didn’t ask earlier, but it’s of no concern to me. “Two weeks ago.”

  “Well, fuck me. My big brother, the fucking asshole he is, got married and didn’t bother to invite the only living family he has left to the wedding,” he laughs.

  We may be related, but there’s only so much blood between us. He could give two shits about what I do with my life.

  I feel completely the same about him.

  “There hasn’t been a ceremony yet. And no, you’re not invited for when it happens. We have to wait until the baby is born first. Meredith’s ruling on that,” I say with a frown.

  If I had my way, I would have made her marry me in front of everyone the moment we knew she was pregnant.

  “I’m just trying to find the angle here, Simon. What leverage did you have on the poor woman?”

  I would shoot him if I was allowed to right now. Family or not.

  “None at all,” I say, and while that isn’t exactly true, Meredith will never leave my side now.

  We’re together in this.

  “Alright, whatever,” he says as he reaches up to scratch his thick beard. “I can’t wait to shave this shit off; it’s been too long since I’ve had a good razor.”

  “Then you might actually look like a partial human being for once…” I say.

  “Eh, fuck off. So, what’s the job?” he asks as he stares out the window.

  “What do you mean?” I ask him.

  “Why now? I figured I was supposed to rot in that cell for the rest of my life,” he says, turning to me.

  “If it was up to me, I would have left you there.”

  “I know. Love you too, big brother,” he chuckles.

  “Lucifer wants you out, and we’re finally in position to call in favors large enough to get you out.”

  “That’s a pretty big favor to call in, Simon. Who the fuck did you get on your payroll? The Governor? Cause that’s the… Fuck, you got your hand in the Governor’s pocket?” he asks skeptically.

  “Around his throat is more like it, but yes.”

  “So, what does Lucifer want?” he asks.

  “Mayhem. Bedlam... The Yakuza have blown up two people. One of them was Peter from the inner circle. The Russians are fucking playing nice at the worst time possible. The Saudis are going to be starting a war soon. We’ve lost a lot of the inner circle, and we’re not replacing them as fast as we’re losing them. He wants you to do what you do best.”

  “Death and destruction.”

  “Absolute death and destruction. Lucifer wants the state under his control.”

  Nodding his head, he leans it back into the headrest and closes his eyes. “I can do that.”

  The End

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  About Us

  Izzy Sweet & Sara Page – The one and same brain.

  Sean Moriarty — The real life alpha bad boy that Izzy tamed.

  Residing in Cincinnati, Ohio, Izzy and Sean are high school sweethearts that just celebrated their 11th wedding anniversary, though they’ve been together since they were teenagers – over fifteen years.

  Both avid and voracious readers, they share a great love and appreciation for a great story, and attribute their early role-playing days as the fledgling beginnings of their joint writing career.

  You can see more of our works at our website - www.dirtynothings.com

  Playlists

  Simon’s Playlist

  Available on Spotify - https://spoti.fi/2JLQPmI

  I Can’t Help Falling In Love - Perfume Genius

  Square Hammer - Ghost

  I’m Not Jesus - Apocalyptica, Corey Taylor

  Physical (You’re So) - Nine Inch Nails

  Here - Vast

  Closer - Asking Alexandria

  Killpop - Slipknot

  It’s No Good - In Flames

  America - Motionless In White

  Move It - Down & Dirty

  Four Walls - While She Sleeps

  Meredith’s Playlist

  Available on Spotify - https://spoti.fi/2K2c9DF

  Sail - Jack Trammell

  Look What You Made Me Do - The Animal In Me

  Control - Halsey

  Run For Your Life - K.Flay

  Bad Wolf - In This Moment

  Pit Of Fire - 3TEETH

  Turn You On - Stitched Up Heart

  Stitch In Time - Genitorturers

  Comfort You - Letters from the fire

  Gangsta - New Years Day

  Black Wedding (feat. Rob Halford) - In This Moment

  Also by Izzy and Sean

  Disciples

  Keeping Lily (Lucifer & Lily)

  Stealing Amy (Andrew & Amy)

  Buying Beth (Johnathan & Beth)

  The Pounding Hearts Series

  Banging Reaper (Chase & Avery)

  Slamming Demon (Brett & Mandy)

  Bucking Bear (Max & Grace)

  Breaking Beast (Alexander and Christy)

  By Sean Moriarty

  Gettin’ Lucky

  Gettin’ Dirty

  Star Joined Series

  Craving Maul

  Taming Ryock

  By Izzy Sweet

  Letting Him In

  Stepbrother Catfish

  Preview: Keeping Lily (Disciples 1)

  My husband traded me away to save his own life…

  And now I belong to the devil.

  One night and everything in my life changed. Two words and my world turned dark.

  “Take her.”

  Owing the most ruthless crime lord in Garden City five million dollars, my husband chose to trade me and my children away to save himself.

  I was on the cusp of freedom, so close to divorcing that scumbag I was married to.

  Now I’m enslaved to a man who is obsessed with me. A man so wicked and beautiful they call him Lucifer.

  So alluring, he makes the angels weep with envy. He’s so powerful, I can’t stop myself from bending to his will.

  He’s determined to master me, and he won’t rest until I give him all.

  He wants my light, and he wants my dark.

  He wants my body, and he wants my heart.

  But most of all, he wants the one thing I can’t give him. The one thing I can’t bear to part with…

  My soul.

  Chapter One

  Lucifer

  “Motherfucker!” Comes out of my mouth in a growl as I shake my hand.

  The punch to this piece of shit’s jaw sent tingling sensations up my arm.

  Mickey Dalton sputters gibberish out of his busted lips. “I… I… Swear I will pay… just gotta…”

  I’m tempted to keep this up, but fuck it. I have bigger fish to fry than this small time fucking gambler.

  Looking over the man’s shoulder, I nod to Andrew. “Ensure he fully understands how much he owes. Remove his pinky.”

  “Yes, sir.” Andrew nods.

  “Wha… No!” Mickey shouts as Andrew heads to the table where he keeps a black bag stowed.

  Turning around, I look at Simon, my right-hand man. “Where are we at with the other three files?”

  “Two have been collected on, the last I was waiting on your judgment.”

  “Marshall Dawson.”

  “He has flat out refused to cooperate with any of our attempts to collect. He believes his status is untouchable. He will give us no answer on where he was or what has happened to our money.”

  “Is he finally home?” I ask.

  “Arrived earlier tonight.”

  A metallic snip rings out into the room followed by a high-pitched scream. I turn to see Andrew wiping the blood on the guy’s t-shirt.

  Andrew raises his voice only slightly as he grabs the man by the throat. “Stop fucking squealing, asshole. Lucifer doesn’t like hearing pigs fucking about.”

  Walking out through the door and into the hall, I look to Simon. “How are the spreadsheets with Bart coming along?”

  “Clean, with everything accounted for…”

  “Yet, you still have doubts?” I ask him as we walk.

  “I do. I just can’t explain why.”

  “Keep an eye on him then.”

  Simon holds an umbrella over my head as we walk out of the abandoned hotel. The shattered glass door slams shut behind us as he ushers me into the sleek black Mercedes SUV.

  Getting comfortable in the backseat, I reach over and pull the file left on the other seat for me. The name Marshall Dawson is neatly typed on the tab.

  I let out a quiet sigh to myself. I knew this one was going to come back as a thorn in my side.

  Marshall Dawson is a waste of breathable air. The man used the connections he had with my father and another city boss to secure a loan from us. Five million in cash.

  Five fucking million dollars with nothing to show for it.

  Five fucking million dollars down the drain.

  I took this on as a favor to Sean O’Riley. A favor to a now dead and buried man.

  Shit like that doesn’t sit well with me. But when I went to the top to seek retribution, I was stonewalled. I was told the man who killed Sean, and all the surrounding issues, have been dealt with.

  Fuck that. I want my pound of flesh.

  Shaking my head, I open the file. It’s no use going down that train of thought right now. I can pursue it another time if I need to.

  I slowly flip through the pages we have on Marshall.

  It’s funny how we can put a file together on a person where he is reduced to twenty or so pages. I can see every payment he has made on his mortgage to how many times he has been in the overdraft with his bank.

  I look at his legal outstanding debts, and I look at the five-million-dollar debt he now owes to me personally. Anger is slowly creeping through my veins.

  Flipping through the pages, I look at his family life. Since he borrowed the money I have had one of my men keeping close tabs on his family. He is married to Lilith Merriweather, aged twenty-seven, and has two children, a boy and a girl. Both children under the age of seven.

  I look at the picture of Marshall for a long time as we drive through the late-night rain. The man is closer to my father’s age than mine. How did he marry a woman so young? Money and his slimy charm must have played a large part of it.

  I look through the pictures of his family quickly. The children are pretty in a child way. Blonde hair and blue eyes, they must take after their mother. Marshall must have married way out of his league.

  My fingers stop as the picture of his wi
fe comes up. Emerald green eyes, sensuous pink lips, high cheekbones, pale flawless skin and long blonde hair. All of those parts on their own would make her remarkable. Even if her face was overall plain just one of her features would stun a person. But together they make something otherworldly.

  She is beauty incarnate.

  Fingers tracing the lines of her lips, I frown. How the hell did that man marry a woman like this? I flip further through the pictures of her. There aren’t many, but what I do see shows me that she is unlike any other woman I have ever laid eyes on.

  She is perfection.

  There is a rather candid photo of her putting groceries in the back of her red Volvo station wagon. Her hair is all over the place. Her slender legs are encased in yoga pants, feet in Uggs. Her daughter looks like she is giving her problems as she tries to watch her and still put groceries in the back.

  Even this… domesticity calls to me.

  There is a glamour shot of some type mixed in and I can see just how haunting those eyes are. They are calling to me, pulling me in to get forever lost. I can feel my hands curling into themselves. She is pulling me from where I sit in the SUV.

  “Take me to Marshall’s, James,” I say to my driver.