by Maya Hughes
Killian: Where are you tonight?
Not that I had any room to talk when it came to inappropriate relationships. My screen lit up.
Me: Babysitting. I told you before. I’m reading my twentieth bedtime story and then I’m going to get some work done.
Killian: I want to see you tonight
Me: I just told you I’m babysitting
Killian: When you’re finished
Me: It might be late
Killian: I don’t care. I want to see you. You belong to me after work hours, until sunrise, remember?
Excitement bounced in my chest as I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The thing I’d been waiting for since I last saw him was finally here. I hadn’t been this excited since Christmas morning when I was eight and I finally got the tree house I’d begged for all year.
Leave it to my parents to make sure I was the only kid with a weather sealed treehouse with temperature control and running water. It became my perfect escape over the years. My home away from home. I filled it with books and pillows to go along with the miniature furniture they had up there.
I missed it. That was probably the thing I missed most from home. Well, that and my parents, of course. They, well more my mom, were always trying to meddle in my life. But I wouldn’t blame them now, what was happening was my own doing.
Me: Should I come to the apartment?
The little bubble popped up, which told me he was typing. As I waited for his message, Esme rummaged through the books, probably trying to find one that was at least double the length of the last one we read. The bubble popped up and disappeared at least four times before a message finally came through.
Killian: Yes
How hard was that? I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d worried maybe he was going to say ‘no’. Maybe he was going to call the whole thing off. Part of me wished he would. Wished he’d put me out of my misery and take the decision out of my hands because I didn’t have the strength to tell him no.
“Rachel, how about this one?” Esme said, holding up a book so big it looked like it was going to tip her over at any minute.
“Not on your life, Esme. How about this one?” I said, picking up a nice pop-up book. “It’s the last one before bed,” I said, waving it at her. She trudged over to me and I handed it to her. She settled into the bed and I sat beside her. I checked the time on my phone. Only a few more hours until I found out what was in store for me tonight. And I couldn’t wait.
23
KILLIAN
I got you what I could, but it’s not much,” Frankie said, holding out the envelope to me. Frankie stood in the living room of her brownstone. The envelope still felt like it would be a push toward something I didn’t know if I wanted anymore.
Frankie’s fuzzy bunny slippers were exchanged for a pair of purple dragon ones, complete with tiny sparkly wings. Her place was littered with things from our past. The life before I was the Boardroom Bastard, when I was just a stupid kid trying to fit in. A framed picture of me jumping on her back made me crack a smile. There was a copy of one of the video games she played for nearly two months straight sitting on her mantel. Then there was one item that caught my eye. Small and weathered all these years later, but it was here. I peered over at Frankie, who was staring me down. Her look teetered more on the edge of concern, not annoyance like it usually did.
“Are you finally ready to stop living in the past?” Frankie asked, putting the envelope on her lap.
“Are you?” I asked, pointing at a pressed flower on her bookshelf. To anyone else it was just that, but I knew where it was really from. Her corsage from the one and only date she had with Grim. She glanced up at the shelf and her cheeks turned beet red.
“That doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Just tell me what happened with Grim.”
“I’ll tell you what happened with Grim if you let me burn this envelope,” she said, her fingers wrapped around it.
I stared at the envelope for a long time and she shook it at me. Part of me wished I’d never asked her to help me. Never started down this path, but I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t stop until there was vengeance for Beth. I knew something had gone wrong. Her death wasn’t an accident.
“If you don’t want it,” she said, leaning back in her chair. I snatched it from her hand and slid the papers out. Black lines covered most of the document. It had been redacted. But there was one piece of information in there and it was enough. Place of death. “Route”—that word stuck out at the beginning of the description.
“Where’s the rest?”
“That’s all they had.” She leaned back against her couch, tapping her phone against her thigh.
“I need it all, Frankie,” I said, rubbing my sweaty palms on my pants.
“Killian, I don’t know if you want to do this. What good does it do? It doesn’t bring her back.”
“Closure, Frankie. If I can see what really happened I’ll finally have some closure.” I knew she’d do it if she thought maybe I could finally put this to bed. If seeing it all in black and white would change things for me.
“I’ll see if I can find the un-redacted version. Do you still want me to do this?” she asked, her leg bouncing up and down.
“Yes” I said, crushing the paper in my grip. Frankie let out a weary sigh and nodded her head.
Rhys had told everyone she died in their apartment. A fall. A tragic fall in the bathroom. Seeing the word “Route” on the paperwork told me differently. It told me he was covering something up. Covering up his own misdeeds, for which Beth had paid the price.
He got to go on with his life like nothing was wrong. Like he and his family hadn’t had a hand in what happened to her. What happened to Allan. What happened to me. I’d been the only one to make it out unscathed and I was going to make sure he got to feel the heat of the fire.
At the gala, I stood at the balcony doors staring at Melanie, Rhys’s nanny. She was out there in the cold, all on her own. I typed out a reply to Rachel, letting her know she would be meeting me at my apartment later. I needed to see her tonight. I’d waited long enough. I opened the balcony door, slipping out there to speak to the nanny, Melanie Bright. He couldn’t even be original. Moving onto the nanny after the death of his wife. She was beautiful. Her exposed back would have normally been a target for me, but not when I knew I had Rachel waiting for me. When I thought about her, all other women paled in comparison. Her cute glasses and frizzy hair, everything she did to downplay her beauty didn’t work on me. But Melanie didn’t know that and neither did Rhys.
Rhys showed me just how little control he had when he stormed toward me after seeing me out on the balcony with Melanie. Had I come on a little strong? Perhaps, but I wanted to get his attention and I had. It was also fun to see the shocked looks on the faces of the gala attendees after their precious dear Rhys Thayer reared back and punched me. The cracks in him were beginning to show and I couldn’t wait to expose them to everyone. I licked the blood that congealed on my lip, feeling a sharp sting where it had split.
I liked the pain. It reminded me of my mission. Of what I needed to concentrate on. That focus became much more difficult at the knock on my door. My stomach did a flip and I bit back a curse. What was I going to do about this woman? I’d sent Rachel a text just after my run in with Rhys. I knew he wouldn’t stay long after rescuing Melanie from the big bad wolf, so Rachel would be relieved of duty in short order.
I opened the door and ushered her inside. Her eyes were wide with concern as she stepped inside and took in my appearance.
“Oh my god, what happened to your lip?” she asked, grabbing my chin and tilting my head down to inspect it. She fussed over me, going to the freezer to get a handful of ice. The cold helped soothe my lip as she put the ice wrapped in a kitchen towel to my lip.
Rachel dragged me over to the couch and sat beside me. “Why are you in a tux?” she asked, finally looking at more of me than just my lip. My disheveled tux jacket wa
s thrown over the back of the couch and my undone tie hung around my neck.
“I was out tonight. At a gala,” I said, staring directly at her. Waiting for her response. Her face was so expressive. I’d learned that in and out of the bedroom. And then it clicked. She gasped.
“You went to the gala?” she asked, dropping the ice, shock written all over her face. I grabbed it from her and held it back to my lip.
“Yes.”
“What? Why? Were you invited?”
“No, I requested a last-minute invitation.”
“Why?” she said, her eyebrows scrunched together.
“Because Rhys was going to be there,” I said, matter-of-factly.
“How did you know that?” she whispered.
“Because you told me,” I said, my eyes boring into hers. She had to know any information she gave me wasn’t going to be our little secret. There was a reason we were doing this. There was a reason for all of it. It was strictly business with a little fun drizzled on top.
I had to keep telling myself that. Repeating it over and over again, or I’d forget just like it seemed she had. Didn’t she know what this was? Wasn’t she playing that game too? I couldn’t let myself feel more. It wasn’t possible. I had a plan. My mom’s words to me, scrawled on the letter I hadn’t been able to bring myself to look at for years, but the words were branded on my brain. I couldn’t get caught up in the web she wove, no matter how tempting.
24
RACHEL
I sat there frozen for a few seconds, not really comprehending what I was hearing. When had I told him? I hadn’t said anything about Rhys going to the gala. And then it hit me. My babysitting text. I talked about picking up a dress and babysitting. Anger stabbed at my gut, twisting it, churning it as I thought about what else I may have let slip. I’d been so stupid. Here I thought we had something else going on. Maybe this wasn’t just a little dance we were playing with one another, and then this.
He used me. I let him use me. I hopped up from the couch and he grabbed my wrist. I tried to shake him free, but his grip tightened.
“Where are you going?” he asked, dropping the ice to the couch. The cubes fell out of the towel and scattered on the floor.
“I’m leaving,” I said, willing myself not to cry. I’m a fucking moron.
“You’re not leaving, Rachel,” he said, pulling me closer.
“I am leaving. I can’t believe you went there tonight and got into a fight with my boss.”
“You’re not leaving, Rachel,” he repeated, like he had a say in what I did. “Do I need to remind you of my rules? I dropped my eyes. The anger gone, replaced with something else. My desire warred with anger at my weakness. Why did I let him do this? Because I’d never felt more alive. I’d never lived dangerously.
Everything I’d built was at stake. If Killian got his way, effectively sabotaging Rhys, I’d lose my job. The work I did would end. Even if Rhys started up again, I wouldn’t be coming along. I loved my job, but going behind your boss’s back and sleeping with the enemy weren’t exactly ways to prove your loyalty, no matter why I said I was doing it in the beginning.
Killian was like fire chasing after me and I’d stopped running. Instead, I’d turned around and crept closer. The fire threatened to consume me whole but I enjoyed the burn. Killian stood, keeping his grip on my wrist.
“Have you been following my rules, sweetheart?” His voice sent shivers down my spine and my skin began to tingle. My heart hammered in my chest, changing from the beat of anger to a different beat. A pulsing that ran through my entire body and centered on my pussy, which despite everything I tried to tell myself, was soaking. Dammit.
“Have you come since I let you leave last week?” he asked, pressing his chest against mine. The hard plane of his chest, pushing against my chest, as my traitorous nipples pebbled against my shirt.
“Are you wet right now?” he asked, darkly, his stubble rubbing against the side of my face. I sucked in a breath as his fingers popped open the buttons on my jeans and he slid the zipper down. Stop him, my mind screamed. Stop him and walk out of here. You’re stronger than this. But my body had other plans. His hand travelled lower, dipping under the waistband of my panties and cupping my pussy. An inch lower and he’d know.
“Are you?” he interrogated me with his husky voice, his hot breath making the hairs on my neck rise. I shook my head. “Liar,” he said, plunging his hand deeper and parting the lips of my pussy. The wet sound made its way to my ears and I felt the heat traveling up my neck. His fingers delved into my folds, finding their way inside me. He started with one finger and added another, pumping into me, nearly lifting me off the ground with the force of his thrusts. I held onto his shoulders, as the veins on his forearm bulged under the assault. An attack so powerful, the tingling in my toes shot straight to my clit and I cried out.
“Killian, please,” I begged. If he kept this up there’d be no stopping the freight train barreling through me so fast it took my breath away.
“Don’t you dare,” he said, knocking me back onto the couch and ripping the jeans down, off my legs. He grabbed a condom and got in between my legs. It all happened so quickly, he left my panties on, pulling them aside, and sunk into me in one thrust.
I jackknifed up and screamed, clawing at his back as he pounded into me so hard it took my breath away and brought me so close to the orgasm I’d dreamed about since the minute my last one ended. Killian was a drug I hadn’t known existed. And I was addicted. Nobody warned me about someone like him. That something like this could happen. That I could fall so deeply for someone that everything I thought I knew about myself flew out the window and nothing else existed when we were together, but the two of us. No matter how screwed it was.
He pushed his fingers into my mouth as I cried out and I tasted myself on him. My cries got higher and more desperate as he reached down and squeezed my clit. I couldn’t hold back. I couldn’t do it anymore.
“Don’t, sweetheart. Not yet. Wait for me,” he said, driving into me, pushing me higher than I’d ever been before. My pussy clamped down hard on his cock and I couldn’t breathe.
“Now,” he said, giving my clit one final squeeze, and I screamed so loud I was sure the neighbors would be calling the cops. Everything went black as I felt his cock expanding, stretching me a little more as he came inside me.
I came at his command, refusing to break his rules. How much longer until he broke me?
25
KILLIAN
There are many things in life that I let affect me. I’ve hardened myself to a lot of shit over the years. I had to claw my way up to where I’d made it in life, when other people had things handed to them. I’ve had people rant and rave, burst into tears or worse, and it’s never affected me, but the look on her face when I told her where I’d been and why I’d gone sliced through me like a dagger. She threatened to completely unravel and destroy me with a look.
Her unhappiness unsettled me more than anything I’d experienced in a long time. I couldn’t let her go. I shouldn’t have told her. The minute she stood, my heart started pounding. Any pain from my bruised mouth was completely forgotten. I had one purpose. One focus, and that was wiping away her sadness and anger I’d caused the one way I knew how. With her under me.
And it worked for a time. It was working now, with me and her in this bed, but what about after? What about in the light of day? In the real world, when she found out what I had planned. Her gasps, cries, and moans drove me higher than I’d ever been before and after only a couple of times together, I was addicted. I wanted more from her, needed more of her. Her smell, her touch, her taste, her everything. She’d been ready to walk out, so I needed to remind her that I’d made her feel this way and no other man would be able to do it. But I didn’t know if it would be enough.
Her gentle breathing was the only thing I could hear as she lay next to me, tucked under the navy sheets. It filled the air like music I wanted to go to sleep to every night. E
very night lying beside this woman who’d invaded my mind and made me second guess everything I’d been driven to do thus far.
I brushed a curl from her neck and she squirmed and mumbled, snuggling closer to me. I couldn’t help my smile. She never failed to make me smile, whether it was in person, on the phone, or just thinking about her. The power she had over me was overwhelming and she didn’t even know it. I couldn’t let her know. I didn’t even want to admit it myself.
It had been on the tip of my tongue to ask her the question. It would have been so easy, but I’d almost lost her. When I told her I went to the gala, I did it to push her away, to put distance between us, but the minute she stood, it was like I couldn’t breathe. I knew if I let her leave I’d regret it every day, so I used the one thing I knew she wanted.
I’d laid there, with her in my arms, after we both remembered our names again and drifted off to sleep. The reflex to push her away again struck, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The shock of that sat with me.
I wrapped my arms around her, breathing her in, committing this moment to memory. I didn’t want tonight to end because I knew the things I’d have to do in the morning and the days coming would be ones she might hate me for. But for tonight, it was perfect.
The notification tone I’d grown to hate blared as the early morning sun peeked over the horizon through my curtains. I gritted my teeth and reached for her phone, but she was faster. She sat up and scrolled through it. I didn’t need to sit there and watch her worry about Rhys. I went to the bathroom and when I came back out the bed was empty.
Noise in the living room led me right to her. I stepped out to see her completely dressed, slinging her bag over her shoulder and reaching for the door. Alarm bells rang in my head, but I didn’t know what was happening. It was the weekend, she didn’t have to go to work, and not this early.
“Where are you going? What’s wrong?”
“I’m not feeling well,” she said, unconvincingly. Something was up. One minute I’m cuddling her and the next she’s ready to bolt. Her body was tense as she stood, her hand still on the door knob.
