Everything is perfect until a shadow looms over us.
Opening my eyes, a grin is my initial reaction to our unwelcome intruder. Mik Kennedy stands before us with his hands on his hips. My grin widens into a beaming smile before I let my mask down and let everything I feel about him show on my face.
A low growl erupts from the biker trash. I sit up straight, pre-empting Maddi’s response by clutching her to me when she pulls away. Mik looks down on us with a feral glint in his eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest and his desperate need to punch me covers his face.
Like the smart girl she is, Maddi stays silent. She’s caught between a rock and a hard place.
“I’ve requested our song, Lainey. Come dance with me?” he asks, holding his hand out to her.
Maddi’s face turns red. I bite back the need to laugh at her embarrassment. This taste of humiliation hasn’t a patch on the humble pie she dished out to me before she left for her ride. I’m more than happy to aid in any mortification she feels in order to settle the score.
My rival curves his fingers toward her, silently beckoning her to him. I give her enough space to choose, and she immediately proves every suspicion I’ve ever had about the two of them correct. Maddi take Mik’s hand and tries to slide off my lap.
With perverse delight, I pin her by her hips and hold her on my lap. She offers no protest. Her lack of fight calls to me like a red flag to a bull. Maddi wants me to shame her. Her actions speak louder than her silence, challenging me to do my worst.
Using my grip of her hips as an anchor, I free a hand to guide her by the chin back to me. Once she’s looking at me, I let her see the beast inside, before I pull her lips to mine and devour her mouth. There is little finesse in our kiss. I’m not interested in her pleasure. I simply wish to brand her—to sully her before his eyes.
He tugs her hand.
I kiss her harder.
He pulls her toward him.
I let go of her chin and grasp her hips again, this time grinding her over my hard cock with blatant delight.
Finally, Maddi gives me the response I desired. She pushes at my chest until I let her stand. Then she tries to charm me with a smile. I let my naked dislike of the man who stands behind her show freely on my face and it sends her scuttling for cover, struggling to breathe, right into Mik Kennedy’s arms.
Retaking my feet, I shoulder my way past them, and head for the exit.
Don’t for one second think that I am cowed. My father always told me that in the absence of a plan, it is better to retreat and gather intelligence than to run head-long into defeat. For the first time in a long time, I’m actually taking his advice and using it to my advantage.
My absence will embolden them.
They will believe that I am on the cusp of giving up.
That’s what I want them to think. It’s the only way to get them—Benji, Mik Kennedy, and yes, even Maddi—to drop their guard all the way.
Once their shield is down, I will strike.
Madelaine O’Brien will pay.
Mind, body, and soul.
Painfully.
Tonight.
NINETEEN
As distraction techniques go, Wendy Markham’s are up there with the best. She’s diligently spent the past hour and a half keeping me occupied while my girlfriend dry fucks the man she tries to pass off as her best friend on the dance floor.
Despite Wendy’s best efforts, and the latest wild goose chase she’s sent me on to bring her more ice, I’ve seen what Maddi and Mik are up to. Sure, I didn’t stick around to witness it for long, and I haven’t been back into the main room of the hall for over an hour, but I can feel it in my bones that they’re still in there, making a fool out of me and laughing about how easy it was to screw me over.
Little do they know.
I have a plan.
I hope they enjoy the illusion of their victory for as long as it lasts.
“Oh, Brendan,” Wendy calls after me when she spies me without my arms full. “Can you come here for a moment. I need you to—”
“No more,” I snap before I can get a grip on myself.
Swinging around, I stalk over to her. I stop a step too close, spitefully invading her space, even as I push away my frustration to paint a sympathetic expression on my face.
“I’m real sorry to do this to you, Ms. Markham,” I say, emphasising the Ms. to drive home how desperately unmarried she is after so many years spent as Beast’s side piece. Anyone with eyes can see that, in his heart, he’s still married to his dead wife. “But I’ve left Lainey alone for far too long. It’s time I got back to her.”
A visible shudder runs through her at my use of Mik’s little nickname for Maddi. It takes her a second, but she gracefully recovers. Holding up a hand to stop me from leaving, I watch her try her hardest to swallow the revulsion I send flowing through her.
“Please, just one more thing.”
I shake my head and walk away from her. For a woman who was so royally fucked over by my father, she sure has a pair of brass balls. I would have guaranteed that dad had stripped her of the backbone necessary to pull off something like this. Apparently, I was wrong, and he left her more intact than he usually does when he discards his prey.
“Brendan!” Wendy drops her placid façade and shouts after me. “Brendan, please!”
My footsteps never falter. I’m done. Her ruse is wearing thin, and I’m ready to get on with the rest of the night. The true celebration will be had at the after party. Unfortunately for the peasants who fill this building, it’s a party for two.
Me and Maddi.
Pushing open the door that leads to the main dance floor, I stop just inside the room and search for Maddi’s blonde head in the milling throng. When I can’t find her straightaway, I push my way into the middle of the room.
Turning around, I concentrate on every woman I find, searching their faces to make sure they’re not Maddi. My pulse races the longer she eludes me. My body vibrates from the bass, and it sends my anxious need to find her into overdrive. With vicious elbows, I make my way to the other side of the room, yanking every woman around so I double check that I haven’t missed her.
Someone spills a beer on me.
A man takes a swing at me when I manhandle his blonde companion.
Another person pushes me in the back when I use my elbow on their ribs to relieve some of my frustration.
Eventually, I hit the back wall without sighting either Mik or Maddi.
“Shit,” I curse, jamming my hands in my hair. “Where the hell are they?”
I can’t bring myself to follow my mind down the negative path it tries to take me on. There is no way to reconcile the frigid girl I know with the images my imagination wants to taunt me with. Her absence from the dance floor is simply a coincidence. She is not in the back seat of some truck, willingly giving the prize I’ve waited so long to claim to that dirty biker she can’t seem to say away from.
Surely not?
A door slams shut near me, and I remember the fire exit that leads into the yard. Forcing anyone who gets in my way to move, I have my hand on the door handle when it opens.
Maddi stands in the doorway with Mik hot on her heels. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her and I melt back into the shadows. She seems oblivious to my presence, apparently searching the crowd for someone.
Most likely me.
Maddi gives Mik a smile, then steps into my reach. My control shatters when I see Mik Kennedy checking out her ass. I grab her arm and yank her against me. Removing her from his reach doesn’t calm the monster in me so I attempt to vanquish him with the hatred in my eyes.
He meets my glare with one of his own. It morphs into cockiness and I clench my fist. Common sense tells me that he’s toying with me; my rage doesn’t want to heed its advice. Mik lifts his eyebrows at me and blows me a kiss.
My temper blows.
Maddi sees me lose it first and grabs hold of my arm with both her hands when I take
a step toward him. She uses all her weight to stop me, and when that doesn’t work, she tries pleading.
“Brendan, please calm down.”
I ignore her, then an idea hits me. Changing my direction, I wrap a hand around Maddi’s upper arm and drag her away from Mik. She pulls, attempting to escape my clutches, but I’m unrelenting. I don’t stop until we’re out the front of the hall.
Like a lovesick puppy Mik follows. I yank Maddi another couple of steps away from him, and he falls into my trap, stepping through the doorway and all the way outside with me. I stop dragging Maddi and wait for him to say something. So far, he’s let her do all the talking for him. I continue to wait when all he does is cross his arms over his chest and fix his eyes on the hand that’s wrapped around the top of Maddi’s arm.
Grinning, I squeeze her arm tighter. She gasps, and that finally galvanises him into action.
“What the fuck’s your problem, man? You wanna let go of Lainey before I fucking make you let go.”
As threats go, it laughable. Doesn’t matter. His engagement gives me the in I need to start this fight. I swing at his head. He sidesteps me with ease. My momentum sends Maddi flying and she ends up sliding across the rough asphalt on her knees.
A strangled cry fills the air. Maddi follows it with a whimper, and that diverts my attention from trying to take Mik’s head off to her. I take a step to help her, but I’m pushed out of the way by her self-proclaimed protector.
“You fucking cockhead,” he growls. “You're gonna fucking pay for that.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. I hope he’s not expecting me to quake in my boots after that tepid threat.
My only response is a classless snort.
He really is walking cliché.
Squatting in front of Maddi, he inspects her knees. Blood pools in her grazes, sending sparks of need straight to my dick. My adrenaline spikes and I sway on my feet. At last, I’ve made her bleed. My beast rears his head and demands that I deliver him more.
Mik touches her injuries, testing the depth of her abrasions, and the sight of her blood on his fingertips when he pulls them away sends me into a primal frenzy.
I grab him by the back of his leather vest and drag him off her.
“Don’t touch my girlfriend, biker scum.” I sneer, my contempt for his meddling coating my words.
He rises to his full height and attacks. Jamming his forearm across my throat, I let him walk me backward until he slams me into the side of the hall. My only focus is the blood that runs down Maddi’s shredded denim when she stands up.
“Mik, calm down,” she pleads.
He simply presses harder on my throat. I feel my face overheating, and it becomes harder to draw in a full lungful of air. A wheeze escapes my lips, but I don’t care. All I can smell is the copper scent of Maddi’s blood, and it’s sending my lust for her spiralling out of control.
Mik can hurt me as much as he likes.
I will prevail.
Maddi will bleed again tonight.
"Don't fucking tell me what to do, you piece of shit.” He stops threatening me, long enough to spit in my face. I gain a small reprieve from him crushing my windpipe, then he punches me twice in the gut. “If we weren't in public, I'd fucking kill you for what you just did to her.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Benji, Kyle, and Joel step out of the shadows, crossing their arms over their chests, ready to take on anyone who might come to my aid. I’d laugh if I was able. There is no one here to defend me. I stepped into this lion’s den as a lone wolf, and I intend to leave that way.
I don’t need any help.
They are all beneath me.
Mik punches me again before he lets me drop.
My back slides down the building and my ass hits the ground. He spits at me once more. Turning his back on me and striding back to Maddi, he wraps his arms around my girlfriend. She falls into his embrace and hides her face in his neck.
Ire—red-hot fury—races through me and I vow that this will be the last time he ever touches her.
“You're going to regret that.” I snarl, wiping the saliva from my face.
Benji rushes forward, however, I pay him no mind.
I’m too busy watching Maddi break before my eyes. Horror floods her face, followed quickly by guilt. She lets the blame for tonight settle squarely on her shoulders—exactly like I knew she would when I put these circumstances into motion.
Maddi craves control as much as I do. She simply does it in a different way. While I relish my ability to control others with manipulations, pain, and terror, Maddi takes control by managing the emotions of everyone around her. I saw it for the first time when she attempted to placate Benji when he chucked a tantrum over our fledging relationship, but my suspicions were confirmed the night I took her for a frozen coke and she admitted that she allows a vow she made to her dying mother to dictate her life.
Tonight is the culmination of my scheming.
Tonight, Madelaine O’Brien is going to walk head first into my trapped by doing what she does best.
Take control of the angry men in her life.
My mouth waters as she pulls away from Mik and approaches her twin.
I want to taste her turmoil.
Caught up in the beautiful sight of my victory unfolding, I barely glance at my defeated enemy when his shoulders drop with dejection, and he realises that she’s about to succumb to my poison.
"It's okay, Benj. I'm going to take Brendan home. Let's not let this wreck our party, hmmm?” Her voice is sweet when she begs. I hope she’ll use that tone on me when I’m punishing her for every infraction she’s made tonight.
Benji doesn’t seem to hear her, so she tries again, tugging on his arm and pleading with her eyes for him to listen. My chinos tighten in the crotch area at the sight—Maddi has never been more beautiful to me than she is right. Broken, begging, and bleeding.
“What the fuck? You aren't going anywhere with this cunt,” Mik eventually finds his balls and mounts a protest.
“I need to. This is my fault,” she cries. “We agreed, remember?”
Any other time, I’d want to explore this agreement they’ve made. Right now, it seems superfluous to the situation—there is nothing he can say to counter the guilt Maddi is determined to martyr herself over.
“It's not your fucking fault,” Mik argues. “And you know I agreed before he was a dog and fucking pushed you over—”
“Fuck, Maddi, you don't owe this fucker anything,” Benji interrupts. “You're my sister, and I say you're not taking him anywhere. Let him put his fucking money where his mouth is and face what he just did like a fucking man.”
My eyes are like ping pong balls as I try to keep up with their interplay. It’s fascinating. They’re all so close to her, yet they haven’t the first iota of understanding about what makes her tick.
If they truly wanted to stop Maddi from leaving with me, all they need to do is stop fighting and walk away.
If they removed the problem she’s attempting to manage, Maddi would be cast adrift from her need to sacrifice. She would follow them anywhere, searching for another issue to help them manage.
Instead, they’re pushing her into this with their arguments about why she shouldn’t save them from themselves.
Maddi approaches me. I slump forward and keep my mouth shut. Everything I’ve been working toward is in my grasp and I’ll be damned if I let my smart mouth scare away the little lamb I wish to devour. She grabs my arms and struggles to pull me to my feet. I make it as hard as possible for her—simply to satisfy my own perverse need to see her dance to my tune.
“We’re going to leave now, aren’t we, Brendan?” she tells me in a tone that would be suitable for a child.
The men surrounding us gape in disbelief and I continue to act like I’m mute.
She snaps her fingers in front of my face, and I acknowledge her through heavy eyelids. My biggest fear now is that the enjoyment and calculation that’s currently sp
inning in my brain becomes visible on my face. It will ruin everything. I drape my arm over her shoulder and lean on her—a subtle hint to get a move on.
The tendons on Mik’s neck stand out at her close proximity to me, and I decide to chance one last gibe. Pulling her closer, I leer down at her and say, “Yes, we are, Lainey. Going home and straight to bed.”
I emphasise my use of Lainey and wait for the fireworks to erupt.
Mik growls. Maddi holds her hand up to stop him. Like the coward he is, he respects her wishes and stops advancing. If he could only get over his misguided good guy streak and treat Maddi the way all girls crave to be treated deep down, he might become a worthy opponent.
Ultimately, this has been much too easy.
“Don't call me Lainey,” Maddi rebukes me. I fight to hide a smile at her indignation. It’s too cute—and completely misplaced. “You have two options right now. Piss me off, and you'll only have one. Either pull your head out of your ass and let me take you home so we can talk, or I'm going to leave you right here and let them deal with you. Which one do you pick?”
“I need you to take me home,” I answer, quickly.
Her biker trash objects with a growl. I wait for Benji to stick his oar in, but he doesn’t. It’s Joel—the quiet dark horse—who cements his big sister’s downfall.
He's been standing back watching everything with interest, choosing now to offer his advice.
“Come on, Mad Dog. Just let my soft-hearted, dumbass sister take his fucked-up ass home. Dad’s gonna be back soon, and we don't need the cops being called when he goes apeshit and the Shamrocks back him.”
“This is absolute fucking bullshit. He's not your problem.” Mik rounds on Maddi. His temper appears close to blowing. I hold my breath and wait for this situation to take a more interesting turn.
It never eventuates.
Mik Kennedy metaphorically tucks his balls between his legs and lets an eighteen-year-old girl walk all over him. One day, he’ll learn that she needs a firm hand and little psychological mindfuckery to pull her into gear; however, today is not that day.
Craving Control Page 17
