by Wyatt, Dani
Steam was beginning to billow out from the clear glass walls of the shower.
“That you’re going to get us all killed.” Her voice turned viper, and Flynn locked his eyes on her face as she waited for his reaction.
Why’s she poking the damn bull? Really? Fuck, I hate seeing her like this.
“Come on. You’re getting in the shower.” Flynn reached down, and she jerked her arm away. “Don’t. I’m not playing.”
“I’m not either.” She looked like a dug-in soldier. “This…” She flapped her hand between them. “It’s not good. Not for me, not for my mom. It’s not good. I’m sorry. It can’t happen anymore. We can’t happen.”
“Yeah, we’re not talking about that now. The only thing you are going to do is get your ass up and—”
“Stop it!” Lilly screamed and kicked at him, half crying. “I mean it! You know what happened today? Mac gave me this.”
She reached into her pocket and dangled a single brass key in front of her.
Flynn wasn’t biting. He felt the heat rising in the back of his neck and he had to take in a deep breath and blow it out.
“Itza key.”
“Yeah, it is a key,” Flynn repeated, exaggerating every word.
“A key to a house. That Mac gave me. ‘Cause I tole him ‘bout us. And he said it was upta me to take you there or let us go there. But, I’m NOT going to.”
Her adolescent brat was out in full force. Gotta love alcohol.
“Really?”
“Yep. But listen ‘cause I mean it. We’re not going there because we’re not going to be anything anymore. Okay? Please, just go away.” Her defiance turned to a begging half-sob, and he heard the crack in her voice.
It took all of his will, but he stood solid, hands in his pockets and let her get it out. From the look on her face, there was more to come.
“Okay? Go. Away.” She flipped her fingers toward the open bathroom door like she was dismissing a servant.
“Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“GO!! God, we’re not going to ever be anything. You know it and I know it. I mean, it’s stupid, us? Really? No. No. NO. No. So, you should go. Because whatever that was that we did, I'ma pretend it never happened. Your name is Dunleavy, after all. You may be the bad apple, the black sheep of the herd, but you’re still part of the bunch.”
She pushed up on the arms of the chair in the beginning of some drunk march of defiance.
“Come here.” He softened his voice and his demeanor.
He knew what she needed and right now, he knew it wasn’t a scolding. She needed to tell him, and he needed her to know she could come to him with anything. Even if it meant she would have a punishment coming later. He would always be there for her. Firm. Fair. But never weak. Kindness, yes. Weakness, no.
“No. Come on.” She drew out the words as she let her head fall to her shoulder. “Don’t. Juss go.”
“I’m not going, babe.”
“I can’t be your babe. That’s what I’m saying.” Lilly’s voice took on an edge that set Flynn’s teeth together.
A wave of heat passed over his skin as her eyes turned dark, and something inside her shifted. Turned and twisted with a deep anger he’d never seen before.
“Don’t. Now’s not the time. I told you, you’re mine, and I fucking take care of what’s mine. I’m here for you, so do what you’re told. We’re taking your clothes off and you’re taking a shower, like it or not.”
Even with the grip in his chest, blood was pooling in his dick just being this close.
She struggled and banged on his chest, but Flynn turned everything off. Pain had no effect on him, but he shut out her venom and by the time he worked off her jacket, she’d let a haymaker fly and tried to knock him in the temple, finding out just how much it hurt to knock her knuckles into bone.
“Owwww!” She shook her hand.
“Yeah? Good, that was a cheap shot. You hurt yourself more than me. That’s fucking enough.”
She was grousing and kicking, but as he tugged her pants down, she steadied herself and put two warm hands on his shoulders and waves of glowing copper fell over her shoulders and face.
“I still hate you,” Lilly whispered as Flynn guided her into the searing steam.
“I know. It’s okay.”
Every curve and soft valley called to him; his fingertips were shaking as she closed the glass door and he watched the water course over her.
Keep your fucking head, man. Try not to focus on what you wish you were doing with her right now. Beauty needs us with our heads on straight and our honor at the ready.
Just as he felt his breath even out, he listened as Lilly started mumbling to herself. She seemed even more intoxicated now than when she walked in.
“I’m gonna make it work. I can. He’s going to be my husband, and I’m going to be his wife. We’re going to have a bunch of babies, and I’ll name one after you.”
Her head turned as she said the last words. She wasn’t talking to herself; she was trying to kill him.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“I’m done with this. Next month I’ll be Mrs. Colin Dunleavy, and that’s what I want. So, do you get it now? That’s what I WANT. Not you. Not you. You’re going to be my stepson, and I’m going to have a good life here with my husband.”
The last thing Flynn remembered was seeing Lilly’s hand move between her legs and she smiled. Then, everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Three days.
Four.
Five.
Lilly felt herself sink farther and farther with each pass of the moon. She remembered snapshots. Pieces and words, but it was hard to put together everything from that night.
Her fingers moved on the keys; she talked with the other programmers, the architects, Colin. She became a pleasant, well-mannered robot and worked when she was told, ate when she was told and smiled when appropriate.
It was better than the alternative. The looming cliff that would have surely come if she had allowed herself more of their delusion. For them to continue with a silly fairy tale sure to end in pain for everyone.
She’d had enough tragedy. Living this life, even as it was, would be better.
How did he think it would be possible? I mean, they could have gone on a few weeks. Then what? Call off the wedding? Mom dies. Surely Flynn would have a convenient accident.
She knew what would happen to her. She was too valuable to dispose of, but if her mother died, she would follow her by her own hand.
So, a half-life or no life. She chose the half-life of luxury and safety. It was the best way. Flynn would get to live.
The idea that Colin would find out she wasn’t a virgin on her wedding night only vaguely worried her.
She didn’t care what happened to her body; she could disconnect. She’d done it for years when her uncle used to visit her at night before she managed to get that lock on her door.
Shut down.
Turn off.
It’s not happening.
She could just log the other Irish raping cocks along with her childhood memories. Chalk it up to the family way, once again.
Two nights ago at dinner, Flynn’s chair stood empty. Gideon and Colin quietly ate their dinner as Lilly stared at her plate of green.
“Where’s your brother? I told him he was welcome for dinners. He doesn’t usually pass on food.” Colin asked Gideon.
Lilly’s knife stopped on a pea just for a split second as she saw Gideon’s eyes snap her way with a sick grin then back to Colin.
“Gone. Bronco’s gone, too. Nothing left of his in the guesthouse either.”
“Really? Tomorrow, go see if he’s training at that gym Topher wanted him to watch. Get a track on him. He’s such a wildcard. He doesn’t have access to too many funds; he can’t be far.”
“I checked his family account. He withdrew all the money and paid for a plane ticket to Boston on the travel account two days ago.�
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Lilly felt heat rise over her chest and the little dinner she managed to swallow started to come up.
“Boston? What the fuck is he doing in Boston?”
“I don’t know. You know him, probably some bitch in heat caught his eye. Maybe a fight, too. Let him blow off some steam. I think he needs it.” Gideon smiled at Lilly.
“Track his ass down. Get him here. I don’t give a shit what his cock wants; he has work to do. Simple job for his ass, fight at that gym for a few weeks until Topher tells us it’s done. Bullshit, I can’t wait to have this marriage done so we don’t have to owe that jackass anything anymore.”
Colin shoved his Chippendale chair back from the head of the table.
“And you.” He looked at Lilly. “My dear sweet darling, we have a dinner to go to. Friday. Go to Gina’s and get a dress. Formal. It’s an investor’s dinner, so we need to be on our best behavior.”
“Of course. I’ll go in the morning before work. Any particular color or style you prefer?” Lilly gave him a soft smile.
Colin tipped his head and blinked.
“No. Whatever you like. Ask for Holly. She’ll know what you need. And get your hair done, too.”
“Sure. I’m sorry it’s such a mess. I’ll try to do better.”
Colin narrowed his eyes.
“I mean it. I will. I’ve been petulant, and I’m trying to do better. You’ve given me so much already, and I’ve been unappreciative. I’m sorry.”
Gideon put down his knife and fork and smiled, looking from his father to Lilly.
“Good. Well, that will make life easier for us both. I have work to do. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.” Lilly’s voice was flat as she looked without seeing toward Gideon’s dark stare and wicked smile.
“Well, well. Decided when in Rome, yes?” Gideon took a big bite of his steak.
Lilly sighed and scooted a single pea around her plate in a figure eight.
“Too bad. I think I liked the old you better. More interesting.” He took another bite. He chewed and looked dramatically at the ceiling before swallowing and continuing. “But, this is better for us all. You are the new world, that brain of yours. If he could have found someone else who could put this all together, he would have. Probably still needed to marry you, that’s just how it is, but he doesn’t like you having so much power. Makes him grouchy.” Gideon smiled and gnashed his teeth on the last word. “So. Yes. It will be better. Better for you, for sure. Be an obedient little wife and a useful engine and you may just learn to enjoy the Dunleavy life. I know I have.”
Gideon let out a grotesque chuckle as Lilly smiled back with her sweetest grin.
“Yes, you are so right. Thank you for your insight. And I can’t wait to be your loving stepmother.”
“Ha! Yeah, whatever that was between you and my brother. Let me tell you a little secret about Flynn. He doesn’t like it easy. He likes a challenge. So, you were the challenge. Now, he’s done with you. Trust me. He’s got no interest in you except fucking with my father. That would be his only goal. He’s a black-hearted fuck. Never think different. It will come out, whatever it was between you two. My lips are sealed. I don’t give a shit where he sticks his dick, and really, I just can’t wait to see the shit show when Dad finds out. Flynn’s planning on telling him. Trust me. He’s just waiting for the time when it will have the most impact.”
Lilly’s felt like someone just stuck her with a cattle prod.
“So, well. This has been a good bonding experience for us. Don’t you think? But, alas, I have my own duties to tend to. Oh, and by the way, all the Jameson disappeared from the bar pantry. So, you either have a nice stash somewhere, or you may need to take yourself down to the corner store and get yourself a bottle. I don’t blame you; I think you may need more than Scotch in the years to come. I know my mother did.”
One last grin and Lilly watched his arrogant, lanky form stride out the dining room archway whistling.
***
“Jesus, kid. You’re gonna kill someone.” Roger limped into the cage and waved over a couple other guys to tend to the lump of sweat and blood that lay crumpled against the chain link.
Flynn bit down on his lip until he tasted his blood.
For four days, all he’d done was fight. He lived here, fighting anyone who volunteered, even a couple who didn’t.
“Listen. I don’t know what you have up your Irish ass, but knock it the fuck off.” Roger poked his cane into Flynn’s gut with each word.
Flynn’s chest rose and fell like a tidal surge. The ink that covered his arm down to the wrist gleamed and dripped. He’d barely spoken a word in days, only growled.
The gym was quiet after 9:30 pm, only Roger, Flynn and the other three guys around. The lump in the corner was sitting up now, his buddies holding a towel that was now turning cherry red against his forehead where Flynn almost punched straight through his skull.
“Come on. Get your ass down here.” Roger tapped his cane with each step.
Flynn sniffed and gave the poor dude in the corner a nod.
“Sorry, man.”
“It’s cool.” The kid who had volunteered to fight Flynn was doing his best to piece together his pride as his eyes fought to focus.
“Sit the fuck down.” Roger pointed to a dented, metal folding chair next to the front desk.
Outside the gym windows, only a few street lights were still functioning in this shitty part of Detroit, but Flynn felt like he was right where he needed to be.
“So, you’ve been here open-to-close for four days, beating the shit out of anything you can find. Now, I told you; I had a fight for you — I wanted you to prove to me you were up to the challenge, but this is going to get someone hurt. You’ve got to rein this in, whatever it is, ‘cause it’s not going to get you a contract. It’s going to get you a felony.”
A flash of thunder cracked overhead, and the lights flickered.
Flynn’s legs bounced, and his hands pounded on his knees.
“Yeah. Okay.” He grimaced as he spoke the first words he could remember in days to another human.
“Yeah, I might understand now why you have that little war wound across there.” Roger pointed to his chest with a shaking finger. “You got some anger issues, kid. Now take a shower, don’t take a shower, I don’t give a shit. Just get the fuck out and come back with your head outta your damn ass. I’m puttin’ you in that fight, but you show up like this, I'ma lose any credibility I have left, which ain’t much.”
“Yeah, well. Whatever.”
“Don’t be an ass. You’re going in that fight, and you’re going to win. I can see that. But you pull shit — what you just did — that will get you thrown out and then — no win. Got it?”
“Got it.” Flynn popped to his feet with more energy than a man who had battled bags, weights, three sparring rounds and a few demons should.
It’s not fucking working, man. You’re losing it. You’re going to need a fucking lobotomy to clear your head, but that’s not what you fucking need. You need to quit being a pussy, get your plan together and forget what she said. That was drunk ass bullshit, and you know it. Stress. Don’t let her marry him, even if she hates you forever. Blow this shit up. Tell Colin about you and her. He may kill you, but he won’t hurt her.
Flynn stared at the brass key he’d hung from a shoestring around the Bronco’s rearview mirror. He’d lost most of his mind that night, but the last thing he did was grab that key.
More than anything, he wanted to keep her safe, to turn her over and give her smartass mouth what it needed. He snapped and left her there, smiling in the shower. Only, whoever that was, wasn’t Lilly.
His fists looked like raw meat after so many days of torture. His knuckles were broken open on more fingers than not, gaping red when he clutched the wheel and brought his forehead down in a slam.
“FUUUCCCKKKKK!”
He tried to tear the steering wheel from the column and the entir
e vehicle shook in the black parking lot behind the gym.
His foot met the floor and the smell of rubber shocked his nose as he bounced over the curb and headed toward hell.
Chapter Twenty-three
Thirty six hours later, Flynn was ready to kill.
There is a stink that is distinctive to a fight. It’s a fetid brew of testosterone, sweat, confidence and fury.
“Don’t ball up. Defense, remember? You can’t always be the hammer, sometimes the nail has to try to get the fuck away, okay? This guy will turn that pretty mick face of yours into ground beef, so keep your fucking arms up and your feet moving. You don’t move, you die. Got it?”
Roger rubbed his face one final time and made his way out of the cage in a huff.
It wasn’t so much that the machine across from him was drooling and looked like a steroid-pumped tweaker or the fact that Simon Reed was in the audience, here to keep an eye on what he hoped would be his next rising star.
Nope, it was about the blood. About the fight.
The sheer violence of it. Flynn flared his nostrils as he pulled in the stinking, sweat-filled air in the cage, waiting for the ref to unleash him into where he loved to be most.
“Gentleman! I want a clean fight. Obey my rules at all times; protect yourselves at all times.”
The smallish, ruddy-faced man in the neat black polo and black pants gave each fighter a nod and expected one in return.
“Okay. You ready?” He pointed at the frothing dog in the opposite corner who gave a single nod. The dude was clearly running on something other than adrenaline and Flynn took note of the twitch in his eye, the way he stood with more weight on his left leg than his right.
“You ready?”
Flynn tipped his head up and down.
“Go to war!”
The clap of the boards set Flynn free. Nothing existed besides the fight.
He was the underdog — the gorilla across from him favored to win — but Flynn already centered his focus on his weakness. He came out of his corner off balance, the weight on his left leg more than unequal, and Flynn spun under his first haymaker, sending him turning in his own orbit with a roar like a grizzly.
