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Consume (Civil Corruption Book 3)

Page 15

by Jessica Prince


  We finally made it to Vienna, and things seemed to be getting back on schedule. With all the craziness the past couple of days I hadn’t had a chance to get Killian’s phone fixed, so while they were doing a sound check for their show later that night, I Googled the nearest store and set out, mindful to keep my GPS open so I didn’t get lost in a foreign city.

  I was just about to exit the hotel when I heard someone call my name. “Hey, Gina. Wait up.”

  When I spun around, I saw Lyla coming toward me at a light jog. “Hey,” I greeted. “You decided not to go to the venue with everyone else?”

  “I needed a break from Mace,” she admitted with an embarrassed smile.

  I let out a snort of agreement. “I get that. And I’m pretty sure everyone feels the same way.”

  “Yeah. So where are you headed?” she asked, quickly changing the subject. I got the distinct impression there was something heavy weighing on her mind, but it was clear she didn’t want to talk about it, so I let it drop. I’d been in that same boat more times than I cared to admit.

  “Kill cracked his phone. I was just going to get it fixed, and maybe have a look around the city if you want to walk with me.”

  Obvious relief that I wasn’t going to push the subject of Mace washed over her expression, and she quickly got in step with me as we made our way from the hotel out into the bustling city.

  We walked in companionable silence for a few minutes until we reached the store. Then she said something that nearly made me trip over my feet.

  “So… you and Killian, huh?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Gina

  “Relax,” she giggled after I caught myself from taking a header in the middle of the street. “If you’re worried the secret’s out, don’t be. I caught some of the looks he’s given you—which, can I just say… dayum—but I don’t think anyone else has noticed.”

  “It… it’s not that I want to keep it secret or anything—”

  She held up a hand to stop me. “I get it, trust me. I’m a private person too. Feel free to tell me to mind my own business. I won’t be offended.”

  “No, I mean, I don’t mind. I’ve talked to Tate and Corrie about some of it….” I paused long enough to pull in a deep breath. “I just don’t really know what to say, you know? We haven’t really had a chance to talk lately with everything going on. I’m not sure what’s happening.”

  The store was only a few blocks away, but we were walking slowly as we chatted. “Well, if it helps any, I’ve known him pretty much my whole life. They were like brothers to Will, so they were always around. I can tell you for a fact that Kill’s a good guy. He might be a little crusty on the outside, but trust me, there’s a ton of good in him.”

  I didn’t doubt that, but that didn’t necessarily mean I trusted that he was good for me. At least not yet.

  Instead of addressing that concern, I asked, “And you? How are you doing?”

  The sigh Lyla released let me know she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. “To be honest, I’ve been better. I know I stuck around to help Mason, but he’s just such a….”

  “Pain in the ass?” I offered with a smirk.

  “Yes! God! And that makes me feel terrible. What kind of person feels that way about someone who needs help?”

  We reached the repair store and pushed our way inside. I handed over the phone, thankful that the guy behind the counter spoke English. He went to the back to fix the phone, and I turned back to Lyla.

  “To answer your question, it’s completely normal to feel what you’re feeling,” I answered firmly.

  She fiddled with the cell phone gadgets lined up on the counter while mumbling, “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “I am.” When her attention came back to me, I continued. “Look, I told you about my mom’s stroke. But what I didn’t tell you was that there were times I wished I didn’t have to carry the responsibility of taking care of her. Hell, I still have days like that. It doesn’t mean I love her any less, because she means everything to me and always will. But sometimes we have bad days. We’re allowed those days, Lyla.”

  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she watched me closely. “Let me ask you a question. Do you care about Mace?” I asked.

  “Of course! He’s one of the most important people in my life. I don’t know what I’d do if—” Her voice broke with emotion, and her throat bobbed as she tried to swallow it back.

  “And have you even once considered washing your hands of the situation and walking away?”

  “Never,” she whispered raggedly.

  Taking her hand in mine, I offered a smile as I squeezed it and said, “There are days we’ll feel sorry for ourselves or feel the slightest bit resentful. It’s human nature. It doesn’t make us bad people to occasionally feel that way. It makes us human.”

  “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?” she said with a giggle. “We barely know each other, and you’ve already let me chew your ear off with my issues twice now.”

  “Anytime,” I offered sincerely. “Only next time, let’s make sure there’s booze involved.”

  “Deal.”

  Lyla and I spent a few hours wandering and shopping after getting Killian’s phone fixed. We checked out some of the sights, and I got my mom her snow globe. We were just about to back to the hotel when Kill’s phone rang from inside my bag for the third time. The damn thing had been going off with texts and alerts all day, and while the girly part of my brain was desperate to snoop, the rational side refused to let me. But this was the third call in a row in only a handful of minutes. It could have been something important.

  Reading the struggle on my face clear as day, Lyla gave a little snicker as we pushed through the doors into to the lobby. “Just answer the damn thing. Whoever it is won’t stop until you do, and I’m getting sick to death of that ringtone.”

  Pulling the phone from my purse, I laughed at Lyla and engaged the call without checking the screen, using my most professional voice as I answered, “Killian Everett’s phone.”

  “Who the hell are you?” a gruff male voice demanded to know from the other end.

  Brushing off his insulting tone, I kept mine light as I replied, “This is Gina Ivory. May I ask who’s calling?”

  “Well, Gina Ivory,” the man continued snidely. “This is Kill’s father, and while I have no doubt you’re nice to look at, ’cause my boy’s got good taste, I’d rather be speakin’ to my son right now, not his piece of nightly tail.”

  My feet ground to a halt in the middle of the shiny lobby as I sputtered, “I’m not—I don’t—we aren’t—”

  “Save it, honey. No use defendin’ yourself. Kill’s got a way with the ladies, just like his old man. Don’t take more than a wink to get you to give it up. Now where’s my son?”

  I swallowed past the lump of shame and humiliation currently clogging my throat. I’d just been called a whore by Killian’s own father—I wasn’t sure there was any coming back from that. And everything he’d just said about his own flesh and blood cast a seriously dark shadow over Lyla’s earlier defense of his character. Was this man right? Was I just like all the rest who came before me? A good time to warm his bed when he got bored?

  “He’s not… he’s not available at the moment, but I’ll make sure he returns your call.”

  I hung up before he could issue any more insults, my heart clanking against my ribs like a plinko chip on its way to my feet. How could Killian come from a man like that? And did he hold the same disgusting disregard for women as his father?

  “Gina? What’s the matter? Who was that?”

  “That was….” I cleared my dry throat. “Um, that was his father… I think?”

  Lyla’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Uh-oh.”

  “Yeah,” I deadpanned, sharing her sentiment.

  “Rude guy? Extremely chauvinistic? Managed to insult your gender no less than five times in the span of that call?”

 
; “Um, yes. To all of that. I’m taking it you know him?”

  Her face scrunched up like she’d just had someone wave of bowl of sour milk beneath her nose. “Not well, but enough, unfortunately. The man’s a world-class pig.”

  “I think… I’m not sure… well, I’m pretty sure, but I think he might’ve just called me a slut. Or at least implied I was.”

  Concern marred Lyla’s brow as she moved in. “Don’t listen to anything that man says, Gina. He’s a prick.”

  The smile I plastered on my face was so fake it felt like it might shatter at any second. I just wanted to get up to my room, climb in a hot tub, and wash that conversation from my skin before having to get to the venue for the show.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s fine. Look, can you….” I waved Killian’s phone in front of her frantically until she finally took it. “Would you mind taking this to Kill? I have something I need to do.”

  “Gina—”

  “Thanks so much!” I called with fake cheerfulness as I bolted for the elevators. “I owe you one.”

  The elevator gods must have been looking down on me just then, because the doors slid closed the moment I hit the button, taking me to the privacy of my floor within a matter of seconds. I had a few blessed hours to myself, and I planned on using every single second of them.

  Killian

  Something was off. I couldn’t figure out why Gina averted her gaze every time I looked at her or found any reason to be somewhere else when I tried to get near her, but it was starting to really piss me off.

  She’d been coldly efficient in her tasks as assistant while we geared up for our first show since Mace’s deterioration in Prague. He acted like the same miserable, sober asshole he’d been for the past few days, but he still managed to put on a killer show. There were a few times the withdrawal tremors in his hands affected the notes he was supposed to play, but the crowd didn’t seem to catch on, and he quickly found the right chord before anyone but us could notice.

  The show went off without a hitch, and we were just about to head out to the after party when Lyla stopped me.

  “Hey,”

  “Hey, Ly. You heading to the after party?”

  “No, I’m gonna ride with Mace back to the hotel. I don’t think he should be around all that right now. But I wanted to give you this first.” She held my newly fixed cell phone out. “Gina got it repaired for you earlier today and asked me to give it to you.”

  I took the phone from her hand and looked back at her in confusion. “Why couldn’t she give it to me herself?”

  She shrugged, her eyes shrewd as she replied, “I don’t know, maybe because she’s still stinging from the verbal lashing your dear old dad gave her earlier.”

  “What?” I snapped, squeezing the phone in my hand. I needed to calm the hell down before I broke the fucker all over again. “What are you talking about? When the hell’d she talk to my dad?”

  “He was blowing up your phone earlier so, as your assistant, she answered to take a message for you. I didn’t hear the conversation, and she wouldn’t tell me everything that was said, but I’m pretty sure he called her your whore before she hung up.”

  The blood in my veins started to heat to an uncomfortable level. “Tell me you’re jokin’.”

  “I wish I was.” Lyla looked around the hall, making sure we were alone before taking a step closer and lowering her voice. “What’s going on with you two, Kill?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what are your intentions?”

  My back started to get stiff at her implication, and I felt my defenses rising. “No disrespect, honey, and you know I love you, but what’s goin’ on between me and Gina really isn’t any of your business.”

  “No disrespect back, because you know you’re in my heart forever, but that girl’s already dealt with enough shit in her life, Kill. She doesn’t know it yet, but she needs a knight in shining armor, probably more than any woman I’ve ever met. If you can be that for her, then great, I’m rooting for you, because I personally thing you’re fabulous. But if you can’t….”

  “If I can’t what?” I demanded even while dreading the end of that sentence.

  “Then you need to let her go so she can find him. She’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, honey. Don’t add to it. Carry some of it for her.”

  And after dropping that profound bomb, she turned and walked away, leaving me reeling.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Gina

  I bowed out of the after party. Truth was, the guys didn’t need me tagging along to the clubs with them. There wasn’t anything for me to do, and I wasn’t in the mood, so I rode back to the hotel with some of the security guards and tucked myself in for the night.

  I was currently in the middle of binging The Office when room service knocked on the door. Cinching my robe tighter, I shuffled off the bed, my mouth watering at the thought of the giant ice cream sundae I ordered. I grabbed the wallet from my purse and started rummaging around for cash to tip the guy as I pulled the door open.

  “Thanks so much, I’ve been dying for this—Kill?”

  He looked at me with that signature arrogant smirk of his. “I’m flattered, baby, but just an FYI, I’m a sure thing. No need to pay me for it.”

  My lips scrunched to the side, and I rolled my eyes as I dropped my hand holding the money. “You’re not who I was expecting.”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he propped his shoulder against the doorframe. “Now I’m jealous.”

  “Oh for the love of—”

  “Ms. Ivory?”

  I’d been too busy sparring with Killian to notice the guy with my sundae walk up until he spoke. I let out a squeal of excitement at the dome-covered tray in his hands. “Yay! I’ve been waiting for you!”

  “This guy?” Killian sneered. “Really?”

  I shot him a killing look before taking my tray and handing the server the cash. “Thank you,” I singsonged before skipping back into my room. I could hear Killian follow me in, closing the door behind me. “So what are you doing here?” I asked, pulling the dome off the sundae and sighing happily.

  “Good Christ, woman. That thing’s the size of my head!”

  “Yup.” I popped the P loudly. “And I’m not sharing a single bite, so don’t even think about it. Now answer the question. Why are you here instead of at the club, living it up with your groupies?”

  “Careful, sweetness. Now you’re the one starting to sound jealous.”

  There was only so much ice cream could fix, and that piercing barb was too much of a reminder of the conversation I’d had earlier for a little Ben and Jerry’s to take care of. All my insecurities rushed back up like the contents of a drunk sorority girl’s stomach.

  “I’m not jealous,” I snarked, spinning around and slapping my hands on my hips.

  “Really?” He cocked a smug eyebrow.

  Deciding it best not to take the bait, I repeated, “What. Are you. Doing here?”

  He moved to the bed and plopped down, propping a few pillows against the headboard and resting against them with an arm behind his head. He was the picture of relaxed. “We haven’t had a chance for that talk. I figured now was as good a time as any.”

  I crossed my arms and hitched my hip out. “Oh? And what exactly are we talking about?”

  “For starters, how about the fact that you didn’t bother to tell me that fuck-stick Marco wasn’t in the picture anymore? Would have been good to know my competition had thrown in the towel.”

  “Wow,” I said flatly. “There are so many things wrong with that statement I don’t even know where to start. First of all, Marco’s not a fuck-stick, or an asshole, or a bastard, or whatever other childish name you’re planning on throwing his way. He’s a good guy. A great one, actually. And he didn’t deserve the mess I pulled him into.”

  “He wanted you. That makes him all those things and more,” he replied with a scowl.

  Choosing to pre
tend he hadn’t spoken, I moved on to the other issue I had with what he’d just said. “Second, I’m not a pawn in some fucked-up game of macho bullshit, Killian. I’d appreciate you not lowering me to that level. There wasn’t a competition. There was no game. I’m not some random groupie whore, so don’t treat me like one.”

  His eyes grew intense as he stared at me from his prone position on my bed. When he spoke next, his voice was soft and filled with remorse. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate I thought you were. I’m sorry if it came across like that.”

  My head fell back as realization hit. “Lyla told you about that call with your dad.”

  “What I want to know is why you didn’t.”

  A defeated sigh blew past my lips. “Because I didn’t think it mattered,” I answered in a quiet voice.

  That statement got a reaction I definitely hadn’t been expecting. He shot up from the bed and stormed my way. “Why the fuck not? Huh? What could possibly make you think my father hurting you in any fuckin’ way wouldn’t matter to me?”

  My breath hitched in shock. “I… I didn’t… Wait… Are you mad? At me?”

  “Of course I’m mad!” he shouted, raking a hand through his already-tousled hair as he began pacing in agitation. “Christ, Gina. You really think that low of me?”

  “It’s not my fault!” I shouted in return. “Can you blame me with how you left things last time?”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he grumbled. “Not this shit again. What do you want from me? I’m tryin’ here, Gina!”

 

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