Tainted Bastard

by Terri Anne Browning

  “Fuck, babe!” Aubree was on her feet, her cool hand touching my brow. “You have a fever.”

  I could only nod because it hurt too much to talk.

  “Give me five minutes, and we’ll take you to the urgent care.”

  London was already running into her shared room with Genesis. “Get up, lazy ass. Ro needs to go to the doctor.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” I heard the other Blonde slur seconds before I heard someone trip over something. “Shit! London, you filthy pig. Pick up your dirty clothes, and put them in the hamper. I nearly broke my fucking neck.”

  “Too bad you didn’t,” London snapped.

  Feeling dizzy, I dropped down onto the couch and waited for them to get dressed. Aubree was ready in less than two minutes. She came out of our bedroom, pulling her hair into a messy knot on top of her head then went down to the other bedroom. “Hurry the fuck up, and stop your bitching at each other. Ro is sick, and she doesn’t need to hear your shit today.”

  Coming over to the couch, she offered me my phone. “You left this on the floor in our room.”

  I took it but tossed it onto the coffee table, shaking my head.

  “Guess you don’t want to call Sin and tell him you’re sick, then?”

  Shooting her a glare, I shook my head again. No way was I calling him. He would probably think I was faking just to keep him home all weekend anyway.

  Even if I wanted to be cuddled up against him with him rubbing my back.

  “He’s really going to Vegas?” I swallowed painfully and nodded. “Fuck. He’s a douchebag, babe. But if he knew you were sick, he probably wouldn’t go.”

  I lifted a hand, signaling for her to stop, and shook my head adamantly.

  “Okay, it’s your choice. I won’t put my nose in it.”

  The urgent care was overflowing with people when we walked in. Kids crying, people coughing so hard, it was a wonder they could actually breathe, some guy throwing up into the blue plastic baggie he’d been given. It was crazier than the ER, but at least I could afford—barely—this place.

  It took forever, but I was finally given a strep test, which came back positive, and they wrote me a prescription for an antibiotic. There was a pharmacy across the road, and Aubree took it in to get filled while I tried to nap in the back seat of the car.

  Three hours after leaving the apartment, I fell onto my bed and pulled the covers up over my head.

  Minutes later, Aubree walked in, my meds in one hand and a bottle of Gatorade in the other. She handed over both, asked if I was hungry, then promptly left when I flipped her off. Food held no appeal. Not only because my stomach was a freaking mess, but the idea of food touching my throbbing throat was enough to make me sweat.

  It was bad enough swallowing the antibiotic. Once I had it down, I grabbed the NyQuil that was still on my bed from the night before and took another big mouthful. Pulling the covers up over my head, I let sleep take me and prayed the meds would work so I didn’t have to go back to the doctor for a different antibiotic.

  “Ro.”

  Lifting my eyes, I saw it was dark outside my window, and Genesis was leaning over my bed, her phone outstretched. “Sin said he hasn’t been able to get hold of you, so he called me. Do you want to talk?”

  I shook my head, pushing her hand away. “Go. Away,” I gritted out, making my throat hurt more than it already was.

  “Ro!” I heard Sin yelling my name from the receiver. At the sound of his voice, I wanted to cry. I ached to have him hold me, to baby me, and to just love on me. But I wasn’t about to ruin his weekend. If he’d been so desperate to go he hadn’t even told me about it, I wasn’t going to be the reason he cut his weekend short. “Just talk to me, goddamn it.”

  Snatching the phone out of her hand, I ended the call and then blocked him. “Now leave me alone,” I whispered. “And if he calls anyone else, don’t fucking answer.”

  “Shouldn’t I at least explain to him you’re sick and that’s why you’ve turned into a cranky bitch?”

  “Gen!” I hissed. “If you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to cough in your face and give this shit to you. Go. The. Fuck. Away.”

  “He’s calling me now!” London yelled from the living room. “What should I do?”

  “Don’t answer it,” I groaned. “And leave me alone.”

  Genesis sighed exasperatedly, tucking the covers up around me. “Fine. Fine. You just rest. Don’t worry about anything else.”

  As she walked out, closing the door behind her, I heard London asking her if Sin and I broke up.

  “Don’t know. She’s not really able to talk much.”

  Their voices became muffled as she moved away from the closed door, and I shut my eyes. The NyQuil was still holding strong, and I fell back to sleep almost instantly, too tired to worry about Sin and his trip or my soul sisters gossiping about me out in the living room.

  Saturday came and went in the blur of bathroom trips, forcing down more meds, and sleeping. I vaguely remembered Aubree threatening to take me to the hospital for IV fluids if I didn’t start drinking the Gatorade she kept bringing me and I kept ignoring in favor of sleep. I drank half a glass, and she seemed satisfied enough she didn’t bitch at me much afterward.

  Sunday, my throat didn’t feel nearly as bad, and my headache had faded.

  After a shower, I walked into the kitchen in search of something to eat. I hadn’t eaten in over forty-eight hours, so I was freaking starving.

  Heating up a can of vegetable soup, I then took my bowl into the living room and found something to watch as I ate slowly. The heat from the soup felt good on my still-aching throat, and I found myself drinking the broth from the bowl in search of more of that same soothing warmth.

  I was draining the last from the bowl when there was a knock on the door. No one else was up, so I put the bowl on the coffee table and stood. A glance through the peephole showed a guy in a brown courier shirt and khaki pants.

  It was Sunday. Who the hell sent packages on Sunday?

  Frowning, I opened the door a few inches. “Yeah?”

  The guy looked from me to the clipboard and the thick envelope in his hands. “Looking for Roanna King. I’ve got a package for her.”

  I opened the door a little more. “That’s me.”

  He thrust the clipboard at me. “Sign here.”

  I scribbled my name on the bottom of the page. As soon as I handed it back, he put the envelope in my hands. “Have a good day,” he said, tipping his chin before walking away.

  I waited until he was on the elevator before shutting the door and turning the envelope over in my hands.

  The return address was from a private investigation firm based in downtown LA called Lewis and Son Private Investigating, Inc. My name was right under it, with my address along with “Urgent” and “Important Documents” stamped in red. The envelope wasn’t heavy, but there was something thick inside of it from the feel of it.

  Curiosity getting the better of me, I tore it open as I sat on the couch. At least a dozen pictures fell facedown on my lap, and I instantly felt on edge. Fingers trembling, I gathered them into a pile before turning them over.

  The first picture was of Sin, standing with Gray, Kale, and Cash outside of some building. From the dark sky above and the flashing lights from the surrounding buildings, I knew it had been taken in Vegas. Sin had a grin on his face, telling me he was having a good time. From the looks on the other three’s faces, they were all enjoying themselves.

  I smiled at the picture, glad he was getting to hang out with his friends. I still might have been upset he hadn’t told me, but I wanted him to be able to go out with the guys and relax.

  The next picture was obviously taken from a longer distance than the first but with a good enough lens that I was able to make out exactly who was in the picture and what was going on in the background. I could see each face perfectly. Cash, Jace, Harris, Kale, Gray, Caleb. And
right in the middle of them was Sin. They were in what looked like a private box, the picture taken from an angle below, making me think they were on a second floor while the photographer was on the first.

  They were all drinking bottles of beer, laughing, playing around or on their phones. But on the stage in front of them was a brunette sliding down a pole in nothing more than her thong.

  And of course, Sin’s eyes were glued to her as he lifted his beer to his lips.

  The next picture showed Harris standing up, and Sin leaning forward to slip money into the stripper’s panties.

  I quickly flipped to the next picture. Harris was walking toward the door, and Sin was leaning back on the huge sectional, his lids heavy, desire or drunkenness shining out of his eyes as the brunette smiled down at him. I couldn’t tell which.

  In the next picture, his beer bottle was raised as if he were chugging the last of the contents, and the stripper was off the stage, standing right in front of him and Cash.

  Two more pictures showed the same thing, but when I lifted the next one, my heart dropped into my stomach with a sickening thud.

  The stripper was sitting in his lap, and I didn’t need to see the next one to know she was grinding on his cock.

  Not able to stomach looking at more, I threw the entire stack of pictures on the floor. They scattered across the carpet. Pissed and with my heart hurting, I stood, only to nearly slip on one of the pictures. Righting myself, I glared down at the sight of Sin’s face inches away from the brunette’s bare tits.

  Enraged, I picked up the envelope the pictures came in and stomped into my room where my phone was. Turning it on, I was instantly bombarded with over twenty texts from Sin. The last one came in at just after two that morning.

  I’m drunk and wishing you were here. Fuck. I miss you, sweet girl.

  “Was that before or after you had her practically humping you, asshole?” I growled at my phone’s screen.

  “Huh?” Aubree asked groggily from her bed.

  “Nothing,” I snarled.

  Ignoring the rest of his texts, I did a quick search on the private investigator who sent me the pictures. Less than ten seconds later, I had his number and was calling.

  Pacing out into the living room, I waited for someone to answer.

  “Lewis and Son,” a deep voice barked. “This is Barrie Lewis.”

  “Are you the Lewis or the Son?” I snapped.

  “I’m the Lewis,” he answered with amusement lacing his voice. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

  “I got a present from you this morning,” I informed him. “My name is Roanna King, and I want to know why the fuck you sent me those goddamn pictures.”

  There was a pause on his end during which I heard him shifting papers. “Ah, yes. Miss King. I was hired on your behalf by a…hold on…a Judge Blaylock. The judge said he was a friend of your father’s and that he was worried your boyfriend was cheating on you. One of my guys spent the entire weekend following him around Vegas. I didn’t see the pictures myself, ma’am, but from what my guy tells me, he got plenty of proof that your man has indeed been stepping out on you.”

  Judge Blaylock?

  Who the fuck was that?

  I didn’t know who the man was or why he was in Sin’s and my business.

  Those pictures were my worst fear, the one thing I hadn’t let myself think about since Sin and I had started seeing each other, but it had been at the back of my mind the entire past four months.

  During that time, I’d begun to relax, thinking maybe I really was enough to hold Sin’s attention and he wouldn’t cheat on me.

  Once again, it was being tossed in my face that I’d given him way too much fucking power over me.

  “Miss King?” Barrie Lewis’s voice asked with concern at my ear.

  “I’m still here,” I gritted out.

  “I’m sorry my guy couldn’t reassure you that you had a good man, Miss King.” His voice actually did sound regretful, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. “But I see this kind of thing every single day. People can’t stay monogamous to save their lives. Lucky for you there was someone who had your back and let you see how this guy really is before you got in too deep.”

  I was already in too deep.

  But even as hurt as I was, I couldn’t let those pictures float around out in the universe. Whoever this Judge Blaylock guy was, he could very well have his own copy and use them to make Sin’s life uncomfortable. Sin and the other Tainted Knights were rising celebrities, and trashy magazines would be all kinds of greedy to take those pictures off the judge’s hands. Kale had been hit sideways by a single picture of him at some stupid party the band’s road manager set up.

  I was pissed, there was no doubt about that, but I loved Sin too much not to do something to try to stop this before it got ugly.

  I blew out a pained breath. “Mr. Lewis, you sound like a nice enough man, but you’re not coming across as all that bright. I have no idea who Judge Blaylock is. I’ve never even met the man as far as I know. And honestly, my mother never knew who my father was. So I’m more than a little confused why this man took it upon himself to have you investigate my boyfriend, regardless of what you found.”

  A stunned silence filled my ear before he choked out, “I think we should meet to discuss this, then, Miss King.”

  Chapter 25

  Sin

  I rolled out of bed with the mother of all hangovers.

  Between the whiskey tasting the night before followed by a shit-ton of beer, my head and stomach were equally trying to kill me. Beside me, Cash was snoring so loud it was a wonder the walls weren’t shaking.

  With Lucy’s bachelorette party joining ours at the strip club the night before, Cash and I had ended up sharing a room because the other rooms in the suite were occupied by couples fucking like rabbits all night.

  A long, hot shower later and I was coherent once again.

  And missing Roanna.

  I searched my stuff, looking for my phone, and finally found it tangled in the covers on the bed under Cash. Shoving at his shoulders, I tried to wake him up. “Get up, man. We got a plane to catch in a few hours.”

  Groaning, he lifted his head. “When Gray has his bachelor party, remind me not to drink so much all weekend.”

  “Yeah, I need that reminder myself.” Scrubbing a hand over my face, I tried to turn on my phone, only to realize it was dead. Muttering a curse, I found my portable charging brick and plugged it in, my stomach tossing as I waited for my phone to juice up enough so I could check to see if I had any missed texts or calls from Roanna.

  There weren’t.

  Fuck.

  She was still pissed.

  All weekend, she hadn’t taken any of my calls or responded to any messages. Her damn friends wouldn’t even answer so I could find out if she was okay or not. The one time I did get Genesis to pick up, Ro had hung up the phone before I could even speak to her.

  “Hey.” I nudged Cash with my foot when he started snoring again. “How many flowers do you think it will take for Roanna to forgive me?”

  His face was pressed into his pillow, so his voice was muffled. “What did you do?”

  “Didn’t tell her I was coming with you guys. She didn’t know until Thursday night.”

  “That was kind of shitty of you, dumbass.” He lifted his head, his face pinched as he thought about my question regarding the flowers. “I don’t know. A few dozen at least, I figure.”

  I found the website for the local florist close to Roanna’s apartment. It was open even on a Sunday, so I placed an online order for three dozen red and white roses. It was the first time I’d ever sent flowers to anyone, so I struggled for a few minutes with what to write on the card. Deciding to keep it short and to the point, I went with “I’m sorry, sweet girl” and ended it with a heart emoji and my name.

  She was supposed to get it before my plane even landed at LAX, so I h
oped she would be glad to see me when I got to her place later.

  Everyone was slowly getting up and eating the buffet-style breakfast someone must have ordered beforehand. Platters of scrambled eggs, breakfast meats, hash browns, and French toast were set up. Needing the grease to combat my roiling stomach, I loaded down a plate and sat at the huge dining table the guys and I had played poker at Friday night.

  Kassa and Gray were already sitting there with Kin and Jace. I sat between the two chicks who seemed to be just as hungover as I was.

  “Good thing you drove,” Jace told his girlfriend, feeding her a bite of bacon from his own plate. “You don’t look like you could handle being up in the air today, baby.”

  “It’s your fault,” she grumbled, chewing slowly. “What kind of shit was that we were drinking when we got back here last night? It was so smooth I didn’t even notice I drank so much of it.”

  “That’s because it was a twenty-five-year-old scotch,” Gray informed her. “Harris’s dad called the bar where we did the whiskey tasting yesterday and bought us each a bottle as a memento.”

  “Yeah, well, Jace only has about a third of his bottle left.” She pushed her plate away then folded her arms on the table and laid her head down. “Kassa, no whiskey at your bachelorette party.”

  All the blonde could do was groan in agreement.

  I listened and watched them in silence as I ate my breakfast. When the bachelorette party showed up at the strip club the night before, I started missing Roanna even more. Lucy would have invited her if I’d asked, but that would have meant actually telling Ro about my trip to Vegas before I was ready.

  In hindsight, I should have stopped being a pussy and told her. Then I wouldn’t have to go home to a pissed-off girlfriend, and I could spend the next few days lost in her, where I’d wanted to be all damn weekend.

  I was walking out of LAX with Cash a few hours later when my phone rang.

  Hoping it was Roanna calling to tell me she’d gotten the flowers and she forgave me, I was disappointed to see it was actually Emmie.

  Cash glanced over at my phone as we stopped to grab a cab. “What did you do?” he laughed when I didn’t answer immediately.