by K. S. Adkins
K.S. Adkins
Copyright © 2014 K.S. ADKINS
Published by K.S. Adkins
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Published: K.S. Adkins 2014
Other works by K.S. Adkins:
The Detroit After Dark Series: Available now!
Brutal
Brawler
Berserk
Ballistic
8 Mile & Rion
You can make bad choices and find yourself in a downward spiral or you can find something that gets you out of it. ~Ray LaMontagne
“Bet,” he says quietly slipping into bed beside me.
“Hmm?” I offer absently. Two weeks ago a man came to me shopping a business proposal I could not stop thinking about. He, along with a crew of men were doing something extraordinary, they were recovering missing persons from the Detroit area. To me, the deed was so noble I wanted to support it immediately and fully.
“Could you please take five minutes and listen to me?” he asks in a rare form of frustration.
“I am,” I defend, never taking my eyes from the screen.
“You cannot be considering this,” he argues taking my notes from beside me and reading them.
“Alan, these guys are legit---” I start but was cut off.
“These guys are trouble, Bet. They are hired thugs for God’s sake. You can’t put your name to this.”
Nodding to him and closing my laptop, I lean over and kiss his cheek. “You’re right, Alan,” I whisper hiding my irritation. “I can’t put my name to this.”
When he kisses my cheek and falls asleep feeling victorious no doubt, I smile to myself feeling quite victorious as well. He won the battle; I didn’t put my name to it. I started a dummy corporation and put that name to it instead. This way we’d both be getting what we wanted. Alan won the battle but I was going to help these men win the war.
There’s just something about lake air in your face that makes your mistakes a little easier to own up to. Sitting out here in this hard plastic Adirondack chair overlooking Lake Huron, I admit that it’s years of mistakes that brought me here. There was a time when my life had been damn near perfect. In the blink of an eye and one drunk driver later, it wasn’t so perfect anymore. In fact, life since then has been nothing short of brutal. Nothing made sense to me now, except making money. What else was there to do? Pills helped at first but then when they didn’t, I switched to drugs only that didn’t work either. I know this because I tried all of them. Twice I tried cutting but passed out when I saw my own blood.
Basically, I suck at coping. Every morning I wake up and the world was still turning, laughing and pointing at me, daring me to take it on. For every step forward, I was slapped in the face and reminded that I had no one, nothing substantial and never would. Bad things were still happening to good people and I was still breathing. I’ve had moments of happiness that were fleeting but it wasn’t enough. Closing a deal, a good movie or a fond memory would surface on occasion but, these moments weren’t enough to sustain me.
On paper I had it all but everyone knows you shouldn’t believe everything you read.
Today I owned so many properties that I had opened my own management company to oversee them. I used the money from that to help business owners get their dreams started and that paid off too. Bottom line, in business no one could touch me. My fleet of cars I never drive would rival any celebrity and yet my social calendar was shit. I didn’t have time for friends and in reality, I didn’t really care for people much anymore. When it came to relationships I had lost the skills to maintain them and frankly didn’t care to. The friends I remember were long before my father struck it big and the second that happened I was thrown into a world of snobs and elitists. When people started associating me with money, life got complicated but back then I always had my family.
Two days ago, I had that moment in my office when I looked around and knew that I had much more than any woman needed. The feeling was so intense it suffocated and shamed me. There wasn’t anything that I couldn’t buy, yet I felt hollow. That very night, I packed a bag and hauled ass from Detroit to catch the last ferry in St. Ignace to get to Mackinac Island.
My loss wasn’t to blame for this meltdown, I was. This breakdown had been coming on for years, I’d just been putting it off by becoming besties with denial. I set myself up for this and I came here to sort it out and put things in order. I’m a business woman and everything I do has a reason behind it, an end goal. Most would say I was a bitch, but an independent female with a shit-ton of money tends to put people off. When a woman appears to have her shit together it makes people jealous. A woman who needs no man to keep her limits the dates she gets called for. Bottom line is, I scare people away and I prefer it that way.
Life was easy up until six years ago and I took that life for granted. Back then I wasn’t a bitch and money wasn’t my motivator. That life didn’t exist for me anymore so I gave it up and played the part of bitch like a seasoned actress. The Bet you see isn’t the real me. The Bet curled up watching parents fly kites with their children wishing it were her, that was the real me.
That Bet was lonely.
I may have inherited my parents’ fortune when they passed but, I’d give it all back to hug them one last time. That money was a blessing and a curse. As it allowed me to venture into business for myself as a small business investor here in Detroit, it couldn’t replace what I had lost. No amount of success would.
This weekend was the six-year anniversary of losing my entire family that brought me to an island hours from the dry land I’m used to. Death may be a part of life, but not only did I lose my parents but my husband and daughter too. I lost too much too fast. I was drowning in grief and I knew it. I could take no more. So it was this little island with horse drawn carriages, bicycles and fudge that I’d take that final step to freedom. Fuck the world, the haters and the money.
I wanted the pain to stop long enough to breathe.
I wanted more than anything, to be free.
To do that, I needed to die.
Fill what's empty. Empty what's full. Scratch where it itches. ~Alice Roosevelt Longworth
Listening to her declare her undying love for him tore my God damn heart out. When she asked to see me, I didn’t even have the balls to face her. Rion never loved me as more than a friend, a part of her family and her well-being had been my focus for fifteen years. My life revolved around hers. I didn’t have the exact date when ‘like’ turned to ‘love’ but at some point it had, for me. At least I thought it had and right now I’m not too sure. Facing her now would undo me that much I did know. All these years I had one job, keep her safe and I hadn’t even managed that. Fresh from getting stitches she still worries for me despite nearly being beaten to death hours ago. Loyal got his shit together for her and she never gave up on his crazy ass. Jesus, in fifteen years she never gave up on m
e either. The woman didn’t know the meaning of quit. When Rion cares for you, you never have to wonder if she’s genuine. You just know. What does that say about a man’s character that when he was needed most he was going to leave her hanging for a life of crime? It says he’s a piece of shit.
The drive up took forever. Construction was unbelievable. Christ, it’s a two-lane road in the middle of nowhere and I couldn’t figure out what the fuck they were fixing. It’s not like anyone was actually working, it’s just mile after mile of orange cones. There’s a reason I haven’t been up here in years, the drive is fucking boring. Unless you happen to be getting a blowjob, which for obvious reasons I’m not, it’s only the threat of a deer running out in front of me keeping me awake. My bruised ego from losing the girl that was never mine to a head case of an ex-Marine was fucking with me. On top of it, this damn debt to Adrian hanging over my head, are the only things keeping me from turning around.
Bottom line was, I wasn’t real proud about how I left things back home with Rion and I didn’t like being stuck with myself alone in this truck either. When a man finds himself taking stock of his life on a two-lane highway where there’s more wildlife than traffic, he drives faster. Outside of Rion and now her man Loyal, I had no one. That depressed the hell outta me. I’ve always considered myself a pretty simple guy. I didn’t spend much time with my feelings or any one woman. Never one for permanency, I fucked when I needed to then went about my way. Thing is, that wasn’t working for me either. Random women stopped working for me years ago but I kept it up out of habit. Then the one person who depended on me for everything didn’t need me anymore and I was lost without her to guide me.
Finally, an hour later when I finally see my exit is minutes away, I exhale hard. I hated the Upper Peninsula and I most especially hate Mackinac Island. No lie, there ain’t no cars on this island. There’s horseshit everywhere and don’t forget the screaming kids that wanted Disneyland and got this instead.
Parking in the ferry lot, I grab my ticket and wait on a bench. Opening up the text Adrian sent, I take the time to look over the info he had on her. Scrolling through it, she sounded like a fucking uppity bitch until I saw her picture. She was a bitch alright, a fucking hot one.
Bitches are my kryptonite. Hot bitches are my Achilles’ heel.
Memorizing the info and saving her photo, I board hoping I can get back off this fucking floating nightmare within twenty-four hours. She may be hot but let’s face it, to be on Adrian’s list, she’s probably not very bright. I’ll meet her, charm her, maybe fuck her too because it’s a gift I have, get whatever it is he sent me here for and jump back on the ferry. The only thing about this job that I didn’t like was that he refused to tell me the details until I got here. I don’t care for the uncertainty, but I owed him a favor so it didn’t really matter what it was, I had to do it or get dead for refusing. Twenty-five minutes later, I’m back on dry land and walking the mile (on foot no less) to Mission Point Resort. Checking in, I walk uphill another five minutes and manage to find my lodge in the dark. Fighting with the door and surveying my room, I decided for four bills a night it was a fucking rip off. This shit hole didn’t even have central air. Looking out on the deck and spying a hot tub, I undress, take the lid off and climb in. Fuck, my feet hurt from all this walking shit and I’ll be God damned if I rent a bicycle like the rest of these idiots. A man had to have his limits.
Sinking down into the water, I close my eyes but my Zen gets interrupted when I hear a woman’s voice bitching someone out on the deck connected to mine. We’re separated by a privacy fence but I can hear her fine. She sounds like a pain in the ass like most women are, right up until I heard his name. Slowly moving to the side closest to the fence to eavesdrop better, I’m half in half out of the tub when I hear it.
“You need a financial planner, Adrian,” she laughs, “Not even your best threat and biggest thug could get me to agree to that.” Straining further she continues, “You can’t win this but if it makes your dick feel bigger, I invite you to try.” When a laugh escaped me and she heard it, she lowers her voice. “I’m warning you, you do this I will crush you. I will always crush you, that’s how this works.” Then I hear the patio door open and close, I sink back into the water with a smile on my face. Okay, so she’s feisty too, she gets points for that. But clearly she ain’t too bright like I thought. Adrian ain’t a guy you want to cross. Here I figured, I’d have to find her and track her and the bitch is my neighbor. Smiling again at my stroke of luck, I sink back down to enjoy my soak but still can’t find my Zen.
“Listening to another person’s conversation is considered rude in some situations.” She says from the other side of the fence. Her voice is velvet but stern like she’s big into orders and people taking them.
“Is this one of them situations?” I ask her splashing in the tub for effect.
“No,” she laughs, “It isn’t. Good night, neighbor.”
Why I did it, I’ll never know but I did. “What’s this Adrian want from you?” I ask her casually.
“He wants something that doesn’t belong to him.” she says pulling a chair out to sit.
“Ah, this guy also has a small dick?” I blurt.
Laughing she takes a moment before answering. “His small dick is probably one of his better qualities because it’s one he can’t help.”
“Ouch.”
“If a woman tells you size doesn’t matter,” she whispers, “She’s lying to get closer to your wallet.”
Before I can toss my wallet over or offer my dick as a measuring stick, I hear her patio door open and close. Drying off and dreading going back into that hot ass room, I take a cold shower and pass out with a smile on my face. This trip to Hell Island was starting to look up.
Waking to sunlight blinding me would normally make me crabby. For no other reason than I don’t sleep as much as I’d like to and I hate the interruption in the rare event that it happens. But this morning was different; there were no meetings or conference calls. No assistant guiding me through my day, it was simply a day off.
What a concept.
I was such a workaholic that three hours after giving birth, I had my assistant bedside merging deals while I was breastfeeding my daughter. Running my hands over my not so flat stomach, it felt like a life time ago. My body has changed some, I’m curvier now, fuller and some days I’m okay with it. Lucky for me, today was one of those days.
After making a pot of coffee, I grab the pamphlets I scored from the front desk. Spreading them out, my choices were horseback riding, a haunted tour, dinner with the chef, or a buggy ride. Okay so it wasn’t exactly Disneyland or Vegas but all of it sounded fun. I decided to skip the chef and add a picnic to it and figured this would end up being an easy day to soak it all in.
Calling the stable, I arrange for a twelve o’clock ride which gave me time to grab a real coffee and stock up on food for my picnic. Rummaging through my back pack, I laughed when I realized I didn’t pack a thing that was horseback riding appropriate then said fuck it and decided I’d wing it.
The cool thing about this place is the main hall has a cute café that has a huge selection of fresh food and a killer booze selection. Food and booze, what else did a girl need? Two sacks later, one filled with food the other with my drink, I make it back to my room to refrigerate it before taking a carriage to the stable.
Walking over to the main office, I’m greeted by a man in ‘old school’ attire which is totally little house on the prairie adorable. Part of me wondered if they got a bonus for wearing the outfit but the other part figured they didn’t care because they worked on this beautiful island and probably said the hell with the outfit.
Out in the lot, I’m guided over to an open area where the horses were grazing. The man asked me which horse I wanted and I pointed and said “That one.”
“Have you ever ridden before?” he asks me with a chuckle.
“No, sir,” I reply. “But I’m a quick learner.”
Smiling up at him I nod, “Yes, sir,” I tell him proudly, “I want to ride Strawberry.”
“Let’s get you geared up then.”
Fifteen minutes and six tries later, I had to be hoisted up into the saddle because I lacked the strength to do it myself. Then I’m added to the group, given basic riding instructions, and before you know it I’m heading up to the woods to begin my ride.
Strawberry was everything he said he would be. Super charming, enormously powerful and extremely stubborn. Certainly hungry too because he stopped about every ten yards to eat something he found delicious. Our leader announced we would trot uphill and Strawberry, like a typical male decided to show off. The first thing I noticed was trotting hurt. The second thing was I should have paid better attention to the instructor because every step felt like I was being kicked between the legs.
Pushing the discomfort aside considering I seemed to be the only one having it, I listened to the birds, the huffing Strawberry did to remind me he was the boss and took in the view from up top.
My God, the view was breathtaking and certainly not what I’m used to. I was used to concrete, blaring horns and traffic. This though, this had to be what heaven looked like. The sky went on forever, the water was endless and the trees swayed softly around me. At this elevation even the air smelled heavenly, pure and I wanted more. Living in the city was a loud life compared to this. Days were spent always looking over your shoulder, keeping your doors locked and rarely seeing a tree. Up here, where no one could touch me felt like freedom, a taste of peace. It overwhelmed me, humbled me, and confused me.
I had so many feelings about it that I didn’t know which one to focus on. Finding myself bombarded I struggle to hold it in but somehow manage it. At any given time I was ready to cry, sulk or scream. Take your pick but not today I swore, not right now.
