Seed of Sin (The House of Creed Book 2)

by D. M. Burns

  “You’re not seriously pissed off at me about this… It’s business, Brea.” I swing my arm out at her even though she can’t see me. You’d think she has eyes in the back of her head because she swings around, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, and cocks her leg out letting that fuck-me pump tap out a violent rhythm.

  “Brogan, that wasn’t business and we both know that. What you did was use your power to punish that man and for what? For speaking to me… For being curious… For being human… He did nothing wrong. Jesus.” She runs her hand through her long silky hair flinging it to one side. I watch as it falls beautifully over her shoulder like spun gold.

  “After I crunched the numbers from this deal we’re trying to put together, along with the potential that Highlight is capable of under my management and influence, the profit was flattering. It piqued my interest.” I shrug my shoulders. It’s not a total lie. I don’t acquire companies that I know won’t produce a profit. But the truth is that I bought it as an in your face fuck you to the Black Stallion of Wallstreet, period. But I’m not admitting that to her right now. “I buy companies. You know that about me.” She clucks her tongue on the roof of her mouth and shakes her head.

  “Okay then… Tell me this, does he still have a job?” She taps her long finger blade on her chin and god damn… She’s got me there. I tilt my head to the side and smirk at her. She already knows. Why do women ask shit that they already know the answer to? It’s nothing more than a setup. “Brogan Malic Creed…” Her voice rises and I pull at my tie nervously.

  “Butterfly… That asshole will find another job.”

  “Jesus Brogan… I’m not angry, no. I’m simply disappointed because you’re so much better than that.” Her arms fall to her sides in defeat and she looks off into the room, anywhere but at me. “You’re a good man… But these butthole antics portray you to be ruthless and full of evil. It’s not who you are at all. You’re better than what Mrs. Sims believes you to be. You’re not even aware of what I know exists inside of your soul. I need for you to start believing that too.” She crosses her arms over her stomach seemingly giving herself a comforting hug. “Stop doing things that financially break, cripple, and destroy others… Because the ones that you’re targeting now aren’t bad people, Brogan. Their normal human beings and talking to someone is not grounds for demise or death by a Creed corporate sentencing from you.”

  Shit… She’s quoting me, sorta. My brows scrunch together, and my jaw locks up. Hell, I can’t tap into her thoughts to figure out just how bad I’ve fucked up but from this display, it’s pretty severe.

  “If nothing else, try to remember that it’s not just you any more to consider in the overall scheme of things when making these types of decisions. I’ll also pay for all the spiteful and selfish crap you do right alongside you. Because if someone lashes out in retaliation and hurts you, then I hurt to. Logan is talented. Please give that man his job back.” With that, she walks out leaving me to stare at the door as it softly clicks behind her.

  chapter 29

  Brealyn

  I stab my finger impatiently at the elevator call button like the poor thing can somehow help Brogan’s butthole ways. I still can’t believe that he gave me that bunch of bull about profitable blah-blah, new management blah-blah. No! He bought Highlight just so he could exact his evilness out on Logan.

  Needless to say, I needed space from the Wallstreet God before I kicked him in the sheen with my pointy-toed heel. So, I thought I’d stop by BC Towers and make sure the movers didn’t forget anything. After moving a total of four times since I left my grandparents, I know oh so well how things can get left behind if you fail to double-check. When the doors open up, I step in and plug in Brogan’s security code.

  Granted, Logan gave me the creeper chills today but still, the guy didn’t deserve to be fired. My mind keeps replaying that breakroom run in. I’m trying to figure out how he knew Brogan’s pet name for me or better yet, why he'd feel comfortable enough to use it. Eerily enough, that’s not my greatest worry right now.

  I desperately want Brogan to be the man that I know he’s capable of being and what he did today was the exact opposite. I don’t get involved in his business pursuits or decisions, ever. That’s his world. He excels at it. He’s the ruler. The king. But when Brogan strikes out over something as simple as normal human interaction that involves me, I can’t not say something.

  It hurt my heart when I saw Logan exiting the building. To tell you the truth, it was quite odd. The guy’s facial expression looked as though he lost his best friend. I believe he looked up to Brogan. I’m not for sure but that’s what my gut instincts are screaming out. I can’t be the reason for that and not say something. The guilt that’ll fester inside my soul will weight down on me like a boulder.

  When the doors open up, I step into Brogan’s penthouse and immediately feel overwhelmed. I haven’t been back here since Christmas day. The day Brogan told me to get out and not come back. Looking at this place now, it’s funny to think about it really. How far we’ve come since that day. I look down at my ring and smile.

  Moving through the place, it’s cold and void much like when I visited before but now without Brogan’s signature allure, it’s downright haunting in nature. Our home is the exact opposite of this penthouse palace. It’s warm and bright with inviting colors. It promises laughter and a good life to come.

  Cold chills break out over my body as I move through the rooms making sure nothing catches my eye. My heels tic-tac on the expensive tile when I crossover into his living room. Scanning the bar, I notice the snow globe I gave Brogan at Christmas. It has a mini replica of the Rockefeller Christmas tree sat inside the glass circle that we saw together. I wanted him to have something that could be a reminder of how much fun we both had. And maybe I just simply wanted him to remember me.

  This is why you do a sweep of your place before literally closing the door. I cross the room and pick up the globe, shaking it lightly and watching the flakes blow about. Slowly I move in the direction of the elevator distracted by the beautiful glass trinket but when I look up, I startle to a stop as my eyes focus on Logan standing in front of me.

  Fumbling with the snow globe out of pure fright, I watch as it slips from the tips of my fingers and time slows to a crawl, slow motion. Every second seems to last forever until the globe explodes against the tile, bursting fragmented glass and water trails out in various directions. My eyes crawl back up to Logan as he leans lazily into the arch of the frame. Holy shit… If there was ever a time to curse it’d be now.

  “Brealyn… What a surprise. You’ve got a bad habit of that.” He points to the floor where the mess is tragically obvious and a smile creeps into place on his face. Okay, maybe Brogan was on to something with this guy. Apparently, his instincts for pegging the psychopaths far surpasses mine. Logan chuckles at me and shakes his head.

  “Uhm…” I wrap my hand around my neck then look from side to side. Shit, how do I get out of this? He’s a huge guy. Not quite Channing’s size but not far from that goal. Younger though. He’s probably more agile. “Logan, this is strange. Again, for the second time today, I find myself wondering what you’re doing here.”

  “This place is on the market now. I came to look at it. The one and only, Brogan Malic Creed, has impeccable taste.” He shrugs his shoulders. “You know yourself from the fiancé’s Wallstreet wars and winnings that it pays well.” He winks at me. I know he’s lying. I feel it.

  “Well, that’s not entirely true,” I say. Logan’s eyebrows crease in confusion. “What I mean is, I don’t actually know what his earnings are from it. I don’t dabble in his bank account or finances.” I mumble.

  “That’s a telling trait. But knowing that man, he probably set you up with an account of your own.”

  He’s right but I don’t touch that kind gesture. I’m also not going to confirm that with this guy either. He steps into me and I step back. I can hear the crunching of the snow globes gl
ass particles breaking into a powder form under my heels.

  “That’s normally the first thing women sniff out, the bankable possibilities.” He squints his eyes trying to dissect my mind. “You’re a frustrating read.” He mumbles.

  “What do you mean by that?” My words come out shaky and I try to clear my throat. I need to leave, now.

  “There are only three possible scenarios playing out here. One… Either you’re a mute mind, which is highly unlikely because the Wallstreet God wouldn’t be enthralled by you if so. Two… You’re one of us.” My eyes widen and my mouth gapes open before I snap it shut. “Doubtful though, considering your feeble and somewhat clumsy in nature. Or three… Something much more riveting is taking place here. I’m eagerly hoping for door number three though.” He smiles sinisterly. I’m momentarily at a loss for words. Logan is a Lone Walker.

  “Are you Brogan and Channing’s brother?” I ask. That’d explain the similarities in his bone structure. Plus, being in a room with either of these men present, you feel insignificant because they're larger than life. Typical DNA traits and it’d make sense.

  “The younger but by far the more gifted brother.” He winks at me.

  “Uhm… Okay. Well, uhm… Wha-what can you do?” That just fell out of my mouth, Jesus.

  Nobody should ever tell me secrets because under pressure, I crack. If he didn’t know about the Creed brothers secret before, I just kinda gave it away. I’m stumbling over my words. I’m generally interested in the background of this guy and my questions are endless, but I’m frightened as all hell to be near him. I know he has ulterior motives here, none of which are good.

  “Everything.” His eyes light up with confident and cocky humor. A twisted and morbid feeling washes through my senses making me swallow hard.

  “Well…. Wow, okay. I can call Brogan and Channing. Would you like to meet them? I mean… Outside of work. We can possibly all get together, maybe.” I say as I pull my phone out of my pocket.

  The phone unexplainably soars out of my hand landing against the wall across the room with an impact that turns the device into nothing more than busted up technical glitter dust. My head whips in that direction only to snap back to Logan. He places his finger over his lips shushing me in a sly gesture. Conveying that this is a secret between just us and I’m not to repeat it.

  “I tried that but as I’m sure you know, Brogan’s not a very receptive man. You’re his only concern.” That’s why he looked hurt today after Brogan pulled his butthole crap. Logan only wanted to get to know his brother and Brogan shut his attempt down, fatality.

  “You have to understand that he didn’t know who you were, Logan,” I whisper.

  “You have one chance to fuck up with me. Brogan has managed to burn me twice over. He won’t get a third go at it. But this is about you, not him.” His voice is cold and insistent. I don’t know how to respond to that. “I like you; you know. He chose well.” He smiles wide. If Logan didn’t wear deranged so well, he’d be nothing short of male perfection. “I’m hoping you don’t take this personal. I have a theory to test out.” I’m not sure what he’s talking about.

  “Okay, well if you have a question, Logan, you can just ask me.” I don’t know where that came from or why I tossed that out there. It’s airborne now so, I guess I’ll just roll with it. Maybe he’ll get lost in conversation and decide not to shank me for Brogan’s butthole ways. He smirks at me again. It feels like an evil silent introduction for things to come. Things he had plotted out in his mind way before this run in.

  “What’s the appeal? Other than the obvious checklist that most women have with someone such as Brogan Creed. What do you find compelling about the man?”

  “Why?” I whisper out.

  “You offered. Now, answer my question.” He demands.

  Logan advances again and I fall back bumping into one of Brogan’s bar stools. I ball my fists up out of instinct, even though anything that I might attempt to do to this man will be nothing short of entertaining where he’s concerned. My heart is in my throat and I try to calm my breathing.

  “He’s unique in every way to me. Uhm… There’s so many different things that I can’t list them all.” My hushed tone comes out quivering. It sounds weak and it ticks me off.

  “Give me one.” He holds up his index finger. Those electric emerald green eyes fixated on me.

  “His heart runs deep and even though I know you can’t see it; he cares about so many things. He doesn’t show it, ever. The black cloak is always firmly in place disguising his kindness. Hidden from everyone.” He tilts his head to the side like he doesn’t fully believe what I’m saying. “Uhm, like I know Brogan donated over twenty million last year under his partner's names to needy children because he didn’t want anyone to know it was him. If that wasn’t enough to solidify my feelings, he’s the silent owner of over seventy-five abused and battered shelters for women. His heart is remarkable.”

  “Thought you didn’t rummage through his finances.” He quips on a smirk. Acting as though he’s caught me red handed in a lie.

  “I haven’t but my friend works in the accounting department at The House of Creed. She might’ve told me.” I feel bad for throwing Bethany under the bus and breaking my promise to keep quiet but my nerves are shot. It slipped out. This can round back to that whole don’t tell Brea-bee things in confidence, EVER. “I know what he did to you today was wrong. But he, uhm… Well, he’s sorta protective of me.”

  “I don’t fault him there. You seem to have that effect on all the Creed’s.” He chuckles.

  “To be exact, Logan… Brogan was my familiar stranger that I was meant to meet.” I whisper. He nods but I’m not so sure he understands. He’s probably just agreeing so this topic of conversation will be over.

  “Does he know though?” His words come out with an undercut of sarcasm coupled with a side smirk.

  Logan quickly steps into me grabbing my wrist and jerking me into his hard body. He slides his hand over my stomach and I gulp down the fear inching its way out of my windpipe. His hand is cold and I shiver under his touch. My body locks up and I’m quivering from the inside out. He rubs my lower belly gently and gives me a knowing smile. The whimper I held back a moment ago filters into the air without my permission. Logan’s lips are only a fraction away from mine. I can feel and smell his minty fresh breath.

  “Does. He. Know?” His voice is velvety and laced with conviction.

  “What do you mean?” My hesitation is only a means to stall in answering. We both know it. He tsk me and smiles wide.

  “Don’t play with me lady… Does he know you’re pregnant, Brealyn?” He whispers across my face and the smile that slowly appears is haunting. Jesus… I shake my head no and swallow my fear while chills coat my skin. Logan’s head falls back, and he laughs out loud. The sound filters through the empty space. How the ever-loving heck does he know?

  “I don’t understand… How?” My one-word question is barely voiced but he hears it all the same.

  “Your secret is safe with me. Remember not to take this personal. If my hunch is right, I win. If not, then you have another chance. Either way we both win, yeah?” He says.

  “You’re scaring me.” I admit. “Please let me go.”

  Logan’s eyes appear sad for a moment but then they quickly change over to resolute. Hardened by decisions and actions to come. Those lanterns light up with a sea green glare that reminds me of an electric neon sign switched on in the midst of the pitch-dark night. It’s hypnotic and I’m frozen against this mans hardened outline. He slips his hand free from my stomach inching into his pocket and I go to look down but he tsk me again.

  “Eyes on me Brealyn.” The soothing allure of his voice demands that you obey and so I do. Held to a set of eyes that seem to calm me, pampering in nature. It’s a weird phenomenon. A trance like effect has captured my body and mind. I can’t move.

  I hear a sound that’s comparable to a switchblade then I feel a deep internal
burn at my side and my body flinches upon impact, but I don’t break eye-contact with this man. Lightning quick, the cold steel swiftly slices across to the other side of my stomach. I don’t feel pain, only a loss taking over the chambers of my heart. A callous hardening of any warmth kept there.

  The breath whooshes out of my lungs and my knees buckle as my footing gives way but Logan holds tight to me. When he releases me and steps back, he lowers me carefully to the floor. Like I’m his precious child he’s laying to rest. A sacrifice. An offering. My body is sprawled out on the cold tile like the dead weight that I am.

  Deadly Decisions.

  Deadly Choices.

  Giving birth to a future of Death.

  My mind doesn’t care about my future, just that of my child. The memory of Brogan’s sketched drawing from the cave appears in my head. That of him and the little boy holding hands. Oh, God…

  Looking down, the evidence of Logan’s evil is confirmed. There’s a deep red contrast covering my shirt. I stare at my trembling hands covered in my own blood. Now that Logan has let me go, I can feel the excruciating agony from his culinary skills.

  Cradling my stomach, I tilt over onto my side feeling the warming sensation that is my blood trickling out onto the floor. Flowing freely like the sands from a delicate glass neck of an hourglass with a timeframe countdown. Pouring out the final minutes of my baby’s life.

  “Jesus… My baby…” My voice is barely heard as I try to convey my heart's biggest fear.

  “The Seed of Sin.” He shakes his head slowly from side to side. “Time will tell if my theory is true. I believe you’re the key.” His voice is sure and solid in his statement.

  I lock my eyes on Logan as he wipes my blood off the knife. He closes it and places it back into his pocket. He bends down at the knees and I see his jaw twitching as he swipes his hand over his jawline. It’s like this image of me hurts for him to look at. Which is ironic. After all, this is his bloody masterpiece.