Chained Hands (Chained Hearts Duet Book 1)

by T. L Smith

  Copyright © 2021 by T.L Smith

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Warning

  This Ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This e-book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Cover – RBA Design

  Photographer- Michelle Lancaster photography

  Edited – Swish Editing

  Editor - Ink Machine Editing & Nice Girl, Naught Edits

  Proofread – Lisa Edward

  Contents

  DEDICATION

  Blurb

  Variety Gossip

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Variety Gossip

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  First Chapter of My Beautiful Poison

  About the Author

  Also by T.L Smith

  To the girl whose father is a dropkick but still manages to crush this thing called life and not have daddy issues.

  This one is for you.

  Me.

  Blurb

  Sailor

  * * *

  My husband sold me.

  Not only did he sell me, but he told me he loved me while doing the deal.

  What lies he tells.

  Only fools believe him.

  Unfortunately, one of those fools was…

  me.

  * * *

  Keir

  * * *

  I’m not in the habit of buying women.

  I didn’t need to.

  I was a king of my realm, the devil you whispered about in your sleep.

  So, when his debt fell due, he sold me his wife.

  And I was happy because I wanted to play with her like any fool would.

  And play with her, I did.

  Pity, in the end, I would have to kill her.

  Variety Gossip

  * * *

  The King of the Underworld

  * * *

  New York’s most notorious bad boy, king of the underworld and most eligible bachelor, was seen today without a woman once again. But he was snapped with his hands up the skirt of one of New York’s top models, and let me tell you, she was not complaining.

  Pity what they say about him.

  Uses women then discards them.

  Pretty sure I wouldn’t complain about him using me, though.

  Right readers?

  Chapter One

  Keir

  Once, a long time ago, I dreamed I could be a normal man. Like the ones you see holding hands as they walk down the street with their girlfriends, like nothing in the world is a worry to them as they smile, and laugh, and kiss. But then I realized that life is a lie. A big, fat, juicy lie.

  Mine? My fucked-up life is as real as one could ever get.

  The blood that pools at my feet tells me so.

  The fear apparent in this guy’s brown eyes tells me so.

  His life is a lie, just like many others living around me are beautiful lies.

  Licking my lips, I wonder if he would easily go back to his normal, boring life if I gave him a chance.

  Or would he stop living a lie?

  I think we both know the answer.

  The lie is too juicy to let go of it so effortlessly. It’s much easier to live it. Be surrounded by it.

  I don’t like the lie, never lived it, and never intend to. So, when you lie to me, I’ll come along and bleed it from you. I’ll let the blood that seeps from your body tell me your truth.

  If you owe me, that is.

  My father used to tell me, “Boys are just men in the making. You, my son, are a killer in the making. Remember that you will never be a man. You’ll have the needs of a man, yes, but no woman will love the real you.”

  He said those words for as long as I can remember. Reiterating them often.

  I’m not a man.

  I’m a stone-cold killer.

  That’s why this man sitting here pleading for his life doesn’t faze me. Doesn’t stir anything within me.

  Because we know by the end of the day, I’ll walk out of this house.

  And the man with the brown eyes will die burning inside.

  What a beautiful fucking fairy tale ending.

  “Boss.”

  I pull my gun.

  The boys have had their fun.

  It’s time to leave.

  I have other debts to collect.

  “We could stay … play a little longer.”

  I once enjoyed the mere satisfaction of watching a man bleed until he passed out. Or listening to his screams as I gouged out his eyes one at a time.

  But something has shifted.

  Now, I raise my gun, and in an instant, the bullet finds a new home between his eyes, and his head snaps back on impact.

  Looking up, I see Joey shaking his head.

  He wanted to play, and I know that, but I’ll wait to see if he says anything.

  He should know better.

  My patience level is becoming smaller and smaller, and my trigger finger is getting happier and happier.

  Once I was a man who killed simply for the joy of it. The high that followed was unlike any other.

  The hard-on I would get from watching some fuckface die some sort of excruciatingly cruel death would be exhilarating.

  Now, it’s different.

  Now, I fuck because I’m bored.

  And I’m bored a lot.

  And bored is not what you want me to be.

  Chapter Two

  Sailor

  His lips taste sour.

  That’s my first thought after his eager mouth leaves mine.

  His rough hand slides up my skirt, creeping its way up my thigh with intent as we stand outside the club. I didn’t want to come, but he insisted.

  He insists on a lot of things, and like a fool, I follow without question.

  A fool, I tell you.

  I know it, you don’t have to tell me.

  Because, hell, I know.

  But it’s different from the life I had before. So very different.

  “Are you ready?” he asks into the air, not even looking my way as his hand stays where it is, possessively resting on my upper thigh where my leg is covered in ink. I move my stare away from his lips, the ones that have left a bitter taste on my tongue and turn my head to where he’s focusing his attention.

  It doesn’t seem like much to me—an alleyway off a quiet street with only a few cars around us. If I didn’t know this man, I would think he was taking me down this dark, dingy alley to rape me, kill me … gosh, anything a woman’s
worst fears are comprised of.

  But I do know him, and I have for an incredibly long time. The ring on my left hand indicates the reason, and the man whose touch is still lingering on my skin put it there.

  I’m not scared of him, though. And he knows it.

  “Ready for what?” I ask him, nervousness filling my tone since I have no idea what I’m in for tonight. But again, he doesn’t answer me. Typical. He simply smirks before flashing me his extremely white teeth, the ones he just has to brush three times a day. Internally, I roll my eyes just thinking about it.

  Did I mention his habits annoy me?

  A lot.

  His hand drops from my thigh, the cold night air caressing my bare skin the minute he steps away, and for a second, I wish he were back. Back standing in front of me, holding me like a good husband holds his wife. Instead, he hardly gives me a backward glance as he starts walking ahead, expecting me to follow him like a lost puppy. And I do, because no matter how stupid I am for staying with him, I’m not so stupid to be left alone in a dark alley.

  Like, hello.

  Not that dumb.

  Wrapping my arms around my waist, I grasp at the silky material of my violet insanely short minidress that clings to every curve of my body. The one I wore to make him happy. He prefers it when my dresses are short. Easy access, he likes to say.

  Which is weird considering it’s been months since we’ve fucked.

  “Wait, Dillan.” I’m not able to keep up with his pace in my heels, but he doesn’t seem to notice nor care as he approaches a door in the distance. He stops and spins around, a smile spreading across his face that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, then knocks on the door three times.

  I’m about to tell him that we’re at the wrong place, that no one would be down here. There are only three cars on this street and no other businesses are open. But as I go to open my mouth, the door opens, and standing there is a woman dressed in green. From her extravagant jewelry to her beautiful form-fitting dress, down to her embellished stilettos—all green.

  Her eyes lock on Dillan, then move to me. She assesses me, taking her time to scan me from top to toe, leaving me even more confused than I was before. Once she’s satisfied, she nods once and steps back as Dillan grabs my hand and jerks me in behind him. I momentarily try to stay where I am, but his pull is clearly stronger than mine.

  I’m hesitant to move forward, but I do, afraid of tripping in these black heels that are extra high tonight because I wanted to impress my husband, who, by the way, hasn’t even noticed that I’m wearing these gorgeous heels to begin with. Never mind the fact that they cost more than my monthly paycheck. Thank God for rentals. Yes, you heard it through me, I rented them. They are not mine, but how I wish they were. Even if I was brought up to not waste my money on material things, that doesn’t stop me from wanting them. Badly. They make my soul happy.

  “Color?” the woman asks as she shuts the door. I look to her for an explanation, but her eyes are only on Dillan. Mine scan the room, and I don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. It looks like a normal reception area with a seat, black walls, and a white desk.

  “Yellow,” Dillan answers for the both of us, still not bothering to tell me what exactly is going on.

  What the fuck?

  “And your friend?” Her brow raises as if she knows the answer that will be coming. I’m glad she does because I have no idea.

  Dillan finally looks at me, then his gaze continues down my body before squeezing my hand too firmly. He smiles back at the woman in green. “Yellow as well.”

  “Yellow it is.” She places a wristband on Dillan’s arm, then reaches for me and starts to do the same.

  “What’s this for?” I ask, but she’s quiet and won’t look me in the eyes.

  It’s Dillan who answers, “It’s a club, sweetie.” He gently pushes a stray hair back from my face, and I grind my teeth at the sweet gesture.

  “What kind?”

  The woman finishes with my band and tries unsuccessfully to hide her smile as she walks off. Turning to face Dillan, I look down at the yellow wristband and back up at him.

  “Just go with it, okay?”

  I want to argue, to tell him that I just go with a lot of things, and every single one of those things, I do for him and only him.

  But what does he do for me? Nothing lately.

  He comes home smelling of other women, tells me it’s from his work colleagues, and lies about going out all night while I stay home.

  He has brought me with him tonight, thinking I should be thankful.

  I’m not.

  I don’t want to be here.

  A long time ago, I moved away from my family and friends to live with him, and I have been a good wife.

  I can’t say the same for him being a good husband.

  Unfortunately for me, I fell in love with him thinking I could have a nice, normal life. Now, I’m not the same woman as I once was, and times have changed.

  I have changed.

  He has not.

  Dillan pushes open a set of double doors and soft music flows out from behind them. He keeps on walking while I take slow steps, following him cautiously toward the party I can see coming into view. I slink past him, unable to keep my curiosity at bay any longer. Taking one look over the railing, what I see below us has my exceptionally expensive heels locking in place.

  “Dillan,” I say in a soft voice, my words barely making it past my lips. “Where are we?”

  He chuckles and walks up behind me, one hand going to my waist as he moves my hair over my shoulder with his other before whispering in my ear, “We are at a traffic party.”

  “A what?”

  “Red means you’re here to only support or watch, yellow means you’re interested but with someone, green means you’re up for everything.” I glance down at my yellow wristband, then back to the floor below me.

  Sprawling beds and lounge chairs take up the space, all surrounded by naked people.

  It’s like an orgy with a bar.

  “Why are we not wearing red ones?” He stays silent for a moment as he trails his hand from my hair, down my spine, landing on the curve of my ass and squeezing.

  “Because it’s time we spice things up and play. It’s getting old in our bedroom.” His words instantly shock me, punching me right in the gut, forcing my whole body to still.

  That’s not something a wife wants to hear. Ever.

  Is it me?

  No, it’s him as well.

  All he wants is doggy. I hate it but don’t say anything because it’s what he likes. And I want to please him. But it’s been months.

  “I want to leave.” The moment the words leave my mouth, Dillan removes his hands from me, then he smirks and starts walking away.

  “Leave then. But if you do …” He doesn’t finish.

  My heart feels like it’s being stomped on with each and every step he takes down those stairs and farther away from me.

  Chapter Three

  Sailor

  I should have walked away, gotten myself together and left. But we have been together for so long and a part of me did love him at one time, maybe even still loves him. Maybe. Instead, I walk down the stairs to find my husband. Each step I take is a strike to my pride. I never thought I’d be somewhere like this. Especially not with someone who supposedly loves me.

  In an attempt at being independent again, I try to tear at the yellow band on my wrist, branding me as something I am not, but it’s impossible and won’t budge. Scissors will be needed to get this thing off me.

  In a past life, I would have thrived at a place like this.

  But that’s in the past.

  “Hello.”

  Spinning around, I find a woman standing behind me. She’s dressed in only a G-string and steps closer, her lean body almost coming into contact with mine as she reaches for the strap on my top. Expecting her to tell me something, anything, I look up at her, but her bright pink lips say nothing as she l
eans in closer to me. Her body is perfect, and if I was interested in a woman, she would be it. Strong, lean physique, toned abs, and sun-kissed skin.

  “I …” Words fail me as she leans in and places her lips on mine. Nothing else is said before she tries to kiss me. I stand still as a statue, wondering what in the ever-loving fuck is happening.

  When she realizes I’m not kissing her back, she removes her mouth from mine, my pink lipstick now smeared on her plump lips, and she smirks. “First time is always the hardest.” Yeah, not what I was expecting her to say. “Go to the bar, get a drink, and calm your nerves.” Then she walks away.

  Checking behind me, the bar has no patrons right now. Everyone is either with someone or walking around touching others. Not many people are wearing red wristbands, with most being either yellow or green. I tug at mine again, almost snapping a perfect nail in the process, but it still doesn’t budge.

  Huffing, I stay where I am and check around for Dillan—who has just won the husband of the year award for leaving me alone—but don’t find that asshole anywhere.

  It’s time I finally leave him.

  Like, for real this time.

  Not just think about it.

  Because I work from home, I have no friends in our town apart from Dillan’s, and they are loyal to him, not me. My parents are traveling in their camper van, and my friends from home all have lives that don’t include me anymore—and I can’t blame them. Dillan never lets me see them anyway, so I put my everything into Dillan.