Vicious Rebel (82 Street Vandals)

by Heather Long

  At the third mention of her ID, I got it—that part still irked. I still had all of that securely stashed away. If she wasn’t a prisoner, she had the right to her own information.

  “I had Doc drop me off,” she continued, her gaze still a million miles from here and her voice going more distant. “He didn’t like it, but…I thought it would be better to not have anyone with me if I turned up and suddenly cops were everywhere. Maybe it was stupid to go back, but my face has been on the news. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to get blamed for my kidnapping.”

  “You wanted to protect us.” That shouldn’t surprise me, but it did. We’d done her no favors. Not really. Yes, we’d tried to make her comfortable, but we’d also ripped her away from the only life she’d ever known. Fine, we took care of Eric, but a bullet to the head would have solved him without the torture.

  That had just been a perk.

  “I guess,” she admitted, then let out another long sigh. When she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders, I braced. Here was the admission I’d been waiting for. “I was across the street from the hotel, all set to cross and go inside, when I saw my uncle and some of his men come out.” Nothing warm inhabited the frigid tone she used.

  Her uncle was not an ally. I knew enough about the Sharpe family to know Bradley Sharpe was a key figure in their corporate maneuverings. Her father, Reginald Sharpe, was the CEO and aloof. His younger brother, Bradley, though? He was unpredictable. They had more money than god and seemed above approach.

  And the heiress to all of that performed in shows that traveled across the country and had since she was a child. Something about that picture had always rubbed me the wrong way.

  “Not a friend,” I said when she’d gone quiet.

  A quick shake of her head. “No. And not someone I would ever go to for help. I’d bleed out first.”

  Bradley Sharpe was going to die. By inches or with a bullet to the back of the head, all I needed were some details.

  She finally took a bite of the toast, and I let her have the delaying tactic. If the Sharpes were in on the threats to her, that was a whole other rat’s nest of problems.

  “I shifted gears. I couldn’t go back. So I headed away, and I didn’t know where I was going. No plan. No ID. No money. What the hell was I going to do? I’ve always prided myself on being independent, and at the same time, I’ve been in a cage my whole life. A schedule told me where I would be, a car arrived to pick me up, handlers shuttled me from one location to another. For a while—”

  The sudden sheen of tears in her eyes had me pushing aside my empty coffee cup and circling the table. When I held out my hand, she took it, and I pulled her into my arms and did the one damn thing I’d been wanting to do since the day I met her.

  I gave her a fucking hug.

  I swore she shuddered, and then her whole body seemed to relax into me. Tucking my chin against her hair, I said, “You’re safe here, Sparrow. You’re safe with us. I know it doesn’t always feel like it and sometimes we can be real bastards, but there’s not a man here who wouldn’t take a bullet for you or tear apart anyone who tried to hurt you.”

  Gladly and with relish, but I kept that last part to myself.

  “But why?” she asked, pulling back enough that I had to loosen my grip so I could meet her gaze. “Why do all of you care so much? Before the show, I’d never even met you.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” I said. “But we’ve followed your career for years. Kept an eye on you from a distance. You always seemed fine, but I’m starting to get that was the public face you put on and that the picture behind the scenes was a lot uglier. A lot more dangerous for you.”

  “Well, you know about Eric.”

  I nodded.

  Closing her eyes, she sucked in a slow breath, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned in and rested her forehead against my chest. “I just want to understand all of you. You kidnapped me to save me. You saved me from Eric…”

  “There are other threats,” I told her, and while Jasper hadn’t or hadn’t wanted to, she needed to know. “That swipe in the garage, I’m pretty sure that was an attempt to kill you.”

  She tensed, but I pressed on.

  “More than once, someone tried to follow us from the theater back to your hotel. I lost the tail each time.”

  Her nails dug into my arms.

  “The night you wanted me to watch you, someone messed with the silks. One of them tore, and you damn near fell for real.”

  Finally, she pulled back to look at me. I met her gaze, then raised a hand to caress her cheek. I couldn’t help myself. I really did want to just wipe away all the pain and sorrow in her eyes.

  “Your world was supposed to be safe,” I told her slowly. “A world of wealth, privilege, and family.” The last came out a little more bitter than I wanted. “But we’re all discovering you weren’t safe, and we didn’t see it soon enough.”

  She swiped her tongue over her lower lip. It left a glistening trail that I had a hard time not thinking about.

  “So, we took you. We brought you here to protect you.”

  “You didn’t want me here.” It wasn’t an accusation, but at the same time, it kind of felt like one.

  “No,” I admitted. “I didn’t. But not because I didn’t want you.”

  Surprise flickered across her face, and I didn’t let that scratch at me. She had no reason to think I’d be attracted, since I’d made a point of keeping her at arm’s length.

  “I wanted you safe. Our world isn’t safe.” The last time I’d been safe, I’d been six years old and I got on a bus in the rain. “But it turns out yours isn’t either.”

  Her laugh lacked any real humor. “No, I guess not. My uncle, he’s not a good man. He’s—-” Real fear inhabited her eyes, and I added filleting the son of a bitch to my list. “He’s just not. I’d rather live in anonymity than ever go back to him.” She swiped her tongue over her lips again. The urge to kiss her bore down on me like a physical weight, but I shut it the fuck out.

  What Emersyn needed was comforting, and I needed information. If I kissed her, I didn’t think I’d be able to fucking stop until she moaned for me like she had for Vaughn. I swore my dick damn near throbbed at the prospect.

  “If you really knew me,” she said finally. “I don’t think you’d want anything to do with me.”

  “I’ll let you get away with that,” I told her, but I cupped her face so I could keep her gaze on me. “Because you don’t know us well yet. We’re going to change that. All of us. We’re going to make a new path forward, and you’re going to find out that nothing you could tell us—literally nothing—would change how we feel or your place here.”

  Surprise parted her lips. She searched my face, and I hoped like fuck my expression confirmed every single word I’d just spoken. Because I damn well meant it.

  “He’s right,” Jasper said, his voice rough. I glanced past her to see my brother standing in the doorway, eyes bloodshot, hair wet, and clean clothes on. “Keeping you safe is our priority.” He took a couple of steps into the room, and Emersyn turned around in my arms. I loosened my hold, but when she stepped back against me, I kept them around her.

  Jasper looked like hell.

  “You can tell us or not, we’re all entitled to our secrets,” Jasper added. “No one will force you.” Then he exhaled and flicked his gaze up to mine before looking back at her. “You’re not a hostage. You’re not a prisoner. We’ll give you all your things back, and if you want to leave for real, if you want to be somewhere else, we’ll get you there.”

  Fuck.

  Was he for real right now? I frowned. I’d said all along she didn’t belong here, but the truth was, she fucking fit us in a way no one else ever had. “Maybe we’ll discuss what challenges she had at—”

  Jasper raised his hand and then shook his head. “Sorry, Kel, I just…I need her to know that I’m not a total asshole, even when I’m an asshole.” The level of hurt and p
ain in his voice killed me, but he kept shoving it down. “In fact, Emersyn, if you would, would you come and talk to me? I think you and I have a lot of things we need to say.”

  It was my turn to blow out a breath. Emersyn glanced back up at me for a moment, but I tried to shoot for neutral. She and Jasper absolutely needed to talk, but I wanted to get him a beer and pull out of him where he’d been.

  “Please?”

  It was the please that got her moving. She stepped away from me and said, “Yes. You’re right—we need to talk. Maybe all of us do, but…” Then she glanced back at me and smiled. A real one. One that warmed her eyes and bled the shadows out of them. One she’d reserved for when I picked her up at the hotel room and I hadn’t seen since she realized ‘I was in on the kidnapping.’

  It was a kick to the nuts in the right way.

  “But Kellan’s told me some things and it helped.” She glanced back to Jasper. “If we can find that same honest footing, I’d like that.”

  “Me too,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Come with me?”

  I had zero doubt she’d take his hand, and I folded my arms. I wanted to keep her here with me and talking to me. That wasn’t what she or Jasper needed.

  “Stay close,” I advised. “Let me know if you decide to leave.”

  “We’re going up to the roof,” Jasper said. “Don’t worry.” He lifted his shirt to show the gun tucked into the belt there. “I’ll protect her.”

  I only nodded. I didn’t have the heart to ask who was going to protect him from her. Because as much as I was invested, Jasper was in love, and while I’d never seen him so deep into a girl before, Emersyn wasn’t just any girl.

  Fuck.

  Hell’s Waiting Room

  Emersyn

  The dress itched. The collar was too tight. The lace poked at me. The shoes were the wrong size. I said nothing as they dressed me up. The instructions had been specific. No sooner had I arrived than one of the maids swept me upstairs.

  I’d at least expected to see my mother and father first, but the event that evening was very important and appearances had to be kept. As much as I tried not to fidget, the woman plaiting my hair kept yanking it. I glared at her in the mirror and opened my mouth to say something as the door opened behind her.

  “There’s my princess!” The deep timbre of his voice rolled over the room. The maids attending me scattered as he approached. “Jeanette, don’t pull her hair back. It makes her look too severe, and she doesn’t like it.”

  I lifted my gaze to meet his in the mirror. “Thank you, Uncle.”

  He smiled, smoothing a hand over my hair and untangling the plaits. My scalp still tingled from where she’d been yanking it.

  “Yes, sir,” Jeanette simpered and stared at my uncle with a kind of adoration. All the maids did. In his house, he was worshipped. He was the king, and I was his princess.

  “Where is my hug, Princess?” His hand skated down to my shoulder, and I turned before he pulled me back. I wrapped my arms around him, careful of the dress, and let him press me to him. My head only reached his belly, and I held my breath to not breathe in his cologne. “That’s my girl. You can all leave us.”

  “The party…” Jeanette began.

  My uncle didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The maids scurried out of the room, and then we were alone. He stroked my hair, and I didn’t move away from the hug until he leaned back and caught my hands.

  “Come here, Princess. Tell me about school.” He settled neatly into the armchair in the room he’d had decorated for me. It was a suite of rooms, or so the maids said. It came with the bedroom, the small sitting room outside, and the bathroom.

  With a sigh, I climbed into his lap. When I would have perched on the arm of the chair, he tugged me down to sitting on his thigh. I was too old for this, but Uncle Bradley never wanted to hear that. When we were alone, he liked to cuddle me.

  His favorite part of the day.

  I tried not to shift around, but the dress itched. They hadn’t made me pull on stockings or shoes yet, so I braced my toes against the arm of the chair. I could at least free some of the itchy stuff away from the backs of my thighs.

  “It’s fine,” I said, answering his question about school. “Mrs. Holloman is really neat. She lets me read whenever I’m done with assignments. I don’t have a roommate anymore.” I’d liked Lainey. It had been the first year the school assigned me a roommate, but I’d made the mistake of mentioning her to my mother and she must have told Uncle Bradley.

  “Good,” he murmured, rubbing my back. “You should have a space of your own at the school. What about your riding lessons, how are they going?”

  Equestrian lessons had been added to my daily routines, but it cut into my dance time and I made a face. I loved the horses, but I loved dance more. Madame B was brusque and strict, but I had learned so much from her. A compliment from her was a worth a thousand from anyone else, and she’d given me a great compliment the day before.

  “They’re fine,” I said, fidgeting before I could stop myself and then pressing my toes into the arm of the chair and digging them in to try and keep myself still.

  “Just fine, Princess?” He chuckled, still rubbing a slow circle against my back. “You don’t like them?”

  I made a face and then sighed. Glancing up, I found his steady stare on me. The corners of his mouth lifted at my attention.

  “You can tell me,” he prompted, looping his arm around me and tugging me closer.

  “It’s not that I don’t like them,” I hedged. “I love the horses. They’re very sweet, even if they are huge. It’s just—”

  Again, I hesitated, because I didn’t want to admit this to him. I couldn’t even tell him why I didn’t want to tell him. He never got angry at me for not liking his presents.

  Sometimes, I didn’t think he cared if I liked them or not.

  I bit the inside of my lip.

  “It’s just?” he said, tapping my lower lip with his finger. “No biting these pretty little lips. We don’t want them to chap.”

  I stopped immediately and squared my shoulders. “It’s just I had to give up two days of dance.”

  “And that’s important to you?” He tightened his hold until I settled more firmly against him, and I had to stop pressing against the other arm with my toes and let him have all my weight.

  Grasping my courage in both hands, I met Uncle Bradley’s stare head-on. “Madame B says I’m a natural and gifted.” Two words that made me beam with pride. “She said she recommended me to the Poppy Teague troupe and sent them tapes of me dancing.” I licked my lips, because despite rehearsing this, my heart fluttered so fast, it made me feel a little sick and there was sweat dampening my back. “I will need Mummy and Daddy’s approval, but if I get in, I could travel and perform with them.”

  All over the country.

  All over the world really.

  Few breaks.

  I might not even make it home for the holidays.

  The minute Madame B warned me of how grueling the schedule could be, I’d gotten excited. I wanted to perform. I wanted to spend all day, every day on my dancing, and I wanted…

  “The Teague company,” Uncle Bradley mused, rubbing a finger against his lower lip. “I know Anya Teague, she’s the original Poppy’s granddaughter. Nice enough girl, family doesn’t make the best choices.”

  I held my breath.

  “Though I would say the dance company is distinguished.”

  I went to bite my lip again and stopped because my uncle watched me with these deep, black eyes. It was almost impossible to tell where the pupil ended and the iris began. I thought his eyes were neat.

  Uneasiness fluttered through me.

  “How important is this to you, Princess?”

  “Very,” I admitted. Because…

  He nodded slowly. “Give us a kiss, and I’ll let you know at the end of the weekend. I’ll talk to your parents too.”

  “Really?” Genuine surpris
e fluttered through me. I’d expected that to be much harder. I’d liked having a roommate. I loved my first dance teacher. I loved my old school.

  Uncle Bradley liked to fix things, even if they didn’t need fixing. Sharpes didn’t need roommates. Andrew, the dance instructor, was neither skilled nor focused enough to push me to my best. My old school was too far away, Uncle Bradley preferred I could come home on weekends without a flight.

  “Really,” he promised as he tapped his cheek. Excitement threaded through me, and I leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. He turned his head and pressed his lips right to mine. The band of his arm and surprise kept me in place. It didn’t last longer than a few seconds, but it seemed forever.

  When he leaned his head back, he laughed and brushed another kiss to my forehead.

  “Let’s get you out of this awful dress,” he suggested, sweeping me up and walking with me into the closet. My heart began racing, and my stomach tightened as bile itched up the back of my throat, but I swallowed it back down.

  “I can do it, Uncle Bradley,” I assured him as he put me down on the round cushioned stool that occupied the center of the huge closet.

  “Don’t be silly, dressing up my princess is one of my favorite things to do.” He moved to close the door and pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh, don’t tell Jeanette or the others, but they have horrible taste and that itchy dress can’t be comfortable.”

  It wasn’t. “I can wear it. I know you wanted me to be presentable…”

  But he was already undoing the dress and freeing the buttons. I sighed and looked up at the shelf above, fixating on a box with some ribbons poking out of it. Uncle Bradley liked to make sure I was okay. No hurts or injuries anywhere. Sometimes he squeezed. To check. Sometimes he poked.

  He used to wait for my baths.

  Sometimes for when I got ready for bed.

  “We have plenty of time,” he promised. “We can find the perfect one.”