by René, Dani
But I wasn’t what he was looking for. No, he needed the fortune my father had. Only, when my parents were gone, and he realized there wasn’t a family inheritance, Michael turned sour. For days after the funeral, I wondered what happened to him, but then I overheard his conversation, and the truth struck me like a slap in the face.
Michael inadvertently killed my parents. All he ever wanted was the money, but there was nothing left. My dad owned his own company, and we lived in luxury all those years, but it wasn’t because of profits. It was because of loans from dangerous men, and when Mom and Dad were gone, they came to collect. All Chance's and my so-called inheritance went to pay off debt. It was either that, or we work for them. There wasn’t a chance that was happening.
My job as the PA to an event planner has just gone belly up, but thankfully I managed to put away enough money for a rainy day or ten. Chance has been lucky. He landed a job at an established law firm helping with research and earns enough to get by without me.
When I told him I wanted to go to Chicago to see Savvie, the following day, my brother gave me the keys for an apartment he told me is paid up for two months. Enough time for me to find a job when I get there and pay my own way.
“You’ll find love, Pey. You know that, right?” He looks so serious, a genuine expression on his face.
“Don’t start that, Chance,” I tell him, pushing off the bed and pulling on my sweater. It’s almost time to get to the airport, and since I’m flying from JFK, I need to leave soon to ensure I don’t miss my flight.
“I’ll come visit as soon as that goddamn man gives me time off,” he grumbles. His boss works him too hard. Even him being here for an hour to say goodbye to me was a mission to achieve.
“I love you,” I tell him, knowing he has to get back to work. His messy blonde hair is sticking up in all directions from being flopped on my bed.
“Look after yourself, Toots,” he tells me with grin. When my brother pulls me into a hug, I can’t stop the tears from burning my eyes. I don’t want to cry. I know this isn’t goodbye, but it feels so much like I’m leaving him, and that hurts. It’s just been the two of us for so long that I don’t remember a time I wasn’t by his side, or vice versa.
“You too, little bro.” I smile as he pulls away. His face is stoic as he steels his expression. Always the strong one.
“I love you, Pey. And don’t let some asshole shove you around. If someone hurts you, I’ll be on the next flight out. You hear me?” he tells me in that commanding yet loving tone. Even though I’m older by a few minutes, he’s always been the more mature one. The rock.
“Don’t make me cry. I’ll call you when I get there.”
He nods and leaves me to finish up.
Once I have everything packed, I lock up and head out to the cab waiting on the sidewalk. I don’t have much, but the suitcase I do have is filled with clothes, photos of Chance and me, and a lot of hopes and dreams.
* * *
“I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here, darling. If you need anything, you’re welcome to let us know.” The old lady who has shown me to my new home smiles up at me kindly.
I nod. “Thank you, this is lovely,” I tell her, and it’s true. She offers a grin before shutting the door behind her and leaving me in my new apartment. The immaculate space is comfortable enough for one person. Furnished with two simple yet comfortable sofas, an armchair, and a window seat, the colors are neutral, and I love that it’s not overdone.
Living without luxury for so long has allowed me to get used to the normal middle-class life. There are no longer boutique stores I frequent, and Michelin-star restaurants are not the order of the day. But somehow, even without all the money we used to have, I find I’m happier. More at ease. I have nothing to prove to anyone.
I head straight for the bedroom, finding a lovely king-sized bed flush against the wall opposite the entrance. To my left is a small vanity, and just beyond that is a window which has a small bench seat. To the right, I notice a closet. It’s small, but it’s a walk-in with shelves and hanging space enough for me.
I’m tired, and I know Savvie wanted to meet up. Perhaps I can put it off until tomorrow. She’s been begging me to visit Sins, and even though I’m intrigued, I’m also nervous. Being with one man all my life has left me inexperienced. She mentioned a while ago she wanted to set me up with Mason’s partner, Carrick, but something happened since we spoke last that’s changed her mind. Of course, this has left me curious. And you know what they say about curiosity killing the cat.
I’m about to see if I can find some food when my phone rings.
“Hey girl,” I answer with a smile.
“Pey, I’m so excited to see you. Are you coming by later, or did you want to spend a night relaxing before coming down to Sins?” She sounds so hopeful, I want to say yes, but I think I need time to settle in.
“Yeah, I think I need some time to get my bearings. I’ll be there tomorrow, Sav. I’m nervous,” I confess to her on a sigh. I feel like a damn virgin. Scratch that, I am a virgin, unlike my best friend.
“Try not to be. You’ll be fine. You won’t be alone. Think about it, Pey. Many others have been where you are. I have as well. I’ll introduce you to a few lovely Dominants. Get your toes dipped in the pool, so to speak. Also, you don’t have to have sex. I know . . . I mean, being as innocent as you are, I want your first time to be special, and who knows? If you like someone, maybe you’ll let go, and if not, then it’s fine as well,” she whispers conspiratorially.
“I know. I feel so out of my depth. What Dominant is going to want a virgin?” I huff. “I mean, I’m twenty-two. I’m old,” I pout.
“You’ll be very fucking surprised, darling. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Just let things happen. Everything will fall into place, and if you’re not enjoying yourself, you can say no.”
Sighing, I settle on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I know she’s right. There’s nothing more I want than to experience sex, passion, that hunger I see between Savvie and Mason.
“I’m seriously only considering this since you’ve suggested it,” I tell her, and I can’t help grinning at her excited giggle.
“Sure you are,” her response comes, and I know she’s probably more excited than I am. “Listen to your heart. If you feel you want to do a scene, then I’ll set it up. If not, we can get drunk, and you can ogle all the men who walk in here every night.” She makes it sound so easy. “I know it’s difficult, but if you never try, you’ll never know. What if you find out you love it? Listen to me, Peyton, this is not for everyone, I know that, but deep down, all I want is for you to be happy. You could have a scene with one of the experienced Doms. I’ll tell him you’re new, and you’re just wanting to try it out. And I’ll be close by if you need anything.”
“I know. Thank you for doing this, darling. I’ve been stuck in that goddamn rut for so long, when Michael finally got put away, when my sadness took over, I just gave up for too long. I was angry, and now all I need is to not think so much. Chance has been a sweetheart putting up with me, but it’s time for me to sort my life out.”
Savannah sighs. “You just need to move the fuck on from that asshole. He used you all those years. He made you believe in a lie. Not all men are like that, babe. And don’t even get me started on his fucking job,” she bites out angrily. “You deserve someone who’s going to care for you. Who can be there for you no matter what happens in your life.”
“You’re right.” I flop back onto the bed.
“I’m always right, Pey,” she responds sassily.
“Does Mason agree with that statement?” I tease, giggling when she grunts into the phone.
I’ve spent time around them, and I must be honest. I’m jealous over how much he dotes on her. She’s his everything. I want that. I would give anything to have a man look at me the way Mason looks at Savvie.
“He’ll agree to anything at this stage. I’ve told him I’ve gotten us tickets to the Rome
Bondage Fair. He’s been wanting to go for years. Carrick has agreed that he’ll be here to look after the club while we’re gone.”
At the mention of Carrick, I recall Savvie’s spoken about Mason’s partner in the club a few times, even mentioned she’d set me up with him, but apparently, he’s an asshole who plays the field. I’ve only ever seen photos of him, and I must be honest. He’s definitely sexy. He has a suave aura about him. Dresses in immaculate suits. Brown hair that glints with hints of gold, which sits messily atop his head. He's got sharp features, with a prominent jaw and full lips that make me want to feel them against mine in a hungry kiss. And those goddamn eyes. Gold with flecks of green and brown.
“Are you listening to me, Pey?” My best friend’s voice comes from the other end of the line, dragging me from thoughts of Carrick Anderson.
“Yeah, sorry. Uhm . . . No, what did you say?”
“You get some rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll be here at six, so don’t be late,” she informs me sternly. She’s always been like an older sister to me. Between her and Chance, I don’t know how I would’ve made it through the heartbreak of Michael.
“Thanks again, love,” I tell her.
Once I hang up, I head to the bathroom. I need a shower and sleep. And tomorrow will be the first day of my new life. Maybe I can talk Mason and Carrick into giving me a job. Who knows?
3
Carrick
My phone ringing drags me from a heavy sleep, dreaming of a time when things were easier. But when I glance at the screen, I know as much as I’ve run away from that life, it’s never let me go. Swiping my finger over the screen, I press the phone to my ear only to hear my brother’s voice. “Rick.”
“Callan.” I utter my brother’s name groggily. My voice heavy with sleep from dreams of the past. Pushing off the bed, I glance at the time and notice it’s far too early for him to be calling. As I head into the kitchen, I question, “To what do I owe the pleasure of a call from you?”
“Do you remember why you left?” he questions in that rich English accent that’s heavier than mine, his voice deeper, and I know he’s angry or frustrated.
Even though I’ve been in America for so many years, I still hold onto mine as if it’s the only link I have of my old life. “How could I forget, brother?” I bite out harshly, earning me a dark chuckle from Callan.
“I have news for you, and it’s time to get back at the man who stole everything from us.” His words have my mind reeling, and I’m suddenly awake. A memory assaults me violently as I shut my eyes, willing it away. But it never leaves.
“Carrick.” The voice comes from behind me. I recognize it instantly. The man who raised me to be this monster. Don’t get me wrong. I love him, he’s my father, but deep down I wish he’d chosen a different life for me. Something other than becoming a man so feared around the country that an utterance of my name sets someone into panic mode.
“Dad.” I turn to him, shrugging on the suit jacket for my sister’s wedding. I don’t want her marrying that asshole, but with the money they can bring to the organization, the marriage is sealed. This life is not something I’d wish on anyone. That’s why I plan to leave once the nuptials are over. I’m flying to America where I can be normal. Or at least try to be.
“I need you to finish a job for me. Tonight.” That’s not a request; it’s an order. My father doesn’t ask permission. He also doesn’t allow anyone to refuse him. Especially his sons.
“I want to leave once it’s done. I’m taking Aurora with me,” I tell him, knowing he’ll have something to say since he doesn’t like my choice in women. However, he can’t dispute our relationship since she’s the daughter of his business partner. Also, she’s the first and only girl who can handle my dark needs.
“I think you’re making a mistake, but . . .” His words trail off as he places his hand on my shoulder, offering it a squeeze. “I’m always here for you. Family first and forever.” The utterance of our motto is enough to have guilt weighing heavily on me. The tattoo on my back that I got when I turned eighteen burns my skin now as realization hits that I’m about to walk out on the family I’m meant to stand beside.
“First and forever,” I respond, nodding as he offers me a smile and leaves me in the dressing room. The music that filters through the open door is my signal, so I make my way out to the back of the church, finding my sweet sister smiling at me. Her arm through our father’s, her long, flowing white gown trails behind her.
The march into the church is planned to the T. When the priest starts his sermon, I lose focus. Something in my peripheral causes me to turn. When I do, I notice the glint of black metal. Instinct has me diving for Cayleigh first. My body cocoons her as the shots are fired.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
I lose count how many thunderous bullets zip past me, and in the maelstrom, I can’t see my father. I can’t see Aurora. My heart hammers in my chest, threatening to break through. People are panicking. There’s chaos everywhere, and I see red splattered around me, on me.
Screaming echoes in the emptying church, but I can’t move. Protecting my sister is the only thing I can do. I don’t know how long I lie there holding a sobbing woman in my arms, but when the silence hangs heavy around us, I lift my head, turning my gaze to the door now swung wide.
Bodies. Blood. Death.
This is my life. It always will be. I need to leave tonight. No more jobs.
“Are you okay, Leigh?” I turn to my sister whose make-up is racing down her cheeks in black trails of emotion. She nods, but her lower lip trembles. “I need to see who’s hurt. Stay down,” I order. Pulling my revolver from my holster, I rise to find a massacre.
“Rick!” A shout comes from my left. My brother and father are there, safe. Caked in blood, but alive. When I meet my father’s gaze in question, he shakes his head.
I drag my gaze to the place I didn’t want to look, but I force myself to. Aurora is lying in a pool of crimson liquid. Her body lifeless. Her eyes closed forever. I drop to my knees as the anguish settles around me, dragging me into a dark abyss of sadness.
I can’t breathe. My hand has a grip on the gun. It’s the only thing keeping me grounded. A harsh cry rips from my chest, right from my very fucking soul. An anguished, pained sob as I stare at the woman I love lying dead on the ground.
I pull her into my arms. Her lips are parted slightly as if she was trying to say something. A bloom of hope unfurls itself like a flower when she stirs, her eyes fluttering.
“Tigress,” I murmur, hoping this is all just a bad dream.
“I’ll love you always.”
Her final words fall from her lips, and that’s when I know I’ve lost the only woman I’ll ever love. She falls limp in my arms. I don’t cry. My eyes are dry as I take her in, but the ache in my chest is unbearable. Irreparable.
Anger, vengeance, and guilt grips me in that moment.
And I vow on the altar in the church I was baptized in, I’ll find my revenge.
Slamming my hand on the counter top, I growl out down the line at my brother, “What the fuck did you call me for?”
“News, Rick. Calm yourself down, fecker,” he curses as his accent reminds me I’m no longer where I should be -- with my family. “It’s time you finished this, Brother. Moran had a man inside the church before we even arrived that day. We’ve got him here, but his son is in Chicago. He’s on business, unassuming. It’s time you got revenge. An eye for an eye, Rick.”
When we couldn’t find the asshole who killed Aurora, I walked out. I didn’t give up, but I couldn’t put myself through the agony of knowing I couldn’t avenge her murder. That led me to packing my shit and moving here. That’s when I found a life in the darkness. I found pleasure in as many women as I could. They all mean absolutely nothing to me because they’re not her.
I play.
I fuck.
And I close myself off to everything around me. It was only when I found Eva that I found myself caring. Not in
the way she wanted, but we both got what we needed from each other at the time.
I can’t love another woman after Aurora.
“I’ll make sure the asshole pays. Give me his details.”
“Listen to me, Rick, this man is worse than his father ever was. He’s young and stupid, but he has an army of guards with him. I—”
“I can handle myself, Callan,” I tell him. My voice rising in frustration. I’ve taken down men worse than that fucker Moran. If my brother thinks I’m not capable, I’ll show him I’m more grown up than he ever was. When I left, my brother, who’s only a year older than me, took over the family business of making sure men paid for their sins. But I know my father had more underhanded dealings than he let on. And I have a feeling the shooting was revenge for something my father did.
Everyone here in my new life knows me as Carrick Anderson, but none of them know my true name—Carrick Aedan O’Leary. Our family goes back centuries in Chicago, linked to the Irish mobsters, and that’s the reason I chose to come here.
With my father’s property development organization based in London, that’s where I spent my younger years, allowing me to easily hide my accent on jobs. Once someone hears the Belfast accent, they’re more likely to be wary because Northern Ireland is known for the dangers that lurk beneath the shiny veneer. And since I’ve been here, it’s easier to hide my ancestry. One reason was to move on, the other was to find my own way without the O’Leary name holding me back.
“I’m just warning you, arsehole.”
“I know,” I tell him. Watching the thick coffee drip into the cup, I envision making the asshole bleed. Soon I’ll be watching his blood drip from my fingers. “I’ve been waiting for this and have much more at stake than you have, Cal. Just send me the details, and I’ll see to it he’s dealt with.”
