by Tiya Rayne
I wait. Whatever he has to say I want to hear it. I’m hoping whatever it is, it will make this guilty feeling fade away. I never find out. Gerard comes around the corner.
“Welcome back. You have received quite a few packages.”
“What packages?” Me and Walker eye each other once again before following Gerard into the living room.
After checking the garment bags lying across the couch, I can verify they’re men’s clothing. Everything from a suit to jogging pants and jeans. There’s enough clothing to last Walker about three weeks. That doesn’t surprise me.
“Will you be able to fit those?” I ask Walker.
“Most likely,” he says without even going to check them.
“This also came for you.” Gerard hands me two small square boxes and I immediately know what’s inside them.
I turn to Walker with my voice pitched low. “Rings. She bought us wedding rings.”
The brightest smile I have seen yet spreads over his face. “Smart. We are supposed to be married, right?” Does he not see the insanity of this?
Without arguing my case, I open one of the boxes and gasp. The ring is simply magnificent. White gold with a princess cut diamond in the center.
A cascade of diamonds surrounds the band and are flanked on each side by red rubies. The wedding band is made like the engagement band with hidden rubies on the sides. It’s absolutely stunning and totally my style. I didn’t even realize a tear had escaped my eyes until I sniffle, and Walker wipes away the tear.
“Allow me,” he says, holding out his hand for the rings.
I place the box in his hand. For a moment, he stares down at the rings, rubbing a finger over the large princess cut diamond. If I had to guess, I would say it’s anywhere from two and a half to three carats. He slips both rings out of the box and lifts my left hand, then slides the perfect fit set on my ring finger. When I look back up at him, he’s grinning.
“I do,” he says and we both laugh.
I take his band out of the box. His ring is white gold as well, with a diamond channel inset and every third stone is a ruby. I slid the ring on his finger and admire the way it looks.
“Do you like it?”
He glances briefly at the ring and then back to me. “Do you like it?”
“I think it’s gorgeous.”
“Then, I love it.” He winks at me and I roll my eyes playfully.
“They’re both very lovely rings. The rubies are a fantastic add on,” Gerard says, glancing down at our fingers. He then hands me a black envelope.
“What’s this?” I ask as I slide the card out of the fancy envelope. On the front are the words, You’re Invited in a gold elegant font with a date two days away from now.
“That would be your invitation,” Gerard says, answering my question.
I flip the card over and the only thing there is a time along with the stamp of a capital R with a thorny crown.
“Midnight?” I say looking up at Walker. “It doesn’t say where it’s located.”
Gerard clears his throat. “Maybe I can be of assistance?”
I shrug and hand him the card. He looks it over and flips it around. “It bears the mark of the Royal Society.”
“And… what’s that?”
Gerard looks at me like I’m crazy. “Mrs., it is only one of the most prestigious and highly sought-after groups in the world.”
“Is this like the Illuminati or something?”
Gerard gives me the smile one might give a child asking about Santa Claus.
“No. The Illuminati was created as a means to enlighten the people and break them from tyranny and injustice. They were originally created to be a help, despite their recent label.
“The Royal club only helps themselves. It consists of the wealthiest, and in my opinion, by far the most dangerous people in the world. The only way to get into one of their events is to be invited and if you get the invite you will already know the location.”
Okay, first off, thanks to our butler Gerard for knowing his shit. Secondly, how the hell am I supposed to guess where the—
I rush to the small closet off the foyer where Walker and I placed the small black notepad. I grab it out, making sure to close the safe back and head back into the living room.
“Gerard, do you know where this address is?” I show him the third address in the book.
He takes it from my hand and looks down at it. “I know this area, but I don’t know this exact location. Basically, this is the meat-packing district. There’s tons of dining and clubs.”
“Clubs?” I repeat when I remember my sister planned everything.
“Yes, clubs,” Gerard replies. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s what this is.”
“Fuck,” I say as I remember the outfit I had no plans to wear.
Chapter 14
We Be Clubbin
Brooklyn
At 11:15, two nights later, Walker and I step out of the town car in front of the third address in the book. Gerard was right, it’s definitely a club. The line for the entrance wraps all the way around the building.
I tug at the short tight-ass dress Albany picked out for me. The heels on my feet aren’t as insanely high as some of the shoes I see on these other women, but they definitely aren’t the most comfortable either.
“Don’t go too far,” Walker tells Steven before joining me at my side. “Stay near me. No telling what we will face in here.”
“Okay, daddy.” My words were meant to be sarcastic, but from the heated glare Walker gives me, I don’t think he got that. He rolls his tongue over his bottom lip as he stares down at me.
Up until this point I’ve done well to keep Walker in that off limits box. Trust me, it has been hard. He sleeps shirtless and likes to walk around the suite with nothing but his boxers on.
A girl has been hard pressed not to stare and gawk at him. The things I have thought of doing to him alone would be illegal in some states. Other than a few instances he seems to be mostly unbothered when I enter a room with nothing but a T-shirt on.
This morning, I walked up to him in a towel and he didn’t even acknowledge it. Only asked was I done in the shower. Having him look at me like this, lets me know I’m not alone in this.
“Calm down,” I say with a playful eye roll even though my blood is rushing through my veins. “I was being sarcastic.”
A smile crosses his face as he grabs my hand and tugs me toward the front of the line. “For now, you were.”
I don’t have time to read into that comment. The moment we approach the bouncer at the door he barks out, “Back of the line.” The guy is bald with a seriously too tight shirt. He’s much bulkier than Walker.
“Hell no,” I reply defiantly. If he thinks I’m going to wait in that long-ass line, he’s tripping. He quirks an eyebrow at me. I wave the envelope in his face and his eyes widen.
“Sssorry,” he stutters the word as he picks up the tablet on his podium. “Name?”
“Brooklyn,” I state and then roll my eyes. “Brooklyn Walker.” It seems that’s the name my sister has me using lately.
He skims the page. “I don’t have a Brooklyn Walker,” he says, placing the tablet back on the podium.
“Try Brooklyn Creedmoor,” Walker says from beside me.
He doesn’t look too thrilled to have to double check but thankfully he does. “Okay,” he states. “I have a Creedmoor.”
“That’s me,” I say a little too excitedly.
He looks me over and then back to his tablet. “It’s your first time, so only one bodyguard is allowed to go in with you.”
“That’s him,” I say, pointing to Walker at my side. “He’s my bodyguard.”
“Fine,” the bouncer says as he nods to the other guy at the door. “Because it’s your first time, he’s not allowed a weapon.”
The other guy walks over to Walker and demands he put his hands out to his side.
“Hold up,” I argue. “Is everyone else going to have
weapons?” Do they expect us to go in there without anything to protect us? And what if everyone else has weapons but we don’t.
“It’s the rules,” the bouncer states.
I open my mouth to tell him what he can do with his rules, but Walker stops me. “It’s all right, Brooklyn.”
Walker holds his hands out at his side while the other bouncer waves a wand up and down his body. The wand beeps when it stops at the waistband of his suit pants. The bouncer pulls out the gun Walker placed there before we left the room. I’ve seen what Walker can do with and without a gun, I’m not too worried. Besides, the look on his face says I shouldn’t be.
But can we pause for a second to talk about this suit that Albany had delivered for Walker? I have always had a thing for a man in a nice suit and this one is fucking phenomenal. His black Tom Ford tailored suit fits him to the T.
She had to either have had him measured on the low or she knew his body that well. I don’t even care that the twisting in my belly started when he put on the suit. The crisp white shirt looks good against his tanned skin.
My jaw hit the floor when he walked out of the bathroom with his suit on and that shoulder length hair pulled back in a low ponytail. If I had on panties, those bitches would have been soaked. Walker looks good enough to eat.
“Here you go.” The bouncer hands me something that looks like a Fitbit. I fasten it on my wrist and it immediately lights up. “Okay, Ms. Creedmoor, you’re in.” He turns the tablet around to show me, but the only thing on the screen is my name and a number.
“Whose phone number is that?” I ask when he takes the tablet away from me.
The bouncer snorts. “Funny. That’s not a phone number. That’s the amount of money you have on deck for tonight.”
The Fuck! It’s official, I’m quitting my job today. I need the application for this Church business. There’s no way Albany has that type of money lying around. We were eating at fucking Applebee’s and she had money like this?
“And what happens to the money on that tablet if I don’t use it?”
The glare on the bouncer’s face lets me know he’s seriously over me. “It goes back in your account. Now move along. Your bracelet will vibrate when the auction starts.”
Auction? What auction? I don’t ask him this. Instead, I head into the loud club with its pounding music and crazy strobe lights. Bodies are pressed so tightly together you can barely walk.
Half dressed women squeeze through the dance floor with trays full of drinks as if they have some type of force field around them. Up above the dance floor is a glassed off section that makes me feel as if I’m a fish in an aquarium. Up the stairs, people sit on nice couches around tables. Men stand in front of the glass with their arms crossed, staring down at the rest of us.
I’m guessing that’s the VIP section. My thoughts are confirmed when a waitress with the same Fitbit style bracelet I have, walks upstairs to the glass doors and scans her wrist under a little machine. The doors open for her and she walks in before the door closes again.
I turn to Walker and tap his chest. He leans forward, I’m assuming to hear me better.
“I think I see where we’re supposed to go.” I point to the stairs and the VIP section.
“Lead the way,” he says. I love that Walker doesn’t second-guess me. He never asks me to show him or prove something to me. He trusts me. I like how that feels.
I reach behind me for his hand an action that is so familiar to me I don’t even realize I’m doing it until he places his hand in mine. I lead him to the stairs I saw the waitress go up.
I still haven’t figured out Walker’s superpower yet. He says the Church takes unusual children. I’m leaning more toward the good looks thing. I’ve been following this man around for four days, not once has it dawned on me to be scared.
That Venus flytrap theory is making sense. With the others I’ve met so far it’s been a little easier to pinpoint their talents. I’m assuming Psycho from the alley’s quirk is that he’s psycho.
It’s pretty clever once you think about it. No one wants to go head to head with a damn psychopath. And Lucien, I’m assuming is good at computers. The guy took down an entire fucking block with a flash drive.
Seth, well, Seth looks like he can seriously fuck shit up. Priest is an asshole, which is a talent all in itself. However, I’m still trying to get what Walker brings to the table. He can definitely fight, and he’s kick ass with a gun, but even Psycho from the Alley could fight. And I don’t think it’s Walker’s OCD with street signs.
I glance back over my shoulder at him as we climb the stairs. His ever-vigilant gaze is fixed ahead of me. When we get to the top, I let his hand go as I scan my bracelet under the machine.
It beeps and turns green. The door slides open and I walk in with Walker on my tail. Immediately, the atmosphere changes. The noise from downstairs is completely absent up here.
The air is crisper even with all the cigar smoke. Only the low hum of classical music plays through the room. The moment we walk in all voices seem to stop.
People turn to look at me and stare as if they’re sizing me up. I pull up short, not sure how to take all the hostile glances. Walker bumps into my back.
“They look like they want to kill me,” I whisper-shout over my shoulder.
“Keep moving. You have to make them believe you belong,” he replies in my ear from behind.
A canvas pops in my head and immediately my paintbrush makes long and languid strokes across the white. The picture is of Albany again, but this time she’s standing outside of our foster home as we prepare to go to school. I’d been expelled from our old school and I was being bused to a rougher school across town.
Her face was tight with anger and there was a fire in her brown eyes. I remember the warning she whispered in my ear.
With that conversation in my mind, the canvas dissolves and I’m back at the club. I hold my head high, and walk to the booth I spotted without making eye contact with anyone else.
I make it to my booth and take a seat sliding over to make room for Walker. He leans down on the table, his palms flat. “You all right?” he says without taking a seat.
“I’m good.” I shake my head with a smile. “I had to remember I’m a monster too.”
He tilts his head. “A what?”
I smile. “Something Albany told me once.” That canvas pops up again. I explain to Walker about being expelled and going to the rougher school. I then tell him what Albany whispered in my ear. “She reminded me that I had nothing to fear because I’d dealt with monsters. And that I only needed to be a monster too.”
His smile broadens and he nods his head at me before pushing up from the table to stand in front of it, looking out at the tables around me,
“What are you doing? Sit down.”
“Tonight, I’m to play your bodyguard. Look around you, bodyguards don’t sit with their clients.”
I stop and actually take a look. I meet a few curious eyes, mostly men. They look with different levels of interest from who is this random chick, to I want her in my bed tonight.
I ignore them and continue to take in the room. He’s right. All the bodyguards are standing at attention and not sitting with their charges.
“This is going to be a boring night. Who am I going to talk to?” I admit with a pout.
He looks over his shoulder with a brief smile before turning back toward the crowd.
“I’m right here. I can still talk to you.”
For the last few days, I’ve talked to Walker about everything. You would think I’d be tired of him by now. Instead of being annoyed, I smile at the idea of spending even more time talking to him.
“Do you know what I’ve realized?” I say, but don’t give him time to reply. “I do most of the talking in this relationship. You listen and reply.”
He releases a low laugh. “You like to talk, I don’t.”
“Bullshit.”
He glances over his shoulder to me
with a smile. “Fine, I admit I like listening to the sound of your voice.” I would have called bullshit on that again, but his voice lacked that hint of humor when he’s telling a joke.
I blush, despite how hard I try not to.
“Well, tonight is your night. You’re going to do the talking.”
“Okay, what do you want me to talk about?”
I think for a moment. “How old are you?” Even though Albany told me a lot about him, she never mentioned his age.
“Thirty-three.”
Seriously? I thought he was younger. Closer to my age maybe. I would have never thought he was five years older than me.
“Is my age a problem for you now that we’re married?” He smirks as he glances briefly over his shoulder and shows off his ring finger.
I roll my eyes at his teasing. “No. I’ve dated men older than me.” Walker’s head slowly turns to me and the cunning grin on his face alerts me to what I just said.
“I was saying…” I start to backtrack. “Not that you and I are dating. I was only saying.” He’s still looking at me with that smirk. “Oh, shut-up, Walker. You know what I meant.”
He laughs before turning his attention back toward the room. I place my elbow on the table and my chin in my hand.
“Did my sister ever mention me?” My voice is completely sober and void of all laughter from earlier.
He turns over his shoulder and glances at me before turning back. “Only once,” he says and for a moment that is all I think he will say on the matter. However, he continues on. “Red was very good at her job.”
I snort. “Is that your way of saying my sister was the shit in bed?”
He laughs. “I’ve told you; our relationship was complicated.”
“Saying it’s complicated isn’t the same thing as saying you didn’t fuck her.”
“Telling you anything other than what you want to hear is a waste of time. You want to believe that your sister and I had a sexual relationship. Despite all that I’ve told you and all that you know about her. So, I’m not going to correct you.”