Penzance had dated a friend of Harlow’s sister. Through that relationship, Penzance had learned quite a bit about the Sweetings, including Harlow. Without her telling him, he’d also known that she was once engaged to the guy who impregnated Lena. The wedding was being planned as they spoke. Not that Harlow could be a part of it. She had missed all of the planning while stuck at Ophelia’s.
Her new life involved some strict rules. Phones and the internet were off-limits. Harlow guessed Ophelia feared her calling Ryske, or reinforcements. Even if she had to order food or clothes for Ophelia, she wasn’t allowed to place the order on her own. She had to write it down and give it to Brash, who enjoyed having power over her life almost as much as Ophelia did.
“It was all planned,” she said. “Ryske told me to go back to Rupert and I was going.”
“Why?” Penzance asked, genuine incredulous curiosity in his voice. “I remember Lena talking about how you and Marlowe weren’t happy. You left the guy because you didn’t love him. Why go back?”
Breathing in, she thought about that time, which felt like so long ago. “Because it was him who helped me when I thought I’d lost Ryske,” she said. “Ophelia and I came up with the plan to go in half each on Pothos. It was part of our grander scheme to avenge Ryske, who’d been shot by Animal on Jarvis Hagan’s order.”
She almost laughed. Back then, rage and resolve coursed through her in equal measure. In retrospect, it seemed incredible. Though, if she found herself in the same position again, she’d probably act in the same way.
“How did Marlowe help you?”
“He gave me the money,” she said. “A half a million dollars, no questions asked.”
“And the bargain was you go back to him?”
Sitting up straight, she smoothed her hands down her skirt. “Yep,” she said. “He was good about it and didn’t pressure me. The point was to do what I had to do, and then go back to the life he’d wanted us to have.” Realizing her mouth was working without the backup of her brain, Harlow turned quickly to grab his hand. “Lena doesn’t know. No one knows, except Ryske and the guys. I—”
“Your secret’s safe,” Penzance said, touching the end of her chin. “Don’t think I’ll be talking to Emma again any time soon anyway.”
When he put his arm around her and pulled her against his side, Harlow let him take her, getting the sense that he needed some comfort of his own. “Do you ever miss her?”
“Em?” he asked. “No more than I ever miss any of them. We weren’t… you know.”
He’d tell her it wasn’t real. Maybe it wasn’t. Yet, it seemed there was something more to how the relationship ended than he was letting on.
“Relationships suck, don’t they?” she asked.
“Not yours. Ryske’s just being a guy. He wants to be between you and trouble. While you’re here, he can’t be… He does love you.”
Harlow didn’t doubt that, but that didn’t mean his words couldn’t hurt or that he wouldn’t mean them. At the same time Ryske told her to go back to Rupert, he’d been in love with her. He hadn’t told her then, but he’d since told her. Loving her hadn’t stopped him faking his death.
Breaking her heart was a side-effect; collateral damage to making a unilateral decision about what was best for her. Penzance couldn’t know any of that, but he was right about one thing, Ryske was being a guy… a jerk of a guy.
Harlow knew her man. She didn’t know how Penzance had reached his conclusion. “How do you know that?” she asked.
“Because I’ve known Ryske a long time.”
“You’ve known all of them for a long time.” Easing their bodies apart, he peeked down at her. “Yes, Ryske and I do talk… I know you’re from the neighborhood.”
He nestled her to his side again. “Some of the things he told you just amaze me,” he said. “Ryske doesn’t trust anyone.”
“He trusts his crew.”
“All of them are suspicious assholes.”
“That makes you one too,” she said. “You ran with them. Learned with them… That stands for something… Means more than even someone like me.”
“What does that mean?”
She sighed. “Sure, Ryske loves me. But his ability to trust me has always been in question.”
“If you fucked around on him once—”
“I’ve never fucked around on him,” she said, but released some of her bluster and sagged. “If I had, maybe I’d be able to understand why he feels it’s so necessary to hide things from me. Every time I think I’ve gotten through to him, I find out something new… I don’t know if we’ll be able to hold up to it again.”
“I guess he feels the same way, which might be why he’s telling you about his plan here,” Penzance said. “Honey, I can’t tell you what’s going to happen with your relationship or any of this shit. An old friend of mine used to say something that’s helped me out plenty of times. Get what you like and like what you’ve got. Means—”
“I know what it means,” she said and smiled. “It means we’re in control of our own actions and that we have to make lemonade no matter what fruit we’re given…”
“Dover trusts you too, huh?” Penzance said. “Floyd used to say it all the time when one of us was bitching about something. Sometimes life gives us shit we don’t want. But if we’ve got it, we might as well get used to it and find a way to make the best of it, because it’s not going anywhere.”
Opening her mouth, she pulled in a breath. “You’re right. Dover’s right. Floyd’s right…” She sat up again and ran her fingers through her hair. Taking some time to compose herself, Harlow got her head back in the right mindset to face the day. “Why can’t someone tell Ryske that?”
His smile became a grin as he stood up and grabbed her hands to haul her onto her feet. “Honey, no one changes that much. No one ever told Ryske anything he didn’t want to hear.”
That was the truth. Harlow could tell him one thing and he’d hear the opposite. Like when she’d told him she wouldn’t sleep with him or that they were breaking up. Ryske wasn’t fazed, he just contradicted her and let it bounce off.
There was little comfort in that truth. If he was out fighting every night, he wasn’t letting it bounce off this time. His rage was something he was always in control of. He made a point of that. His father had been violent and he didn’t want to follow that example.
This was a difficult time. Knowing she was doing it for her crew helped to push her through it. But Ryske felt helpless. Harlow could identify with that feeling. She’d feared being in his position when they thought Ophelia was going to claim him at the card game.
Time dragged while she was under Ophelia’s command, but she had plenty to keep her busy. In contrast, Ryske was at home. Even the refurbishments at Floyd’s wouldn’t distract him from knowing she was out in the world and possibly in peril.
Harlow needed him to trust her. She was going to do this whether she had his support or not. But at the end of it, she didn’t know what would remain of the life she’d left behind.
4
Living with Brash was a nightmare.
Ophelia would never lower herself to live with her minions. Instead, she leased the apartment directly below her own for her employees. Such proximity meant they could be on hand for anything she needed any minute of the day.
As if just living with the goons wasn’t bad enough, Harlow had to put up with Brash’s idiot friends too. Most of them also worked for Ophelia; they just lived elsewhere. They liked to come by unannounced on a regular basis to disrupt any modicum of peace she managed to carve out.
That night was no different. Brash and his friends were in the living room, playing cards. Well, that was the cover. As far as she could tell, they were spending more time shouting at the sports game on TV and jeering each other than they were at the table she’d set up for them at Brash’s command.
Taking orders from Brash was a kick in the teeth. Ophelia had been clear about the hierarchy and Brash
was above her, so she had no choice except to obey. That didn’t prevent Harlow from resenting him. Keeping up with chores around the apartment was fine. It wasn’t like any of the guys were going to bother. If it was cook and clean or sit around playing social with Brash, she’d take chores any day.
She’d just put a new bowl of potato chips on the card table when someone touched her ass. Touching, she didn’t tolerate that. They could leer at her chest and comment on her ass. Neither got a reaction out of her. Looking and speaking, she let go. It gave her a sense of power to ignore and irritate them by being impervious.
Hands making contact with her was a different ballgame. For one thing, she knew how fast these situations could escalate. Especially when the men were in a group goading each other on.
Slapping the hand away, she straightened the bowl of chips and then walked away to collect some of the mess strewn around the room. There were peanut shells and empty beer bottles all over the place. It was insane that they were happy to live like pigs in this upscale apartment.
“Ah, look at her playing shy,” one of the guys said. He could be the one who’d touched her, she didn’t know or care. Harlow found it best to just roll her eyes off them, or to ignore them completely. “Thought you said she was a horny bitch, Brash.”
Brash snickered. “Maybe you don’t got the touch. Minute you guys walk out of here, she’ll be all over me.”
He wished. Harlow had noticed the way he leered at her. Almost every time they were together, he made some kind of sexual comment. She had no intention of giving him any kind of satisfaction. If it made him feel like more of a man to boast to his ridiculous buddies that he was having sex with a woman who despised him, she wasn’t going to waste the energy protesting. Anyone who mattered to her would know in a heartbeat that it was a lie.
Penzance didn’t hang around with Brash by choice. Their only link was their employer. Harlow had seen them being civil, friendly even. But Penzance always made an excuse when it came to socializing with the asshole and Harlow didn’t blame him.
Collecting the trash and dishes, she sighed, signaling, in her own way, that she thought he was pathetic. Without saying a word, she took everything into the kitchen. Separating the trash from what needed to be washed, she didn’t look up when the door opened. Making the assumption that someone was coming in for more beer, she kept her head down.
It would be a cold day in hell before Brash would get his own drink. He’d rather holler at her, especially when his buddies were around. But some of the other guys didn’t mind snooping in the kitchen.
She leaned over the counter, past the knife block, to reach the discarded food wrappers, intending to clean up.
Someone came up behind her. Pushing his hips into her ass, whoever he was, he liked what he saw. Her lip curled in disgust when he began to grind his proud erection against her.
“What is it you’d do for him… huh?”
Brash’s voice was low, but it wasn’t seductive. At least, if that’s what he was going for, he missed the mark. Someone as evil as him couldn’t conceal their true nature, not even in an intimate moment.
“You’ll never know,” she said.
With her hands on the counter, and her toes barely touching the floor, she wasn’t in a great position to fight.
“I heard you like it rough,” Brash said, still rubbing himself against her. He snaked both hands around, under her arms to grope her breasts. “Danger turns you on.”
She tipped her chin toward her shoulder, but was glad she couldn’t quite see him. “I can tell it gets you hot,” she said. “If you weren’t into danger, you wouldn’t have your hands on me right now.”
He snickered. “You think I’m afraid of him? That fucker is far, far away. He can’t save you now.”
It sort of amused her that everyone assumed she couldn’t take care of herself. She’d completed self-defense classes before moving to the city, and had trained with Costello who taught more than the right way to fight. He taught her to fight dirty as well.
Even without those lessons, it was a mistake to underestimate her sheer will. Despising the man who had the audacity to put his hands on her increased her determination. She would rather die fighting than give in to the man who’d put a blade in her love. Though, part of her should be grateful for that wound. If Brash hadn’t stabbed Ryske, she may never have met her crew. Still, she wasn’t going to express her gratitude in any sexual way.
“I’m not afraid of you, Brash,” she said, ignoring his hands kneading her chest and the line of his dick on her ass. It pulsed as he picked up his pace and pushed harder. “But you are afraid of him.”
Harlow wouldn’t go down without a fight and wasn’t going to miss a chance to taunt the man who took such pleasure in taunting her.
He spat out disgust in a burst of laughter. “I don’t fucking think so.”
“Really?” she asked, pushing her head further around. “If you’re not afraid of him, why wouldn’t you tell him to his face that you’re fucking me? You’re proud to boast about it in front of your Neanderthal friends. Why don’t you try this shit in front of him?”
“I took him down once, I’ll do it again,” he said. “That knife went in real sweet last time. I won’t forget to twist it next time.”
“That’s a good tip,” she said. “Thanks for that.”
Grabbing a knife from the block, she thrust back with all her strength. Using the width of her hips to force him back, she twisted to flip around and brought the knife up in an arc, slashing Brash across his cheek.
He screamed out. “You fucking bitch!”
He touched the blood on his cheekbone. When he saw it, he was quick to respond by smacking her across the face, sending her tumbling to the side. Harlow didn’t go down. Although her face felt like it was ready to explode, she was grateful to be free of the island he’d pinned her against. He was still between her and the door. Retreating around the island, keeping it between them was an option. Speed and agility were on her side, and she didn’t doubt her stamina. The only thing he had on her was strength, and Costello had taught her a few tricks for using that to her advantage.
Her confidence wavered when the kitchen door opened and Animal burst in. Animal was bigger and more insane than Brash. She’d reasoned with him once and had a feeling that was the only pass she’d get from him.
“What the hell?” Animal said, absorbing the scene and registering the thin slice of blood trickling down Brash’s cheek. “She fucking did that?”
Animal didn’t ask why or even hesitate, he began to rush toward her. She turned the knife, praying that she’d have the strength to use it on him before he used it on her.
“Stop,” Brash said. His order worked on Animal, which shocked her. Altruism was what motivated the maniac. That became obvious when he turned his sneer on her. “You’re gonna be mine, little girl.”
“Never,” she spat.
He laughed again. Oh, how she’d come to despise that sound. “You don’t even get it. You think Ophelia wants you running her errands and pressing her clothes forever? She doesn’t give a damn about you. This is all about him.”
Harlow wished her adrenaline would subside enough to let her laugh in his face. The idiot was insane if he thought she didn’t know that. Though, it was her mission to gather intelligence, so it made more sense to act surprised. Questioning him could lead to more information.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked.
“She wants to break him. Soon as she’s got him to heel, you’re useless…” He smiled and touched the blood on his cheek while sauntering past Animal who was still ready to pounce. “And when you’re useless to her, you’re mine… You’ll be mine for as long as I want, in any way I want…”
He smudged his blood against her lip. Harlow was quick to swipe it off with the back of her hand, leaping away as she did.
“You can fucking try,” she snarled. “I’d put a bullet in my head before I’d ever give you th
e pleasure of touching me.”
Whatever his intention, rape, torture, or murder, she wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. Not if she had a choice, and as far as she was concerned, there was always a choice. As long as she had the ability to take her own life, there was a choice.
Grabbing her arm, Brash thrust her against the fridge. “You’re good at that, aren’t you?” he hissed. “Putting bullets in people.”
Sometimes it was easy to forget that Brash wasn’t Ophelia’s minion at all. At least, he hadn’t started out that way. Ophelia had recruited Brash and Animal to do her dirty work after killing her brother, Jarvis Hagan, their original boss.
Brash and Animal were loyal to Jarvis Hagan and believed they were continuing their work for him by protecting Ophelia. They were ignorant to the fact that Ophelia had pulled the trigger and killed the man they cared for.
Harlow had done time in jail for the crime until the evidence in her case was lost. After that, the charges against her had been dropped. But that wasn’t enough for Brash. It wasn’t enough for most people.
Being accused of killing a man wasn’t an easy mistake to come back from. Harlow hadn’t pulled the trigger, but she’d been present when Hagan died. She hadn’t gone to the authorities with what she knew either. Both to protect the Pothos operation and her crew who could be implicated in other crimes.
“You’re some kind of fool,” she said in the back of her throat through her gritted teeth and thrust forward to push him away.
He wasn’t holding her tight; he didn’t intend to keep her in place. Brash just wanted to throw his weight around in an attempt to intimidate her. That wasn’t an easy feat these days.
“You’ll think that right up until the moment I pour Pothos down your throat and force you to come around my cock, again and again, over and over.”
Go Full Circle (A Go Novel Book 5) Page 3