by Logan Chance
“Hey, Mom,” I greet her, closing the distance.
She smiles, pulling me in for a hug. “I brought you a surprise.”
Expecting her to whip out my favorite pear preserves she's become obsessed with making, I glance over in confusion when she nods her head toward my front door. And that’s when I see Xavier, in a grey tailored suit, lifting his devilishly gorgeous lips into a smile. The swarm of eagles take flight.
“I'll call you later,” mom says, slipping into her car.
My heart beats as wild as the horses that sometimes roam the beach as I approach him.
“Hey, Rhi,” he says. Husky. Deep. Sexy. It's been way too long since I heard his voice.
“I think you have me mistaken for someone else,” I tease, joining him on the porch. “It’s Bri now.”
“Oh, that’s right. Can I come inside?” he asks.
“I don’t know? You armed?” I smile up at him and he cracks a wide grin. A real one. No longer tainted with secrets.
“I am packing a big weapon in my pants, but I’ll keep it contained.”
I open the door. “Come on in.”
“Nice place.” He steps around, glancing at the pictures hanging that I drew myself.
Obviously, I have to get the elephant out of the room. It doesn't fit in here with my sunny furniture. “You shot me.”
“Rhi…”
“No, you shot me and you didn’t think you should have told me you were going to do that?” I ask, more happy he’s here, but a tad agitated about him not telling me his plan.
“I couldn’t tell you.”
“Why?” I give him my best death stare, and hope it’s working.
He rakes his bottom teeth across his lower lip. “I like your hair like this.” He lifts his hand, ruffling the edges of my short hair.
I swat him away. “You’re not answering me. Like always.”
“Well, I didn’t technically,” he draws out the word, “shoot you.”
“Same difference.”
He steps closer. “I know I’m about ten years and six months too late, but would you like to go to prom with me?”
My brow furrows. “What?”
“Prom?”
“Yes, I know what prom is, but…”
“Would you want to go,” he lowers his head, “with me?”
“Where? How?” I laugh a little. “When?"
He sticks his head out the door, and a few minutes later Dean strolls into the house with a garment and shopping bags.
“Get ready, I’ll be waiting,” Xavier breathes. He’s so beautiful, it sends an ache to my chest just staring at him.
An hour later, I’m dressed in a vibrant red cocktail dress and slipping into the back seat with Xavier.
Dean pulls away, racing toward the lights of downtown.
Xavier grabs my hand, and the eagles take flight inside me. This is the best feeling in the world, holding my best friend’s hand. And he is my friend. He always will be. We forged that connection long ago, under the stars, out in front of the sun, and beneath the clouds every day.
So, when we pull up to a hotel and enter into the grand ballroom, I smile, still holding my best friend’s hand.
There’s no one here, just us and the music that sweeps in through the sound system.
He pulls me close, wrapping a hand around my waist. “Dance with me.”
And we sway to the music, both of us wishing this was our reality many years ago. A life we were robbed of by my father.
I know I want this man by my side for the rest of my life, and if we can only have these stolen moments together every now and then, well, that’ll be perfect too.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers in my ear.
“I miss you all the time.”
“I’m always here for you, Rhi,” he says, using my real first name.
He leans down, brushing his lips with mine, and I let myself succumb to his kiss. It’s longing and passion all rolled into one. And I want to tell him all the things. I want to thank him for all the things as well.
I tug at the back of his neck, thanking—loving—him with my body.
He’s my Xavier. He always was and will always be. Even if we don’t end up together in a traditional happily ever after fashion, I’m good with it.
My eyes mist over at the thought.
The off visits every few months. The sneaking around. The never being able to be his wife. And even though I would take it over nothing, my heart still burns for a better future.
“Why so sad, sweetheart?” He lifts my chin with his finger.
“I just want to be with you so bad.” And then I take the leap. “I love you.”
His eyes bore into mine. “I love you so much more.” And then he kisses me again, and I forget everything.
We dance the night away, never once letting the other go. And I don’t even notice the time when Xavier leans over telling me it’s time to go.
I don’t want this night to end. I pray and hope it won’t. He caresses the turtle dove necklace against my skin, and I smile at him.
“So, Miss Stoneworthy, should we head back to your place?”
I park a hand on my hip. “That reminds me, nice name, Mr. Stone.”
He laughs and places a finger over his lips. “Shh, name’s Mr. Doves, Jack Doves. Nice to meet you.”
My heart didn’t hear him right as it skips a beat. “What do you mean?”
But he doesn’t answer, and just keeps talking, “And if you don’t like your last name, then we should remedy that soon with a wedding. I think Brianna Doves has a nice ring to it.”
I know I’m not a squee’ing type of girl, but some sort of excited sound erupts from my lips as I fling my arms around Xavier.
Best life ever.
35
Xavier (Jack)
So, you’re probably wondering how I was able to take down the whole DeLaurio crew so easily. Or how I knew without a shadow of a doubt he had killed my mother. Or why.
Money.
Money makes the world go around. It really does. And I knew exactly how to put every penny my mother stashed away for a rainy day to good use.
There was no way I believed for a second, I was related to DeLaurio—ok, maybe a small second. Or minute.
It ruined me when he pulled me aside at my mother’s funeral. I knew in that moment, I would fight the rest of my life to make sure this fucker got everything he deserved.
Shannon DeLaurio was an unexpected solider in my war against her husband. She contacted me not long after my mother died, telling me a very different tale.
It was a late Sunday night when she found me, working at some small security systems dump.
Her red hair, same as her daughter’s, shone under the fluorescent lights as she stalked my way. At a little diner, she told me everything.
“Xavier, you need to know the truth.” She kept glancing over her shoulder as if she feared her husband might appear out of nowhere.
And then she told me things I couldn't make up.
“When I met Al, I thought I loved him, but he’s not an easy man to love.” She didn’t need to tell me that.
She continued, “Your mother and I were best friends, your father and Al were business partners. Life was great, until it wasn’t.”
She told me how she fell in love with my father, Marshall, and how it drove Al insane with jealousy. How he wanted to ruin Marshall’s life, as well as Shannon’s.
Al DeLaurio felt his power was eternal—something he no longer believes, thanks to me.
She explained how he framed Marshall for some petty crime and had him sent off to prison in Detroit.
“Here’s all your father’s info,” she said, handing over some papers with a picture of my father.
It was the first time I had ever seen him.
I don't blame my mother for keeping the truth from me about my father; she was ashamed, and not sure what to think since she was being told lies by Mr. DeLaurio.
“I feel like everything’s my fault for loving Marshall, but I was young and stupid. I was in a bad marriage,” Shannon explained, asking for forgiveness with her eyes.
“Did he love you too?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. He was always faithful to your mother.”
I almost felt sorry for Mrs. DeLaurio; her pain was palpable.
“Al wanted to punish me and your father. He hired Hannah, and then told your father that you were his son.”
“Why?” I asked.
She said what I already knew. “Because he’s the devil incarnate. He really can’t stand to see anyone happy.”
“Yeah.”
“The more he saw me pull away, the more he wanted to ruin Marshall.” She stirred her cup of coffee, lost in memories. “Now, this was years later, after you and Rhiannon were both born, I no longer loved your father, but Al didn’t care.”
“Why did he kill her?” I asked, almost choking on the words.
“Because she found out, everything.” She took a deep breath. “And she was going to expose him.”
I ran a hand through my hair to keep from punching something. Anger, and hopelessness raced through me.
“Anything you need, please let me know,” Shannon said before she left that night.
And, that’s when the beginnings of a plan fell into place.
Al DeLaurio’s jealousy had driven him mad. And I couldn’t let him get away with ruining our lives.
So, I built my empire up slowly, and maybe sometimes I didn’t always have the best judgement with business dealings, but I was always one-hundred percent fucking loyal. Loyal to giving Rhiannon the life I knew she deserved. And punishing that dick of a father of hers forever.
There’s nothing more powerful than a man in love. And I have been in love with Rhiannon since forever. And I’ll be in love with her for just as long.
So, paying people to infiltrate the DeLaurio mob was my first act. Next, I cut a deal with the Feds as soon as I had a leg to stand on. Then, the plan was set and put into motion. While DeLaurio was so busy coming after me for having his daughter, I was busy greasing the wheels on an already well-oiled plan.
Keeping Rhiannon in my grasp long enough to do so was the hard part. That girl is a fighter. With a light inside her that will never go out. Her father tried to dim it, Ian almost did, but I’m here now to fuel it and let it shine every day until it lights the fucking sky on fire.
It wasn’t easy. Took many years to get back to her, and to get to where I could take care of my princess the way I wanted to. But I'm here now, in her home, in her bedroom, on her bed about to show her all the ways I love her.
“You almost ruined everything,” I whisper. My hand travels up her dress, to her silky thighs, and I trace over the lace of her soaked panties.
“No, I didn’t ruin anything.” She smiles, her hand tracing over my face.
“Well, you did ruin one thing,” I breathe out.
“What did I ruin?”
“Me.”
She leans over, our lips meeting, and I open myself to her.
I pull her to straddle my lap, and with both hands on her hip, I grind her down onto my heavy cock. “Feel that? This is how much you ruin me.”
“Xavier,” she moans as her body continues to grind against my hardness.
I need this. I need her.
“You’ve ruined me in the best possible way.”
She drops her forehead to mine and trembles. “You ruined me the moment I met you Xavier Stone. When you smiled at me under the chestnut tree, I knew you belonged to me.”
My hands fly under her dress, ripping the lace of her panties to shreds, tossing it across the room.
Her eyes widen at my possessiveness, and it fuels me on.
“Let me show you who you belong to,” I groan out.
“Only you.”
For the rest of the night, I do just that. I show her we belong together. I make love to her over and over.
And when our bodies have calmed, I lean over and brush a stray strand of auburn hair from her face. “I promise you I’ll keep you safe.”
“I trust you,” she says her eyes shining with love.
“I have one more secret,” I say to her.
“Hmm,” she hums.
“We can’t stay here.” I hope she goes for it. I hope she says yes.
“I figured.”
“Pick a country.”
Her eyes grow larger. “Are you serious?”
I smile. “Yes.”
Her smile widens. “Ireland?”
I kiss her cheek. “How did I know you were going to pick that?” I kiss her lips. “I’ve already got your castle ready, princess.”
36
Rhiannon
The plush green rolling hills of Ireland make my heart swell every morning when I step outside with my morning coffee. I want to yell ‘Top of the mornin’ to ye’ every single time. And maybe I have a time or two.
When Xavier says he had a castle ready for me, well, he wasn’t kidding. This place is like right out of a Celtic romance novel from the late 1500’s.
Of course, it has all the modern upgrades and amenities.
I thought I would miss my life in America, but the longer I fill my life with the happiness Xavier gives me, the more I realize I don’t miss a thing.
Sometimes I do miss my mother, but she comes to visit, and I just feel very... lucky. Luck of the Irish.
Someone who doesn't have luck is my father. Once they could seize his records for evidence, more stuff popped up. He was as crooked as a zig zag line. Not just him though. Many politicians, Ian included, are up for indictments as well.
It’s like a blood fest in the US government, each backstabbing the other to come out on top. But, you know who’s not coming out anywhere near the top? My father. Even with his team of top lawyers, and his men doing some dirty work, there’s no way my father will get out of not serving his life in prison.
It’s mainly more of a fight to see if he’ll be put to death.
My biggest worry is Xavier.
He still has to go back to testify.
I try to push those thoughts away as I stare at the scenery once more. It’s breathtaking.
I glance over my shoulder to our bedroom, where Xavier was sleeping moments ago, and watch as he brings his sexy, naked body closer to mine.
“What are you doing out here? Come back to bed.” He wraps his arms tight around me, and I lean my head back along his chest.
Ok, there’s only one thing that’s more breathtaking than this view...him.
“I made you something,” I say, reaching on the table beside me to grab the card I made him early this morning. “Here.”
He takes the card with a prince in front of the castle we live in.
“You’re my knight in shining armor, and thank you for rescuing your princess,” he reads inside the card. And then he kisses me, and we both will live happily ever after…
Epilogue
Xavier
Sitting in the courtroom, staring into the black, vacant eyes of the man who killed my mother is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Harder than trying to pretend I didn’t have feelings for Rhiannon.
We wait for the jury to enter the room and I fist my hands together.
“Stay calm. This asshole is getting what he deserves,” Dean leans over to whisper in my ear.
I nod, straighten my tie, and say, “I just want this over with.”
When I left Ireland a few months ago, Rhiannon was worried about everything. My safety. The trial.
And when I kissed her before walking away, I reassured her no one would be stupid enough to fuck with me. And they won't.
I’m the nightmare DeLaurio dreams every night when he goes to sleep in his toilet-clogged four-walled cell.
This is why I didn’t kill him. I want him to live in his sins like sitting in a bath filled with dirty water soaking his body day in and day out. He needs to live in fear that I control
his life, I control his outcome, and I control his reality. I’m his future. A bleak one filled with hatred, corruption, and always looking over his fucking shoulder. Don’t drop the soap motherfucker. Life in prison when I’ve paid the guards, and his cellblock mates. Yeah, you heard me, our eyes meet from across the courtroom, I own you. Welcome to rock bottom.
Don’t fuck with me.
The media has been a complete three-ring circus. Shoving their microphones in my face, asking how I was involved, how I was able to gain access to incriminating documents, and how I was able to bring down one of the biggest ‘mobs’ of all time.
I didn’t say a word, just smiled with the knowledge staying neatly tucked away until I testified.
DeLaurio’s eyes never leave mine, and I give him a chin nod.
“All rise,” the bailiff begins, and I crack a cocky smirk as I stand.
As everyone takes their seat, the judge clears his throat as he’s handed the verdict. He opens it, and no one breathes, not even me.
Guilty, no chance for parole. Death sentence.
Dean clasps a hand on my shoulder. “Got what he deserved.”
Al’s eyes meet mine one last time before he’s carted away. I glance away with a small laugh. I don’t even want to waste another second of my life on him.
I visit her grave before I leave town, bringing her flowers and a promise to remember that life is not paved out for us, and I’m going to make the most of my time here.
Then, one last stop before I make my way back to Ireland.
The sun blinds me as I pull into the Detroit prison on the East side of town. I sit, my car idling as I wait.
A man with hair the same color as mine, and eyes just as blue, walks toward my car and I smile.
“Dad,” I say as he opens the car door.
“You kicked ass and took no prisoners.” He slides into the soft leather of the passenger seat.
I laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
He faces me. “I’m proud of you, son.”