Forgotten & Found: A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Boxset

by Serena Akeroyd

  My jaw tensed. “We’re going to need gear. A lot of it.”

  “Get me a list and I’ll get you what you need.”

  That was from Rex.

  “You got this?”

  Steel’s question had me tipping my chin up in defiance. I stared at him, at that beautiful goddamn face, that gorgeous hair, lips I longed to kiss, eyes I wanted to stare into until the day I died, and instead of telling him I loved him, instead of telling him I missed him, I snarled, “When haven’t I been good at cleaning up the MC’s messes?”

  His mouth tightened but he let me go, and that was exactly what I did and didn’t want.

  Fuck.

  Four

  Lily

  With a bored yawn, I leaned back into my seat, even going so far as to tip my head against the side of the armchair as I overlooked the situation.

  Maybe it was cold of me not to give a fuck, but as Paul and Alix were raked over the coals by my father for getting drunk on the job, I fought hard not to smirk.

  “We’re only fortunate that my daughter is a good girl and that your dereliction of duty caused no harm in the long run.” Daddy dearest snarled, “But there’s no way I can allow you to continue with your position—”

  I’d known that was coming, and even though I didn’t have much pull with my father who, whether I was a good girl or not, usually ignored me, I muttered, “As you said, Father, I know my place. There was no damage done and it was a one-time situation. We’re all reeling from Luke’s death. His loss has hit the entire household hard.”

  My father froze at that, twisting around to pin me in place with his glare. He was a handsome man, as had been his son. They both shared the thick bronze hair that, even at fifty-six, hadn’t disappeared with the ravages of time. He was lined because he didn’t believe in Botox or plastic surgery—for himself, but his mistresses were all like blow-up dolls—but he was strong and slim, and his tailored clothes made him look a good ten years younger than his actual age.

  His eyes…we shared them. A rich blue that was close to a glassy royal cerulean, and his mouth was mine too. Full and pouty—on me, it looked fine, but I’d seen pictures of him as a boy and his mouth had been effeminate. Time had thinned his lips out, but it didn’t age him, merely made him look sterner.

  And stern was the way of it in the aftermath of Luke’s passing. To which he was insistent in finding a way to get the poor woman Luke had attacked, charged with murder. The lines at his brow, between his eyes, and bracketing his mouth were harder, and I knew he wasn’t sleeping well. His rampages could be heard from my end of the building, and I truly felt for his girlfriend, who had no choice but to deal with him in this mood.

  For myself, I could escape. Penelope? Not so much.

  And yeah, my father was that guy. He had a girlfriend, not a wife because he knew any sensible woman would marry him and divorce his ass the second she could and would sue for alimony that would keep her in luxury until the end of time. He was also in possession of a stable, yup, a stable of mistresses that he had on some kind of weird schedule. I’d even met a few, and they were way too good for my father.

  But that was money for you.

  It talked.

  Those eyes we shared were narrowed on me. “Is this true, gentlemen? Are you so grievous of my son’s passing that you decided to make a toast in his honor?”

  Paul and Alix were standing, awkward as hell, their hands crossed in front of their packages, in the middle of the office as my father cast judgment on them like King Solomon.

  Surrounded by the opulence of this room, their cheap suits looked all the cheaper in contrast to the rich walnut paneling that lined the walls, the millions of dollars’ worth of art, and the expensive furniture my father had as a standard. This office had been replicated in each and every single one of his properties. Everything else could change, but this room could not.

  I was tired of it. Tired because this was where he reprimanded us like a good patriarch did, and bored because I spent a lot of time here being slapped around for misdemeanors my father deemed grave enough to catch his attention.

  At his question, however, Paul and Alix stopped shuffling around and straightened up. I knew they were going to take the life raft I’d offered them, and I crossed my legs, jaded with it all as they fell on the harpoon of my offering.

  My father, being the egocentric, selfish asshole that he was, ate it up. I wouldn’t know until he made his final judgment if he was falling for it or not, but I had a feeling because I’d brought Luke into it, his golden boy, that things would be okay for my guards.

  Sure, I didn’t like them. Sure, they were dicks. And nope, I didn’t mind getting them into shit, but it was a pain in the ass breaking in new security. The last thing I wanted was new staff who wouldn’t know me, wouldn’t know how I rolled.

  “Luke’s death was a tragedy, sir,” Alix rasped, clearing his throat as he darted a look at his boss.

  “That it was.” My father’s mouth tightened as he rubbed his chin. “I never expected the staff to take his passing so hard, but I should have realized how he touched everyone around him.”

  Ha.

  Touched being the operative word. Not one of the maids had been safe from Luke. Not a single one, and there hadn’t been a damn thing I could do to rectify that.

  No one was crying over my scum-sucking brother’s passing, no one except for my scum-sucking father.

  Said scum-sucker snapped his fingers. “Just this once, in Luke’s memory, I’ll let this slide, but my daughter’s security is more imperative than ever. Luke was a young man, and I’ll admit to being lax with him because he needed to sow his oats. But look where that laxness got him. And me,” he tacked on grimly, his mouth turning down at the corners. “You’re on a probation of sorts, and I’ll be monitoring you. You may leave.”

  Paul muttered, “Thank you, sir.”

  Alix flashed me a grateful look, but he parroted his colleague, before they both turned on their heel and went to leave the office.

  I didn’t hold my breath, not until they’d made their exit, because my father liked to toy with people too. Only when they’d departed in earnest did I accept that Donavan Lancaster had accepted my bullshit.

  With the door clicking to a close, I turned to face him and saw he was studying me. “Luke’s death has affected you greatly, child.”

  I didn’t tense up even though I wanted to—fuck, the need to burst out laughing was a desperate one. “Of course, it has. The house isn’t the same without him in it.” Without his poison lacing the air.

  Father sighed and rocked back in his desk chair. The plush cream leather surrounded by a gleaming walnut cosseted him as he comforted himself. “That’s true. We’ll make her pay, Lily. Don’t worry about that.”

  My stomach began to churn at his words because when my father wanted something, it wasn’t often he didn’t get it. If anyone didn't deserve ‘justice,’ it was Luke. Giulia Fontaine should get a Noble Peace Prize for slaying that monster. He made demons look friendly, for fuck’s sake. In fact, if given the choice to be locked in a room with a demon or Luke, I’d take Satan’s minion every damn time because that was how evil my brother was.

  “I know you have everything in hand, Father,” I told him softly, not by one word or change of expression revealing my utter hatred of him or my brother.

  His eyes sparkled at that. “Such faith.”

  “Your will is indomitable,” I told him, lacing the words with praise when all I truly felt was revulsion.

  “That it is.” He rubbed his chin as he looked at me, his gaze skating over today’s spectacular makeup job. Then he stunned the life out of me. “I’m sorry I took my grief out on you yesterday.”

  Not once, not a single time in twenty-two years had he ever apologized.

  For a second, I could do no more than gape at him. So accustomed to controlling my expression, to showing him only so much, I was at a loss until he started to scowl, evidently pissed that I wasn�
��t rushing to accept his apology.

  Quickly, I cleared my throat. “It’s my fault, Father. I shouldn’t have pushed you as I did.”

  He sighed. “No, child, you shouldn’t have. I shall endeavor to control my temper more. Luke’s passing is a tragedy we’re all feeling. I must remember that, as I lost a son, you lost your brother.”

  “I miss him,” I lied, my tone gentle enough to have Donavan swallowing thickly as he ate up my bullshit.

  “I do too.”

  Was it too soon? Did I dare to tread where angels would have feared?

  Carefully, I whispered, “How are you going to make her pay, Father? How will you get justice for Luke?”

  Donavan’s eyes flashed with anger, but I sensed that it was aimed at Luke’s killer and not me. And trust me, I knew when all that potent rage was aimed my way. I’d dealt with it for years and would deal with it until the time was right.

  Until my name was in his will. With Luke’s death, I had to think that would be soon.

  “You needn’t worry—”

  “I’m not worrying, Father. I wish to help if I can.” Help fuck things up. “My influence in town has more reach than yours. Especially in society. What can I do?”

  My father rocked forward, and I saw the gleam in his eyes, a gleam that was close to arousal. I knew what that looked like too. God help me.

  “She’s being protected by that scum-sucking MC,” —Funny how he used the same word I had to describe him and Luke for the MC— “so that’s where I’m centering my attention. When I take them down, she’ll be defenseless.”

  “How do you intend on doing that?”

  “Pulling in markers with the mayor. Making sure the right pockets are full with my cash rather than theirs. That mini-mall of theirs has to be laundering money from their ill-gotten gains.” He’d know. He had more illegal gains than anyone on this planet. “Investigations into their management leads me to believe they have links to the Five Points in Hell’s Kitchen. I’m just not sure how. The sheriff is surprisingly deaf to my attempts to twist his arm for more information—”

  I tipped my head to the side. “I know Joseph from the Country Club. I could speak with him. Tell him how much his aid in this matter would be useful.”

  He started to shake his head, then I smiled at him, schooling my features into one of entreaty. He liked when I pleaded. So I did. I pleaded with him to let me help him take down an innocent woman. And as he studied me, he stopped shaking his head and said, “You’d like to help?”

  “Avenge my brother’s death? Absolutely!” I told him, my tone strident.

  His gaze turned thoughtful. “You’re my only remaining child, Lily. You have to know what that means.”

  I looked him straight in the eye. “That I need to make you proud of me?”

  Whatever he’d anticipated hearing from me, it wasn’t that. I knew because he straightened in his seat and stated, “Indeed, I must learn to control my temper.”

  “And I must learn not to irritate you.”

  He liked that.

  His smile revealed those shark-like teeth of his.

  “Luke was…” He hesitated. “He was my son and I loved him, but he was headstrong. The business…he wasn’t suited to it.”

  Damn straight he wasn’t.

  “If I can help, Father, I will.”

  He drummed his fingers against the desk. “Perhaps your major will finally come into use. I wasn’t happy with you studying economics, but maybe everything happens for a reason.”

  I pressed my knees together and surged upward with an elegance that had been imbued in me thanks to two terms at a Swiss finishing school—yeah, they still existed, God help me—and strode over to his desk. Standing where Paul and Alix had, I showed none of the weaknesses they did. The school hadn’t taught me that, my father had, and I maintained eye contact as I declared, “All I’ve ever wanted is to make you proud, Father.”

  He blinked slowly, then murmured, “You just did, Lily.”

  Smiling, I informed him, “I’ll be away to Crosskeys. Perhaps Joseph will be there.”

  “Tread lightly, child. This requires the precision of a surgeon and not a butcher.”

  Apt considering that was probably how you could describe me and Luke. I was careful. Luke wasn’t.

  “I won’t let you down.”

  He hummed. “I’m sure you won’t.”

  But it wasn’t a threat, more than anything, it felt hopeful. Like he wanted to believe in me. Like he wanted to think I was on his side.

  With another smile, I turned on my heel and made my way toward the doors. I knew he studied my ass, knew it and loathed him for it, and I only really breathed a sigh of relief once I was outside of his office and down the hall, because I knew he had cameras on those double doors.

  When I made it to the landing and started down the curved staircase that swirled into the foyer with a flourish, I saw Alix standing there.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said softly. Gratefully.

  It was always useful to have someone’s gratitude. “You did nothing wrong. It’s a trying time for everyone.”

  He didn’t say anything, but from the flicker in his eyes, I knew he was more upset about the Chiefs winning the Superbowl than he was about my dick of a brother’s death.

  I patted him on the shoulder, even as I began moving down the corridor to the west wing of the property where my quarters were.

  About twenty steps away, and without turning back, I called out, “I’ll be going to Crosskeys within the hour, Paul.”

  “We’ll be ready,” he assured me.

  I nodded and carried on toward my destination. Not even in here could I relax. Father had cameras in my bedroom too, probably my bathroom as well. Pervert. So I maintained my expression and retreated to the space I used as an office. Not that I had much work to do, in fact, I was nothing more than a doll who lived in here, one my father used as a puppet to hang off his arm when the appropriate time came for him to show the image of a family man to the world at large.

  The space was simple with a glass desk, a white leather tubular chair that rocked when I took a seat, and a laptop that purred to life when I clicked my mouse.

  After I checked my email, I signed out again and reached for my phone that I left beside my mouse. Aware my father could be watching, I tried to do everything in my power to avoid his suspicions. Only when I’d behaved with what I considered normalcy, I lifted my phone and searched for the number the guy from the MC had given me.

  He hadn’t replied to the message I’d sent this morning, hadn’t told me if they’d found the women Luke had been keeping prisoner there, and truth be told, I was glad because I wasn’t sure if my father could access my phone remotely. A thought that made my nerves churn and, rather than tap out what I wanted to say, I stared at my manicure for a few moments then, sucking in a breath, typed, So glad we met.

  Maybe it was a weird way to start a conversation, but if my dad was monitoring my phone, then hopefully he wouldn’t find this too disconcerting. I met a lot of people, after all. I dealt with a lot of people too.

  Friends were encouraged.

  Links to other important families were vital to keeping our peak place in society.

  Him: Excuse me?

  I wished I knew his name. Mr. Green Eyes wasn’t going to cut it. The guy wasn’t exactly James Bond. If anything, with everything about him disreputable, from his cut and patches to that tousled mass of hair, he was more likely to be a villain in a Bond movie than a friend of 007.

  Me: It was a pleasure to meet you. I’d like to meet again.

  There was a pause then as, I figured, he was getting on the same page as me.

  Him: When? Where?

  I licked my lips, thrilled he understood. Or, at least, hoping he managed to discern my intent.

  Me: Crosskeys? Next thirty minutes?

  Him: Okay.

  Releasing a relieved breath, I gnawed on my bottom lip for a little while, t
hen closed my eyes and hoped this would work out.

  I was living by a rule that had existed since the beginning of time.

  The enemy of my enemy was my friend.

  In this instance, the Satan’s Sinners were my allies.

  They just didn’t know it yet.

  Link

  Tink pulled a face when I shoved the plug into her ass and told her, “Keep it there until I get back.”

  “It’s cold.”

  Amused, I informed her, “Your asshole will soon warm it up.”

  She huffed then rolled onto her belly, displaying that fine tushy of hers for me to ogle. And fuck, I ogled it. She was both small and curvy yet frail with it too, and she wasn’t a bitch. Today, I’d needed that.

  Fuck, had I.

  We’d screwed but Tink was kind too, and when I’d fucked her to try to forget what I’d seen in the early hours of the morning? She hadn’t minded. She’d just spread her legs and let me find solace between them.

  You couldn’t fuck your way out of a bad place, but it was better than nothing in my opinion.

  I slapped her perky ass cheek after I pulled on my jeans and tugged up the zipper. I had half a boner so it wasn’t comfortable, but I’d done worse for the MC than go to some swank as fuck country club and talk to some rich bitch. Especially when that rich bitch seemed to need to talk to us. She’d given us those coordinates when we’d been fucked over trying to find any hint of land the Lancaster cunt might have owned, somewhere he could store humans like they were fucking hamsters, but we’d come up with nothing. Lancaster’s sister had been the key.

  “Hurry back,” Tink whined, and although I didn’t like whiners, I just smirked at her because I knew she hated butt plugs and she knew I loved them.

  That was the price of fucking me.

  I was all about the ass.

  Just thinking about it made my dick harden as I strolled out of my room and headed down to the office where I knew Rex would be.

  I tapped once but didn’t bother waiting on his shout—perk of being on the council—and the second I was inside, scanned it, saw Nyx and Stone were there, and muttered, “Heads up.”