by L A Cotton
“That’s why he called you, no? Because he discovered Braiden was in town?”
“Well, yes, but it would seem he failed to mention this matter.”
Of course, he did. If it came out I knew Braiden, it might also come out that he tried to rape me.
“He probably felt responsible. He should have known, shouldn’t he? It’s his job to protect me, after all.” I felt my voice crack at the end, and I hoped I hadn’t given away my venom toward Jason.
Sensing my discomfort, Mom leaned to my father and whispered something. He nodded and crossed one of his legs over the other. “And now? You know who he is?”
“Braiden? Yes, I know.”
“And so you understand why I did what I did?”
Something flashed across his face. Frankie O’Connor, one of the most unyielding men I’d ever met, looked almost regretful. But that couldn’t be right. Could it? It didn’t make sense.
I shrugged too choked up to reply. Did he really expect me to say I understood why he had tortured and beaten the guy I’d fallen for?
“You need to understand some things, Cara. I’ve tried to keep you separate from my business, but being a part of this family means that certain things can’t go unnoticed. I’m sorry you had to see your friend that way. I’m sorry that you probably hate me right now. But I do what is necessary to protect this family and the business I have worked hard to build. I will always do what I feel is necessary.”
“I-” Words failed me. I had nothing. I wanted to scream a million different things at the man sitting in front of me. But it wouldn’t change anything.
“Give your father chance to explain, baby,” Mom urged, clasping a hand over his knee. How had she stuck by him all of these years? Knowing what he did?
You can’t help who you fall in love with. Her words from my childhood came back to me. Would I have cared so much if the guy in the annex, beaten and bruised, wasn’t a guy I’d given my heart to? Would I have been sitting there looking at my father like I no longer recognized him? Probably not. Because I did know my father. I knew who he was and what he stood for. I had listened to the rumors, heard the whispers.
Love changed everything.
It gave you something worth fighting for.
Calmly, I said, “What will happen to him now? To Braiden? Why have you brought him into the house?”
“Your mother reminded me of a few things, but Cara, do not mistake my hospitality for weakness. Braiden has a choice to make.”
“And if he makes the wrong one?”
“Oh, I don’t think he will. I can be rather persuasive.”
“What is that supposed to m-”
“Frank. Just tell her.”
“I need information Braiden has or can get me. A group of men is determined to end everything we’ve built here in Seattle. It doesn’t just affect me; it affects your mother, you, my men, and their families.”
My head spun with the idea that some kind of war was unfolding around us and that somehow, Braiden was at the center of it.
“And he if cooperates?”
“He lives.”
My body relaxed into the chair, relief coursing through my veins. But my father’s eyes darkened as he said, “Cara, this ends now. Whatever crush you’ve developed, whatever you think it is that you have with Braiden Donohue, ends now.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Mom shot me a look that made me think twice. I nodded, biting down on my tongue to stop the pleas from pouring out. Didn’t he understand he was breaking my heart all over again?
Of course, he did; that was part of the reason I was sitting here. He was stamping down his authority, laying down yet more rules for me to follow. I was to be grateful he was offering Braiden an out—as long as I fell into line and never mentioned his name again.
A rush of tears burned at the back of my eyes, and I quickly excused myself, ignoring their calls. I ran through the house, up the stairs, and into my room, slamming the door behind me. I felt like the teenager who got caught sneaking out to meet her boyfriend and then was grounded for a month. Only this was worse. Far worse.
Because back when I was in high school, it hadn’t been a case of life and death.
Mom came by at some point to check in on me, but I refused to open the door. It was childish, but I needed time. This wasn’t just some schoolgirl crush. It was fate. Braiden walked into my life for a reason, and I refused to believe that it was only to break my heart. It hurt too much to accept that.
I sat against my bed watching the sun set over Washington Park. It was beautiful, the orange glow illuminating the tops of the trees. It was one of my favorite places, one of my fonder memories of growing up here. Even after the moon replaced the sun, I remained in the spot on the carpet just staring out the window. I hated the feeling of powerlessness weighing me down. It had been the same way my whole life. I was born to learn and explore and make mistakes; that much was obvious when I broke my leg the first time I tried to make the jump from the balcony to the oak tree. I’d almost made it, but a bird spooked me and I fell knocking myself unconscious and breaking my leg in two places. Mom had wanted to change the whole window, but Daddy insisted I’d learned my lesson. And he was right, to some degree. I didn’t try to make the jump again until I was in my junior year. It was as if he gave me freedom to find my own way on one hand and took it away on the other.
And I hated him for it.
The more he pushed, the more I pulled. We’d argue and I’d spend days not talking to him until Mom would intervene and mediate a compromise. But there was no compromise this time. I wouldn’t be getting what I wanted out of this shitty situation. But when has that ever stopped me?
Checking the clock on my nightstand, I stood up and moved to the door, opening it slightly. Greeted with silence, I waited, listening for any signs that anyone was still awake. My father operated on little sleep, often returning from his club in the city in the middle of the night. Mom, on the other hand, liked her beauty sleep, and unless she was accompanying Daddy to one of his meetings, she was usually lights out by ten. It was just past midnight.
It was a risk.
But then, what did I have left to lose?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Braiden
No one came.
I waited.
And waited.
I waited all fucking afternoon, and no one returned to the room. The housekeeper stopped by to bring me some more soda and a turkey sub, but that was it. No O’Connor, no Annie, no Cara. Not that I expected to see her. Not after I’d told her we were done. Fuck. The look in her eyes when I’d forced myself to say the words had gutted me.
I was a bastard.
And I deserved to rot in hell.
At least, my new prison came without the beatings. A whole day without any fresh injuries and I was finally starting to feel like my old self. Even my eye had started to improve, thanks to the cream I found in the cabinet in the small bathroom. But, if it was possible, time passed even slower holed up in the bedroom, knowing Cara was somewhere in the house. So close I could almost feel her. I’d thought I had heard her earlier, but by the time I shot to the door to listen, everything had gone quiet. So here I was lying on my bed unable to sleep because my mind refused to quiet.
She consumed me. Every thought, breath, ache. It was all her. Deep regret for the way I had treated her, how I had discarded her as if she meant nothing to me. I did it with the best intentions, but now—being in this impossible situation—I was beginning to think I’d been wrong. What if I never laid eyes on her again? What if I never got to explain that I meant none of it, that she was so much more to me than she could ever understand? That she’d made me realize the type of guy I wanted to be.
Bottom line—Cara O’Connor made me want to be better.
She made me a better guy.
Lying there in the darkness, I felt myself start to slip into oblivion. Finally, sleep would come, and maybe, just maybe, when I awoke, things would seem a litt
le bit better than the shitstorm raging around me at that moment.
“Braiden, Braiden.” Her voice was like soft silk gliding over my skin, and I turned into its comfort needing more. “Braiden …”
I bolted upright and found myself staring into eyes I thought I’d never see again. “What the fuck, Cara?” I hissed sounding far more pissed than I intended.
Her face paled in the darkness and guilt sliced through me. Why couldn’t I just say the right thing? Why did I always have to fuck things up? Hesitating at the side of the bed, Cara pulled nervously at the sleeves of her hoodie. “I- I had to see you.”
Without thinking, I shuffled forward dropping my feet over the side of the bed and pulled her into me, burying my hands in her short hair, relishing the feel of it against my skin. “I am so sorry. I fucked up, Cara. You have to forgive me. Forgive me, please.”
Her arms wound around my shoulders and we held each other as tight as possible, knowing it would never be close enough. I flinched as my ribs protested at being crushed by a one-hundred-and-twenty-pound girl. Cara pulled away, her eyes filled with alarm. “You’re hurting. Crap, I’m sorry.”
“Listen to us with all the apologies,” I said trying to cut through some of the tension zapping between us. Brushing her hair away from her face, I searched her eyes for some sign that things between us were okay. It was a lot to ask—after everything—but I needed to know I hadn’t fucked things up too much. “Come here.”
I brushed my nose across the tip of hers causing Cara to suck in a sharp breath, her chest rising between us. Our lips found each other’s and I cupped the back of her neck, cementing her to me. Everything I felt—anger, frustration, pain—poured into the kiss. Each stroke, lick, and breath filled with my apology. Cara matched my aggression with her own—clawing at my shoulders, biting my lip, and pushing herself into me so hard that I had to readjust to keep us upright.
“I should hate you,” she murmured into my mouth. I swallowed her words. Letting them burn through me. Making a silent promise to her—to myself—that I would never hurt her again.
“Show me. Show me how much you hate me.”
Cara broke off the kiss and pulled back to glare at me. “Bastard.” Her hand collided with my cheek and fire pulsed through me. She raised her hand again, but I caught it and tugged her forward capturing her mouth again. We could do this all night—her telling me how much of a fucker I was and how I didn’t deserve her, but she wouldn’t be telling me anything I didn’t already know. And this time, I wasn’t going anywhere.
My hands found the hem of her hoodie and wound their way inside, skating up her warm stomach and around her waist. She arched into my touch, moaning softly into my mouth. “We have to be quiet, Braiden. No one can know I’m in here.”
If I had my way, everyone would know Cara was in here. Especially that fucker Jason. If he was anywhere in the house, I wanted him outside the door hearing every moan and scream I was going to draw from her. But I didn’t want to make things any worse for Cara than they already were, so I anchored one arm under her ass and lifted her up.
“Braiden,” she shrieked her voice trailing off into a whisper when she realized where I was heading. The bathroom door closed behind us. It was small, hardly enough room for the both of us, but I didn’t care. I didn’t plan on her being out of touching distance from me. Cara continued kissing me, nipping at my tongue and soothing the sting with her lips while I fumbled with the shower stall door. Finally, I managed to open it, reach inside, and turn the dial. Water streamed down bouncing off the glass and splashing us. Cara shrieked again, but the sound of the jets drowned out her voice as I stepped inside taking her with me.
Pushing her against the tiles, I trapped her between my body and the wall, freeing up my hands. They made quick work of unzipping her soaked hoodie, and my already hard dick strained at the sight of her tits underneath her now see-through tank. Ducking my head, I drew one of her peaks into my mouth and sucked gently. Cara yelped and her hands went to my hair, yanking. Pulling my face level with hers, she panted. “What are we doing, Braiden?”
“What we should have been doing all along,” I replied, locking my eyes on hers, trying to tell her everything I should have already had the balls to say. Letting my hands fall to the waistband of her sweatpants, I realized I would have to release her to get her out of them. “Hop down,” I commanded.
She blinked, confusion shining in her hooded eyes, but when I dropped my eyes to her pants, she smiled and lowered her legs for me to inch the material down her legs. Once she had stepped out of them, I lifted her back up and leaned in to kiss her again. Slow and steady, I traced my tongue along her jaw and collarbone working my way up to her earlobe. Her body shuddered against me, and I pulled the hand-me-down t-shirt over my head. Cara’s hands traced over my abs and up across my pecs as my head dropped back into the stream of water. Feather kisses tracked the column of my neck until her lips kissed my scar, and my whole body tingled with need. Nothing felt better than her touching me did.
Okay, maybe one thing.
With one hand, I pushed the track pants and boxers off my hips. My dick sprung free as I clawed at the edge of Cara’s panties, pushing them aside and lining up my dick with her center. I buried one hand in the hair at the nape of her neck, forcing her to look at me as she slid down on me like silk. The feel of her, the water, her eyes full of desire, it was all too much and I stilled inside her, trying to gain some control. My body, still sore and throbbing with pain, couldn’t handle too much, but I didn’t need to worry. Cara gripped onto my shoulders and started moving up and down, riding me. I hooked my arms around her thighs and pulled her off the wall pressing my back against the slick glass.
Eyes still locked on mine, Cara didn’t stop. Pushing up and slamming back down on me, I matched her rhythm, thrusting inside her and drawing breathless moans from her. Everything hurt like a motherfucker. My ribs, my arms, even my dick ached, but I didn’t stop, anchoring her to me, harder and faster. Cara’s moans grew louder but remained muffled by the sound of the shower, and I knew when she was close. Her head dropped back and her eyes fluttered shut as she tightened around me.
“Br-Braiden, don’t stop. God, don’t stop.”
I released one hand to touch her body. I wanted to feel all of her. Every inch. My hands smoothed over her waist, up her back, and eventually came around to squeeze her tits. Rolling her nipple between my fingers, I watched as she came undone. It was the green light I needed, and I pumped into her a couple of more times, forcing her down on my dick until I felt the tingle at the bottom of my spine.
Pleasure rushed through me as I pulled her close, burying my head in her shoulder, water still cascading down around us. I’d been lying to myself when I ever thought I could give this up. She was perfection. Cara O’Connor was everything I ever needed but didn’t know I wanted.
I let my pulse slow down before reaching around her and turning off the shower.
“Shit, Braiden,” she hissed slapping her hand against my chest as I lowered her to the floor. “You didn’t wear a condom.”
“Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair to drain off the excess water, feeling too damn good to let this be an issue.
“Yeah, fuck.” Cara scowled up at me, and if it weren't so fucking cute, it would have scared me. “If you knock me up, my father will kill you.”
“Blondie.” I pulled her back into the shower as she tried to leave and spun her around. “Your father wants me dead anyway.”
And just like that, one moment of perfection exploded into a perfect fucking mess, but as I followed her out of the shower, I couldn’t wipe the smirk off my face. Because Cara O’Connor was mine.
Now, I just had to find a way to keep her.
“You do realize they probably know you’re in here?” I traced lazy patterns on Cara’s bare shoulder. “Maybe you should-”
She pulled her head up to meet my eyes. “So help me God, do not finish that sentence, Braiden Donohue. I just
got you back, so I’m not leaving yet. Besides, of course, they probably know; I’m pretty sure it’s all part of Daddy’s grand plan,” she mused, leaning down to kiss the corner of my mouth.
But something about her remark bothered me. “Grand plan? What the fuck does that mean?”
Cara sighed and flopped back against the pillows, tucking her head into the crook of my arm. “He knows. Mom told him. I’m not sure he knows everything, but he knows enough, and he knows his daughter. I’ve never dated, Braiden. Ever. So for me to like someone, well, it’s kind of a big deal. I’m pretty sure after our little father-daughter talk, he was banking on his stubborn-ass daughter finding a way to pay a late-night visit to her forbidden …” She tensed and I waited, wondering what she would label us as. “Well, whatever we are. He wants you to choose, Braiden. And there’s only one answer he’ll accept.”
The room zeroed in around us, the pieces all slotting into place. It was O’Connor’s way or nothing. I twisted around to my side and stared down at the girl who owned me. “And us? Are you a part of the deal?”
I knew—of course, I fucking knew, but I had to ask. The tiny seed of hope that tonight had planted; I needed to believe there might have been a chance for us. That maybe, just maybe, we could be together after the dust settled.
Closing her eyes, Cara blinked back the tears, and I reached up and brushed away the ones that escaped. “It’s okay.”
“Okay?” Her eyes opened, widening with disbelief. “How is any of this okay? I can’t imagine never seeing you again.”
A new pain crashed over me and I pulled her closer, inhaling her sweet scent. “Shh, don’t. Let’s just enjoy this, okay?”
“What will you do?”
“Geez, Cara.”
“Sorry, okay. I’m sorry, but time is running out, and I can’t stand it. I need to know what you’ll do.” She pushed up onto her elbow, angling herself to face me. “Will you give him the information he wants?”