I sighed, my heart swelling with love for this beautiful man. Inside and out, he was everything I’d ever dreamed of. The fact that he was real was almost unbelievable.
Unable to wipe the smile from my face, I went searching for a room service menu. After ordering a huge breakfast for us, I jumped in the shower, hesitant to wash away the remnants of last night.
My skin was still tingling from Bullet’s touch, I could still feel his hands on me, his lips on mine. I hated to have to leave but I had a shift at the gallery later and there was no way I was going to be late, no matter how hard it was going to be to pull myself away from Bullet. Especially since my boss had offered me a show. I was determined to show her how thankful I was by doing the best job possible.
I comforted myself with the thought that I could see Bullet again tonight.
As I dried myself off, I heard the ding of my phone from the next room. I dressed quickly, putting my black dress back on, a shiver of desire running through me when I remembered Bullet lifting the hem of it last night. He’d made love to me like never before, our bodies wrapped together, lost in a mesmerizing ecstasy that left me shuddering and shaking all night.
I walked out of the bathroom and saw he was awake, watching me from the bed, his hair tousled around his head.
“You look like a sculpture,” I said, saving the image in my head for later.
“Oh, yeah?” he mused. “You should come run those hands over me, then.”
I smiled, “I ordered breakfast. It should be here soon.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m starved.”
“Me, too,” I said, walking over near the door and finding my purse lying on the table. I pulled it out to check it, wondering if it was Julia who’d texted me. But it wasn’t a text, it was an email.
I opened it curiously and stood reading it, my head wrinkled in confusion.
Dear Libby,
My name is Charlene Vanderbilt. I’m in town from Manhattan and I saw some of your work at Breeze Block. I’m completely enamored with your style and I’d love to commission a custom sculpture from you. Money is no object.
Please contact me as soon as possible, so we can arrange a personal meeting. I’m only in town for two more days.
Sincerely,
Charlene
“What’s wrong, babe?” Bullet asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing.” I put my phone away and turned back to him. “Just work.”
He reached out for me and I fell into his arms, my head spinning. I’d never had a commission before. I also didn’t have any work currently showing at the gallery, but perhaps my boss had shown my pictures to this woman. I didn’t recognize her name, but that didn’t mean a thing.
Bullet kissed me while I basked in the glory my life had become. I couldn’t remember ever being this happy, and certainly not since all the trauma Mona had put me through.
Maybe everything was going to work out after all.
Maybe now things would start falling into place for me.
When room service knocked, Bullet yelled out, asking them to leave it by the door.
He didn’t retrieve our breakfast until he’d finished feasting on my body.
CHAPTER FIFTY
BULLET
After I gave Libby a ride home, I drove back to the hotel with a grin the size of Texas. Last night was hands-down the best night of my life.
There was a time when I thought I’d never be happy again.
For years before I met Libby, I wasn’t sure happiness was something I was supposed to experience. I was consumed of thoughts of my twin brother back then, consumed with guilt and regret after he died our senior year in high school. I joined up with a biker gang to hide the pain. When that club broke up, I was sure my life was over. But then the Gods took us in, made us part of their family and all of a sudden, I had a purpose again.
I may not have been happy, but at least I had a fucking reason to wake up in the morning. I was content with my work.
And then I met Libby in that dank, dark basement, all of us scared out of our minds, none of us knowing what was going to happen. I never dreamed I’d fall in love with her.
But I had. Hard.
And in one of the worst moments of my life, I somehow found happiness.
But once we got out, it was short-lived. As quickly as Libby came into my life, she left it. The fact that she was back, the reality of the night we spent together last night, hell, it all left me spun.
I walked back into the hotel lobby trying to wipe the grin from my face. A few of the Gods were there, drinking whiskey and splayed out on the white leather couches in the lobby like they owned the place.
“Hey brothers,” I said in greeting, after grabbing a drink for myself and joining them. It was early afternoon, but I didn’t care.
“Damn, Bullet, you’re fucking glowing!” Shadow said, patting me on the back. “I take it you and Libby had a good night?”
“Yeah, we did,” I said, my grin growing wider.
“I bet,” he laughed. “Vick, Colt, and Storm had a really good time, too.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said.
“Dude,” Vick said, shaking his head. “The three of us hooked up with the hottest cougar I’ve ever seen! She was like a wildcat, totally out of control, doing the craziest things with her mouth, man —.”
“She was fucking amazing,” Colt said, looking like he’d been through the wringer. “Best night of my life, honestly.”
“Wow,” I replied, laughing. “What was her name?”
“Her name?” Storm said, wrinkling her brow. “Shit, I don’t think we even got her name.”
“Classy, fellas, real classy,” I replied, shaking my head.
“Dude, when you’re with a chick like that, names don’t matter.”
“Well, are you going to see her again or what?”
“Doubtful,” Vick scoffed. “She kicked us out at the crack of dawn.”
“I guess you guys didn’t make the same impression on her that she did on you,” I remarked.
“Who cares, man?” Storm said. “That’s the kind of woman you can only handle one night of. She was a dangerous handful.”
“Six handfuls, apparently,” I said, wearily.
They laughed, their bellows echoing through the quiet lobby.
“What about you, Shadow? You weren’t into the orgy?”
“Nah, man, I spent the night with Julia,” he said, his voice growing deeper. I raised an eyebrow, but kept silent. Libby would definitely be interested in this information.
I sank back into the couch, counting the minutes until I could see her again.
She was at work and she promised she’d call me when she got out so I could take her out again. Perhaps someplace a little more casual this time, just to mix it up a little. Although, if I’m being honest, I’d prefer the quaint casualness of my bed upstairs.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
LIBBY
After managing to get someone to cover the end of my shift, I left work early and drove over to the Heathman. The Heathman is the opposite type of hotel from the Hotel deLuxe, where Bullet was staying. One of the oldest hotels in Portland, it’s all dark woods, antique crystal chandeliers and stiff-lipped waiters decked out in formal tuxedos.
There was no way I could afford valet parking, so I parked in the nearby parking garage and strode over to the hotel. It was raining tonight, but not a tolerable rain, like we usually had. Tonight, it was mixed with a strong wind that whipped your hair around your head and left you looking like a wet rat. Using an umbrella on night’s like this were useless, because the wind destroyed the strongest of umbrellas.
After living here all your life, you just learn to give up.
I approached the door of the hotel, nodding to the uniformed man who opened the door for me.
Nerves gripped my heart.
I’d never had a commission before. In fact, I was half-convinced this was a big mistake and whoever Charlene Vanderbilt was, she had
the wrong person. But I’d replied to her email and she’d insisted on meeting tonight. I figured it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to clear up this case of mistaken identity and I’d be able to hurry over to Bullet’s hotel and spend the rest of the evening with him.
As agreed upon, I waited in the hotel lounge, sipping a fifteen-dollar glass of house wine and people-watching.
Everyone was dressed to the nines, and I felt a little out of place in my yellow sundress. As the minutes ticked by, my nerves increased. I downed the wine just a little too quickly, reminding myself to slow down because it was probably a lot stronger than the five-dollar bottles I was used to buying at Freddie’s.
Outside, the streets of downtown Portland were full of tourists. I’d never understood the pull of Portland as a tourist town, with nothing much to see except trees, trees and more trees, but it really appealed to the foodies who came here just to dine in our nice restaurants. If any of them asked me, though, I’d tell them to head out to the Columbia River Gorge and escape this maze of cars and glass high-rises.
But none of them asked me.
So, I sat silently waiting, until the bartender walked over and asked me my name. When I told him, he nodded and slid a hotel room key across to me.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Ms. Vanderbilt requested you meet her in her room, madam,” he said. “The penthouse suite. The elevators are just around the corner behind you.”
I stared at the key without touching it. Going up to a hotel room to meet someone you didn’t know was against the first rule of women’s safety. I knew better.
“Is there a problem, madam?”
“I just don’t know her. Did she seem…um…nice?” I asked, immediately regretting my word choice. Hell, Jeffrey Dohmer seemed nice.
“Oh, she was very charming,” he said. “Very nice woman, yes. I’m sure you’re safe. If anything’s weird, just call down to the front desk and they’ll send security up right away.”
I nodded, contemplating if I should just leave, while the bartender walked away.
“Fuck, Libby, stop being so paranoid,” I whispered to myself. “This is just business. It’s a woman. You’re not going to get assaulted. She just wants a piece of your art. This is your dream.”
I nodded to myself, my inner dialogue continuing.
“Right. I need to get comfortable with this sort of thing. All business.”
I downed my wine and grabbed the key, heading for the elevator.
With each of the seven dings, my heart pounded harder.
This is your dream, this is your dream, this is your dream…
I repeated this mantra with every step as I walked down the long hallway that led to the penthouse suite. When I found it, I stood in front of the large, carved wooden doors for several long moments, trying to get my heart rate to return to normal.
Finally, with trembling hands, I reached up and knocked. The bartender had given me the key, but I wasn’t about to just open the door.
“It’s open!” A muffled female voice called out. Gingerly, I tried the doorknob. It gave and my heart skipped a beat.
Slowly, I took a step in, my knees shaking, as I closed the door behind me. I waited for further instruction, but was met with the faint sound of music. A long hallway stretched out before me, leading into a larger room.
I took a deep breath, and began walked down it, my heels clicking with each step on the expensive hardwood floors.
With each step, the music became louder, until I realized I was hearing one of Julia’s favorite songs — Immigrant Song, by Led Zeppelin.
“What the hell?” I whispered, wondering once again if I should turn around and run like hell.
Instead, I went against every instinct, curiosity getting the best of me.
I turned the corner and froze as I took in the scene in front of me.
Mona sat a desk in the corner, facing me.
Spread out in front of her were several rolls of duct tape, an X-Acto Knife, and a half finished portrait. She had a lit joint in one hand and a crystal snifter filled with whiskey in the other.
She smiled at me, a smile that was eerily serene.
Her eyes were wild and wide with excitement.
Sitting next to the portrait on the desk was a small black handgun.
“You!” I cried.
“Hi, baby,” she cooed, gently. She put down the joint and the glass, rushing over and embracing me before I could push her away. “It’s so good to see you!”
“I thought…”
My head spun, my heart racing even harder than when I thought she was somebody who wanted to buy my art.
“I know, baby,” she said, releasing me and staring into my eyes. “I’m sorry I had to lie to get you here. I tried to get Grace to help, but she’s useless. I just need to talk to you, Libby.”
I shook my head, looking over my shoulder for the exit.
She walked back to the desk, standing behind it with a creepy smile on her face. She looked so happy, it was almost sickening.
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” I said, my anger beginning to simmer.
“That’s perfectly fine,” she said, with a dismissive wave. “I have so much to say I can talk for both of us.” She laughed nervously. “Come over here and look at this, baby.”
Morbid curiosity got the better of me and I took a few steps forward, looking down at the piece she was working on, yet still keeping my distance.
“What do you think?”
Once I saw what it was, I took a step back in disbelief.
It was only half-finished, but it was obvious what it was — a portrait of me and Bullet having dinner at Le Pigeon last night.
“I just started today, but I’m working fast,” she said, lifting her chin proudly.
“You’ve been following me?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Oh, just a little. It’s harmless, really, don’t get upset.”
“I can’t be here.” I swallowed hard, turning on my heel to leave. I’d taken four steps when a loud shot rang out, followed by the immediate sound of glass breaking, my ears ringing from the sound. I ducked in fear, panic rising in my throat. I looked behind me and saw Mona’s gun smoking in her hand and the window shattered beside her, the extreme wind flinging rain into the room, the curtains blowing into the room.
“Sit down, Libby,” Mona said, her voice demanding and low. “These things ricochet, they’re dangerous. Don’t make me shoot again, baby.”
Trembling, I lowered myself onto a nearby sofa, fear gripping my heart. I hadn’t forgotten how crazy she was. I hadn’t forgotten how she’d hurt Slade. I still didn’t know what she’d done to Bullet, but I was convinced it was fucked up. Not to mention the trauma she’d done to me, the way she’d screwed up my life, the pain and confusion she’d left me with.
Those goddamned apples!
“Thank you, baby,” she said, her voice high and happy again. She put the gun down and picked up the joint, taking a big drag from it, huge puffs of billowy smoke filling the air.
“Want some?” she asked, holding it out to me. I shook my head silently, trying to regulate my breathing.
Mona was unpredictable. I needed to keep my wits about me, and I suddenly regretted drinking that wine earlier.
Even more so, I wished like hell I’d told somebody where I was headed tonight. Julia, Bullet, my parents, anyone…
“I’m so glad we finally have some time together to talk,” she began. “I think it’s important you understand the whole story. I really want to be in your life, Libby.”
“I want nothing to do with you, Mona,” I said, my voice shaking. “You’re an awful person.”
She nodded, looking at me sadly.
“It’s totally understandable that you think that, baby,” she said.
“Stop calling me ‘baby’.”
“Right!” she agreed, the creepy smile back on her face, “because you are so grown up now, aren’t you?” She grew w
istful, staring at me. “I missed your entire childhood.”
“That was your choice,” I said.
“It was,” she said, her voice low. Wind continued to rattle the curtains behind her, almost drowning out her words. “I felt it was the best thing at the time. I was wrong, of course. Did Grace tell you the story? Did she tell you everything?”
“She told me you broke into the museum and she arrested you. That’s all.”
She nodded, her voice far away and distant as she continued.
“I told her I was pregnant, but she didn’t care. In fact, I’d just found out that day. I was a mess back then, a huge hot mess. My boyfriend was an abusive asshole, but the moment I found out you existed, I vowed to change. I had such big plans for us…”
Her voice trailed off and she looked away, but I saw the tears that sprang to her eyes. Her eyes that looked just like mine. I turned away. It was too much. I didn’t want to hear any of this. I didn’t want to know anything about her. In fact, I wished like hell she didn’t exist at all.
“I found a dog that day, too. But I knew I couldn’t take care of him. But, he was so cute! A little black and white ball of fur. I gave him up to the shelter, because of you, you know. I wanted to be able to give you all my energy, to ensure that there were no obstacles to keeping you safe.”
“Apparently, you failed,” I snapped.
She looked as if I’d slapped her, but she recovered quickly.
“I certainly did fail,” she said, nodding. “I never should have gone back to him. Jacob, I mean. He’s your father.”
“He’s not my father and you are not my mother,” I snapped again, my anger raging now.
She sighed, nodding, the curtains blowing behind her, rain beginning to pool on the floor. I felt like I was in a dream, a movie — a terrible nightmare of a horror film. The gun lay on the table between us like a ticking bomb.
“You know what I mean,” she said, sipping from her glass. “Anyway, he was a real asshole. But I didn’t know what to do. My plan was to leave him right away. But he convinced me to go into the museum with him that night, even though I resisted. I was afraid he’d beat me again, and I didn’t want you to get hurt, so I went along. It was the worst mistake of my life.”
GODS & ANGELS: GODS OF CHAOS MC: BOOK ELEVEN Page 12