Merciless (Playboys In Love Book 3)

by Gina L. Maxwell

  “He is not a match for you. I will not give you my blessing.”

  “I’m not asking for your blessing, Papà. This is my life, and I will be with whomever I choose. I understand that you only want what’s best for me, but what’s best has nothing to do with a man’s background or what’s in his bank account. What’s best is my happiness, and no one controls that except me.”

  “Marco can make you happy. He loves you very much, piccola principessa.”

  “If that’s what truly mattered to you, you would have welcomed Austin with open arms. He was my Happily Ever After, Papà.” The knot in my throat is growing, and if I don’t leave soon, it might close up completely. “But you might as well have ripped out the back pages and set them on fire with that stunt you pulled. Congratulations, you won. I’m not with Austin anymore.”

  I wait for him to apologize, to admit fault or try to make amends for what he’s done, but the stubborn set of his chin tells me all I need to hear. Nodding to myself, I make the toughest decision of my life. “I’m moving out. I think it’s time we both learn how to live without being each other’s crutch, and I need time to forgive you.”

  “You would choose that man over your own father?”

  “No, Papà. I’m choosing myself above everyone else.”

  “Emmélie—”

  I don’t give him the opportunity to plead his case or tell me I’m being ridiculous. I just turn and walk away as I feel my heart break for a second time tonight. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m going to do once I get there. All I know is that whatever I do, it’s going to be on my terms. The two men I love most in this world have failed me. My heart may be in a hundred jagged pieces, but one by one I’ll put them back together, and if I’m lucky, someday it might even beat again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Austin

  Emi used to do this thing when she was happy and content; she sighed. When we went on walks in the park at night, she would lace our fingers together, look up at the moon, and sigh. She also did it when we watched TV together and she curled up next to me on the couch with her head on my shoulder.

  And in bed when she’d tuck into my side before falling asleep. It was one of her idiosyncrasies, one that I listened for, so I knew that everything with her was okay in that moment. I never mentioned it to her because I didn’t want her to be self-conscious about it or start to censor herself in any way.

  I loved that little sigh of hers.

  And I miss it like hell.

  Sometimes I think I hear it, and for a split second I forget. I forget the pain and the loss, the utter devastation of not being with her. Then I realize it’s only the breeze or the whisper of a door closing or my fucked-up mind playing tricks on me, and I’m dragged back to this harsh reality all over again.

  For the last three weeks, I’ve kept myself busy to the point where I’m sleeping before my head hits the pillow at night. I’m either at the station, working P4H gigs, working out, helping my dad with home projects, or hanging out with my friends. But today’s my day off. I’ve already worked out, my dad told me he’s sick of seeing me and won’t let me in the house, and all my friends are at their stupid day jobs. I thought fishing might be good enough to keep my mind busy, but all it does is remind me of our time on Martin’s boat.

  I’m sitting in a lawn chair on an empty stretch of shore, staring out at the vast expanse of Lake Michigan. My fishing pole is set up next to me in a rod holder stuck in the ground, which frees up my hands for more important things, like grabbing another beer out of the cooler and holding the beer that I just grabbed out of the cooler. I twist the cap off and take a long pull from the bottle. I’m not sure how many this is, but I’m not even close to forgetting Emi’s name so I have a ways to go.

  Not that I’ll ever be able to forget her, I made sure of that. Even if I go senile someday, every time I look in the mirror, I’ll remember the girl with the raven hair who owns my heart.

  My pole starts bending in erratic patterns like it’s tapping out Morse code. Maybe the fish is trying to tell me something. Maybe it’s giving me a message from the universe about my life, or advice on how to live without a heart in my chest. Or maybe it’s just telling me to drink more beer. That I can do.

  “Aren’t you supposed to do something with the pole when it does that?”

  I look over to see Addison standing next to me wearing a sleeveless black dress and heels. The breeze rolling in from the lake lifts her blond hair, making it dance around her angelic face, or what I can see of it around those huge sunglasses. I might not be able to see her eyes, but the single raised eyebrow speaks volumes.

  “Only if I want to catch something,” I answer with a full smile. “What’s goin’ on, Addie-girl? Get lost on your way to court?”

  “Please, I’ve never been lost a day in my life,” she says, placing a hand on her cocked hip. “And even if I was lost, I wouldn’t be for long.”

  “Because you’re a woman and you know how to ask for directions?”

  “No, dummy, because I know how to use my GPS.” I laugh. She doesn’t. When she pushes her sunglasses on top of her head, I can see the concern in her blue eyes. “What are you doing, Austin?”

  I look away. “Now who’s the dummy?” Opening the cooler, I grab an ice-cold bottle, open it up, and offer it to her. “I’d think that would be obvious, what with the fishing pole and tackle box.”

  She accepts the beer and takes a seat on the cooler, angling her body to face me. “Yeah, except the absence of any fish in that bucket and the graveyard of beer bottles under your chair says something else entirely.”

  I smile over at her, turning the charm up to full blast. “Go back to work, Addie-girl. I’m just enjoyin’ the day.”

  “Cut it out.”

  “Cut what out?”

  “The Southern boy-Rowdy act. If you’ll notice, I’ve left the sarcastic Honey Badger behind.”

  I did notice, and that’s what scares me. Addison is rarely serious, but when she is, you won’t find a sincerer friend. I can brush off playful Addie, no problem. But this Addie, not so much. Swallowing hard, I ask, “What do you want?”

  “I want you to be real with me.” That’s what I was afraid of. Turning my attention back to the water, I take a long swig of beer. “I’m going to ask you again. What are you doing, Austin?”

  That’s the fucking million-dollar question, isn’t it? What the hell am I doing?

  “Living my life. Going to work and hanging out with friends, same as you.”

  “You’re not, though,” she says. “I mean, yes, you’re doing all those things, but you’re just going through the motions. You’re not you anymore.”

  “Name one time I haven’t been my happy, flirty self,” I challenge. She can’t name one because I made damn sure of it. “There’s nothing different about the way I act. None.”

  Lifting a hand, she tenderly brushes a hank of hair back from my eyes. “Then you’re fooling yourself if you think we can’t see that it’s all an act, sweetness.” I don’t know what to say to that—I can’t volley back a string of sarcasm when she’s being so damn sincere with me—so I take another drink instead. “I know you love her, Austin, that much is obvious. What I don’t understand is why you ended it.”

  “You know, when it was just the two of us in my apartment, it was easy to pretend that we came from the same world. That traveling to different locations all over the world wasn’t as normal to her as a night at The Pony is for me. That her father couldn’t buy and sell my company one hundred times over and not even flinch.

  “But I can’t even comprehend what that kind of life is like. I’m a firefighter, for fuck’s sake. It’s a known fact I make shit money. P4H is what keeps me more than comfortable, but we’re talking house-in-the-suburbs comfortable, not vacation-home-in-the-Swiss-Alps comfortable. Which that Marco dickhead has, by the way, along with a cabin in Lake Tahoe and a private hut or whatever in fucking Fiji.” Addison raises an eyebrow
at me. I shrug. “Googled him.”

  “Okay, but just because Emi grew up having those things doesn’t mean she needs or wants them now and—”

  “Her father told me he’d disown her if she stayed with me,” I bite out. “She’d lose everything, Addie. Not only her lifestyle but her home, her only living parent…everything.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Yep. On our first date, she made a half-serious joke about her father wanting to lock her away in a tower like a princess. I told her if that ever happened, I’d rescue her.” I swallow thickly. “This whole betrothal thing is her locked tower. But I couldn’t save her without destroying her life.”

  “Damn,” she says, taking a sip of her beer finally. “And you didn’t tell her what Vincenzo said?”

  I shake my head. “Couldn’t do that to her. He’s the only parent she has left. Whether he cuts her off or she does it to him, it’d be because of me, and a part of her would always resent me for that. It’s a lose-lose situation.”

  “I’m sorry you were put in such a shitty spot, babe.” She looks out over the water, biding her time for whatever she plans on saying next, and I have no doubt Addie has things planned. She is a lawyer, after all. “For argument’s sake, let’s say that the money and lifestyle stuff wasn’t relevant and the thing with her father wasn’t hanging over your heads.”

  I expel a heavy breath. “Addie, don’t.” I’ve tortured myself enough with this fantasy and it gets me nowhere.

  “Just listen. If none of that stuff mattered, would you be with her?”

  Rising to my feet, I step to the edge of the retaining wall and look down. The swells of water roll in to crash against the stones, again and again. The same action with the same disappointing result. Just like me, banging my head against this wall of what-ifs, day in and day out.

  “Emi is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Saying her name out loud is physically painful, my misery like a horse kick to the chest, and I have to take a second to breathe through it. “The hard truth is, even if none of those other things were standing in our way, I still have doubts that I’m the best man for her.” Turning around, I face Addison, my muscles bunching with resolve I’ll never get the chance to use. “But I’m a better man when I’m with her, and I’d fight for the chance to be that man for her.”

  Addie stands and walks over to me. I half expect her to push me into the lake, because that’s the kind of shit she’s known to do. Her eyes are serious, and her smile is warm as she looks up at me. “Then go get your princess, babe. She doesn’t exactly need saving anymore—the kickass chick did that herself—but now that means you can be together.”

  “What are you talking about? What do you mean she saved herself?”

  “She told her dad she was done being a pawn in his reindeer games or whatever and moved out into her own little place. She’s taking time off from teaching for a while until she gets her feet back under her. But FYI, her cell number is the same, wink, wink, nudge, nudge.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I feel like she just tossed a bunch of puzzle pieces at me and now I’m scrambling to put them together to see the whole picture. “Shit, she’s never been on her own before. Is she okay?”

  “Don’t worry, she has plenty of her own money so she’s not destitute or anything. She just needed help when it came to finding a place and getting all her new bills set up online. You know, all that adult stuff she’s never had to do.”

  A lump forms in my throat. She gave up everything to start fresh, and it sounds like she’s doing great. It doesn’t surprise me. She’s an amazing woman. And she did it all on her own, with no influence from me.

  I need to see her.

  “Where is she,” I demand. “Where’s she living?”

  Addie winces. “That’s the catch. She swore Janey and me to secrecy about that. She doesn’t want us getting involved, which, as you probably know, is pretty much killing me. But seeing you both so miserable isn’t any damn better, so call her.”

  Okay, it’s not my preference—I’d much rather talk to her in person, look into her eyes, and tell her how I feel—but calling first to set up a time to meet isn’t the worst thing in the world. Hell, it’s a million times better than what I had when I woke up this morning.

  “Fuck, Addie, thank you.” I open my arms, but before I even take a step, she holds her hands out.

  “No bear hugs, Massey. You wrinkle my dress before my session in court this afternoon and you’ll be sorry.”

  I’m too happy, too hopeful for my future with Emi, to care about her blustering threats. Ignoring her squeals of protest, I wrap my friend up in the biggest hug, being careful not to actually crush her, or my other, much larger-than-her-friend will crush me into dust. Eventually, I put her down, being careful to make sure she’s steady on those spiked heels of hers before releasing her completely. She huffs and smooths her hands down the front of her dress.

  “See?” I say, unable to dim the huge smile on my face to appear the slightest bit apologetic. “You still look great.”

  Addie flicks her blond hair over her shoulder. “Of course I still look great. Too bad you look wet.”

  “Wha—”

  Using a single hand to my chest, the Honey Badger strikes, pushing me hard enough to fall off the wall. The world is swallowed up by the surface of the lake as the water crashes in around me. I pop up a second later, laughing and sputtering as I tread water. Addie’s got her shades back on, staring down at me from her position of power.

  “Told you,” she calls, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. “I gotta go. Call your girl. Love you!”

  Then she disappears from view and leaves me to climb out of this situation myself. But I guess that’s what she intended when she came to find me. Not to push me into the lake—although, again, totally an Addie thing to do—but to give me the information about Emi so that I can make things right.

  My brave girl stood up for herself. She busted out of that damn locked tower all on her own. She doesn’t need a knight to save her after all. But maybe she’d be interested in a regular Joe who sometimes likes to play the bad guy to her damsel.

  There’s only one way to find out.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Austin

  My fists pound the heavy bag in front of me in rapid combinations. Sweat drips from my hair, stinging my eyes, but I don’t stop. My muscles are on fire, my lungs burn, and still I don’t stop.

  It’s been another two weeks since Addison told me about Emi moving out. Two weeks of calling and leaving messages. Two weeks of not hearing back. Not a call. Not a text. Not a goddamn note by carrier pigeon. She froze me out, and I can’t even fucking blame her.

  Maybe I should have fought for her. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered to her that I was the one who blew the whistle on what her dad was trying to manipulate her into. Maybe she just needed me to stand by her side while she went through it all. But none of that matters, because I can’t go back and change the past any more than I can get her to pick up the phone when I call.

  I clench my teeth and growl in frustration as I land a fury of punches to the swinging bag hanging from the gym’s ceiling. Stopping it with my wrapped hands, I rest my forehead on it and try to catch my breath before I go another punishing round. I need to exhaust myself to the point where I only have the energy to shower and throw myself onto the bed or I’ll lay awake all night thinking about Emi and how badly I fucked up.

  “Want something that hits back?”

  I look over to see Roman dressed like me—sleeveless T-shirt, track pants, and tennis shoes—and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He must have come in while I was preoccupied with the bag. “Your hands aren’t wrapped.”

  He gives me one of his trademark wolfish smiles. “I wasn’t talking about me.”

  Addison sidles up next to him in a pair of spandex shorts, sports bra, and pink fingerless fighting gloves. She gives me a saucy wink and little wave. “
Hey, tiger.”

  “Addie,” I say with a nod in greeting. “You learning to fight now?”

  She shrugs a shoulder. “Just for workout purposes.”

  Roman narrows his eyes. “And knowing-how-to-take-out-assholes purposes.”

  “That too.” She taps Roman’s bicep. “He thinks every man out there is trying to put his paws on me.”

  “Baby, have you seen you?”

  “This is why I love you.”

  She stretches up to kiss him, but I look away. Normally, I find my friends’ PDA endearing—I’m sincerely happy for all four of them—but right now it’s too much like salt in my open wound. I turn and start pounding my fists into the bag again.

  A soft hand touches my back and I freeze. “Emi?” Before I can get my irrational brain under control, I spin on my heel.

  Jane offers me an apologetic smile. “Hi, honey. You know I’m here if you want to talk, right?”

  Chance comes up behind her, resting a hand on her hip as though he’s seconding the offer. Jane is a psychologist, and nothing against the profession, but this isn’t exactly the kind of problem that can be solved by lying on a couch and spilling my feelings. Still, she’s only trying to help, and I love her like I do all my friends.

  “I appreciate it, Janey, but me and the heavy bag are working things out just fine for right now.” I look at all four of the people who are dressed to work out but appear to have no interest in actually breaking a sweat. “Is this an intervention or something? I promise, I can quit the bag any time I want.”

  My joke lands flat without my usual smile and light tone, but I can’t muster up the energy to pretend nothing’s wrong. Because everything is wrong without Emi in my life.

  Chance takes point as usual. “What’s going on with you and Emi?”

  “Nothing. That’s my problem. She won’t take my calls, doesn’t return my texts.” I can feel my blood pressure rising again just thinking about it. “How can I begin to try to fix this if she won’t even hear me out?” With a growl of frustration, I hit the bag with a right cross that vibrates all the way up to my shoulder.