by Breena Wilde
Twisted Lines (Blurred Lines Vol. 6)
Copyright © 2013 Breena Wilde
Breena Wilde Books
Digital Edition
This book in its entirety is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard word of this author.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the author, Breena Wilde, P.O. Box 1408 Bountiful, UT 84011.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by: Steven Novak
Interior design by: Novel Ninjutsu
Edited by: Clean Leaf Editing
This volume is dedicated to everyone who’s ever lost someone they love and to those who know that they’ll never really leave us. They’re forever in our hearts.
One John disappeared, shattering her already fragile heart. The other wants to pick up the pieces.
Will Cadence be able to find happiness, or is it back to hooking full time?
I watch her suffer from a distance. I can see the uncertainty on her face, the fear and sadness combined with a hint of anger. She’s pissed at me and I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips.
Cadence is an amazing woman.
I have no doubt she’ll be fine, but I can’t bring myself to leave her, knowing her brother is dead and she has no one to turn to for comfort. Well, except John fucking Cruze. But he won’t understand what’s really going on. If I’ve learned one thing about Cadence, it's that she won’t burden others with her problems. She’s tough.
“We should go,” Lincoln says, walking up behind me.
“I know. I’m just…” I trail off. Weakness isn’t a trait I can show, even to my most trusted friend. Not in my line of work. “I want to make sure she’s okay,” I say harshly, demanding he leave it at that. “I’ll leave when I’m damned good and ready.”
“Yes, Mr. Zane.”
The worst part is that the police took everything but my letter and the phone, so she doesn’t even have the means to bury her brother. That knowledge tears at my heart. I can make a call to the institution where he died and ask them to hold him until the check is cleared. Or better yet…
I pull out my phone and dial the chief of police. “Chief Graham,” I say when he answers.
“Now isn’t a good time to be calling. You know that.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
I hear him take a deep breath. “What do you want?”
“Your officers have just been to my house. They took a bunch of papers and a check I left for Cadence Norton into custody as evidence. I want that stuff released within forty-eight hours. No more.”
“Look, Mr. Zane. That’s imposs—”
“You want to know what’ll be impossible? You keeping your job after I’ve released evidence that points to our working together, photos of you killing an undercover police officer, and a tape of you fucking one of your officer's wives.”
“Fine. Forty-eight hours.” He hangs up and I smile. Lincoln chuckles.
“That tape should be on National Geographic, the sounds he makes.”
I laugh harder. “I know, right?”
There’s movement near the front of my house and I turn. Rita is walking through the front door.
Cadence will be fine. “Let’s go, Lincoln.”
After I give a minimal explanation to Cruze over the phone, he tells me he’s going to come and get me. I sit on the stairs and wait. Thick sadness pushes at my heart.
My brother. Travis. It’s weird that I’m sad, but in a way relieved, too. He isn’t in any more pain. Hopefully he’s gone somewhere good and can be happy.
Heaven?
Is it a place or just a made up word to make the mourners feel better? I hope it’s real and beautiful and that my brother is there having an amazing time.
And then Zane. What the fuck? He leaves just as I start to believe my feelings for him might be growing into something other than hate. I grab my hair and pull.
God, I miss him. Already. More than I thought I would. Probably more than I should. But my body aches for his touch and longs for his kisses.
And I suddenly don’t want to leave. This is Zane’s home, his secret place. He shared it with me. He left me money, this house, his business… everything. I can’t help but wonder why—where he is, what’s happened to him. “What the fuck did you do?” I put my face in my hands.
According to the police I’m not allowed to stay in Zane’s house until they say so. I told them about Rita, that I wasn’t sure what her relationship to Zane was. They asked for a way to contact her. I told them I didn’t know, but I guessed she’d come here. They told me to have her call them.
Even as I’m thinking about her, she walks in the door. When she sees me she closes the door and locks it behind her.
“What is it?”
I hand her the letter. “Zane,” I whisper.
Her eyes scan the page and her features harden. When she’s done she hands the letter back. I refold it.
“That boy.” Rita shakes her head and walks into the kitchen. She opens the pantry and takes an apron off a knob hanging on the door.
I follow her into the kitchen. “The police have been here. They want you to call them.” I set the business card on the counter. “They want to ask you some questions.”
She pierces me with her stare, pulls the apron on and ties it around her waist. It’s light pink, ruffled, and covered in daisies. She looks sweet. “Well of course they do. But I have nothing to say. If they want to talk to me they’ll have to make an effort.” She opens the refrigerator and pulls out eggs. “Would you like an omelet, Cadence?”
I shake my head and quickly reply. “No. I can’t eat. Someone is coming to pick me up. The police say I’m not allowed to stay here.”
Rita clucks her tongue. “That’s ridiculous. Where will you go?” I’m curious if she’s glad I’m going, if she’s upset Zane left me so much.
“I-I’m not sure.” My eyes start to water but I blink back the tears. No fucking way I’m crying in front of her.
She gives me another of her looks and I can’t help but think she must be related to Zane. I have to ask. “Are you Zane’s mother?”
I notice a tint of color stain her cheeks before she turns away. The stove clicks as she turns on a unit. “I might as well be. I raised the boy from the time he was born.” She cracks two eggs and whips them in a bowl before pouring them into the heated pan. “Would you mind getting the cheese?”
I come around the island and open the refrigerator. There’s shredded cheddar on one of the shelves and I pull it out. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Cadence.” She sets it on the counter, then uses a spatula on the egg, pushing it to the middle so more can run toward the edges of the pan.
“So you were his nanny?” I cross my arms and lean against the counter.
Rita glances over. “Yes, I suppose. His mother was my sister.” She turns her attention back to the egg. “My sister didn't know how to take care of a child. She was too worried about John’s father, his needs, his wants to worry
about a baby.” There’s sadness in her voice.
“Oh,” is all I can say.
“Don’t get me wrong. His mother loved him the only way she knew how: by giving him to me.”
I understand uncaring mothers. “What did Zane’s dad do?”
Rita sprinkles seasonings and cheese onto the egg, folds it in half, and slides it onto a plate. Then she sets it on the island. “Eat.”
I sit on a stool and pull the omelet toward me. Rita hands me a fork. “Thank you.” I cut off a piece and stuff it into my mouth. It’s fucking hot, but delicious. She pours me a glass of orange juice. After I drink, I look at her, wondering if she remembers my question. She busies herself, cleaning up.
I know Cruze will be here any minute. “Rita?” I say tentatively.
“His father is still around.”
I take another bite, waiting for more explanations. She doesn’t give me any. There’s a knock at the door. It’s Cruze, I’m sure. There’s a lurch in my throat at the idea of seeing him, of being with him without needing to worry about Zane, but I can’t make my ass move from the chair.
Rita looks at me. “Isn’t that your ride?”
I gulp. “Probably.”
“Go, dear. This house, everything John said in the letter, it’ll be around when you're ready to deal with it.”
“Okay.” I stand. “Rita?” I pause, and she touches my arm.
“One thing I know. John is gone, but not forever.”
I’m still reeling from her phone call. Cadence. After what we did during filming I figured we were over before we started. I was a prick, just walking away. Fuck, I wanted her. I still do. She makes me feel alive, real, like I’m not just some puppet in a show.
Now I might have another chance. Cadence said Zane was gone. I’m not sure what that means exactly: that she’s done with him or that he dropped her. Neither option would surprise me.
I just want a shot. Another shot. Fuck, I’m a prick. A mother fucking— My cell rings. It’s my manager, Denise. If I don’t answer she’ll keep calling and texting until I do.
“What is it, Denise?” I ask, irritated. “I’m driving, so make it quick.”
“Zane is out.”
I slam on the brakes, causing the car behind me to knock and skid. I swerve off the highway and put my Porsche into park. “What the fuck do you mean?”
“He’s gone. Like, he’s disappeared and no one has any idea what happened. The production company is still backing the film, but no one is sure who’s running it. Nigel and Scarlett are thinking of walking off the project.”
“Can they? We all signed a contract.” I run a hand over my face. Check my reflection in the mirror. I’m sure Cadence has the answers.
“Tell them to hang on. I might know something in a while.”
“Really?” Denise asks. She sounds doubtful. “You and Mr. Zane aren’t exactly close. In fact, the last I heard he was saying things that’ll put you out of the game for good.”
“He’s a lot of talk,” I say and try to sound confident. I know better than anyone that he can do what he threatens. “You start digging. Do the shit you're good at, and if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Fine, John. Just,” she sighs, and I know I’ve been a pain in the ass lately. More so than usual. “Don’t do anything stupid, 'kay?”
I chuckle. “I’ll try.” I hang up before she can yell.
Checking out the window, I press the gas and pull into traffic.
When I pull up to the address Cadence gave me, I’m shocked. The house is amazing—grand, but not as bad as I thought it would be. Zane always seemed like such a pretentious ass, I’d expected more.
I turn off the car, walk up to the door, and knock.
And wait.
When the door finally opens, I’m edgy. Nervous, like I’d been on my first date when I was twelve. As soon as I see her face, that emotion is replaced by happiness and a little worry.
“Hey,” I say. “You ready?”
Cadence seems a little lost. “Yeah.” She steps out and then stops. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”
She runs into the house. I lean against the railing, wishing I had a cigarette. I know they’re bad, but when I’m stressed there’s nothing better. That first drag… I love it.
Cadence comes back, closing the door behind her. She’s got a big bag slung over a shoulder.
I stand. “I can take that,” I say.
She clings to it like it’s her life preserver. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Sure.” I walk over to the car and open the door. “You wanna put the bag back here?”
She looks at me. Her eyes are crunched, like she’s trying not to cry. I try not to be pissed because it looks like she’s really sad the son of a bitch is gone. What the fuck? Does she regret the time we spent together? Maybe she’s still pissed. I don’t know, but I’m going to do all I can to make it up to her, to really get to know her.
“I’ll hold on to it,” she says, sliding into the seat.
I shut the door and take a deep breath.
We drive in silence until we’re on the highway. “Where to?” I finally ask.
She doesn’t answer.
“Cadence.”
“Ummmm.” She sniffles.
“Want to go back to the hotel?”
She wipes her eyes. Fuck. “What did that mother fucker do to you?”
“Nothing,” she whispers.
“Please don’t be mad, but I’m going to take you back to my room.”
She leans her head against the head rest. “Thanks, Cruze.”
“Of course.” She closes her eyes and I focus on the road ahead. When we get up to the room she sets down the big duffle.
“Mind if I take a shower?”
“Not at all.” I walk into the bathroom and turn on the water. She’s standing in the doorway. Her shoulders are slumped. Her eyes are down. I move to her and touch her cheek. She raises her head.
“I’m really grateful you came and got me. I-It means a lot.” She crosses her arms.
“Cadence,” I say and lean down, pressing my lips to hers. She doesn’t move. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her against me. “I want to make you feel good.”
She opens to me like a rose. Her lips part and her tongue meets mine. I quickly peel off her clothes, my lips never leaving hers. God, she’s so fucking amazing. Her lips, her tongue, the curve of her waist. I take one of her nipples and roll it between my thumb and finger. She tips her head back and moans. I kiss along her jaw, make my way down her neck to her breasts.
When I take the other breast in my mouth, her hands find my hair. “John. Cruze,” she pants.
I pause and look up. Her eyes are hungry. I strip and pull her by the hand into the shower. Then I proceed to wash her hair and her body, taking extra time on her pussy. She feels amazing and I know she’s enjoying it. Mainly I want to wash every last fucking place John Zane could’ve touched. I want him gone, because Cadence is mine now. I slide a finger inside her pussy. She’s so fucking wet and my cock is instantly hard. I want inside her. I want to fuck her deep and make her cry out. I want to claim every last inch of her. I want to make her feel so good that the look she’s been wearing for the asshole John Zane will be forever gone.
“Protection,” she says, and I remember her rule. Even though we didn’t use protection when we fucked during filming. I still want to honor her rules.
“Be right back.” I kiss her on the mouth quickly and go to the nightstand where I keep my condoms. It’s fucking freezing outside the shower and I hurry back.
When I step in she wraps a hand around my cock, kneels, and puts the condom on, then wraps her warm mouth around the tip. I throw my head back in pleasure. It’s crazy because I’ve had plenty of blowjobs, but Cadence? God, she has a mouth like magic.
She takes me deep in her mouth so my cock is touching the back of her throat. “Fuck.” I grab hold of her wet hair and pull it away from her face so I can watch. She
moves a hand around my shaft along with her mouth. “Cadence.” I move my hand with her as she slides up and down until I’m close to coming.
Finally I pull her off. There are so many things I want to do to her body, but I need to be inside her now. I lift her, she wraps her legs around my hips, and I press her back against the shower wall. When I slide my cock in we both moan. I cover her mouth with mine, desperate to feel everything she’s feeling, to be everything she needs all at once. She bites my lower lip and I shove my cock deeper inside her wet pussy.
“Fuck me, Cruze. Fuck me hard,” she growls against my lips. I comply, grabbing her ass. She rocks against me. Her eyes are closed and I wish she’d open them, let me see.
She seems to sense my eyes on her and opens them. “Make me come,” she says.
I drive in deeper, over and over again, our bodies slapping against each other. I feel her body tense as does mine. “Come for me, Cade.”
Her nails rake against my back. “I’m coming,” she pants.
I feel her orgasm against my cock and the feeling causes me to come.
We stay together a while, breathing heavily. Finally I kiss her chin and lift her off me.
“Cadence?” I say, searching her face. It’s important to me what she thinks, what she feels. A part of me wishes it wasn’t true, but I can’t help it. I have real feelings for her.
In answer, she leans her face against my chest and wraps her arms around me.
I hold her, satisfied with what she has to offer. For now. But I’m going to need answers.
After the shower and the incredible fuck, John helps me out of the shower.
“Are you hungry?” he asks softly.
I need to snap out of this funk. My brother chose to fuck up his life with drugs. There wasn’t a damn thing I could’ve done to help him. I know that. But knowing doesn’t change the way my heart feels. Knowing doesn’t take away the guilt, the sadness, the what-could’ve-been. My brother is gone. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him. But fuck if I don’t feel like a total bitch for not being there, for not somehow stopping him from slowly killing himself.