by Kira Blakely
Thick arms wrap around Joey’s waist and his pressure is lifted, my hand is ripped free of his throat. A strong-armed motherfucker in a black T-shirt appears over me and yanks me to my feet. He twists my arm behind my back, and I cast a glance in his direction.
“You’d better let me go,” I say, calmly.
“Strict orders from the top, sir,” the guy says, just as serenely. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of tinted sunglasses. “You’re disturbing the peace. You signed a disclaimer at the beginning of your time with Mystique Island. You have one warning only before you’re asked to leave forever. Consider this your warning. The same goes for your brother over there.”
Joey isn’t struggling. He stands beside his bouncer, dabbing at the blood beneath his nose, a shit-eating grin distorting his lips. He doesn’t look at me, just stares with a look of mania into the sky.
I’ve seen that look before. It’s the one that’s almost seen him dead. It’s the one that scared me enough to pull us both out of the “family” before it was too late.
Danielle hovers in the space between us, looking first at me, then at him and back again. She’s clothed in her robe again, and her cheeks are pale. We’ve upset her. This whole weekend has fucked with her head, and it’s all Joey’s fault.
“It’s time for you to return to your villa, sir,” the bouncer says and clamps a hand down on my forearm.
I shake him off. “I can walk on my own.”
“As you wish.”
I walk off across the sand but pause a few feet from Danielle. Joey stiffens, switching his maniacal gaze from the clouds to us.
“All of this,” I say, watching her closely, taking in the line of her nose, the smooth slopes of her cheekbones. “All of this is because of you, Danielle. Because I love you.”
She gasps but doesn’t reply.
It’s the first time I’ve told her the truth.
It’s been hiding out of sight for the past three weeks. I love her. I love everything about her. It’s too late to turn back now.
Chapter 19
Danielle
He loves me.
Holden loves me.
What the hell am I supposed to do with that information?
I pace back and forth in the kitchen—being in the living room brings back way too many memories—the gentle hum of the chromed-out refrigerator providing a backdrop to the mental noise pollution.
There’s so much going on in my head I can’t latch on to a solid thought and run with it.
Joey’s genuine intrigue. His hot desire for me. Claiming me.
Holden cold but in love. Commanding me. Making me choose.
I don’t want to have to make this decision, and it’s hardly a conventional one. It’s not like I can call up Dr. Phil and ask him how to choose between twin brothers. He’s probably heard worse, to be honest. Or maybe exactly the same, and that’s what’s truly disconcerting.
Regardless, I need someone to talk to.
“What would you do, Momma?” I lean against the granite countertops in the kitchen. I look up at the ceiling and count the downlights spotted within it. “What would you do if you were in this messed-up situation?”
Of all the people I’d love to talk to about this, she’s the first. My mother wouldn’t judge me.
I pick through my sisters, the ones who’ll be in awe, the ones who’ll gasp in shock and likely gossip about it, and land on the one sister, the only one, who’s likely not to judge because she was a wild child in her youth.
Evaline.
We don’t speak much.
After Momma’s passing, we lost touch. She’s the oldest, there’s the distance between New York and Ontario, and… well, those are excuses. Evaline was always a loner and a bit of a bitch.
But she’s my bitch.
She’s the sister who helped me sneak in drunk, where the others would’ve promptly outed me to Dad. In fact, Evaline is the one who took me to my first club at twenty-one. She gave me advice on when to dump my ex-boyfriend and encouraged me to leave my hometown years ago.
Can I really speak to her about this?
She’s probably asleep right now, but I can’t wait.
It’s talk to her or chase my own tail for the next however many hours until Joey and Holden come back and demand an answer once and for all.
I won’t work this through on my own. It’s too complicated.
“Just do it.”
I fetch my cell from the bedroom, then bring it back to the kitchen where a phone is attached to the wall. There’s a list of emergency numbers beside it and a little booklet of information provided by Mystique.
I rifle through it and nod—calls to cellphones are permitted—then unlock the screen of my cell and swipe through to my contacts and find Eva’s number. I lift the receiver off the wall and dial the number.
The phone’s wireless, thank god. I’ll have the opportunity to stride around the inside of this villa while we talk this through.
I press the phone to my ear and listen to the ringing.
One, two, three rings.
“Come on, pick up. Please, Eva.”
Finally, a click. “Hello?” my sister croaks. “Who the fuck are you, and do you want to die tonight?”
“Eva, it’s me,” I say, butterflies thwacking into the sides of my belly.
“Wait, what?” She draws the last one out. Shuffling ensues on the other end of the line, followed by the click of a lamp. “Is that you, Dani?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Sorry for calling you so late. And, uh, for not calling you for months.”
“OK.” She yawns. “What’s eating your ass?”
“Huh?”
“Well, you haven’t called me in months and now, you’re calling me in the middle of the night to apologize for it? I don’t buy it. What do you need? I’m not smuggling another felon out of the country. Canada deserves better.”
I blink and process that. “A felon? What?”
“Not important,” Eva says, with another ear-splitting yawn.
It sets me off into one of my own. I swallow after and blink tears. “I’m calling because I have a problem.”
“As I thought. Now, what’s the problem? Have you been caught smuggling illegal goods across the border?”
“No, and I’m kinda alarmed that you’re leading with these questions,” I reply.
She snorts a laugh over the phone, and more shuffling ensues, followed by the snap-hiss of a match as she lights a cigarette. She inhales deeply. “Better. I’m sort of awake, now. Sort of. What’s the problem?”
“Man trouble,” I say. Which is the lightest possible way of phrasing this. “Double man trouble.”
“Oh, boy, it’s a doozey. This should be good.” Eva sucks on her cigarette and exhales. “Maybe this is worth being woken up for after all.”
“I—well, it’s complicated. I’m in love with my boss, Holden, and I—oh, god, OK. This is going to be pretty damn difficult to explain.”
“Just start at the beginning,” Eva says. It bodes well that she’s not shocked about me being in love with my boss.
So, I tell her everything. Except for the pornographic bits, since that’d be pushing it. I tell her about Holden and how I followed him here, about Joey and how he tricked me but then showed me his softer genuine side, and about how that subterfuge didn’t even bother me and how weird it is.
“They’ve given me a choice,” I say. “Well, technically, Holden’s given me the choice. It’s either him or nothing, which I’m pretty sure Joey wouldn’t agree with. They had a fight outside my villa. I—just don’t know what the hell to do, Eva. This is too much for me to handle.”
Eva exhales. “Well, shit.” It’s the first thing she’s said since I started talking. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Any other wells you’d like to mention?”
“A well of emotion?” Eva suggests. “Or how about a well of scandal.”
“Help me, please,” I say, a hint of plea in my tone. I tr
ead across the tiles in the kitchen and fiddle with the fridge’s chrome door bar.
“I can’t really help you, girl. This is a decision you need to make for yourself. But it looks to me like you’ve got a lot of options. What I’d like to know is how you feel about them. How do you feel about Holden?”
“He’s… special. He’s a good man. He looks after his daughter and puts her first. He cares about people, even if he tries to hide it, and he’s protective. He says he loves me.” I bite my lip. And I love him, too. I’ve been infatuated with him for weeks, living in close quarters.
Once, we even ran into each other in the middle of the night, passing in the hall that leads to the bathroom.
“And Joey? He sounds like the weak link.”
“I don’t know about that,” I reply and open the fridge, peering inside at the newly replaced fruits and vegetables. “He’s so warm. He’s the opposite of Holden. He seems to really care, and he shows it. He’s so commanding and overwhelming. He talks to me about stuff whenever he can. I care about him, too.”
“So, they’re opposites, and you dig them both. Great, that makes this easier.” Eva sniffs. “So, the way I say it is it’s either Holden or Joey, or you leave.”
“Leaving is probably for the best,” I reply, firmly. It makes sense, now. Eva’s brisk tone has shaken the emotion out of me. “I don’t want to come between them.”
“Or the secret, bonus fourth option,” Eva says.
“And what’s that?” I ask.
“You take them both.”
“What? I don’t think that’s even an option. I mean, how would that work?” I shake my head.
“Look, it’s not like you’ll end up marrying either of these guys. Joey’s the fun, free dude and Holden’s got his own issues. He said he won’t be ready for a long time. So, have them both, and live a free happy life. Maybe, one day, you’ll be better equipped to make the decision between the two of them. Maybe the feelings for one will drop off and the other will grow stronger. Why not have some fun with it first?”
“Holden said—”
“I know, girl, but what a man says and what he does are often two entirely different things. If you’re at all interested in that fourth option, you should at least tell them how you feel,” Eva says. “Trust me on this one.”
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut. “Thanks, Eva. I think I know what I have to do.”
“All right, sis. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” she replies.
“You mean like hiding fugitives or stripping?”
“Hey! That was one time!” Eva’s laughter rings down the line. “Now, can I go back to sleep?”
“Yes.”
“All right, honey boo, let me know what you decide.”
“I will if you never call me that again,” I reply, then kiss-kiss into the phone’s receiver and hang up.
She’s cleared a lot up for me. I do know what I have to do.
No matter what I feel for Holden or for Joey, the truth is clear. I have to leave.
For good.
Chapter 20
Joey
I knock on Dani’s front door and wait, my hands tucked behind my back, the pressure building in my chest. The sun has risen, I haven’t seen Holden since he cracked me on the nose this morning, and the crazy-anger that pulsed through me this morning has finally dissipated.
I’m OK.
I’m not going to break my brother’s back for what he did. I’m not going to overreact.
But I will find Dani and make her mine and mine alone.
If she’s got a choice, she’ll choose me. Simple as hell.
The clouds from last night have already lifted, and another beautiful blue day has dawned in the Caribbean. Mystique Island is alive with events. Beautiful masked women hop around naked in the sand nearby, playing volleyball, their tits bouncing—all different shapes and sizes.
A couple days ago, I would’ve been in their midst, sucking breasts and getting sucked off by more than one woman at a time.
Now, nothing appeals to me less.
I knock again. “Dani,” I call out. “It’s Joey. Open up.”
No answer. She’s not home, or she’s ignoring me.
Footsteps thump up the path behind me, and I turn, finding a dude without his mask. He’s one of the cleaners here, judging by the keys attached to his belt and the supplies he carts in a basket in one hand.
He stops and frowns at me. “Sir?”
I adjust my mask—I can’t afford to break any more rules or I won’t see Dani again—and nod to him. “You guys only come to the villa when the resident has left, right?”
“That’s correct, sir.”
“Which means Dani isn’t here,” I mutter, more to myself than to him.
“Yes, sir. She left not ten minutes ago. I believe she’s in the main reception area, talking with Mistress Prunella about leaving the island.”
“Mistress Prunella?” I blink. What the fuck kind of name is that?
“Yes, sir. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to clean her villa before she returns.”
I nod and step out of her path. Obviously, the cleaner dude has no reason to hide her whereabouts from me. I’m a guest of the island. A billionaire guest, and this is a safe place. If Dani didn’t want to be found, she would have told them as much.
I take two steps down the path, then halt and turn back. “Yo, dude.”
The cleaner guy stops, his brown doe eyes wide. He’s pale, with freckles, probably in his twenties. This has to be a dream job for him. Good pay and an eyeful of pussy wherever he goes. “Yes, sir?”
“Pay extra attention to the sofa cushions.” I walk off down the path and make my way toward the boardwalk that trails between the island-style buildings. There are thatched roofs and tiled ones, pale white walls, a central garden that features native flowers and trees. Birds flit between branches and people sit on benches there, some of them with their dicks wet, others with their faces dripping cum.
Island paradise. That’s what this is for most people.
Not for me, at the moment.
You started this. You should’ve left her alone on the beach.
Nah, I shouldn’t have.
She was mine from the start. I just didn’t know it until I laid eyes on her.
I walk past the main banquet hall, empty now, and head down the walkway that leads to the reception area. It’s a building removed from the rest of the resort, near a grouping of palm trees that lead back into a thicker forest.
There’s a long span of boardwalk between here and there, bordered by white sand, pebbles, emptiness on my right, and water on my left. My bare feet thunk on the boards, and I quicken my pace.
Why is she at reception talking to Miss Prune or whatever the fuck her name is?
No one on this island bothers with reception.
I reach the small building and open the glass front door, stepping inside.
“You’ll have to sign a disclaimer that states you’re leaving early, dear,” the bespectacled woman behind the desk says. “It’s general policy that early-leavers don’t get a second invite to the island.”
Dani’s back is to me. She’s dressed in a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a fitted camisole, her long dark hair tossed over one shoulder.
Christ, she’s perfect from behind.
“That’s fine,” she says. “I won’t be coming back.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, dear,” the woman says. She’s totally unsuited to the island—older, probably a prude. Maybe that’s why they’ve got her hidden in reception on this side of Mystique. “Usually, the women who attend Mystique’s events have a fabulous time.”
“It’s not the island,” Dani breathes. “It’s lovely here. It’s just that some personal complications have arisen—”
The receptionist nods, her eyes made small by the lenses of her glasses. She looks past Dani and spots me, then arches an eyebrow. “May I help you, sir? Goodness, it’s never this busy in recep
tion. Would you like some coffee while you wait until I’m finished with this lady’s query?”
This is surreal. It’s as if I’ve stepped off Mystique and into a dentist’s office.
“Dani, what are you doing?” I ask.
She spins around and that cursed fucking mask hides her features from me. Her perfection.
“Joey?” She swallows. “Hi.”
“What are you doing?”
“The only thing I can do,” she replies. “I’m leaving.”
I cross the sparkling tiles in two long strides then sweep her into my arms, holding her close.
She lets her arms hang limp, but she reacts to me regardless. Her lips part, and a tiny sigh escapes.
This woman needs me. She craves me as much as I crave her. “You can’t leave.”
“I have to,” she says and shakes her head, placing a palm to my chest. She pushes away from me, and I let her go, though I fucking hate it. “It’s not right. None of what’s happened is right. Last night, Holden—”
“Is this about the fight?” I can’t promise I’d take it back, given the chance. No, I’d probably break my brother’s nose.
“It’s about everything. This can’t happen. It’s not healthy for any of us. Your relationship with your brother is more important than—” Dani stiffens and looks over her shoulder at the receptionist, who’s clearly way too curious about this conversation.
Miss Pruney jumps and busies herself with papers on her desk.
“Let’s talk outside.” I take her hand.
“I’ll be back shortly, Mistress Prunella.” Dani squares her shoulders—one of the straps of her camisole slips down her arm, and she fixes it, absently. “Please prepare those documents for me.”
“Of course, dear,” the woman says and looks up as if she hasn’t heard a word of our talk.
I lead Dani out onto the boardwalk, and we stand under the sun, looking out on the turquoise ocean. Someone’s got a boat out there, and they’re tearing it up. People shriek and laugh, others glide by on water skis.
The sun bakes my forehead and sweat trickles down my temples. I squeeze Dani’s fingers. “You’re not leaving.”
“Don’t you understand, Joey? Holden gave me a choice. It’s him or nothing. And I bet you’ll tell me it’s you or nothing.”