The song started slowly, the first notes piercing the silence of the room like raindrops falling in the night, striking without notice and falling unseen, yet leaving a mark all the same. As the lower notes came in to play, the music got darker like thunder rolling over a deep ocean while the rain continued to fall, so small in the face of all that water and yet changing it irrevocably with every drop that fell.
I lost myself in the music as the rain built into a storm in my mind, an unstoppable tempest that crashed and pounded against the ocean and the land, making itself known, bringing life and passion to a barren expanse of nothing and waking monsters from their slumber.
My hands moved faster and faster, never missing a single key because each and every one was important, necessary, the darkest, deepest notes just as crucial as the lightest, highest ones. And somehow it all just came together, the music fighting to be one just like the rain soaked into the ground and filled the ocean with stories of places it could never see for itself, but changed its outlook on everything.
The music became more complex, making my heart race and I fought to keep the pace just right as it reached the crescendo, an explosion of everything coming together, the battle for power forgotten and peace laying claim to the world as the storm blew itself out.
As I fell into the final notes, my heart ached with the sweetness of them, of how similar and yet how different they were to the notes that had started the piece. That was how I felt for her, like a man reborn, the same and yet altogether different at once. There was no more fighting for control, but a peace built of heat and flames that burned through everything and set it all alight.
As I played the final note, I sat back with an exhale and slowly lifted my gaze to meet hers.
Tatum's pink lips were parted as she stared at me, her chest rising and falling heavily as her pupils dilated and I swallowed thickly as I felt more than a little vulnerable before her. I'd just cut my heart from my chest and laid it bloody and beating at her altar. It was all I had to offer. Just a broken boy in the body of a man. I had so much baggage that sometimes the weight of it crippled me and I was never going to be easy to love. And yet that look in her eyes made me think she really did love me anyway. Despite it all. Never minding the fact that I wasn't deserving of any such thing from her. She was mine as much as I was hers.
The heat between us crackled and my limbs grew rigid as I looked at her up there on top of the piano, her long legs begging me to tear those stockings from them and bury myself between them. I held myself still through pure force of will as the idea of claiming her now overwhelmed me. I wanted her in the way a beast needed its mate. I wanted her clawing at my clothes, her nails biting into my flesh and her ass crashing down against the keys of that piano as I drove my cock inside her and made her scream my name.
And the look in her eyes said she wanted the same damn thing.
The distant ring of a house phone was the only sound to break the silence and I knew it was coming down to a battle of wills between us as we waited to find out who would break first. But my control hung poised on the tip of a knife and I knew I was about to break for her. I'd break and she'd fall with me until somehow, we found a way to rebuild ourselves in each other.
I stood suddenly just as she reached out and grasped my tie, yanking me towards her as she said my name and commanded me to come for her.
I reared over her, my cock hard and aching as I leaned forward, tasting her on the air as I gripped the top of the piano either side of her hips and prepared to claim what was mine.
The sound of footsteps barely permeated the air, but I managed to snap myself out of this spell Tatum had cast on me and I jerked away suddenly, whirling towards the door as she gasped in alarm.
My heart thundered as I realised what I'd almost just done. If anyone in this household had seen us together, they wouldn't have waited around to ask questions. Tatum was Kyan's wife and death would be an easy price for us to pay if any of them thought I had stolen what was his. Niall knowing was one thing, but Kyan had assured me he would take that secret to the grave. There was no one else so trustworthy in this family and I couldn’t risk us being discovered together a second time.
The door pushed open and I schooled my features into an emotionless mask as the housekeeper, Martha stepped into the room.
"Good evening, Mr Memphis," she said cheerfully as she held a cordless phone out for me. "You have someone calling to speak with you."
I couldn't even force my tongue to bend around the thanks I should have given her as I wordlessly took the phone from her grasp, nodding stiffly as the feel of it overwhelmed me like it was burning.
Martha bobbed her head, giving Tatum a warm smile over my shoulder then turned and headed out of the room, the door slowly closing behind her.
My throat was thick as I turned to look back at Tatum, her eyes wide where she now sat on the very edge of the piano, her legs crossed and dress straightened out with her hair hanging perfectly. I doubted the housekeeper would have suspected a thing. But that was the least of my concerns right now.
I turned the phone over in my hand as I took a step back towards the girl who had changed everything, finding the handset on hold.
I expelled a breath and placed a finger to my lips, warning Tatum to remain silent as my heart raced in my chest. Not that I was letting it show. My features were a mask once more, nothing slipping through the cracks of my defences, least of all fear.
"Father," I said curtly as I connected the call and placed it on speakerphone so that Tatum could listen in too. I knew it would be him. No one knew I was here and no one else would care to call even if they figured it out.
"Son," he replied in that clipped tone of his that told me right away I should expect the worst. "It appears you have been rather busy."
"I could say the same about you," I replied evenly.
"I have a problem which I am certain you can help me with," he said, not acknowledging my words and I fought against the flicker of unease that sent through me. I never had gotten over being ignored after those months of disregard.
"Oh?" I asked innocently, not a shred of guilt colouring my words, but he wouldn't just be calling unless he was certain I knew what he wanted.
"Recently, some masked assailants broke into an exclusive club which I run and they stole from me. They took countless assets, ransacked my office then set the place ablaze," he said and my heart leapt at the barest hint of rage to his tone. He was about as close to losing his shit as I think I'd ever heard him to be and knowing that me and my family were responsible for rocking the foundations of his hardwired asshole behaviour like that made me want to smirk in triumph. But I knew he wouldn't be calling to let me know I'd won anything, so I held off on any premature celebrations.
"I didn't know you ran an exclusive club," I commented lightly, like the rest of his words meant nothing to me.
"You can drop the mask now, son. Or should I say Rex? Because I have just seen a rather confusing photocopy of a passport which seems to imply that you and your friends have taken on new identities. Unless you wish to try and claim there are four doppelgängers roaming around Sequoia with the vaccination to the Hades Virus pumping through their veins?"
Tatum sucked in a gasp, pressing a hand to her mouth and I lifted my gaze to hers, trying to convey an apology to her without words. Because I should have known that this would happen. The apple may not have fallen far from the tree with me and my father, but he'd had many more years to establish his roots. And I was pretty certain that he was about to prove to me that his foundations were solid despite all of my plans.
"Is she there now?" he asked conversationally. "Her lips wrapped tight around your cock in thanks for you saving her from my lab?"
I faltered at his crass words, my gaze on Tatum as the urge to grab her and run as far and as fast from here as possible almost overwhelmed me. He knew. Not just about us rescuing her, but he knew why. He'd always been able to see to the heart of things and despi
te how often he'd drummed into me the fact that I should never need nor want anyone in my life beyond myself, he had realised what she was to me. And that made him more dangerous than ever before.
"Not presently," I replied calmly though inside I felt anything but. "She's rather exhausted at the moment from me fucking her on my piano."
My father tutted at the mention of the instrument and I knew that if he could, he'd destroy every piano in existence just to stop me from wasting my time on something he saw as so pointless.
"Here's where we stand, son," he said firmly. "You will return all of the shares you have bought up in my companies to me. You will relinquish control of all of the assets you have stolen and sign it all back over to me." The faintest touch of inflection to his voice let me know how fucking angry he was to have realised that I'd done all of that. Me. His beat down little heir who was supposed to toe the line and wait for my time to rise in his shadow had set him up to fall from grace and he hadn't even seen it coming until it was too damn late.
"Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to do that," I replied slowly, soaking in the feeling of my victory over him. "You see, I did what you taught me. I set my enemy in my sights and got all of my ducks in a row. I did my research, I played him at his own game, and I walked him right into my trap. Now all I need to do is pull the trigger. So why would I lay down my weapon at the final moment?"
"I will admit I was rather impressed," he replied slowly and the cocky edge to his voice set my hackles rising. I doubted anyone else in the world would even notice it, but I did. And it meant danger was coming. He had some plan beyond his words, and I was the one walking into it. "You've outdone yourself with this. You were thorough, subtle, methodical and really quite brilliant."
"But?" I prompted, ignoring the prickle of pride that tried to work its way down my spine. Why was it that despite my hatred for this man, despite my desire to see him destroyed and broken and dead at my feet, a small part of me still hungered for his approval? All he had ever afforded me was fear, suffering and contempt. But there it was, deep inside of me a forgotten boy who just craved his father's love and affection. I stamped those feelings back down hard though, refusing to give in to them. This man had no love in his heart for me or anything aside from money and power. It was just the way he was and no good would ever come from me lamenting the loss of a man he'd never been.
"But," he agreed coolly. "You had to go and fall for the trap of love, didn't you?" he said, his voice thick with disappointment.
I glanced up at Tatum and she reached out to take my free hand, the very real feeling of her fingers in mine confirming to me that he didn't have her and making my brows pinch, because if he wasn't referring to her, then who-
"The O'Brien heir I can understand," Father said thoughtfully. "To some degree at least. He has power, connections, and they are a breed of brutality which would hold a certain appeal to your baser nature. A red-blooded man such as yourself needs a little violence in his life. And the girl...well, I never did allow a tight pussy to corrupt my mind and blind me from my interests, but it’s well-known that a lot of men are easily beguiled by such things. I had expected better from you, but you're young, no doubt she's eager and fucks well enough to distract you from-"
"You won't speak about her like that," I snarled, a very real warning in my voice. "I won't warn you again, old man. But if you talk about her like she's some disposable whore one more time, I'll come for you with the full force of all that I am and I won't stop until you're nothing but a corpse crushed beneath my heel."
Silence followed my outburst and I knew I should have held my tongue, but I didn’t see the point in that. He knew. He knew all too fucking well. She had my heart, and my life was in her hands. He'd already figured out that she was my weakness, so he may as well realise she was my strength too.
"The footballer is in bad taste," he said after a beat. "New money. No connections beyond the flashy world of sports and media - I will admit I encouraged you to make an ally of him for those very reasons, but such people are disposable, interchangeable and have no long-term use. Besides, it doesn't even look like the boy will go pro, so I fail to see the appeal. Still, I suppose he has been in your life a long time and you always did show a weakness for sentiment. But then there's the teacher," he said slowly, like he was waiting to see if I might elaborate on that for him but I stayed silent, so he went on. "Nash Monroe...or is it Jase Harrington?"
Tatum's grip on my fingers tightened painfully as my father revealed his knowledge of my brother, but I wasn't even surprised. Once he saw those passports we'd used in the camp, he would have seen that Nash was still keeping company with me. Of course he took a closer look at the working man who had somehow slipped into our ranks, and once he'd started digging it wouldn't have been at all hard for him to uncover the truth of his identity. It wasn't like Nash had been able to pay for the kinds of forgeries that I could, and a change of name was a pretty simple blockade to bypass.
"Of course, you already knew that," Father went on, barely pausing long enough for me to confirm or deny it and taking my silence as his answer. "I will admit, even when his true name was presented to me, I didn't remember him. But my people pulled up all the information I required to jog my memory of his halfwit mother pulling her car out in front of me all those years ago and sealing her family's fate. Honestly, son, I would have expected you to keep a higher class of-"
"She didn't just pull out in front of you, you fucking sicko," Tatum snarled, losing her cool at his casual dismissal of Nash's entire world. "You were drunk, and you killed them! You covered up your own fucking failure with money and lies and one day soon, we're going to hunt you down and put a fucking knife in your throat for it."
"Really, Saint," Father replied, a sneer in his tone. "You should put your woman in her place before she continues to embarrass herself and you-"
"Tatum is in her place," I growled. "And that's firmly at my side. She has a mind of her own and will speak it if she chooses. Get to the point of your tirade before I grow tired of it and end this call."
"Fine. Although you have played a very good hand indeed, and I will admit that I would have been hard pressed to resolve the issues you have caused me with my finances and companies in any other situation, I find myself with the trump card up my sleeve. Despite my best efforts, you have chosen to show weakness in aligning yourself with these people and giving in to the illusion of love. So, let's find out how firmly you hold to the notion. I have in my possession the father of your dear Mr Bowman. I would have liked to claim more prizes than that but unfortunately, it seems that the teacher and the girl are all alone in the world and the O’Briens are a nest of snakes I've chosen not to tangle with at this time. But though I believe this threat should mean nothing to you, I want to see how deeply you have fallen into the trap of love. If you wish to see your friend's father again you will return all of my assets to me within the next week."
Silence fell as he let that sink in and my heart raced as I thought about what Blake would say when he found out. I didn't doubt the truth of this threat. My father didn't do things by halves. If he said he had Blake's dad then I was certain he did.
A clock chimed loudly in the background on his end of the line and I sucked in a breath as I listened to the familiar sound.
"And then what?" I asked, because clearly returning his assets to him wouldn't be enough.
"And then we'll talk again. Let's find out who's the better Memphis. Game on, son." He cut the call and for a moment I just stared at the phone as the weight of his words sank in.
Tatum's arms closed around my neck as she threw herself against me and I wound her into my embrace as I pulled her close. My heart was pounding, mind racing and that cold, clinical feeling was sliding through my veins as I detached myself from the world around me to focus on dealing with this. But the warmth of her body against mine was still welcome. And I drew comfort from it as I held her tightly.
"We need to tell the o
thers," she said, untangling herself from me and grabbing my hand as she tugged me from the room.
I followed along mechanically, allowing her to guide me and set the pace as idea after idea ticked through my skull.
We made it back to the huge room that Kyan owned here and found the three of them inside, the Xbox on as they played their asinine games, laughing and joking while swigging on bottles of beer.
But as they turned to look at us, their faces fell and Tatum burst into tears as she released her hold on me and threw herself into Blake's arms.
I closed the door behind me then turned away from them, leaving her to explain as my mind ran over each and every word he'd spoken to me.
I slipped my tie loose and hung it from the back of a chair before dropping my blazer on top of it and heading into the en-suite. I quickly shed the rest of my clothes, my chest tight with barely suppressed panic as my mind just went around and around in circles and tried to find some loophole here.
I turned the shower on, just to give me an excuse to avoid the others and be alone with my thoughts for a while. Because this was on me. My love for them had brought this down on their heads. My father was the one who was causing all of this. Anything that happened to them or the people they cared about at his hands came back down on me. Because I was the one who should have stopped him. I was the one who should have protected them from him. And now I was failing if I couldn't see a way out of it. I’d drown in this feeling of incompetence if I didn't figure out how to make it right.
I stepped beneath the water, barely even noticing that it was cold and not caring enough to change the temperature. I placed my palms against the tiles and let the water crash down on the back of my head so it spilled through my dark curls and washed over my feet, hoping it might give me some clarity.
Queen of Quarantine Page 42