Breaker's Point Bad Boy Billionaires Boxset

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Breaker's Point Bad Boy Billionaires Boxset Page 22

by Morgan, M. G.


  He hadn’t said a word to her for the entire ride back home but she could feel his rage rippling from his skin and filling the interior of the car with a stifling tension. The fact that he hadn't said a word to her told her that whatever was coming would be extremely unpleasant.

  Victor pulled the car door open and Marcus climbed out. Holly hesitated. She could stay in the car, refuse to get out and enter the house. Of course that was an utterly ridiculous idea and Marcus would probably just have Victor carry her into the house anyway.

  No, there was no point in putting off the inevitable. Whatever was coming was going to happen whether she wanted it to or not.

  With a sigh, Holly slid to the door and stepped out onto the drive. Victor stood holding the car door, his shadow falling over her like some sort of nightmarish ghoul. She could already imagine the pleasure he would get from watching Marcus take his revenge.

  Without looking at him, Holly climbed the steps to the house and moved in through the front door. Marcus stood waiting for her just inside the door and before Holly had the chance to react, he grabbed her by the hair, his fingers digging painfully in against her scalp.

  She yelped, pain coursing through her as he dragged her down the hall and into the living room.

  Holly's heart pounded, the vibration echoing through her body as she fought against the grip Marcus had on her.

  "Get your hands off me!" she yelled, twisting against him, but it was no use.

  Reaching the living room, Marcus pushed her ahead of him, the force causing Holly's legs to tangle in the skirt of her dress.

  She stumbled. The ground raced up to meet her before she had the chance to catch herself. The carpet burned against the skin of her arms.

  "Get up, you worthless whore!" he screamed, his face turning a bright shade of crimson.

  Holly crawled across the floor in an attempt to get away from his rage that flooded the room, burning through the oxygen in the room, making it impossible to take a deep-enough breath.

  "Who the hell do you think you are? The thought that you could show me up like that? Did you plan that with him? Plan to humiliate me in front of the entire town?"

  "Marcus, I didn't, I swear. You know I wouldn't risk something like that. I knew how angry you'd be..."

  "So, what? I'm just supposed to believe that you played no part in my humiliation? The people I work for aren't going to be very happy, Holly, they aren't going to like this one bit."

  The mention of the people he worked for instantly sparked Holly's curiosity. He'd never given her any indication that he was involved with anyone else, or that his need to gain the respect her name provided was linked to anything other than his own selfish motivations.

  "I'm sorry, Marcus, can't you just tell them this was a terrible mistake?"

  He shook his head as he began to pace the floor, his movement making Holly dizzy as he strode up and down the living room.

  "I don't think they'll be interested in petty excuses."

  "But it's not an excuse..." Holly's voice trailed off as she caught sight of the wicked glint in his eyes.

  Marcus stopped pacing and crouched down in front of her.

  "If you're not behind this then that means that your little boyfriend planned this whole thing."

  Holly didn't say anything. Her heart began to pound against her ribcage.

  "And you know what that means, don't you?"

  Holly shook her head. Deep down she knew what he would say, but a small, childish, part of her hoped that if she didn't say anything at all then maybe it wouldn't happen.

  "Of course you do, Holly. You're not stupid. I told you the people you cared about would stay safe as long as you kept your mouth shut and no one found out. Riley Reynolds obviously knows something and I have a sneaking suspicion that you're the reason."

  "You're wrong. He doesn't know anything. He just thinks you're a pompous ass."

  She knew that what she said would inflame him, but Marcus was normally the type to be easily distracted. If she could throw him off track now, perhaps he'd forget all about what Riley did or didn't know.

  Marcus lashed out, his hand catching Holly across the side of her jaw. A pained whimper escaped her as he wrapped his hand around her throat and raised his hand to strike her again.

  But the blow never came.

  "Marcus, you need her, so don't let her distract you." Victor's voice surprised Holly.

  She hadn't noticed him enter the room and his intervention was utterly unexpected.

  Marcus froze, his hand still raised above his head.

  "Did you just interrupt me, Victor?"

  "Yes and if I hadn't, you'd have beaten her to a bloody pulp. I know what your temper is like, Marcus. Remember what George said."

  Holly's ears pricked up as the colour slowly drained from Marcus' face.

  He dropped his hand and released his grip on Holly's neck, brushing his hands down over the front of his suit as he straightened up.

  "Of course, you're right, Victor. What was I thinking?"

  "Just follow the plan and George won't care about tonight's slight hiccup."

  Marcus nodded, a smile curling his lips as he turned to Victor.

  "Holly, you owe this man your life tonight," Marcus said, gesturing to Victor to come forward. "Without him, I'd have killed you. I'd have enjoyed it, but your death isn't going to get me where I need to be."

  Holly didn't say anything, a fine tremble running through her as she nursed her bruised cheek.

  The moment Victor was within reach, Marcus punched him, the turn of his mood so sudden that Holly let out a startled scream.

  Victor didn't attempt to fight back as Marcus beat him, the much larger bodyguard simply taking each blow as though it was something completely normal and exactly what he expected.

  Marcus finally pulled back, his fists bloodied and bruised. Victor was on his knees, blood dripping from the side of his mouth. As he stood, Holly noticed a slight flinching around his eyes as though he was in far more pain than he wanted to admit.

  “Take her to the basement,” Marcus said, his deep heavy breathing causing a strain in his voice.

  Holly scrambled back across the floor, out of Victor’s reach. The last place she wanted to end up in was the basement. She could still remember the first three days she’d spent there after Marcus had first arrived and she’d questioned him.

  “I…” she started to speak, the fear plain in her voice. Holly hated herself for it.

  “Don’t you want to spend the night down there?”

  Holly shook her head, afraid that if she opened her mouth again nothing but fear would spill out.

  “Then beg, Holly. I know you can do it and if you do it just right, then I’ll let you stay upstairs, let you sleep in your own bed…”

  The thought of begging Marcus for anything filled Holly with such revulsion that she had to fight the urge to gag in front of him. She wouldn’t ever beg him for anything, not even if it meant saving her life.

  “The basement is just fine,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady.

  “Suit yourself.” Marcus smiled, the look in his eyes turning the blood in Holly’s veins to ice.

  Victor didn’t wait for her to get up from the floor. He simply bent down and jerked her upright, the grip on her arm enough to bring tears to her eyes.

  Holly bit down on her tongue, holding all the pain and emotion within. She wouldn’t give either of them the satisfaction of knowing just how afraid or upset she truly was.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to swallow the tears back down, her mind instantly conjuring an image of Riley.

  She’d been a fool to question him. If she’d just left it alone and enjoyed the little bit of time they had together, then she’d have something to hold onto during the long dark hours in the basement. This way she had nothing but Riley’s hurt and anger to keep her company.

  The moment they were clear of the room, Holly noticed Victor’s grip on her arm loosening. Pins an
d needles rushed down her arm as the circulation returned and she grimaced at the uncomfortable feeling.

  “How badly hurt are you?” Victor’s whisper was gruff but that didn’t conceal the concern that lurked in his voice.

  “I’m… I’m fine,” Holly said, stammering over the words as she tried to wrap her head around Victor’s sudden concern for her wellbeing.

  “You don’t have to lie to me. I saw how hard he hit you. It’d be enough to leave most people seeing stars.”

  Victor paused and swung Holly around to face him, the sudden movement causing the room to spin around her.

  She flinched as he reached out, his large rough fingers brushing against the side of her face. Holly had no idea what to expect from Victor. He’d always appeared aloof and only too happy to land her in trouble with Marcus, so the sudden switch in his personality left her reeling.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t need to shrink away from me.”

  Holly opened her eyes slowly and stared up into his grey eyes. There was a tenderness lurking within them that she hadn’t seen before.

  “Thank you for stopping him,” she said. Holly swallowed back the uncertainty that lurked inside her. If Victor cared for her then maybe he could help her.

  Holly had seen enough cop programs to know that if Victor saw her as a human being with real feelings and thoughts, then he wouldn’t be so willing to let Marcus hurt her. If she could make him care for her, then he wouldn’t want any harm to come to her at all.

  She smiled up at him, the movement making her wince as the bruising on her face stretched.

  “He shouldn’t have done that.” Victor’s voice dropped lower as his fingers continued to caress the side of her face. “George won’t like it if he finds out.”

  “Who’s George?” Holly said, as she fought to hold still beneath Victor’s touch.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get you some ice for your face,” Victor said, his voice returning to normal as he started to move forward once more, forcing Holly to follow him.

  He pulled the door to the basement open, the air circulating around Holly and making her shiver as the smell of damp and mould flooded her senses. It was difficult to keep moving forward, each step taking her farther down into the bowels of the house.

  Reaching the bottom step, Holly dug her heels in and Victor shot her a puzzled look.

  “Can’t you just pretend you left me down here? He’s not going to notice anyway. By the time you get back upstairs he’ll be halfway to drunk and keeping himself entertained with one of the girls he hired for the night.”

  “I have to follow orders, Holly, you know that. Anyway, you need to learn your lesson. Your actions have consequences. You need to understand that.”

  “I’ve already had my lesson for the night. The bruises on my face and neck are proof enough of that.”

  Victor shook his head. “I can’t risk it. He said down here for the night, so this is where you’ll stay. I might disagree with what happened but it’s not up to me to set him straight.”

  Holly sighed in frustration as Victor started back up the steps, leaving her to stand in the middle of the basement alone. She scanned the area, searching for something she could use during the night to keep warm but the space appeared to be empty.

  Marcus had cleared the space out after her last stay, probably just to make it an even worse environment to spend time in.

  Victor’s boots disappeared out of sight and Holly held her breath as she waited for the light to go off.

  “I’ll get the ice and leave the light for tonight. It’ll be our secret,” Victor said from the top of the stairs.

  The sound of the door slamming and the lock sliding home filled Holly with a sense of despair. Moving to the back wall, she did her best to huddle in on herself, wrapping her arms around her body in an attempt to keep some of the heat in, but it was no use. The dress she wore was far too flimsy to provide any real coverage and the stone was so cold that after a few seconds of being propped against it Holly could feel it seeping into her bones.

  She finally let go. The tears she’d held in check were now dripping down her face. With her eyes closed she tried to imagine Riley’s arms around her but in the damp and freezing basement her memories betrayed her, leaving her to face the night alone.

  Chapter 11

  Riley lifted his pounding head from the desk. The piece of paper that was stuck to his cheek obscured his vision before he ripped it away with a frustrated growl.

  The empty bottle of brandy lay on its side on the desk as though mocking him for his idiocy the night before. But none of that mattered. It wasn’t the empty bottle that had awoken him.

  He pushed to his feet. The room spun around him, unsettling the liquid contents of his stomach. He swore in that moment that it would be the last time he downed a bottle of anything as a means to dull his pain and anger.

  Lurching towards the open office door, Riley gripped the doorframe as his stomach twisted, memories of the night before resurfacing. The stinging pain in the palm of his hand as he leaned against the doorjamb had him cursing aloud.

  He was a fool to let Holly go, to let her leave with the monster that Marcus was. If anything happened to her, it would be all his fault. Constantly claiming that his hands were tied and that he couldn’t do anything unless she let him in was nothing more than an excuse.

  The sound of cutlery shifting in the kitchen reminded Riley of what had awoken him and he hurried out into the hall.

  Reaching the kitchen, he let out a relieved sigh as he spotted Stuart rummaging through the cupboards. From where he stood, Riley could just make out his brother’s mumbled irritation.

  “Looking for anything in particular or just having a rifle through because you want to?” Riley said, crossing his arms over his chest, wincing once more as his hand burned.

  There was probably still some glass lodged within it, and if he didn’t clean it out soon it’d just get infected and that was something he could do without.

  If Stuart was surprised at Riley’s sudden appearance he didn’t show it.

  “I’m searching for the coffee. I know you had it last time I was here.”

  “Stuart, the machine is sitting right next to you on the counter. The coffee is already in it.”

  “Not that—I think it’s broken. All it does is hiss and spit boiling water out at me. I’ve already burned myself on it this morning. I’m looking for the instant.”

  “I threw it out since you last stayed. I didn’t think anyone was using it.”

  Stuart sighed and let the cupboard door fall shut as he turned to face Riley.

  “You look terrible,” Stuart said, surprised. “What the hell happened to you last night?”

  Riley instantly bristled. He could practically feel his brother’s judgement as he studied him.

  “You’re hurt—did Stark do that?” Stuart’s tone had suddenly turned grim and it took Riley a few seconds to catch up with his brother’s train of thought.

  He unfolded his arms and stared down at his hand. The blood had dried into the creases in his palm and down his fingers. It instantly transported him to the last time his hands had been soaked in blood.

  “Riley?” Stuart’s voice jolted him from the memory and he looked up at his brother in confusion.

  “What?” he said, struggling to shake the chill that had descended down over his body.

  “Are you alright? Jesus, Riley, what the hell happened to you?” Stuart’s voice was filled with concern as he crossed the kitchen.

  Stuart reached out, his hand brushing against Riley’s shoulder, but Riley shrugged him off.

  “I’m fine. I had a little too much to drink last night and cut my hand on a broken tumbler. It has nothing to do with Stark.”

  Riley headed for the sink, determined to wash the rust-coloured blood from his hand. It was a memory he had buried down inside himself and he wasn’t about to let it surface just because his head was pounding with the after-eff
ects of too much brandy.

  Gritting his teeth as he ran his hand beneath the water, he pressed his fingers against the cut, searching for any fine shards of glass that might be still embedded beneath the skin.

  Finally satisfied, he grabbed some paper towels and wrapped them around his hand before turning to face his brother once more.

  Stuart had remained silent the entire time but Riley could practically feel his questions bubbling just beneath the surface of his calm exterior. He knew Stuart wouldn’t rest until he knew the details of his conversation with Holly. Not that it was any of his business, but that wouldn’t bother Stuart.

  “So are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to guess?”

  “No need for guessing games, but I need to feel a little more human before I’m willing to discuss what happened last night.”

  “You know, Anderson isn’t particularly thrilled with you.”

  Riley nodded and moved to the door. “And I’m sure Anderson’s ire will wait until I’ve had a shower.” He didn’t wait for Stuart to give him permission.

  “And what do I do about the coffee machine?” Stuart called after him as Riley climbed the stairs.

  “You’re a smart man, figure it out,” he said, a smile curving his lips as he imagined the look on his brother’s face.

  * * *

  Lifting the steaming cup of rich-smelling dark coffee to his lips, Riley closed his eyes as it washed down the back of his throat. The caffeine instantly perked his senses and pushed back against the fog that threatened to swallow his brain whole.

  “It wasn’t that hard to figure out, now was it?” he said to Stuart as he replaced the cup on the counter.

  “No…” Stuart said, ducking his head so his gaze was trained on the cup in front of him.

  Isla bustled into the room carrying a fresh bunch of flowers in her arms and realisation dawned on Riley.

  “You didn’t figure any of it out, did you?”

  “Yes… Well, no… I practically had it and then Isla arrived and she insisted on helping.” Stuart shot Riley a sheepish grin.

  “Isla, you didn’t need to help him. If he can’t figure out a coffee machine by now, then he’s a lost cause.”

 

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