Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

  There is another long pause. I wait as patiently as I can. “Fine,” she says, “When are you going?”

  “Whenever you can,” I say.

  “All right. I have a few hours to kill. Come pick me up at my office and we can go,” she says, and I thank her before hanging up.

  I roll the privacy window down and tell my driver to head to Éclair’s office building. My driver nods, and I can tell there is a slight judgmental thought running through his head. “She’s helping me with something,” I say so he doesn’t think we’re going to get her just so I can screw around.

  “I’m sure she is, sir.” My driver says.

  Man, this guy is a real asshole. I ought to punch him in the back of the head. I lean forward and hand him the napkin that Kate had written down the address down on. “After we pick up Éclair, this is where we are headed.”

  My driver looks at the address curiously. “Um… that’s a pretty dangerous neighborhood, sir. A lot worse than the one you paid a visit to the other day to visit with Ms. Kate.”

  “I know,” I say, “But I have something to take care of.”

  “And you’re taking Ms. Éclair there?” My driver asks.

  “I am.” I say.

  “If you say so, sir.” He pulls out of the gas station’s parking lot he had parked in after leaving the strip club. We head to Éclair’s office complex, and the closer we get the more nervous I become. I hope she can help me come up with something to say when I talk to Eddies’ biological father.

  52

  I think I’m standing outside of a crack house. Éclair shifts uncomfortably next to me as we stand at the edge of the property line just as my driver pulls off –not willing to stay in one place driving such a nice car in this area. The two of us stick out of the crowd: Éclair in her tight, black business skirt and sleek white business jacket with her hair pulled up in a tight, professional looking bun and me in my gray suit and blue tie wearing a Rolex like a dumbass –that shit is bound to get the two of us jumped. Speak of the devil…

  This punk kid wearing an oversized t-shirt and a bandana on his head comes walking up to us, his eyes on Éclair. “Hey sexy, what are you doing out here? You look like you’re a little far from home.” He whistles, and I’m ready to knock the kid in the face –but I know better. Éclair would bitch me out later if I dared overstep my bounds. She’s got this.

  “Walk away.” She hisses, staring at the kid from under her designer sunglasses.

  “Hey, bitch,” he says, “I’m just trying to be friendly.” His eyes dart at her Prada bag and he puts his hand in his pocket, whipping out a damn switchblade. “But if you don’t want to be friendly-”

  I’m sure he had some clever line worked up for us, but he does not have a chance to spit it out before Éclair has a damn pistol pointed in the kid’s face. The kid jolts back and trips over the metal trash bens sitting out on the curb. He jumps up, and he’s gone in a matter of seconds. “What the hell, Éclair? Since when do you have a fucking gun?” I ask. It’s silver and pink, of course.

  She places the gun back in her little purse and huffs at me. “You never know.” She says and starts towards the house, and I follow.

  I nervously knock on the door, and I can hear movement from within the house. Éclair touches my shoulder and points over towards the side of the house where there are about twelve Harley’s chained up. I start to get nervous about whatever it is we are walking in to. The door flings open and this short guy in a leather jacket answers, a beer in one hand. The guy looks us up and down and says, “Something tells me you two aren’t the pizza delivery guys. What the fuck do you want?”

  “We’re looking for Ricardo Smith,” Éclair says because I’ve suddenly gotten tongue-tied.

  “Oh yeah?” this guy is not even shy about staring at Éclair. He takes a swig of his beer. “And who exactly are you to him?”

  “I’m… friends with his son,” I say, not wanting to explain all the details. “Is he here?”

  “You’re friends with Tommy?” the guys asks.

  Who the fuck is Tommy? I frown. “No. I’m friends with Eddie.”

  “Oh. That one.” The guy grunts and opens the door. “Yeah, come on in. He’s here. Who are you two anyways? Your names, I mean?” he leads us inside, and we follow close behind.

  “I’m James. This is Éclair.” I say as we turn the corner into a sort of game room where a bunch of biker types are playing pool and drinking.

  The guy who had answered the door looks around. He grunts and looks straight at one of the younger guys in the group. “Hey, yo, Tommy, where’s your daddy at?”

  I cringe. Is one of Eddie’s siblings here? I look up and see this guy coming around from the other side of the pool table, beer in one hand and pool stick in the other. Holy shit. He could be Eddie’s twin. With the greasy look, the leather jacket, and the big black boots he almost looks like he could play Eddie’s evil twin in a movie. The guy looks dead at me. “Holy fuck,” the guy, Tommy, says and laughs, “You’re James, aren’t you?” he laughs. “Eddie’s brother.”

  The guy who had brought us inside laughs and goes to find himself a seat as though we have suddenly become a side-show attraction. “Um… yeah.” I say, “That’s me. And are you one of Eddie’s brothers?”

  “Yeah. Hold on, I’ll go get the old man. This shit should be good.” He walks off laughing like he just cannot wait to see what is about to happen.

  Éclair stands close to me, her arms crossed in front of her. I can’t tell is she is scared of our current predicament or if she is just analyzing the room. Probably the second of the two. It takes a lot to scare her. After a minute or two this man comes walking out of a back room. Much like the others, he is dressed in full biker gear. His head is shaved, and he’s got a damn swastika tattoo on the side of his head like a jackass. In the face, though, I can tell that this guy is Eddie’s father.

  “Holy shit,” Éclair whispers to me, “Your mama fucked that guy.”

  “I will fucking kill you.” I warn her.

  “Ricardo Smith?” I ask once he is standing toe to toe with me.

  The guy nods and waves his hand, “Come on. I’m sure you’re here to talk about Eddie. Better to do that without a bunch of prying ears.” He heads back into the back room where he had come from, so Éclair and I follow.

  We enter into a den setting where a worn out couch, a single beanbag chair, a couple of wooden stools, and a television make up pretty much the entire room. Tommy is seated on the bean bag, and he pops open a cooler when Éclair and I sit down. “You two want a beer?” he asks, and we both politely decline.

  Ricardo grabs one of the wooden chairs and pulls up a seat, not saying a word until Tommy tosses him a beer. “So?” he questions once we are all settled, “What do you want?”

  “I came here to tell you about what happened to Eddie.” I begin.

  “Fuck, kid, I know what’s going on with Eddie. It’s all over the damn news.” Ricardo takes a swig of his beer. He waves a finger at Éclair, “Who’s this bitch? And what’s wrong with her fucking eyes?”

  “I have Alexander Genesis… it makes them purple, asshole. My name is Éclair.” Éclair answers for me, her voice cold and clearly agitated.

  “Like the supplement woman?” he asks, and Éclair nods.

  “Hold on,” I say, drawing his attention back towards me. “You know what’s going on with Eddie?”

  “Last I tuned in he was on life support or something.” Ricardo says.

  I notice that Tommy has put his beer down. The guy sits upright, “What happened?” Tommy asks, “I didn’t know he was in the hospital?”

  Ricardo doesn’t give me a chance to answer Tommy. He looks at me and asks, “Did you come here to tell me he’s dead before I hear it on the news?” He takes another swig of his beer, “Did he leave his old man anything?”

  I bite my tongue, but Éclair does no such thing. “Fuck you. You’re a real piece of work. No, he’s not dead, you asshole. H
e’s on life support. We came here because we thought you would want to go see him.”

  “He’s in a comma. I don’t see the point.” He says and pulls out a thing of cigarettes and begins searching his pockets for his lighter.

  “The point is that you’re his father.” Éclair hisses. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Ricardo looks dead at me, “Why don’t you tame your little skank before I got to do it for you?”

  “Excuse me?” Éclair stands up, and I grab her wrist. I shoot her a look that tells her to keep her mouth shut as I stand up.

  “We’ll be leaving.” I say, “Sorry to have wasted your time.”

  “Sorry to have wasted yours.” He grumbles. Suddenly this grin appears on his face, “How’s your mama doing, by the way?”

  I frown. “She’s dead.”

  “Damn. What the hell happened?” he asks.

  “Heart attack. She died about five years ago,” I say.

  “Too bad.” He says, “I thought maybe with your daddy gone she’d want to hook up again like in the good old days.”

  Yup. That’ll do it. “Fuck you, man!” I snap.

  He laughs and stands up, “What’s wrong? Did I strike a nerve with you? Don’t like thinking of your mama as a cheating slut?”

  “Dad, what the hell?” Tommy rises from his seat, and he reaches out and grabs Ricardo by the arm, pulling him back. “You’re getting to old for this shit.” Tommy says, “Stop trying to start a fight.”

  Ricardo yanks his arm away and then looks at me. “You come here acting all noble.” He points a finger at me, “You come here judging me. I can see it in your eyes. That kid, Eddie, he had a better life because I didn’t stick around. It was better this way.” He laughs and then looks at Éclair and then back at me, “And you know what I think? I think that bitch knows something. Makes sense. I’ve followed the story in the news, and I’m surprised no one else is talking about it with the way your companies compete. She’s probably the one who poisoned your shit, Mont. And I bet Eddie caught onto it.”

  “Fuck you!” Éclair snaps.

  “You better shut your mouth, you old piece of shit,” I warn and the guy reaches out and shoves me back. I keep my balance, and I just frown at him. His push had been so weak. I look at him. He’s really old. I mean, really old. He looks like he is probably ten years older than my own parents would be. I’m not about to pick a fight with him. I just shake my head. “You know what, Ricardo? You really missed out. Not just with Eddie, but with all of your kids. Kate, Max, Nick… and you have some pretty amazing grandkids too. You’re right. It’s better this way. A lot better.” I grab Éclair’s wrist and pull her out of the back room, and we get out of the house as quickly as we can.

  We get into the car as soon as my driver pulls up, and we head back towards home. I thank Éclair for coming with me, and she assures me that Eddie is better off without a creep like Ricardo coming up to the hospital anyways. We say our goodbyes, and my driver takes me home. I wish I had never gone to meet that son of a bitch. Not just because of what he said about Eddie or about my mother but also because of what he said about Éclair. Éclair is my friend –would she have poisoned by supplements just to get ahead? Would she have hurt Eddie? I got to sleep, and my dreams are plagued with nightmares.

  53

  I really needed this mental break. Sylvia brought a movie over and made me dinner –some honey mustard based chicken casserole dish with mushrooms and cheese. It sounds like a weird combination, but it’s actually pretty good. The two of us sit in front of the television watching an old, cheesy romantic comedy. She can tell I’m distracted. We don’t make it very far into the movie before she pauses it and looks at me with these pleading eyes. “All right, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?”

  Geeze, I can’t hide anything from her. I lay my plate of food down on the coffee table and slump down into the couch. I wind up telling her all about going to meet Eddie’s father and what a disappointment it had been. “I guess I just thought he would care more,” I say.

  “There is nothing you can do about it,” Sylvia says, “some people are just jackasses like it’s their damn birthright. I’m sure Eddie, if he knew you had gone looking for him, would appreciate the gesture and probably would have understood. I’m sure he knows that guy is a tool.”

  “It just doesn’t seem fair,” I say. “Eddie had two fathers, and neither of them gave or give a shit about him. My dad raised him, sure, but that stupid will of his was a jackass move, and it really fucked Eddie up. Then he finds out he has another father out there… he went searching for him, and he winds up with a man like Ricardo Smith. It just isn’t right that Eddie had to put up with all of that bullshit.”

  “I know.” Sylvia touches my hand. “Eddie has you, though.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not much better,” I say.

  She shakes her head. “You have gone to that hospital and sat with him and read to him or talked to him every day since he was hurt. You are making sure his younger brother, Nick, gets help. You’re getting to know his siblings. You went looking for his father for him. It sounds to me like Eddie has a pretty damn good younger brother if you ask me. A little rough around the edges” –She pats the top of my head and stifles a laugh – “but you’re like a diamond in the rut, you know?”

  I chuckle slightly under my breath and lean over to kiss her forehead. “There is something else bothering me,” I admit.

  “What is it?” she asks and plays with the hair on the back of my neck. It’s weird how calming that is.

  “Eddie’s father thinks Éclair is the one behind the sabotage at the company… and he thinks she could have hired someone to hurt Eddie. And I sort of have been thinking that too. I don’t know… she’s my friend… I just am not sure what to think… what do you think?” I look her dead in the eye.

  She is quiet for a moment as she contemplates the accusation. She shakes her head. “There is no way. Éclair owns a multi-billion dollar company. It’s successful. Sure, she might would do a few less-than-ethical business transaction, I might not put hat past her –or past you for that matter –but I don’t think she would risk putting her company in jeopardy like that. The way you talk about her, it sounds like she really loves her job. I don’t think she would take such a huge gamble by sabotaging you or by hiring some sort of hitman.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m glad to hear Sylvia say that. I needed someone else to tell me that Éclair wouldn’t do it. “Good,” I say.

  “Plus,” Sylvia adds, “It sounds like you two are pretty close friends.”

  We wind up putting the movie back on and curling up together on the couch. I’m glad Sylvia thinks Éclair is innocent, but truthfully I am still worried.

  54

  I have been sitting at the hospital for three hours hoping and praying that Eddie would wake up like he did last week. His breathing has gotten better and they have taken the tube out of his throat. They still have small oxygen tubes in his nostrils, though. This morning doctor told me that Eddie is proving to me a miracle case. He’s not on life support anymore, but he’s still hooked up to God-knows how many different machines doing God-knows what for him. Not to mention the shit ton of morphine they have pumping into his veins.

  I sigh and start packing up my small bag of goodies I had brought in expectation for a long visit: a couple of magazines, books, and snacks. After packing everything back up, I sit back down in the chair next to his bed for a little while longer to tell him goodbye and that I will be back to see him first thing in the morning. As I am saying this his fingers move slightly. I look up at his face, and I can see him squinting at me. The swelling around his eyes has calmed down significantly, but most of his face still has colorful shading from the bruising. “You leaving now?” he asks, his voice hoarse and scratchy after having that tube down his throat for several weeks now.

  My stomach starts doing flips. It’s the first time I’ve heard his voice in weeks. “Eddie…” I manage to say
his name, but I’m honestly at a loss for words. At the risk of him being able to pick at me for the rest of our lives about it, my eyes start to water.

  He looks tired, but he still manages to grin at me –showing off his newly crooked smile due to some missing teeth. “I feel like I got hit by a truck,” he says.

  “You look like it,” I say and wipe my face dry. “You’ve been under for a while, man. You woke up for just a few minutes just a few days ago… do you remember?”

  “Not really,” he says and lets out a soft groan.

  “I’m sorry.” I spit out quickly. “God, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry?” he questions, “For what?”

  “For being such an ass,” I say. “Man, I treat you like shit. And I’m sorry. We got into that huge fight right before all of this happened, and I just want to say I’m sorry.”

  “We got into a fight?” he asks. “James, I don’t even remember. I’m sorry if I did anything.”

  “No, you’re not the jackass,” I say. I smile at him. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” he says groggily.

  “Eddie, who did this to you?” I ask.

  He stares at me for a minute. He appears to be concentrating. “I don’t remember,” He says, “I don’t remember what even happened. Did someone break into my house or something?”

  “Geeze Eddie, no. I found you at the factory like this,” I say.

  “Damn,” Eddie says and raises a shaky hand, touching his head.

  “Careful,” I say, “You’ve got a cracked skull.”

  “Is there anything on me that’s not broken?” he questions. Then he lifts up his sheets and takes a peek down south, subtly saying, “Just checking,” under his breath.

  I laugh. “You’re such a dumbass.”

  “Fuck, man, I can’t feel shit.” He says. Then I see a slight panic in his eyes. “I can’t feel my legs…”