Revenge Forsaken

by Chloe Fischer

  “Don’t be a jackass.”

  “No, seriously, what?” Luke snarled, leaping to his feet. “Chaminga sent the girl to live with you, to seduce you and now that she’s done her part, he’s going to get off with whatever money he owes you.”

  “No he won’t,” Remy said flatly. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Fuck me, Remy. I asked you if you’d given him any money and you said no. I could have had this dealt with by now.”

  “This might come as a surprise to you, Luke, but I’m much better at adulting than you are.”

  “Obviously not if you’ve moved in a gypsy and are missing thousands of dollars on top of that.”

  The men glared at one another.

  “Are you done?” Remy demanded, his heart racing. He loathed that Luke had just filled his mind with all the doubts he’d managed to cast aside in the past two weeks.

  Olive cares for me - . I’ve seen that she’s just as much a victim in this as I am. I have no reason to doubt her.

  “Where is Chaminga’s house? Same place in Woodbridge?”

  “Why? What the hell are you planning, now?”

  “I’m going to pay him a ‘friendly’ visit,” Luke spat. “And see if he intends to pay you or if you’re just now stuck drowning in your own fucking lust.”

  “I don’t need you to—”

  “It’s still the same house, Luke,” Olive interjected, reappearing. “And I think you should go.”

  Luke scowled at her.

  “I don’t really give a fuck what you think.”

  “Fine. Just go, then!” she shot back. “Beat the crap out of him, kill him, I don’t really give a damn. He hasn’t been in touch with me or Remy. I know he has two more days to make good but I’d like to know what he’s cooking up now too, either way.”

  Luke’s eyes narrowed into slits.

  “You’ll probably call and warn him I’m coming.”

  “Fuck me, Luke, either go or don’t go! I don’t care. Unless you’re staying for Thai, get the hell out of here so we can enjoy our evening in peace.”

  Luke grimaced and to his credit, looked slightly abashed.

  “I shouldn’t have busted in here like this, but when I saw her on your show…”

  “You could have called,” Remy growled unforgivingly, but he knew his friend was only infuriated and reacting because he was concerned.

  “One more thing,” Remy yelled out after him as he shuffled toward the door. Luke paused.

  “You owe Olive an apology.”

  Luke’s mouth tightened and he scowled.

  “I’ll give it gladly if I find out she’s not in cahoots with her father to rob you blind,” he retorted, storming out of the condo.

  The door slammed in his wake and Remy looked at Olive with embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry about Luke,” he muttered, reaching for Olive’s hand but she shook her head.

  “He has every right to be upset,” she replied softly. “If the roles were reversed, I’m not sure I would have handled matters differently.”

  Remy snickered.

  “I’d pay good money to see you burst into your best friend’s apartment and threaten someone,” he teased, gathering her into his arms, but Olive only sighed.

  “What do you think he’ll do to Victor if he finds him?”

  “Never mind what Luke does,” Remy said with more nonchalance than he felt.

  For days, he’d been just as convinced that Victor was not going to pay the money but Remy wasn’t sure what he was going to do if that happened.

  It would be a blessing and a curse. I’d be out a quarter million dollars but Olive would never have to worry about going back to him because he’d never fight me about having her stay. He’d be too worried that I’d fucking kill him.

  Still, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money and losing face was worth even more.

  You have two more days to think about this, he told himself sternly.

  “Kiss me,” he told Olive, dropping his lips to hers. Eagerly, she pressed her mouth to his and instantly, they were locked in one another.

  His hands fumbled over the buttons of her shirt, reaching down to cup the fullness of her breasts. He couldn’t get enough of her breasts, the feel of taut nipples over his thumbs and her reaction to his sweet torture of them only fuelled the fire between them.

  Olive responded with a deep throated moan, her own hands reaching to pull his shirt over his head before barreling him down to the floor between the entranceway and the living room.

  Their tongues flicked at one another before Olive’s silken hair trailed along the smooth skin of his chest, pausing to tease his nipple between her teeth.

  Remy groaned loudly and pulled her back up, rolling her down so that he pinned her arms to the ground with one hand.

  He paused to stare at her, his pulse quickening.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful, Ollie,” he told her hoarsely. A soft smile touched her lips and slowly, he lowered his face to taste them again. Her arms encircled his neck, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling his crotch toward hers.

  Even through the material of his pants, he could feel the heat of her core and in seconds, he had managed to wrangle both their bottoms off, their mouths still connected.

  She was ready for him and he wasted no time entering her, his engorged rod filling her as she gasped like it was the first time she’d ever felt him.

  “So tight — you’re incredible,” he muttered in her ear, his thrusts deep and slow, savoring the press of her pussy against him.

  “Yes, please - more,” she breathed, squeezing his shaft and together they fell into a mounting rhythm of passion.

  He fell back, wrapping her calves around his waist, hands gripping the jiggling flesh of her breasts and together, their need for release grew higher, hotter.

  “I’m coming!” Olive gasped but Remy already knew. He knew every inch of her body now, every noise, every curve. He had known she would be coming even before she did which is how he knew to release at precisely the same moment.

  Shuddering, they spasmed against each other, Olive’s nails digging into his back and at that precise second, the intercom buzzed rudely.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Remy muttered, dropping his head in defeat against her neck. Olive laughed.

  “Hurry up. That’s probably the Thai food—unless Luke had to get in one last word.”

  Grumbling, Remy hurried to the intercom, still dripping as he padded across the floor.

  “Who is it?”

  “Dragon Princess,” came the distorted voice and Remy buzzed him in.

  “You should probably get your beautiful naked ass out of the hallway,” he suggested. “I don’t want anyone seeing you naked but me.”

  She grinned.

  “How incredibly 1950s of you,” she teased and Remy snorted.

  “Move before I spank your ass,” he growled jokingly.

  “Promises, promises.”

  He’d managed to get back into his pants by the time the delivery guy appeared and no sooner did he close the door did his cell start to ring.

  “Oh, come on!” Remy mumbled. “Who is it?”

  The cell was charging on a table next to Olive. Her brow creased slightly.

  “Luke,” she sighed. “Should I answer it?”

  “No!” he replied but even as he said it, the phone stopped. And promptly started again.

  “It’s going to be one of those nights, isn’t it?” Remy muttered, more to himself than Olive. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll deal with Luke.”

  He strode toward the phone and snatched it off the charger.

  “What, Luke?”

  “He’s gone.”

  “What?”

  “Chaminga. He’s gone,” Luke growled in his ear. Remy’s eyes shot toward Olive who eyed him curiously.

  I can’t let her overhear this.

  “I’ll be back in a second, babe,” he told her, hurrying out of the living room.
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  “Remy? What’s going on?” Olive called after him but he closed the door of his office.

  “What do you mean ‘gone’?” he demanded. “Gone where?”

  Luke inhaled deeply.

  “I have no idea but according to his neighbors, he hasn’t been around in over a week.”

  Remy’s blood ran cold.

  “What?” he gasped. “What about Sondra? What about his wife?”

  There was a long silence and it spoke volumes to Remy even before Luke uttered another word.

  “She was taken away by ambulance a few days ago. Remy, she was in bad shape.”

  “That bastard abandoned his wife?” Remy cursed, forgetting to be quiet. “Just took off and left her completely strung out and incapable of helping herself?”

  “It looks that way.”

  “Where is Sondra now?”

  “She’s at Stonecrest. She’s had a complete psychotic break because of the withdrawal.”

  “Oh, fuck me! I should have seen this coming but I didn’t think he’d abandon his wife. Olive is going to blame herself for this!”

  “This isn’t your fault, Remy. The man has always been a piece of shit. It was only a matter of time before he went on the lam.”

  “I can’t believe he would leave his wife and daughter behind.”

  “Why not? He handed Olive over to you like she was a piece of meat and from what you just said, he’s been sentencing his wife to death for a while now. It’s pretty clear he never gave a shit about anyone but himself.”

  Remy loathed that Luke made a completely sound point.

  Why do I keep trying to give him the benefit of the doubt – he pimped out his daughter and poisoned his wife.

  If he’d given it any real thought, it was obvious that was what Victor had planned all along—he’d only bought himself time to plan an escape.

  And I gave him that time.

  “REMY!” Olive pounded on the door. “What’s going on?”

  How do I tell her about her mother?

  “I have to talk to Olive,” Remy breathed. “Jesus Christ. That prick! How could he do that to her?”

  “To her? What about you?” Luke retorted. “He left you in the hole!”

  But suddenly, Remy realized he really didn’t give a shit about the money at all. His concern was how his lover was going to handle the news that her lowlife father was even lower than she’d already suspected and her mother was possibly beyond any help.

  “What do you want me to do about this, Remy?” Luke demanded. “I can have—”

  “Nothing,” Remy said quietly. “Nothing right now, Luke. Thank you. I’ll call you later and we can discuss it.”

  “I think we should—”

  “I have to go now.”

  He disconnected the call and slowly opened the door as Olive stared at him with wide, concerned eyes.

  “What happened?” she demanded. “I heard you freaking out.”

  “I need you to get dressed and get your coat,” he told her softly. “Your mother is in the hospital.”

  Olive froze, and he could see the fear blaze in her eyes.

  “Is she dead?” she whispered and Remy shook his head.

  “No,” he said gently. “But she’s had a mental break…”

  Her lower lip quivered.

  “I should have gone home to be with her,” she sighed, tears pooling in her luminous eyes. “I shouldn’t have stayed here, to escape my life. You told me I could go!”

  “There was nothing you could have done. She was headed down that road anyway, Olive, and you know it … Your father saw to it that he kept her on that path. Now at least she can get the help she needs.”

  She sniffed.

  “Did Victor tell Luke that? Why didn’t that bastard call me himself?”

  “No, Olive…Victor has fucked off. He left your mother alone and that’s how she spiralled.”

  Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

  “W-what?”

  “I’m sorry, babe. He’s gone.”

  Her mouth fell open in shock and then horror. To his utter amazement, she began to laugh hysterically.

  “He left me as a ‘balance paid’ and left my mother to die?” her laughter turned shrill. “Is that what you’re telling me? And I fell right into his plan – he finally made good on his ongoing threat to kill her. I’ve abandoned her as much as he did, if not more.”

  Remy grasped her shoulders – concerned she was going to lose it.

  “No,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, Olive, but you are so much more than a balance paid and you had nothing to do with why your mother is in the hospital.”

  A thousand emotions passed over her face as she studied him.

  “He really is a piece of shit, isn’t he?”

  “Olive, look at me,” he rasped, tipping her chin up to meet his eyes. “You never have to worry about your father again, do you hear me? You’re free of him now, even if the way it happened is painful and devastating. And if your mother has any fight left in her, we’ll see to it that she’s free and clear of the monster, too.”

  She met his gaze, a slight clarity forming in her dark orbs.

  “You’re right,” she replied quietly. “I’m free now — but my mother was so lost in what he made her, I don’t know if she’ll have the strength.”

  Then she threw herself into his arms and began to sob.

  “Hush, love. We’ll get through this together and together we’ll see to it that your mother comes through the other side of this — your father won’t win,” he vowed to her, stroking her hair, letting her tears flow, until they were spent.

  13

  One Year Later

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “Mom! I’m not pregnant!” Olive sighed, rolling her eyes. “I wish you’d stop asking me that every time I see you.”

  “Wishful thinking, I suppose,” Sondra sighed, eyeing Remy meaningfully. “Or maybe he’s not doing the job he’s supposed to be doing, eh, Randy?”

  “It’s Remy, Sondra.”

  “She’s doing that on purpose,” Olive laughed but her heart was heavy as she stared at her too-frail mother in her bed.

  It had been a long recovery for her, the withdrawal from twenty years of hardcore opioid and alcohol addiction taking its toll on her body in awful ways.

  Still, she had begun to heal more each day and Olive visited her in the home she and Remy had found for her, as often as she could, even though Sondra’s memory was faulty and still full of holes.

  “You know what you should do,” Sondra said, leaning closer to her daughter conspiratorially.

  “What’s that, Mom?” Olive laughed, looking at Remy who wore the same bemused expression.

  “You should find a man whose junk works.”

  “MOM!” Olive choked. “That’s an awful thing to say in front of my fiancé!”

  Sondra shrugged unapologetically.

  “I’m just saying…”

  “My junk works just fine, Sondra,” Remy informed her blandly. “We’re just not having a baby until Olive has finished college and the second store is opened.”

  “Store?” Sondra asked, looking at him blankly. “You have a store?”

  “A tattoo studio, Mom, remember?” Her heart ached as Sondra tried to recall what they were talking about.

  “Oh yes. Of course,” she chuckled. “But you can still have a baby, Ollie. You know, I was younger than you when I had you. Of course, Victor was useless but I wanted a baby so badly. I thought I was going to die when I found out about him.”

  Olive and Remy looked at one another before looking at her.

  “Found out what? About who?” Olive asked in confusion.

  She’s going to have dementia. It’s only going to get worse from here.

  “About Victor. His junk definitely didn’t work. The doctors said it was all psychological because of his time in the military, but I knew he was just a weak man and nature doesn’t allow men like him to reproduce.”


  She tittered again like a child.

  “Mom…what are you saying?” Olive breathed. “Victor couldn’t have children?”

  She shook her head.

  “Nope. That’s why I found a man who could.”

  Olive reeled in shock but Remy put a sturdy hand on her back.

  “Easy,” he murmured. “She probably doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

  “I know what I’m saying!” Sondra snapped irritably. “Why do you think Victor always called me a whore?”

  “Mom, he called me one too—all the time,” Olive reminded her.

  “Because you’re my daughter,” Sondra replied without missing a beat. She was remarkably unperturbed by the tale she was telling her daughter for the first time, even if it was spinning Olive into a mass of confusion.

  “Your real father was a nice banker or something. I can’t remember all the details right now. I met him in some hotel bar. He was in Detroit for a conference and he had such pretty blue eyes.”

  “Jesus Christ, Mom.”

  “What? You should be happy,” Sondra snapped. “Knowing that Victor isn’t related to you. Why do you think it was so easy for him to up and leave?”

  Olive was stunned and she sat in silence, unsure of what else to say.

  “Well,” Remy said, rising. “Olive has an early class tomorrow so we should be heading back.”

  “Oh! Already?” Sondra pouted. “I was hoping we could play Monopoly.”

  “Next time, Sondra,” Remy promised, reaching to pull Olive to her feet. “You’ll call us if you need anything, right?”

  “Of course.”

  Olive kissed her mom, her mind still whirling as Remy led her out of the room and down the hall of the home where Sondra had been since rehab.

  “D-do you think she’s telling the truth?” Olive questioned when they were near the Navigator. “That Victor isn’t really my father?”

  “Would it make a difference if it were true?” Remy asked gently, opening the passenger side door to let her in.

  Olive considered the question carefully.

  Over the past year, she’d undergone a massive emotional transformation, thanks to Remy. She had never had a champion before. Someone who put her first, someone who supported her hopes and dreams. The feeling was divine.