His Pawn (The Manhattan Tales Book 1)

by Thorne, Willa

  A part of me wanted to console her and apologize for dismissing her commencement, but I knew I couldn’t do that. That part of me had not shown itself in such a long time. I was still angry about what her brother had done to me. Yet, deep down, I knew that she was the one paying for my anger, not Travis. I suppressed that idea though.

  I watched her take a few deep breaths to calm herself, but she still would not look in my direction. When she seemed calmer, I felt it was time to bid her good night.

  “You have no idea what happened. I told you not to get attached to me. This is merely a contract.” With that, I left the guest room and closed the door. Right, I didn’t actually bid her good night with that… My lip was curled into a snarl as I stormed down the hall and unlocked my own bedroom. I knew I would not be sleeping this night.

  As expected, I was restless that night. Thoughts haunted my mind. The hurt expression on her face washed over my mind repeatedly. I wondered about the look on her face if she ever knew I planned to use her, corrupt her in an effort to get back at her brother. The idea was sickening and I cursed myself for ever thinking up this plan. I rebuked these thoughts from my mind and stormed down the hall to my personal gym.

  I clocked three miles uphill on the treadmill, and then took all my frustrations out on my punching bag. I was despicable, a scoundrel. In truth, I hated the man I’d become in recent years. I knew what I said to Jill earlier wasn’t true. She’d never once asked me for anything aside from a place to stay. I knew I was taking advantage of her vulnerability, only she had no idea just how much. I gave another vengeful swing at the bag.

  Had she been of age years ago, I knew I’d have chosen her over Ella. There was a genuine, beautiful light about her- Fuck, no. I couldn’t think like that. I could never be with her like that. She wouldn’t be able to handle me. I couldn’t give her what she needs, and she’d never truly give me what I need. Complete control.

  I have my own set of rules. Things I do my way. I struggled at the mere sight of her. Even with my cock between her thighs. I took her how I wanted, and she actually seemed to want more. I felt weaker than ever before around this woman. The fuck?

  She had no idea who I really was, and what I was truly about. After a final swing, the hardest of them all, I turned and found the shadowed figure of Jill in the doorway to my gym. She was wearing nothing more than a white t-shirt and panties. Sexy as hell, but I couldn’t let her get close to me. Not at this moment. She watched me silently, holding a glass of water. There was sadness in those eyes and my heart wrenched. Alarmed by this feeling, I gave her the opposite reaction outwardly.

  “Do you need something?” I asked as I grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from my face. I draped it over my shoulders.

  “No,” she answered quietly. “I just wanted some water.” Her eyes lingered over my body and then she walked away, leaving me standing there in the gym.

  Get a grip on yourself, Woodward. She serves two purposes: Sex and payback. Still, I found myself repulsed by this thought. She wasn’t one of the more experienced women I brought home to fuck and then called a cab after I was finished with them. She was Jillian Pryor. Try as I might, I could not deny that she’d gotten under my skin.

  9. Jilly Bean

  I woke on a Saturday and stretched out in the bed. I could definitely get used to these eight-hundred thread count sheets. I never even knew sheets could be this soft until I lay in this bed. After our argument in which Mason accused me of using him for money, he made himself invisible for the next three days. Each day, Mrs. O’Malley would make me breakfast and then tell me that Mason would be at the office late. Then, he had a four-day business trip to Las Vegas, where he was looking to open a new hotel right on the strip. Perhaps it was selfish and vain of me to think, but I wondered if he was staying away to avoid me. What a stupid thought. He’s a busy man; I’ve only been back in his life for two weeks.

  Because the contract stated I could not get a job outside of school internships, this was especially lonely. To top this, I avoided the calls and texts from my mom and brother as much as I could get away with. I never did discuss what I could and could not say to them based on the confidentiality clause and I’d always been a terrible liar. I’m sure even Mason could attest to that. He’d been there those few times when I tried the teenage rebellion and lied to Travis about where I was going and what I was wearing underneath my overalls. I shook my head as the memories resurfaced, and the smirk on Mason’s face as Travis nearly lost his temper and grounded me for a week.

  I rolled over in the bed and grabbed my phone from the bedstand. As expected, I had two text messages. One was from mom asking me to please call her. The second one was from Elyse. I could feel my face light up at the sight of her text message.

  Elyse: Hey stranger. I’m back. Got in last night. Coffee?

  I grinned giddily. Oh how I’d missed my dear friend. I hastily moved my fingers to type an answer back, but then I stopped and chewed on my lower lip in thought. Elyse would tell me all about her one and only vacation but then she’d turn the conversation about me.

  So, I could already hear her say, what have you been up to? How are the Sloanes? Delightful as ever?

  I hated lying. I looked down at my phone just as another text chimed.

  Elyse: Are you alive? Let’s get coffee today at noon. Our usual?

  My phone suddenly started ringing and I thought it might be Elyse, but it was my mom. I felt guilty playing the “I’m busy” card all the time with my family. I couldn’t take it anymore. I answered the call.

  “Hi mom!” I answered as I sat up.

  “Hi honey. I was starting to wonder if something was wrong. I haven’t heard from you in almost two weeks.” My mom’s soft voice met my ears and my heart clenched with how much I missed her.

  “I’m sorry, mom. Things have just been so hectic.” I chewed on my lower lip.

  I wanted to tell her everything, but I couldn’t. She was prone to depression and anxiety and I couldn’t have her worry about me.

  “I know, but I’m glad you have a minute to catch up. I was calling because I want to know what you are doing for your birthday.”

  “That’s three months away. I’m not sure yet,” I answered with a smile. It was currently the beginning of January, and my birthday is in April.

  I knew the real reason why my mom was calling. Of course she missed me, but it was coming up on the anniversary of my dad’s passing. He died when I was almost six, and I don’t remember much about him outside of photographs, but my mom still gets sentimental around this time every year. I do remember him wearing his NYPD uniform and kissing my forehead before he left the apartment, and I remember the officers coming to our apartment in the middle of the night to tell my mom and brother the news. He was shot during a raid, he would never come home again, and everything else was a blur. I remember how my mom fell to the floor and cried and my brother picked me up and carried me down the hall, away from my mom and the officers. Travis did everything he could to protect my eyes and ears from information that was too graphic. I don’t even remember the funeral.

  “How are you? How are things in Ohio?” I asked as I sat cross-legged on the bed.

  “Things are fine over here. I miss New York, though. I miss you. Do you think you will be able to come for a visit soon, darling?”

  “Um. I’ll have to check.” With Mason. Right, like that will happen…

  “Alright sweetie. I’d just like to see you very soon, especially since March 8th is coming up.” The anniversary of my dad’s death… Every year, my family did something special to honor my dad.

  “I wish your dad could see you now. He’d be so proud of you.” My mom was suddenly so sentimental.

  She got like this every year around this time and it was especially hard this year because I couldn’t be with my family as I was in past years. Her words made me cringe, though; He most certainly would not be proud of me lately… Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I hadn’t
lost my dad that night, if he was still around…

  “I was just looking through some old photo albums the other day. Do you remember when Mason bought us all tickets to see the Rangers in your dad’s memory?” My mom suddenly chuckled.

  My lower lip quivered slightly. “Yeah, I do.” The Rangers were my dad’s favorite hockey team and Mason got us box seats one year.

  “I was just looking at a photo from that night. You were in that phase… what did you kids call that again?” My mom was laughing lightly.

  Oh, God. I remember that photo taken of the four of us at the Ranger’s game. My eyes rounded slightly at the memory of my black baggy pants with the silver chains, converse sneakers which I’d drawn all over in sharpie marker, black nail polish, and a bright pink and black striped T-shirt. I’d dyed my hair black. Yeah, I was that kid. I was fourteen and it was just after I’d met Mason for the first time. Needless to say, my emo punk phase was short-lived after that.

  “Do you ever hear about Mason these days? I wonder how he’s doing.”

  I felt bad that we were having a one-sided conversation but I didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t be lying, or going against the agreement I’d signed.

  “Mason seems to be very busy and very successful,” I answered. He had me sign a contract, and he fucked me … twice… The thought made my stomach clench.

  “I wish I knew what happened between him and your brother,” my mom said. “He was such a sweetheart. I didn’t care for his girlfriend, though. What was her name again?”

  “I miss Mason too,” I answered. That was the truth, and I definitely didn’t want to talk about his ex-girlfriend. Who knows what even happened to her? That was years ago.

  “Oh honey, I have to go. Your uncle is calling me on the other line. I’ll talk to you later and let me know if you can come visit. I’m sure Travis can come pick you up.”

  “Thanks, mom. I love you.” I pursed my lips. I really missed my family and it was hurting that I couldn’t talk to them without bringing up Mason. Damn that Confidentiality Agreement.

  I felt conflicted. I was lonely with Mason’s absence and the stipulations of the contracts, but I couldn’t keep avoiding the people in my life. Before I could hold a real conversation with Elyse, or my mom, I had to call Mason. I had wanted to discuss this with him over dinner several nights ago, but he’s been away. He was supposed to return this afternoon from Las Vegas, but there was no guarantee I’d see him. I dialed his number and held the phone to my ear.

  “Jill,” Mason picked up after three rings. There was some background noise and I assumed he was at the airport.

  “Hi Mason, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  There was a pause of silence. “I’m listening.”

  “My friend is back in the city and she wants to meet for coffee today-”

  “Ask Mrs. O’Malley for my AmEx. She knows where I keep it-”

  “That’s not what I’m asking. I don’t want your money,” I snapped, frustrated.

  “I would beg to differ,” Mason remarked coolly. “What do you want then, Jill?”

  “You couldn’t beg if you tried,” I quipped.

  “Very clever, sweetness,” He responded smoothly. “Tell me what you need.”

  “I hate lying. As it is I’m already avoiding talking to my mom and brother. I just had a one-sided conversation with my mom and she did most of the talking. I don’t know what I can say about my situation, if anything… Eventually they will find out that I’m unemployed and they will wonder where I’m staying.”

  I could hear him sighing on the other end of the line.

  “You’re overanalyzing this too much,” He responded calmly.

  “Mason, these are people I love. I can’t avoid Elyse forever. She’s my best friend.”

  “You can tell her that you lost your job. You reconnected with me after a few years and I’m letting you stay at my place because I’m away a lot… and I’m such a fucking bleeding heart,” he emphasized that last part.

  “Don’t stray beyond that and I’d appreciate it if you kept that information from your mom and brother for a little while longer.”

  I understood why he didn’t want any connection with Travis, but I didn’t quite understand why I had to keep it absolutely secret from my mom and brother about my reunion with Mason. I blurted these thoughts out loud. He was very silent on the line.

  “There is a lot you don’t know, Jill,” he finally stated.

  What an evasive answer.

  “I wish you would tell me what happened between you two,” I said drily. “We really missed you.”

  “We can’t always get what we want, sweetness,” he answered with a wicked smirk in his voice. I was starting to wonder if he suffered from some personality disorder. He was all over the place.

  “Who are you kidding? You get everything you want,” I retorted.

  “Is that what you think?” His tone was ice. I obviously struck a bad chord with that line.

  “I’ll be home at seven sharp. I want you in the library, ready and waiting. Wear your glasses.”

  A fire spread over my body as he spoke. But, I was confused when he told me to wear my glasses. I blanched as I stared at the phone for a second. My designer frames made me feel better, but I still felt uglier with them on than when I wore my contacts. I tried not to wear glasses around Mason if I could help it.

  “Ugh. Why my glasses?” I groaned slightly.

  “Jillian, do not question my requirements or there will be repercussions.” His voice was stern, commanding, and it sent a chill of excitement down to my core. Still, I couldn’t resist.

  “Or what? Are you going to spank me? Ground me?” I taunted. I felt self-assured for about a millisecond…

  The silence was intimidating, and it was not the response I was looking to get.

  “Something like that, yes.” His tone was direct. “I’ll see you tonight.” Then he hung up and I was left to stare at my phone, trying to piece together the last bits of our conversation.

  ****

  It’s only been two weeks, but it feels like months since I’ve seen my best friend. I knew she was going to have questions for me, especially considering my current attire: An emerald green pea coat, a lavender cashmere sweater, designer jeans and hand-made leather boots. It all screamed money, and as thrifting was one hobby I shared with Elyse, she was going to become suspicious immediately. I considered wearing some of my old clothes, still hiding under the bed in my pink duffel bag, but I thought against it. Mason made it clear that I could not be seen entering or exiting his precious hotel looking like a “ragamuffin.” He even had it included in his ridiculous contract.

  Elyse Mendez is from Queens, and you know as soon as she opens her mouth. She doesn’t actually attend New York University. She attended community college when we first met, but soon dropped out. She claimed school wasn’t her deal, but I still don’t believe her. She’s too passionate about journalism and helping disadvantaged kids. She sometimes volunteers in the community center and the kids relate to her really well.

  The bell in the tiny coffee shop chimed and I looked up as I set my bag down on the seat beside me. I beamed when I saw Elyse look around for a second and then she grinned when she spotted me. She walked very quickly toward me and slid into a wooden chair across from me.

  “Sorry I’m late. The bus broke down but they sent another real fast,” she said as she slid her puffy silver winter coat from her shoulders. My cheeks flushed warm and pink when I realized how overdressed I truly felt. She wore chunky silver hoops, a faded light blue sweater and dark gray jeans. Her black converse were worn and faded in the front. I felt guilty because I never noticed how tired our clothes were until just recently. I always thought Elyse had better fashion sense than me with her bright choices and bold statements, but today she seemed as simple as I used to be before Mason forced his stylist on me.

  “Wow,” she suddenly said, her blue eyes piercing through me as she examin
ed me up and down. She brushed a strand of straight, black hair over her shoulder. “The Sloanes have been good to you.”

  I forced a tight smile and took a deep swallow of my luke-warm latte. I pushed the coffee I’d ordered for her across the table, hoping for a distraction.

  “How was Florida?” I asked her. I was genuinely curious. She’d only just connected with her father, who hadn’t even known she existed until recently. The story surrounding Elyse is long and complicated. She hates talking about her past so it’s not discussed unless she brings it up.

  She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. She sipped her latte and fumbled with the napkin, as though she was also trying to find a distraction from her own troubles.

  “Florida was great. I mean, it was my first vacation ever so I can’t complain, you know?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder again, which showed me that she was slightly uncomfortable with the topic.

  “I thought he invited me along to watch his little rugrats and be the nanny but they never asked me to babysit. Not one damn time.” She smiled more, but it still didn’t reach her eyes. She took another deep gulp of her coffee once she realized it was far from hot.

  “I’m glad to know I actually have a dad who cares for me, but it feels weird. They did their best to make me feel welcome but I still felt like a third wheel in their perfect lives. I feel like such a bitch for feeling that way. It’s not his fault he didn’t know about me, but I’m twenty-three now. He’s trying to persuade me to go back to college, blah blah. Oh, and they’re always talking in Spanish. I don’t know that much Spanish, and that just makes me feel even more… I don’t know. Whatever. I’m such a whiner.”

  Elyse spent eight years in foster care, and it’s a sore subject. She doesn’t talk about it. Her mom had developed a substance abuse problem and turned her own daughter over to the state when she was ten. She went from foster family to foster family, and wound up in a few detention centers along the way for delinquent behavior. She’s always had a difficult time making connections with people, and I’m the only friend she really has.