Torment (B.A.D. Inc Book 1)

by Angel Devlin

  “There was much more to you that I wanted to discover.”

  “Really?” she asks and I hate that she’s questioning how I feel for her but I guess I can’t really expect much else. “Don’t you mean you wanted to discover how best to ruin me?”

  “Mia,” I breathe, taking a step toward her but realising my mistake when she tenses once again. “I never set out to ruin you. It was all about him. Everything I told you about him is true. He’s fucking poison, and you’re better off without him.”

  “I can’t deny that. Mum doesn’t deserve that. By why like this, Deacon? Why did you have to do what you did?”

  “Revenge. Once I discovered who you were and how much I thought you meant to him.” A shudder runs through me at the thought of her being better, more worthy of his love and time, than me. “I knew that it would be the perfect way to prove he’s not the only one who can ruin families. I just didn't expect to…” I trail off, unsure if I can really voice out loud how I feel for her.

  “Didn’t expect to what, Deacon? You’ve done your worst, no harm in telling the truth now.”

  I sigh, staring into her green eyes. Eyes that have become so familiar to me. I hate that they’re harder in a way I’ve not seen before. I did that. I caused her to build her walls up so high that they’re visible. “I didn’t expect to… fall in love with you.” They’re the hardest words I’ve ever said in my life. Yes, I’ve said them to her before, but I thought it was all part of the act then. I refused to allow any emotion into them.

  It’s not until a laugh falls from her that I realise I shut my eyes. I stare at her as she laughs like she’s just heard something hilarious, not me laying my heart on the line for her.

  I stand before her, basically naked, inside and out, and all she does is laugh. My heart shatters all over again as reality hits. I can have as many positive thoughts as I want about her forgiving me, but standing here right now, I know it’s never going to happen; no matter how much I bleed before her.

  She stops and stares at me. “Do you know the saddest thing about all of this?” She doesn’t allow me time to try to find an answer, instead she just continues. “Even after everything, I still love you too.” Her admission has my breath catching. But although she’s saying the words, I’m under no illusion she wants to continue where we left off. “But unfortunately, I’m not sure I can ever forgive you for not just being honest with me.

  “I was advised to come here and put you out of your misery so you could continue with your life. Well, this is me doing just that. We’re done, Deacon.”

  With that said, she turns and sees herself out of my penthouse, and probably my life.

  I stumble back and fall down onto the sofa. If it didn’t hurt so much, I’d think I just imagined the whole thing.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Mia

  I get back into the rear of the car and the driver asks me where I want to go next. The honest answer is I have no fucking clue. As I take a moment to catch my breath after seeing Deacon, I realise that I just need some time completely alone.

  “Can you take me to The Waldorf please?” I tell him.

  I book myself a suite. I don’t know how long I’ll stay here, possibly only an hour, but I need time to think. I spot the ‘Press for Champagne’ button in the bedroom and decide that seems like a plan. Before long a bottle is delivered to the door. I welcome the bubbles on my tongue as I lie on the bed and rest against the headboard. I close my eyes thinking about the mess I found in Deacon’s home.

  A sick, satisfied part of me is glad he’s not doing well.

  I didn’t expect to… fall in love with you.

  Those words, as heartbreaking as they were falling from his lips, given before I ended us, confirmed to me my hopes, that it hadn’t all been a lie. That Deacon King wasn’t as I feared, an actor worthy of an Oscar, but that somehow in the middle of his games, he’d got caught in his own web.

  But how could I forgive him for what he’d done to me? Setting me up and sacrificing me to the press. Putting Mum back on the tabloids’ front pages.

  He did you a favour. He got Giles out of your life.

  My mind, my body, want to forgive him. I crave his touch and the more champagne I drink, the more I want him. I need a distraction. I send Karla a text.

  You want to talk? I’m in The Astor Suite at the Waldorf. I’d get here soon because I might not be able to talk after much more of this champagne.

  I get a reply back more or less straightaway.

  Karla: Save me some. I’m on my way.

  When she arrives it’s with strawberries and Belgian chocolate dipping sauce. She places them on a side table near the entrance. For a moment we stand there awkwardly and then she throws her arms around me.

  “I missed you, bestie.”

  “I missed you too.” I feel my shoulders loosen as we hug it out.

  “Mia, I’m so sorry. I realise I’ve been a self-centred bitch. Well, actually, I didn’t realise, Liberty told me straight. She was right though.”

  “Well I haven’t been much better, lying to you like I have.”

  “Let’s promise to do better, hey?”

  “Sounds good to me.” I smile.

  Grabbing the strawberries she gets on the bed and places the tray in the middle. I pour and pass her a glass of champagne climbing back on my own side.

  “I’m sorry about your stepdad, Mia.”

  I take another big hit of my drink. “Karla, I still can’t believe it all. I feel like I’m dreaming. My stepdad who I thought adored me was a pathological liar. He has at least another two families. My mother is heartbroken but at the same time glad she’s found out now. What if she’d married him? He could have ruined her. The press say he has horrendous debts.”

  “And you believe the press, do you? After what they’ve said about you?” Karla arches a perfectly made up brow. I snigger inwardly as I think about what would happen if I posted a selfie now, with my puffy eyes and wearing the fatigue of my current life on my face.

  “I am so very sorry that I didn’t tell you about what was happening with Deacon.”

  “I’m sorry too. This whole thing has made me think. Really think, and the fact you couldn’t confide in me, well, I realise that’s because I acted like a spoiled brat. Right from the off when I turned up at your meeting with him. I could see then he was interested in you and I tried to sabotage it because I wanted him for myself. I guess I got what I deserved.”

  I shook my head. “You didn’t deserve my lies. You’re my best friend. I should have told you the truth. It may have been awkward, but we’d have got past it.”

  “I genuinely like Roscoe, you know? It’s not just for the show or the press. He’s fun. I’m not sure it will go anywhere as he’s destined for great things, but there’s a lot to be said for having fun.”

  “I’m glad. You deserve to be treated nicely and to have a good time.” I put my hand on Karla’s and squeeze.

  “And what about you? What do you deserve?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know what I want. I was all about the make-up contract and being independent and now I feel like I want to disappear off the face of the earth.”

  “You need to talk to an agent. One who specialises in these kinds of infamy. Though the bad girl angle in Fully Loaded was a triumph.”

  I huff. “Tell that to Jack Chambers.” I tell her about our meeting.

  “That’s on Deacon. They can’t just expect everyone to take his shit. He fucked up big time.” She stares at me for a beat longer than necessary. “You heard from him?”

  “I just came back from seeing him,” I confess. “He’s a mess. Drunk. Has smashed up his own flat. Said he didn’t expect to fall in love with me.”

  Karla’s lips part. “Fuck.”

  “I ended things. Jack told me to make things clear to him. So I did.”

  She tilts her head. “Mia. I know you. I’ve known you for many years. You love him, don’t you?”


  One lone tear slips down my cheek. “I do. But what he did.” I shake my head again. “He’s a bad man.”

  Karla laughs. “You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” She winks.

  “You know as well as I do that my bad girl persona is all an act.”

  “Yeah, well maybe Deacon’s is too? He’s been screwed up by life. How much of it is the truth? You’ve been seeing him. Deep down who is he; who is Deacon King? And do you want to try to get the guy, or have you really drawn a line under it all?”

  Another loud sigh escapes my mouth.

  “I’ve no fucking idea, Karla. Want a top up?”

  “Can I ask you another question?” Karla asks me a little later, after we’ve chatted about the past few weeks further and cleared the air.

  “Yeah.”

  “Your law stuff. Your studying? Why are you doing it?”

  “You know why. It stops me from feeling like a rich airhead. Though I’m seriously behind with it all from behaving like a rich airhead.”

  “But do you enjoy it? Could you see law in your future at all? What does Mia Hamilton really want?”

  “I want to feel like I’m on this planet for a reason. Not just pitching from day to day spending my time in spas and restaurants or with a personal shopper.” My stomach flurries with excitement as I begin to consider a different future.

  “Karla?” I look to find she’s resting against the pillow with her eyes closed, and chocolate smudged on her lip.

  “Uh huh?”

  “Maybe if I passed the bar I could work pro-bono cases? It’s not like I need the money is it?”

  She opens her eyes.

  “I do believe the bad girl is getting her groove back,” she says. “Now you just have to decide what you’re doing about Deacon King, and whether he is indeed part of your past.” She gets up from the bed. “I’m going to leave you to it. Stay here and work out your future, babe. I’m at our place when you get back and I kicked Liberty out by the way. That’s why I believe she gave me a few hard truths as the door smacked her arse on her way out. I told Tara that they could hire an apartment for a second series if they wanted me to be part of it. We were naïve starting this, Mia. The contracts that meant they could bring back exes and play with our lives. If that’s what ‘reality’ is, I don’t want it. So if they want me back, it’s being done my way now, and that’s not having to put up with Liberty ‘I love myself’ Parker.”

  Coming around my side of the bed, she air-kisses me on both cheeks. “I hope everything works out for you, Mia. I really do. Love you, sister.”

  I give her a massive hug. “Love you too, babe. And I promise, I’ll always be upfront about everything from now on.”

  Karla leaves me to my room. I drink more champagne. By now, I can barely say my own name, but I manage to send a text. A text the sober me would never have sent.

  Mia: How come I ended things, but I can’t stop thinking about you?

  I close my eyes and drift off to sleep. When I wake my phone has blown up with messages from Deacon.

  Don’t end this Mia. Take your words back. I need you.

  Mia, please. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.

  I need to see you. Where are you?

  Mia. Don’t ignore me. It’s killing me.

  I love you. I fucking love you.

  I begin typing into the phone.

  I’m in the Astor Suite at the Waldorf.

  The reply is back in mere seconds.

  I’m on my way.

  His knock when it comes sounds like it’s going to take the door off. I run towards it and fling it open.

  He’s panting at the other side. He’s clearly run here.

  I stand aside to let him in.

  His deep blue eyes are full of yearning. Dark shadows hang underneath like storm clouds. He rubs his bristled chin. I want to feel the chafe of it against my thighs. His hand scrubs through his hair.

  Then he walks over to the wall and punches it, an uncontrolled roar tearing from his lips.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I shout.

  He turns back to me, tears in his eyes and he falls to his knees at my feet. His arms coming around my legs. His breath hitches.

  “I ruined everything, and for what? He’s still out there and unless I pay him, he’ll never leave my mother alone. She’ll always put him first.” His arms hang limply at his sides. “Why am I not good enough to be loved enough, Mia? To be put first. Why?”

  I drop to my knees alongside him. I press my cheek against his cheek, feeling the dampness, the tears, the surrender to the darkness of this beautiful, broken man. “But you are good enough to be loved, Deacon. Because despite everything you’ve done to me, I love you.”

  He lifts his head up and looks into my eyes. “You won’t love me when you know the truth.”

  “What truth? What else could you possibly have done?”

  “I’ve been responsible for people dying, Mia. Can you truly love someone who has made sure people’s lives have ended and wanted to dance on their graves?”

  “W- what do you mean?” Chills run up my back. He can’t be a murderer. He can’t be.

  “Scott’s ex. Belle’s mother. She was a junkie. She threatened to take Belle away from Scott. Belle would have faced a life with no prospects. I got someone to supply her with enough drugs that she’d overdose.”

  I gasp.

  “That’s who I am. And I’d do it all again. Belle is safe now. With my brother. And I love her more than I ever thought it was possible to love. She was the first good thing to come into my life, and I feel like she paved the way for me to love you. But that’s what I’m capable of. And this darkness inside me. You know what it does to me. I like it dark and I like it rough and I want to fuck you so damn bad right now.”

  I seem to have lost all reason. Deacon King is the King of Darkness.

  And I crave him.

  “Fuck me, Deacon,” I tell him.

  And then I gasp as he grabs me by the throat.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Deacon

  I don’t feel any better as I walk away from the suite Mia had booked herself into. She told me she still loved me, even after everything. But that can’t possibly be the truth. I almost singlehandedly ruined everything she’d been working towards, along with her family. Of course she and her mum are better off without that lying cunt in their lives, but she can’t love me still. She just can’t.

  I reach for the bottle the second I’m back in my own penthouse. I smell like sex and Mia, and like fuck am I washing that away yet, but I need to drown everything out about tonight. Nothing good can come of any of it and I need to stop allowing myself to think any of her words mean more than they do. She’s probably just playing her own game to get back at me. She’s already seen a side of me that no one else ever has. If she’s clever she’ll have rigged that apartment with cameras and microphones and will have captured me at my weakest. Although sharing that with the world would barely scratch the surface of what I’ve done to her.

  I fall onto my bed after stripping my clothes off. I regret ever stepping out of my flat tonight but the second my phone lit up with her name it was like she was calling out to me. If she didn’t tell me where she was, I’m pretty sure I’d have tracked her down somehow because how she left things between us wasn’t sitting right with me, that’s for fucking sure.

  I tip the bottle to my lips, managing to miss. The whiskey I so desperately want to wash everything away soaks into my bed.

  I eventually pass out, the blackness consumes me and everything falls away.

  The knocking of my front door brings me back to reality. I almost ignore it but assuming it’ll be the guys, I reluctantly roll out of bed and stumble my way towards the insistent banging so they know I’m still alive. Only, when I pull the door open, the two men standing before me are two I don’t recognise, although their uniforms are sure familiar.

  “Mr. King, we’re arresting you on the suspicion of murder. You do not have to
say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

  “I’m sorry, what? I think you must have made a mistake. I don’t even know anyone who’s died.” It’s obvious from my slurred voice that I’ve been drinking and I can’t help wishing I was of sounder mind to deal with this.

  My heart pounds as a memory of seeing Mia pops into my head. Oh fuck, no, please no.

  The police officers none too gently push their way inside my flat, looking around with their lips curled in disgust. If I was sober and saw the state of the place I’d probably have the same look on my face. As it is though, I really don’t give a shit.

  “Put some clothes on,” the slightly older and fatter of the two barks at me, pushing me in the direction of my bedroom.

  “Wh- what?”

  “I suggest you shut your fucking mouth until you get to the station.” They both share a look. Great, they already think I’m guilty.

  Nothing more is said as I tug on a pair of joggers and the first t-shirt I find. It stinks of stale sweat, whiskey, and Mia. My heart aches as I think of her.

  Please let her be okay, I silently beg.

  I’d pull out some clean clothes, but as they stand impatiently waiting for me, I don’t feel like I've got time to grab my best suit from the wardrobe.

  The second I’m decent, the younger guy forces my hands behind my back and slaps the cuffs on me.

  This isn’t my first rodeo with cops, but it’s certainly the least pleasant of the ones I can remember.

  They march me down to their car. My neighbours who vacate the lift as we enter, have a field day as they realise it’s me. I can only hope they’re the kind to keep this kind of shit to themselves. I don’t want it getting leaked before I know what the fuck’s going on and my solicitor is beside me.

  My heart continues to pound out of my chest as I sit in the back of the car, heading for the station.