by Dani René
“Yes, I did play with your emotions, as well as Ahren’s,” Elian finally answers, bringing me back to the present. “I wanted to see if you could be swayed.”
“But he’s feeling guilty and wants your forgiveness,” Ahren finishes his brother’s sentence. “I won’t stand in your way, pretty girl,” Ahren tells me. “This is your choice. And I will respect it. As I said to you on Friday, all I ask is for a fair chance to be your friend, even if you choose Elian.” I find his honesty refreshing. His dark eyes simmer with affection, and even though we haven’t known each other that long, I’m almost certain he’s going to play a huge part in my life.
I turn to his brother. “Do you enjoy fucking around with people’s lives?” I ask Elian who’s watching intently. As angry as I am right now, I don’t walk out like I should. “Tell me something, and I want complete honesty.”
“Anything.” Elian waves his hand as if he’s not bothered by everything that’s transpired here today. “I will never lie to you.”
“Tell me, why me? Of all the girls in your class, you chose me. And why hurt your brother like this?” The thought of choosing one brother over the other makes my chest ache. It may be stupid, but I do like Ahren.
“Because when I look at you, you’re the only woman in my class I want to fuck so hard she doesn’t remember her name the next day,” Elian says with a nonchalant shrug. “Putting my job on the line for a woman is not something I take lightly. My brother is stronger than you can imagine. His hurt is only his ego. Nothing more. But my reason for doing what I did was to give you a chance with someone closer to your age, someone you can walk hand-in-hand down the street with. And I needed to know if this was merely a game to you.”
“But that’s not what she wants, Elian.” Ahren steps closer to me. His hand landing gently on my shoulder, and I glance into his dark stare. “I have to head out,” he tells me, then leans in to press his lips to my cheek. Before he pulls away, he whispers, “It’s okay. I promise you; he will be good to you. Just remember, you hold all the power.” He turns and heads for the door because he knows my choice before I voice it. “Brother.” He tips his head toward Elian before shutting us in the classroom alone.
I turn my gaze to Elian who’s watching me with those iridescent eyes. “I’m not here to play games, Mr. Donati.”
“Neither am I,” he tells me, closing the distance between us, and at full height, I have to tip my head back to look at him. “Now tell me honestly, since the choice is yours, who is it going to be?”
He stares at me for a long while. There can’t be any doubt in his mind anymore. He knows it’s him, but he wants to hear me say it. My heart thuds, beating in my ears, deafening me. I need to make a choice. Even though I know I want Elian more than anything, it’s the trust and affection in Ahren’s eyes that keep me from opening my mouth.
Elian is forbidden.
But I can break the rules once more.
Can’t I?
17
Ahren
Shrugging on my leather jacket, I make my way down the driveway to my bike. The apartment I’m renting has everything I need, and it also offers me solace from the town that’s always had its watchful eyes on me. I haven’t spoken to my brother or Arabella since yesterday afternoon, so I’m not sure what happened after I left. He hasn’t called me, so I figure they’re getting to know each other more intimately.
My choice to step back and allow Elian to be with Arabella doesn’t hurt me, but it does frustrate me because she’s fucking gorgeous. I want nothing more than to devour her whole, but I know she likes him. And I’m not a homewrecker.
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, and when I pull it out, I see the name of a man who’s offered me a chance at a job when I leave school. He’s one of the most talented tattoo artists out there, and if he wants me to be his apprentice, I’ll jump at the chance.
“Hey,” I answer, nerves already twisting my gut at the prospect of working for him full time once I’ve graduated.
“Ahren,” his deep voice barrels over the line. “I’m in town, and I wanted to know if you’d be up for a session tomorrow. I have a new client coming in, and she’s willing to let you do something small on her. Test the ink, so to speak,” he tells me.
“Yeah, of course.” I’m smiling from ear to ear, and I’m sure he can hear it. “Thanks, man. I look forward to it.”
“If you have any ideas, sketch them up and we can show her. I’m sure she’ll want something unique.” The fact that he’s allowing me to do this means a lot. Elian has always told me I will be able to live my dreams, to have the career I’ve always wanted, but even growing up in Miami with his family looking after me, I knew I had to make it on my own.
“Most definitely. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell Scar. We hang up, and I’m thinking about how fortunate I was to meet him. Back in Miami, I hung out at a small dive bar on the beach where the Fallen Saints MC would hang out. The Miami chapter allowed me to spend time with them, and when I met the guys from the Arizona chapter, I knew where my future was headed.
I haven’t yet told Elian I will definitely be patching in, but I know soon I’m going to have to come clean. The more time I spent with the guys, the more I realized that’s where I belong. When Scar told me that he had his own studio not far from Black Mountain, I asked him if I could pop in over a weekend to watch him work, to learn from him, and he agreed.
Even though he doesn’t head out to Black Mountain often, he called me up a few days ago and told me he’s coming to town on business. I don’t know his full story, but from what I gather, it’s not good. He once confided in me that he needed to find his own way, even if it was for a short time. And since he opened his own place, he’s been doing well.
With excitement rushing my veins, I hop on my bike and speed down to the gate, which slides open, allowing me out onto the road. First things first, I need to get to school.
When I walk up to the front door of the house, it whooshes open, and Elian steps out onto the porch. He’s dressed in casual slacks with a black tee that makes him look far younger than he is. But his gaze is haunted, worry creasing his expression.
“What’s up your ass?” I chuckle as I reach him.
“I’m concerned. I don’t know if this is a good idea or not, and Arabella will be here in thirty minutes,” he tells me, looking me over. I’ve always seen Elian as confident, commanding in any situation, but I can imagine taking a risk to be with her can be stressful.
I stop in front of him, looking directly at his worried expression. “Brother,” I say, “let’s go inside and talk.” I follow him in, and we head into the living room where he picks up the bourbon bottle and pours us both a shot.
I left Miami before he did. So, when Mr. Donati was shot, I was all the way over here in Black Mountain.
I remember the phone call. Elian’s cold, rigid voice telling me the old man was dead. He didn’t cry, never showed an ounce of emotion. We sat talking late into the night when we reminisced about Dad, but he never shed a tear. After a couple of days, I went home. I needed to be there for him.
And then he told me he was coming here, he bought a house in Black Mountain, and then, he shocked me by informing me he got a job teaching so he would be around if I needed him. He was hard on me since the day his dad told him I was officially a Donati. In name only, but it didn’t matter. Elian took it to heart. Giving me shit for my clothes, for my grades, but I knew he was only doing it to look out for me, and I appreciated every moment of it. Even though we don’t live together at the moment, he’s still my big brother.
He sets my drink on the table before turning to face the back garden. His back is to me, but I can tell from the way his shoulders tense he’s either really angry or just nervous.
“I want her, Ahren,” he admits but doesn’t look my way. I knew he would say that.
I pick up my drink and take a gulp before I ask, “Did she give you her answer?”
He shakes his head. “We we
re at a standoff. I didn’t want to do anything at school, so I told her to come here. It would be easier for us to talk openly. The rules—”
“Rules are meant to be broken,” I remind him of something he told me when we were younger. He taught me how to bend them, how to twist them until I was comfortable and could get what I wanted. And I must admit, it was good growing up with him.
“These rules could cost me my job.”
“A job you don’t need.” Once more, a reminder that he has more money than god, and if he wants her, why can’t he have her? He finally turns to me, the blue in his eyes sparking with frustration. I can’t help but grin. I’ve known Eli all my life, and this is new to him—having emotions, feelings, and actually admitting them.
“I tried to build a life without the bullshit of what I did in my past.” A stark reminder skitters down my spine, and I recall his ex. The woman he walked away from back in Miami. She was a fucking stunner.
“If you don’t take a chance, you’ll never know.”
“Life doesn’t wait for those who sit idly by,” he counters. He knows I’m right. Any guy can step up and take her away from him. It doesn’t matter how much women tell you they want you, there’s always a hint of doubt that niggles at your gut.
“What is it about her?”
“She’s … she’s broken, just like we are.” There’s a rawness to his words. I don’t know much about Arabella, we didn’t go into too much detail about her past the other night, and I know Elian has learned more than he’s told me.
“Are you trying to say your little angel isn’t as innocent as you’d like?” Even though I laugh it off because I can’t imagine her doing anything illegal, when Elian’s blue stare locks on mine, I realize there’s more to the story than I thought.
“Perhaps,” is all he tells me before pouring another shot of bourbon and downing it in one swallow. If it weren’t for Alistor waiting on me, I would spend more time here, delving into the life of the girl who’s so clearly caught his attention, but I have to go.
“I want to know the rest when I get back.” I set the glass down on the table before I step up to Elian. “I’m heading to Alistor’s, but tomorrow, I need to know what the fuck is going on.”
“It’s not my story to divulge,” he informs me with a shrug.
“Like fuck it isn’t. If this girl is coming into your home, if you’re going to be with her, I need to know what the fuck she’s hiding.” I don’t know why I’m so angry. Perhaps it’s time for me to look out for the man who’s always been by my side looking out for me. Or maybe I’m just concerned that Elian isn’t seeing straight.
“Her past wasn’t easy.”
“Is that an excuse you’re making for her?” I challenge, waiting for him to deny me. But he doesn’t. He merely stares at me as if I’ve just hit home. “What has she done?”
“I—” We’re interrupted by the door knocker hitting the heavy wood in the entrance foyer, and I realize I’m not getting the answers I want now. Elian’s gaze darts behind me, and I turn to find Arabella walking into the living room led by my foster brother’s maid who comes in here once a week.
“Mr. Donati, your guest is here.” The older woman nods and leaves us. My brother is such an idiot living in this place with a fucking maid. I mean, it’s not like it’s a massive mansion like some of them around town.
“Hi,” Arabella says, a shy smile tilting her pretty, plump lips. Her mouth is the perfect mix of seductive and sensual.
“Pretty girl,” I greet her. She’s dressed in a deep red top that hugs her figure with a casual sweater over it, tight black yoga pants, and a pair of boots. It’s a casual look, nothing about her screams temptress, but that’s what makes her so dangerous. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
I’m stunned at how understated her outfit is, but she still looks like the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I need to fight this strange need to look after her. She’s not mine. I agreed we could be friends, and I need to abide by my promise.
“Hi, Ahren.” She grins, and I can’t help but notice how the apples of her cheeks pinken. And for a brief moment, I wonder if she’s remembering our kiss.
I turn to Elian, my gaze locked on his, hoping he sees the silent message there. I need to know. “I’ll see you around,” I tell him before making my way past Arabella who smells like a strawberry field in summer. Fuck me. No wonder Elian is so entranced. She’s delicious.
But no woman is worth a shitstorm.
I’m almost certain the pretty girl with the stormy eyes is a torrent waiting to happen.
18
HIM
THE PRESENT
Darkness descends on the day, and I’m here with her. She’s alone tonight again, and I wonder briefly if he’ll come around. I know they’re better suited, but I can’t deny the pull I have toward her.
It’s in the shadows I find my craving for her burns brightest. Isn’t that what they say? You need the darkness to see the stars shining. Well she is that. A star—exquisite, unique, and utterly alluring. She moves her way through the house, the lights flickering on and off as she goes, and finally, she reaches her bedroom. The window overlooks the garden, and I have a bird’s-eye view of her beauty as she slowly tugs the tank top over her head.
The moment her tits are bared, my cock stirs against my zipper. The jeans I’m wearing are tight, but they only get tighter with her movements. Cascading blonde hair falls like a silk fountain. My fingers itch and tingle with need to tug them harshly until she whimpers with need.
She pulls the long strands into a ponytail before she slips on an almost-see-through nightdress. What I love about her is that she leaves her light on. She doesn’t realize her window is my work of art, my entertainment. She does cast a glance out into the dark garden, but she doesn’t see me. But she can most certainly feel my eyes on her.
When the yellow glow of the bulb finally goes to sleep, that’s when I silently slip through the darkness and make my way to the car. I wanted to stay, to wait until she’s asleep, but I have things to do and places to be. But soon enough, I’ll spend the night. I’ll lie beside her and watch her lashes flutter as she dreams.
I don’t know where this darkness inside me comes from, but it’s there, clawing at my insides, and the pretty blonde has only made it worse. As if a monster had been let loose and I no longer have control over my actions.
It’s a lie.
I’m in control.
But the rope is pulled taut, it’s close to snapping, and what happens after is anyone’s guess.
19
Arabella
“Sit,” Elian tells me in a tight grunt. The table is filled with textbooks and papers. He was clearly working on our essays before I arrived. My gaze takes in each name, but I don’t find mine. I’m guessing it’s hidden in the piles. “I read your paper,” he informs me, forcing my eyes to meet his.
I wasn’t expecting him to talk about school. Yesterday in the class, he said to meet him here where we can talk openly. Perhaps he’s slowly getting to why I’m really here.
I settle on the couch. The cool leather makes me shiver as I scoot back so I’m comfortable. I have a feeling I’m going to need to be for this conversation. “Is there something wrong with it?”
Elian walks over to the liquor cabinet, and for a moment, I think he’s going to offer me something to drink, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pours a glass of water and brings it to the table before setting it in front of me.
“I’m intrigued by your writing,” he tells me. “You have a real talent for storytelling.”
“Thank you.” I’m still not sure why he’s invited me here; he could’ve told me this in class. But instead of pointing that out, I pick up the glass of water and take a long sip.
“Granted, this could’ve been done in class, but I like having you all to myself,” he tells me, causing the water to choke me, and I splutter all over myself.
“What?” I croak, my gaze snapping to his.
&nbs
p; The amusement that creases his expression only annoys me. “I thought you’d like being all alone here with me.” He waves his hand in the air, but he doesn’t make a move to come closer to me. I’m thankful for that because I don’t know how I would’ve dealt with his overwhelming masculine scent and that stupid handsome face near me.
“I still don’t understand what I’m doing here talking about schoolwork?”
“The privacy allows us to talk about anything we want,” he tells me nonchalantly as he settles in the chair to watch my gawking response. “I spoke to Dawson, and he asked me to keep an eye on you because you suffered a great loss. I think you’re capable of an A in all your classes.” Elian leans forward with his arms on his thighs. “So, I think you need some private tutoring because even though you’re most certainly not a bad student, I would prefer taking a hands-on approach.” The salacious grin on his face explains why I’m here and why we’re talking about school. It’s the only way we’re going to keep this … relationship … a secret. “So, will you tell me your version of your story, or am I meant to believe what’s written in your student file?”
“My dad died two days after he and my mom told me they’re sending me out here. I was angry,” I tell him honestly. “Granted, I was never the easiest teenager. I did stupid shit to garner their attention, but for them to send me away hurt more than I ever considered.”
“All children are difficult or hard work. Parents aren’t meant to send their kids away,” he tells me earnestly. Pain flashes in his eyes, and I wonder if it’s for me or if he’s recalling something from his past.
“I lashed out. Did something I now regret. So, anything you think you’re doing to help me,” I inform him, pushing to my feet. “It’s not needed. I’m just like every other student. No special treatment is needed, and as I said before, and I will say again, I don’t expect to be treated with kid gloves.”