by Tia Siren
The look in Ava’s eyes when she told me about my father had been so pure and unaltered. She had thought I was in on it, and when I showed her I had no idea what she was talking about, she’d seemed to ease up a bit. Still, the thought was planted in my mind, and I was having a hard time letting go of my father possibly ruining a man’s life because I’d slept with his daughter. I knew my father was an asshole, and I knew he wanted me to not see Ava in a romantic way, but to do something like that was beyond reprehensible. I never thought my father would stoop to a level that low, but as I watched him laugh with Overly, I was starting to doubt my own instincts.
What if he had done that? What if he had taken down Spencer Hotels for no other reason than to spite me and Ava? That would mean I was responsible for everything that had happened in Ava’s life for the last ten years. I rubbed my hands over my face and downed my glass of wine before setting my napkin on my plate. My mother looked over at me as I quietly pushed back my chair.
“I need some air,” I said. “I’m going to step outside for a couple minutes.”
“That sounds amazing,” she whispered. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” I smiled, giving her my hand and helping her up.
No one even noticed that we got up and walked away from the table, which was par for the course in our lives, especially my mother’s. She stood there every day dealing with that life, and I still didn’t know how she did it. We made our way outside and walked down the block a little ways. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to get the sound of their pious laughter out of my head.
“You seem stressed,” my mother said, rubbing my arm. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “No—yes—I don’t know. I’ll be okay. I just have a lot on my mind right now, and that dinner isn’t helping anything.”
“You’ve been strong-willed your whole life,” she said. “You know that even though you are an adult living your life every day on your own, you’re still my son.”
“I know,” I said, smiling at her.
“And being my son, you can talk to me about anything,” she said. “That hasn’t changed, even if you’re four feet taller and sporting a clean-shaven face.”
I looked at my mom and smiled, remembering how close we used to be. My father was a tyrant, and we had latched on to each other to make it through each day when I was younger. I felt a little guilty for leaving her behind, but at the same time, I knew I couldn’t talk to her about Ava and what she’d told me. I didn’t believe my mother could be involved in something like that, but I didn’t want to take the chance, and I didn’t want to upset her in any way.
“Thank you,” I said. “It’s just a girl—a girl I can’t figure out to save my life. Why do women have to be so complicated?”
“What would you men do if you never had to think about women?” She laughed. “I haven’t heard you talk about a girl since you were a teenager. I’ve been hoping you would find someone, but I knew with your stubbornness, it would be a while.”
I laughed. “I still don’t think I’ve found anyone.”
“Look, everyone likes to complicate love,” she said. “In the end, though, if a girl is right for you and you for her, it will work itself out. Love has a way of doing that. Things always work out in the end, even if you don’t see any light at the end of the tunnel. Give it time. You’re young.”
“I don’t know if it will this time.”
“I am always so proud of you.” She smiled. “You’ve grown into such an amazing man. I know it’s not easy for you to work with your father, especially since you have your own ambitions and dreams, but I’m so grateful that you do it anyway, pushing through the hard times. Your father is a hard man to understand—I know, as I’ve been with him a long time—but you’re doing good.”
“Sometimes I want to scream and run away from him,” I said. “I want to move out of the penthouse and just disappear. But then, for some reason, I go to the next meeting, the next golf match, or the next incredibly boring business dinner. Maybe it’s family obligation; maybe it’s me hoping Dad will lighten up and become a human being. Mostly I think it’s for you. I don’t want to cause you any more grief than you’ve already been through.”
“And I appreciate everything you do,” she said. “Just remember that one day, you’ll have to make decisions based on what’s best for you. Now, I’m going to go back inside before he realizes I’m gone.”
“Okay.” I kissed her on the cheek.
I watched my mother walk back to the restaurant and take a deep breath before walking inside. That conversation really didn’t make me feel a whole lot better than before. If nothing else, it made me more inclined to keep what Ava had said buried deep in my mind. If my mother knew about this, if she found out what my father had done, it would break her heart. My father made life miserable for everyone. He made sure we were on the path he wanted us to be on, whether it was the right path or not. He made my mother take the brunt of every one of his bad or selfish decisions, yet she stayed, standing by him no matter what. As every second passed, I grew angrier and angrier with my father. He was the destroyer of beautiful things, and that was starting to become clear to me. I needed to know the truth about Ava and her family. I couldn’t sit by and let this eat at me for the rest of my life.
Chapter 12
Ava
It was Saturday night, and though I really just wanted to sit at home replaying the meeting with Mason over and over in my head, I knew that wouldn’t be good for me. Blair had called me earlier and told me she wanted to go out that night, and I figured, why not? If nothing else, I would get to spend some much-needed quality time with her away from the books, and she might even have some good advice for me about what had happened. She picked me up at seven, and we went out to the local pub, not wanting to deal with the people down in Manhattan. We walked into the bar and took two seats in the middle that were open.
“I’ll have a vodka cranberry,” she said to the bartender.
“Make that two,” I said, smiling.
“Uh-oh. Someone’s getting wild tonight.”
“I need a drink after everything with Mason.”
“What happened?” Excitement flared in her eyes, and I got an amusing sense that my life had taken on a soap-opera quality for her.
“He booked me on a photo shoot with my agency,” I said. “I was really given no choice because he told my agent he’d take his business elsewhere if he couldn’t have me. So I went, and it was all a ruse to get me there to talk.”
“Did you talk?”
“More like argued and pointed fingers the whole time,” I said. “And I feel terrible for taking that money. I know it came from his father’s company.”
“How much did he pay you?” she asked. “You can always give it back. And if you’ve used it, I can help.”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “He paid me twenty-four thousand dollars.”
She sputtered and nearly choked on her drink. “What? Holy shit.”
I sighed. “I know. I knew how much my parents needed the money and how much I would need it for the upcoming semester. It was like dangling a carrot in front of a starving donkey.”
“Wait. Are you the donkey?”
I groaned. “I sure feel like an ass.”
“You did it for your parents, and really, it’s kind of poetic since the money will also go to the degree that will help you take down his parents,” she said, and laughed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, but your life is so insane sometimes, and you would never guess it by looking at you.”
“I know,” I said, laying my head on the bar. “It was the best-paying modeling gig I have ever gotten, and I didn’t even do any modeling. We met at some older place on Eighth, and when I walked in, he had a table with dinner set up. He acted like I was insane for saying his father did what he did.”
“Do you think he was lying?”
“No,” I said. “I think he had no idea about the wh
ole thing. I think his parents or his father shielded him from it so it wouldn’t be some huge, terrible thing between the two of them.”
“How long did you guys talk?”
“I don’t know. Maybe an hour, maybe less,” I said.
“Were there any sparks between the two of you?”
“No,” I said. “Not unless you mean the kind that could light a bomb. We argued the whole time, blaming each other’s parents for the huge feud. When I had heard enough, I got up, asked to be paid, and then left. To make matters worse, he gave me a check for the whole amount. He paid my agency fees for me so I could have the whole thing. Who has that kind of money just floating around?”
“The son of one of the richest men in the country,” Blair said. “It’s like pocket change for them—seriously. He probably spends that much on a weekend out. You should not feel guilty for taking that money. His father owes you that and a hell of a lot more.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But Mason doesn’t. He’s as innocent in this whole thing as I am.”
“No,” Blair said. “You know that’s bullshit.”
“You’re right,” I said, putting my fists on the bar. “It’s the whole York legacy. It’s like a damn disease.”
I was totally lying to my best friend at every turn. I knew Mason didn’t have any “disease” just because he was his father’s son. If he didn’t know anything about it, he couldn’t have been involved in letting it happen, but that didn’t make me feel any better. Deep down inside there was a part of me that still desired him. Even sitting there across the table from him, mad as hell, part of me had wanted to leap into his arms like we were teenagers again. He was incredibly handsome, and I knew his heart—at least his heart when we were eighteen. People could change for the worse—I had seen it—but I struggled to see it in him.
What I really needed to do was stop sitting there feeling sorry for myself and for Mason and pull myself up by the bootstraps. I had taken the gig. I couldn’t take that back. I had also told him what he needed to know, whether he believed it or not. From there on out, I had to focus on my goal. I needed to push all these sad, pitiful thoughts out of my head. I had to go back to seeing him the way I did before. This was no game, and I needed to remember that. Like it or not, Mason was a York, and the Yorks were my enemies. I had spent ten years trying to forget Mason even existed, trying to forget the relationship we’d had a long time ago. It felt like a lifetime ago, and that was where it needed to stay.
Mason had been right about one thing: There was no reason to sit here and bury myself in the past even though my future was rooted in it. I didn’t want to think about Mason like the handsome, sweet teenager I had given my heart to so many years before. I didn’t want to see the innocence in his eyes like I had when I’d told him about his father the other night. I didn’t want to sink back into habits I had burned away years before.
“Do you ever think things could be different between you and Mason?” Blair asked. “Like you found that lost person you never thought you would see again?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I have to keep being angry with him, hating him and his name. That is what motivates me every day. He could very well be playing me, and if he is, the first thing he would want me to do is forget about how his family ruined my family. I have to stay the course and move forward, driving toward the same goal I’ve always had: to take down the York family and everything they stand for.”
“You’re scary when you’re motivated,” she said, but her chuckle lightened her words.
“Good. They need to be scared.”
“All right, Rambo. Before you go taking down one of the most powerful families in the country, let’s go dance.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me out to the dance floor.
I drank my drinks and let myself fall into the night. We laughed, we got drunk, and we danced our asses off. A copious number of men hit on us every five seconds. It was a really fun evening, and I felt good for about three hours. Then Blair met this guy on the dance floor that I thought looked like a total tool, but she seemed into him. She danced off into the lights with him, and I waved at her, making my way back to the bar for another drink. I sat down and wiped my forehead with a napkin before ordering another round.
“Those were some sweet moves,” said a guy standing next to me.
I laughed. “Thanks. I’m a regular dancing queen.”
“I’m Hank,” he said. “Can I buy you that drink?”
“Sure.”
“This is my first time here.” He pulled a stool next to me and sat. “I don’t usually go out like this, but my buddy pulled me out here.”
“It’s a cool spot, but I don’t come out a lot either.”
Hank was nice, sweet, and had an incredibly charming smile, but I found myself pulling back. It was incredibly frustrating that I couldn’t even talk to another man without Mason coming into my mind. It made me push myself even harder to be interested in this guy. It was like I was being spiteful, but Mason would never know. I sat there talking to Hank for a while, learning about what he did for a living, talking about my school and my plans outside taking down the York family. It was a good conversation, and Hank seemed like a great guy.
“My family is from New Hampshire,” he said. “New York was a really big change for me.”
“I’m sure it was,” I said. “I grew up here.”
“That must have been an interesting childhood, going to school in the city, growing up in this place,” he said. “I don’t know if I would have survived it.”
“Sure you would have,” I said.
“If you’d excuse me for just a minute, I have to use the restroom,” he said.
“Of course,” I said, smiling as he walked away.
When he was out of view, I sat thinking about how that whole conversation was pointless because I couldn’t get Mason out of my brain. I shook my head and grabbed my purse. On my way to find Blair, I ran into her. She was sweating and grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the door.
“I’m glad you look like you’re ready to go because that guy I was dancing with turned really weird,” she said. “Oh, wait. What about the guy I saw you talking to?”
“I’m ready to go,” I said, following her outside and onto the sidewalk.
“Was he weird?”
“No. Not at all. He was genuinely nice, was from New Hampshire, had a great smile and wonderful manners.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t feel like company tonight, and I’ve had a really long two days.”
“All right,” she said happily. “Let’s go home.”
I put Blair in a cab and waved as she rode off, having decided to walk back to my apartment. It was only a few blocks away, and I needed the air to clear my thoughts. I knew Blair didn’t believe me, not even in the slightest. She’d known me too long to believe I would walk away from someone who was probably the only nice guy in New York because I was too tired for company. She’d let it go, though, and I was grateful for that. I didn’t want to talk to her about Mason or the confusion that was going on in my brain. I just wanted time to clear my head and move forward.
As I walked, though, I thought about the time Mason and I had gone to Brooklyn to explore when we were teenagers. We’d gotten so lost, but we hadn’t cared. It had gave us an excuse to sneak off somewhere and make out. I climbed the stairs to my apartment complex thinking about that day and laughing to myself. I got into my tiny Brooklyn apartment and flung my shoes. I put on some pj’s and climbed into bed, wrapping up in my blankets. My eyes closed as soon as my head hit the pillow, and I fell into a dream world where Mason was back in my life and everything was how I’d thought it would be when I was eighteen years old.
Chapter 13
Mason
I sat up straight in my bed, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down my forehead. I grabbed my phone and looked at the temperature settings of the house. They hadn’t changed. I was just
sweating so much from the dream I’d woken up from so suddenly. I wiped my hand over my face and looked at the clock. It was six in the morning. I groaned and leaned back against the headboard, thinking about what I’d imagined. It had been one hell of a sex dream, and Ava was the girl on the receiving end of everything.
I hadn’t ever had a dream that intense in my entire life. I ran my hand across my lap, and I flinched. I had an extremely sensitive hard-on, the kind that almost hurt from being so hard. I groaned and tried to change my thoughts to something else, but flashes of Ava’s naked body kept intruding. The dream had been so real. I swore I could still smell her cherry and vanilla body spray in my room, which somewhere she had never been before. It felt like she had been right here, riding my cock the whole time.
I let out a deep breath and tapped my head against the headboard. Everything, every second of it, had been a dream. There was only one way I was going to rid myself of that solid of a hard-on, and that was by jacking off. I pulled myself from the bed and walked into the bathroom to turn on the shower. I stared at myself in the mirror for a minute, deciding it was time I started working out every day again. I grabbed my shaft and squeezed, trying to relieve some of the pressure. I wished Ava was there right then, ready and willing for me to give it to her, but she wasn’t. I was going to have to make do and use the hot steam from the shower and my imagination to get this backup released. I climbed into the shower and shut the doors, leaning forward with one hand against the wall while the hot water ran over my head and down my body.
Of all the things to wake up to on a Sunday morning, I guessed this was up there on the list. I could have gone for a little later than six in the morning, but even in my dreams, Ava was giving me a hard time. I smiled, thinking about her fire and whit and how different—in a good way—she was from when we were kids. She had no problem telling me exactly how it was, and apparently I had no problem giving it to her hard and fast—at least in my dream. I gripped my cock tightly as I closed my eyes and thought about her rolling around on that bed the first time I’d seen her in over ten years, her big, perfect tits pushing against the fabric of her sheer nightgown. That day was unlike any other day, and now in my mind, I could do exactly what I’d wanted to do to her then.