by Keri Lake
“She was also there for me more times. Before the drugs.”
“You’re a goddamn saint.” Tromping back through the living room, I find my mother sitting on the edge of the couch, rubbing her hands together.
“Hey, baby. How you been?”
Ignoring her question, I swipe up my duffle bag and grimace, disgusted by the raspy tone of her voice and the spacy look in her eyes. “I’m staying at Kel’s tonight!” I call out to Aunt Midge as I head toward the door.
“Isa, wait!” Aunt Midge calls after me, throwing her hands up in the air. “I had tacos planned for dinner!”
“I’m sure they’ll get eaten.” Ire coursing through my blood, I push through the door.
The moment fresh air hits my face, tears well in my eyes, and the sidewalk blurs behind the watery shield. It isn’t the first time my mother has come looking for a handout. A few months back, she managed to scam fifty bucks from Aunt Midge, leaving us short for the electricity bill, and the time before that, it was the wedding ring Uncle Hal gave her. Granted, it didn’t mean much to my aunt, but we certainly could’ve used the cash my mother undoubtedly hocked for it. Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a sibling that I can’t seem to understand my aunt’s sympathy toward her. I can’t imagine loving something so much after being fucked over that many times. Just seems like, at some point, it’s not worth the trouble.
The walk to Kelsey’s is about fifteen minutes, and I can already feel the calm returning. In high school, I didn’t have many friends, except Kelsey Donovan. Like me, she always had a sincere love for music, which is how we first met. I had earbuds in, with Arctic Monkeys blasting at full volume, when she first strolled up to ask what I was listening to. From then on, a friendship blossomed. Only, unlike me, she was a hell of a lot more popular with the other kids at school. Even after the whole incident with Aeden and Brady. In fact, as odd as it was, when the rest of the school shunned me, Kelsey and I grew closer.
Which probably saved me in the end.
It’s something I hate thinking about, but sometimes, when I look in the mirror, it sneaks up on me. Especially when I see the cuts, the evidence of how much that night messed with my head.
Always reminding me that I will never be like them. I’ll never belong.
Which is exactly why I took the job at the Blackthornes. The minute I have enough to ditch this island, I’m out of here.
The obnoxious blare of a horn interrupts my thoughts, and I jump back as a car speeds past. I recognize the Jeep as belonging to some of Brady’s old football buddies. Likely home on summer break from college.
It’s been months since I’ve had to deal with their torment, and I dreaded the thought of running into them--him--over the summer.
“Fucking psycho!” one of the boys shouts, and something knocks me in the head, spilling liquid down onto my new shirt.
Exhaling a gasp, I stare down at myself, where dark splashes of Coke dot my white shirt, the red can lying on the ground in a dark pool of bubbly soda.
“Touchdown!” they shout over the squeal of tires as they take off down the road.
A sob tugs at my chest, but I swallow it back. I prod the throbbing ache at my temple where the can hit, and more tears sting the rims of my eyes. “Fuck you,” I whisper, and keep on to Kelsey’s.
“That’s not coming out.”
Mrs. Donovan holds up my stained shirt, as I sit on Kelsey’s bed in one of her T-shirts. My best friend lies cuddled up to me, her arm stretched across my stomach. For the last hour, she’s tried to comfort me, after I showed up to her house distraught and teary-eyed.
“Such a shame, too,” she continues. “This is an Ulla Johnson.”
“I don’t know what that means.” I slide my gaze to Kelsey, who shakes her head, rolling her eyes.
“My mom’s planning a trip to New York next weekend,” she says, pushing up to sit beside me. “She’s trying to up her fashion game by memorizing all the designers.”
“One doesn’t venture to the fashion capital of the country looking like she came from a fishing town.”
Shaking her head, Kelsey sighs. “But you did mom.”
“Anyway, how the hell did you afford this, Isa? This shirt probably cost about three-hundred. Easy.”
Nausea twists in my stomach, and I cup my face in my palms. “Three hundred? Are you serious?” Bending forward, I clutch my gut, while the threat of puke tickles the back of my throat. “Shit.”
“Izzy is working for the Blackthornes.” Kelsey strokes my back, while I sit with my head between my knees, trying to calm my breathing. “They bought her an entire wardrobe.”
“You’re kidding me.” Wearing a frown, her mother sets the shirt down on the bed. “Aunt Midge let you do this?”
“I didn’t really ask permission.”
“Dina!” A familiar voice calls from another room, one I recognize as Tracey’s, Mrs. Donovan’s best friend who practically lives here.
“In here, Trace!” Mrs. Donovan calls over her shoulder, before directing her attention back on me. “Be careful, okay? You know what they say about crossing a Blackthorne.”
“What about the Blackthornes?” Tracey stands in the doorway with a bag of popcorn clutched to her chest. She tosses a couple into her mouth and saunters into the room. At forty-five, she’s not bad looking. Sandy brown hair that she pulls back into a messy bun on top of her head. Pale blue eyes, and a decent figure despite having had a few kids. The wrinkles and bad skin from years of sunbathing make her look older, though.
“Isa has taken a job, working for them.”
“No shit?” Face alight with fascination, she sits down on the bed beside us and offers some popcorn. “Do you stay at the castle?”
I nod in response to her question and decline the popcorn. With the sickness still twisting my guts, I can’t even begin to think of eating anything. Hopefully, Aunt Midge will have something that can remove the stains.
“To stay in a castle! Like a princess.” Tracey bites her lip, her eyes sparkling all of a sudden. “What’s he like these days? Lucian.”
“These days? As opposed to what?” Kelsey reaches into the proffered bag, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
“As opposed to ten years ago when I hooked up with him.”
What?
I’m guessing she didn’t look quite as aged back then, but the woman is still about thirteen years older than him.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Mrs. Donovan tips her head to get her friends attention. “Tell me you’re kidding. You never told me you hooked up with the Devil of Bonesalt.”
“Devil is right.” Tracey snorts, shoving more popcorn into her mouth.
“C’mon, there are teenagers present.”
Groaning, Kelsey rolls her eyes. “Adults, mother. Tell us what happened, Aunt Trace.” She sits back beside me, crossing her legs like we’re about to hear a riveting tale. “And don’t skip out on the details.”
“Kels.” I shake my head, the news of her hookup only stoking the gurgling sensation in my gut.
“Well, we’re at Tom Garrison’s house for a party, right?”
“Tom Garrison? Tom Garrison?” Hands at her hips, Mrs. Donovan stares down at Tracey like the name is one we’re all supposed to know and loathe, as she apparently does, given the expression of disgust on her face. “Had I known you hung around that crowd, I’d have ended our friendship. The guy was the biggest man-whore I’ve ever known.”
“True. But Lucian and some of his college buddies show up. We’re all drinking, getting high at a bonfire on the beach. Lucian is looking fucking delicious as all get out.” She licks her lips and smiles, sending a sinking feeling through my chest. “Anyway, the guys get this brilliant idea to race bikes. And of course, Lucian wins, despite being drunk as a skunk.”
Memories of two nights ago slip behind my eyes, recalling him standing on the edge of the roof, drunk as a skunk, and what little care he gave for preserving his life. Sounds about right.
/> “So, being the bike aficionado that I am ...”
“Oh, like hell you are,” Mrs. Donovan interrupts, shoving her hand into the popcorn bag. “You probably asked him all these questions about his bike, and you couldn’t give two shits about riding.”
Tracey’s grin stretches wider. “You’re absolutely right, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I mean, this guy looked like a goddamn rock star. And the way women flirted with him? I just couldn’t stand the idea of not approaching him. So we talk for a few minutes. He decides to give me a ride on his bike after, and before I know it, we’re going about a hundred-thirty on the highway.”
“Tracey! Are you nuts?” Mrs. Donovan slaps her, shaking her head. “You girls better not do something so stupid.”
“It was … fucking awesome.” Tracey giggles and leans forward to dodge another swat from her friend. “He’s apparently a total adrenaline junkie. Gets off on that shit. So, he pulls the bike off to the side of the road, and he is all over me. I mean, an absolute beast. Pulling my hair. Yanking my clothes off. Kissing me like he means it.” The smile on her face withers to a frown. “I’m lying there, damn near buck-ass naked, panting for this guy. Like, just take me already, right? And … nothing happens. He’s hard as stone, but he won’t let me get him off. So he takes me back to the party, we part ways, and …” Lips pursed, she shrugs. “I never hear from him again.”
“What’s up with that?” Kelsey’s lip curls, but a part of me is relieved. I don’t know why, really, but I’m glad that nothing happened between them.
“No idea. Worst part is? I know he would’ve been good. You can just tell, that devious look in their eyes, like they’re about to fuck up your world, you know?”
“Okay. Story time is officially over.” Mrs. Donovan swipes the bag out of Tracey’s hand and ushers her friend up off the bed. “C’mon. These girls don’t want a bunch of old ladies hanging around all night.”
Tracey’s eyes zero in on mine. “Be careful around him, Izzy. I have a feeling he hasn’t changed all that much. Something sweet and innocent like yourself? Well, the bad ones just seem to flock to that. Like a moth to flame.” With a sigh, she pushes off the bed and pats my leg. “‘Course, everybody knows you can take care of yourself.”
Chapter 26
Lucian
I swirl the liquor in my glass, staring at the empty bed on camera, where Isa has slept all week.
The kiss on the roof was an act of a drunken fool, but the lingering effects of it are something I can’t seem to ignore, as much as I’ve tried. Even in my stupor, I could taste the temptation on her lips, the black magic behind her kiss. Like the sound of her voice, it calls to some dark and primitive side of me that longs to place her on a shelf, so no one else can touch her.
What is it about this girl? Watching her leave this afternoon left me with a strange sensation I’ve not felt in a long time. I hate that I wonder what she’s doing right now. Who she’s with. Experience tells me these feelings will begin to fester and evolve into my least favorite thing of all: obsession.
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, and I lift my gaze to find Rand standing in the doorway.
“A minute of your time, Sir?”
“Of course.” I lean forward and click the remote that shuts off the camera I’ve been staring at for the last half hour.
“It seems the shipment was an oversight. A new employee. I’ve taken the liberty of firing him.”
“Good. And how is our friend behaving?” Leaving Franco Scarpinato in a state of shock and anger probably wasn’t the best idea.
“It seems you were right about holding the shipment offshore. All has been quiet, and they’ve offered to discuss negotiations at your leisure.”
“We’ll let them wait a bit longer. Wouldn’t want to seem too hasty.”
“Of course, Sir. A very wise move on your part.” Arms crossed in front of him, Rand gives a nod. “I just wanted to provide a quick update. I’ll let you get back to your work.”
“Before you go, I’d like you to look into something for me.”
“Absolutely. What can I do?”
“I want you to find whatever you can on Isadora.”
Clearing his throat, he rolls his shoulders back, as if the request is a discomfort he doesn’t want to confess. Understandable, as I’ve never inquired about any of the workers before. Never really gave a shit. But then, none of them ever pulled me from the edge of a three-story building, either. “I have her interview file, Master. I’ll fetch it immediately.”
“No. Dig deeper. Use whatever resources you need. I want everything on her. Everything.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll get in touch with our contacts and see what I can find.”
“Keep this between you and me. Whatever you find on her.”
“You have my word.” He nods and shifts his arms behind his back. “Is there anything else? Would you like me to fetch Giulia for you?”
Giulia. There was a time she was a source of relief. A means of relieving tension, but lately, I can’t even bring myself to entertain so much as a blowjob from her. “No. I wouldn’t.”
“If I may speak freely, Master.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Very well.” Turning away from me, he heads toward the door, and I sigh.
“What?”
When he spins around to face me, his brows are crinkled, hands fidgeting. “It’s just that … the times you’ve opted not to use her services, you’ve been rather …”
I stay quiet, waiting to see if he has the balls to tell me.
“Irritable. I’ve noticed that hasn’t been the case, particularly in the last week.”
My thoughts flicker back to three nights ago, when I had Isa beneath me, and the sweet flavor of whatever strawberry shit she had on her lips puckering my tongue. “Threatening the mafia seems to agree with me, I guess.”
Rand snorts a laugh and lowers his gaze. “Perhaps. I’ll find what I can on the girl. I should also mention that renovations for the atrium begin tomorrow. Any particular theme you’d like the designer to focus on?”
“Surprise me.”
“Very well. Goodnight, Master.”
“’Night.” The moment he exits the office, I grab my drink, lean back in my chair, and flick the monitor back on.
Chapter 27
Lucian
Eight years ago …
“You make me proud, my boy.” My father stretches across his desk to fill the glass set before me with the same amber liquor that fills his own. “Top of your class, and a Masters from Harvard. The world is your oyster, Lucian.” He lifts his glass in a toast, and tips it back.
I don’t consider my degree much of a feat, having been bred for ruthless business from the time I swiped my first toy from another child, but after a moment of hesitation, I pitch back my own.
“A week from now, you’ll embark on a new journey at Blackthorne Enterprises, but tonight, we celebrate.”
As I understand, he’s invited half of New England to my graduation party. While I should be thrilled to see my father beaming with so much pride, all I can think about is how much I want to tell him to shove his pride up his ass and smoke it.
Waving his finger in the air, he pushes up from his chair. “I’ve got a gift for you.”
“Father, it’s not nec--”
“I’ll not have you telling me what is, or isn’t, necessary.” He hobbles over to a closet, where he rifles around, before returning with something enclosed in his palm. Flicking his hand for mine, he waits until I offer a stretched palm, and drops an object into the center of it.
I stare down at the ring, the same one he wears on his own finger, where a wedding band should be. “Father, I--”
“Not a word. It was Friedrich’s idea. With this ring, you now have access to the secret chambers at the institute, where all our meetings are held, as well as the catacombs here at the Manor.”
I don’t want this. I never asked for it
. By accepting this gift, I’m allowing myself to become indoctrinated into their ways. For the last few years, I’ve played along, in an effort to avoid my father’s wrath, but I have neither the desire, nor inclination, to become an active participant in their little club. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say nothing. You are now an official member of Schadenfreude. Whatever you want is at your fingertips, my boy. As I said before, the world is yours.”
Only an hour into the party, and I’m bored, sipping my third glass of wine, while I watch all of my father’s friends and acquaintances mingle in honor of me.
Sebastian strides toward me, one of only a handful of my friends that my father bothered to invite, and only because of his father. “I say we ditch this lame party, and head to the cliff for a late-night dive.”
Snorting a chuckle, I lift my drink. “You lead, I shall follow,” I say, before tipping back the last of my drink. “At this rate, I’ll be wasted before the bastard even bothers to toast.”
“And I’ll be in the corner, flogging my cock until then.”
As both of us laugh, I signal the hired wait staff for another drink.
“Lucian Blackthorne. Well, you haven’t changed a bit.” The sweet feminine voice has me twisting in my chair.
Amelia Boyd stands off to the side behind me. In a pastel pink dress, her hair coifed in a perfect twist of curls that spill over her ears, she’s the vision of a political princess. Same girl I kissed all those years ago, just with bigger tits and a wiser edge to her stare.
“Amelia Boyd.”
“Sebastian Thoms.” My friend reaches out a hand that she doesn’t bother to acknowledge while keeping her gaze locked on mine. “I’ll just … head for the corner.”
With a smile, I break my ogling to watch him retreat. “His father owns the largest pharmaceutical company on the east coast. You might be the reason he OD’s on antidepressants tonight.”