by SE Chardou
Love hurt. That was the honest and God-awful truth. But nothing hurt worst than a love unreturned, unrequited and unreciprocated. I didn’t know what Edward felt for me—pity, perhaps?—but it wasn’t love. I had to make sure that no matter where I was staying or what happened, he would never seek me out again.
This was my goodbye to our sordid story and it had to happen today so I could move on with the rest of my life.
I drove up to the fortified compound with the Saints logo of a skeleton driving a motorcycle on the metal gates. A prospect by the name of O’Neil glared at me before he set down a nine-millimeter Glock in plain sight. I’d met him a couple of times while handling jobs for the Saints but he wasn’t someone I knew personally. He stepped out of the little booth and walked over to the Mini Cooper. His stare was suspicious; dead silver-gray eyes observed me with cold indifference as he bent down next to the driver’s window I’d rolled down.
“What are you doing here Mags? I know about everythin’ goin’ down and with the trial comin’ up for one of our own, ain’t nothin’ happenin’ that would require an outsider to show up unannounced,” he explained cryptically.
The trial would be the one Cillian had going on at the moment for the murder of a Federal agent. It wasn’t my business but the entire underworld knew what was happening. It was hardly a secret the club was being extra careful about everything now they were on the Feds’ radar.
“I’m not here to talk about business,” I replied in a soft voice. “Is Kink around?”
He shook his head as the cold look from his eyes disappeared and was immediately replaced by bitter resignation. “Shit, woman, you got it bad, dontcha? Yeah, he’s here. I’ll let ya in but if his old lady shows up, you gotta split. You know the drill.”
I nodded my head. “Yep. I was just here to see you. Another nameless, faceless Saint Slapper Miranda wouldn’t recognize if we walked past each other on the street. Got it.”
O’Neil stepped away from my car and walked back to his little booth before he pressed a button and the gates opened. I drove through slowly before parking my car in the designated area and killed the engine.
All of the sudden, my heart thundered fiercely in my chest and it was hard for me to breathe. What the hell was I doing here? What would Max think if he knew I was meeting with the “enemy?”
Wait . . . what? When the fuck did I start to care about what Max thought about me? He was my partner on an assignment. Yes, we would be playing house and pretend we were a happy fucking couple but damn, when did that start, exactly? Now? I couldn’t just tell Kink it was all a charade and we were really trying to murder Angelo Abandonato. Apparently, the “game” I was playing began now because there truly was no other way for the situation to work.
Wasn’t that the reason I came here to tell Kink the truth in the first place?
I didn’t have much time to think anything over before the driver’s door to my Mini Cooper swung open and the man I’d come to see stood there. His face appeared to be a blank slate, unreadable and as unnerving as that was, I would have personally preferred he’d been angry or at least agitated I had the gall to show up at his clubhouse.
“Hey,” he began in a deep, husky voice. “O’Neil told me you were here. I’m workin’ but . . . I haven’t seen you in a while. What are you doing this far up north?”
I got out of the car and closed the door behind me. I didn’t bother to grab my keys or my handbag. “How don’t you know I’m not on a job?”
Kink shrugged though he looked toward the empty playground situated on the compound. “You know how our world is and news gets around. Word around the campfire is Decker let you go. If you’re workin’, is it freelance shit? Please don’t tell me that’s why you’re here—my old lady put a hit out on me or somethin’?”
I shook my head as he smirked before we began to walk side-by-side. “No, it’s nothin’ like that. I mean, I am working freelance but it has nothing to do with the Saints.”
I tried to force myself to calm down and feel at ease as we both sat on a picnic bench facing one another. He grabbed a cigarette from a pack of Marlboros left behind and lit one before dragging heavily. “You’re not really one to do surprise visits, Mags. I also liked you because you knew when to stay away. Are you in trouble?”
My heart slammed against my chest and it wasn’t the first time that day I wished I had a bit more control over my emotions. “What makes you ask that?”
“Well, you’re working with Max Cartier and if that’s happenin’, you’re into some heavy shit.” Kink finally met my eyes and his were gorgeous, aquamarine and bright as the fucking sun. “He’s got a rep, babe. You’re playin’ with the big boys now. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Really?” I tried to keep the sarcastic bite out of my voice to no avail. “Why do you give a fuck about what I do? You’re married to this absolutely perfect woman who makes you feel like a piece of fucking gold and I was nothing but a side bitch. Might as well have a been a club whore—”
“Hey!” Kink exclaimed as he pointed to me, his cigarette dangling between his lips. “You were never a club whore and I didn’t think about you that way either. I’ve disrespected my share of women and I’m no motherfuckin’ saint but for Christ’s sake, I always thought I showed a modicum of respect for you.”
“You did.” I looked away from him as the tears welled in my eyes despite me trying to will them away. “You treated me like I was actually someone . . . special. I know you’re happy now and I’m glad you and Miranda patched everything up.”
“Yeah, so am I.” He dragged on his cigarette again, his eyes never leaving my face. “Baby, what’s up? You know I can’t fuck you if I want my dick to stay intact with my old lady but . . . do you need help? Money? I know they paid you but if you want somethin’, you know I’ll help you.”
I quickly wiped the tears away before I turned toward him again and smiled. “Nope, I don’t need anything. Max and I . . . we aren’t workin’ on a job, sweetie, we’re engaged. I’m not doin’ anything right now because the man has more money than he knows what to do with and I just wanted you to know I’m finally safe. I’m okay. I’m fine.”
Kink’s blue-green eyes darkened. “You’re engaged to that prick? Babe, you do know he works for the Russian Mafia, right? We’ve got intel on him being Koslakov’s right hand man.”
“Who else knows this? I mean, besides the Saints? You tell Angelo or Raymond about this?”
“No, we haven’t because we don’t do business with them. We work with Aztecas Infierno and the Koslakov Mafia but . . . the man is no joke. You know he had his first wife and their sons murdered? Supposedly, he’s remarried now and has a kid but no one has seen either of ’em or knows where they live.
“We don’t know what the hell about his personal life is truth and what part is urban legend he probably spread himself. All we do know for sure is he’s a demented, fucking psychopath. Max is his main guy but he could turn on him too. I don’t understand why he’s so close with him . . . after everything he’s been through and what Koslakov has done to him, he should be trying to kill him,” Kink explained before he crushed his cigarette butt in a nearby ashtray.
“I don’t understand. I mean, what has Koslakov done?
“Well, we know he had his wife murdered—word circlin’ around is your old man did it. Max isn’t what he seems. I mean, I know some shit but that’s only ’cause . . .” He trailed off and sighed out loud. “Listen, I know enough about him to fully comprehend you’re playing with fire. He’s poison, Mags—rotten to the core. If any goodness ever existed in him, Koslakov destroyed it a long time ago, darlin’.
“You think the Knights fucked you up? Babe, they ain’t got the imagination Koslakov has. We do business with them but that doesn’t mean we like or even remotely trust them. The Russians are worse than the Mexicans. They don’t have no code or honor. They’d murder their grandmother if they were missing a fuckin’ ruble.”
<
br /> “Don’t you mean a penny?” I joked before I wiped the smirk off my face and became serious again. “I know all of this, honey—I’m not stupid. It doesn’t change the fact the man will soon be my husband and I haven’t sworn allegiance to anyone. I’m marrying Max, not the fucking Mafia.”
Kink chuckled as he shook his head. “That’s the point—you are marrying the Mafia. You think Koslakov isn’t goin’ to want you to do shit for him? Max is . . . he’s damaged, baby. He’s been through a lot and at this point, his Stockholm syndrome is worse than yours. He feels a twisted sense of loyalty for the same fucker who destroyed our—he’s just . . . he’s bad news.”
“Destroyed what, exactly?” I questioned a little loudly.
“Nothin’ . . . listen, I gotta get back to work. If you’re living in the area now, don’t be a stranger. Come by to see me, even if it’s just to let me know you’re safe and sound.” Kink stood from the table and I shot up just as quickly.
“Wait,” I said as I snatched his wrist closest to me. “I can’t see you anymore. I won’t put your life or our child’s life at risk. If they know about our connection then they’ll find out and then they have somethin’ to hold over my head.”
Kink snatched his wrist from my grasp and glanced at me with heartless, blue eyes that resembled the Pacific before an oncoming storm. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“We had a kid.” I couldn’t stop the word vomit even if I wanted to; it just started tumbling out and spewed all over the place. “He’s with the Knights . . . Jake and Sadie. They adopted him because Jake thought it was his son. He’s ours, Kink, but I couldn’t fuck up your marriage. I’m not telling you this so you’ll do anything about it but just know we have a son and he’s five years old. I can’t let Max know there’s any kind of connection between us so I can’t see you again.”
He began to walk away before he stopped and rubbed his hands through his hair. “Fuck!”
“I’m not going to tell anyone—”
“Why didn’t you fuckin’ tell me when you were pregnant? I could have gotten you away from Decker and set you up here. At least you’d have our son and that racist piece of shit wouldn’t be raisin’ my boy!” he said as a blue vein in the center of his forehead bulged with mounting frustration.
“I didn’t think you wanted him.” I shook my head and looked at the ground. “I couldn’t have another abortion so I did the next best thing. There’s no guarantee Decker would have let me go but if he knew, he would have made me get rid of him. I thought a home was better than nothing at all. Sadie adores him and Jake would do anything for him. He’s safe, and I can visit him anytime I want. I couldn’t risk our child’s life on something that might or might not have happened. I’m sorry.”
Kink stepped toward me and held my face in his calloused hands, his rough palms brushed against my soft cheeks. “I fuckin’ loved you. I still do.”
“You love Miranda more and I can understand that—I never wanted to break up your marriage.”
“This shit here ain’t about my marriage, Mags.” He sighed and leaned in closer to me. “I don’t love her no more than I love you, babe. It’s just . . . different. If I’d met you when I was single, you’d be on the back of my fuckin’ bike right now. I didn’t. I met you after I had an old lady and everythin’ was outta my hands. Didn’t matter what I did, someone was gonna fuckin’ get hurt. Miranda had my fuckin’ kid, babe. I couldn’t leave her but that don’t change nothin’ between you and me. You still mean a lot to me and I only want you to be happy.”
“I know.” Tears spilled from my eyes and over his hands that still held my face. “I love you too but sometimes you gotta learn to let go. Miranda isn’t goin’ anywhere and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her. You have two beautiful boys you know and love. I wanted to say good-bye because I owed you that. I don’t want you to ever suffer for what we did. You take care of yourself and that gorgeous old lady of yours, all right?”
“You know I will—”
“Promise me, Edward,” I whispered. “Please don’t let what we had drive a wedge between you two. I’m gonna be happy and go on to live a life with Max. I know he’s not your first choice for me but he’s good to me. He’s the next best thing to not having you so let me be with him, okay? And no matter what happens, we never were anything to each other. You won’t tell a soul outside this club because Koslakov would use it and that would hurt me more than if you spit in my face and told me to go fuck myself, all right?”
Kink’s eyes watered but he blinked rapidly until any signs of tears were gone from his eyes. “Yeah, I won’t tell no one and I’ll keep my mouth shut but it’s only ’cause I fear my old lady more than Koslakov.”
We allowed our fingers to touch, almost reluctantly, before he grabbed my hands possessively and held them in his own. I wouldn’t allow myself to fall apart, not in front of him and certainly not afterwards. It was meant to be and no matter how much I realized I’d taken on the role of protecting him instead of the other way around, my mothering instinct kicked in just like that.
A role I thought I would never occupy.
One that was made for other women but certainly not me—never ever for someone like me in my line of work. I couldn’t help it but it felt just as natural as the sun setting in the west just as sure as it rose in the east every day. I squeezed his hands one final time before I stood and cleared my throat.
“I should be going. Last thing I want is Max to send out a search party. I didn’t tell him where I was going because frankly, I didn’t think it was any of his business.” I smiled again at Kink. “Promise me you’ll keep your family safe? That’s what is most important to me.”
“I’m more worried about you taking care of yourself, Mags,” he replied in a wary voice. “They aren’t people you can trust. You’re not one of them. They’ll turn on you in a heartbeat. I’m surprised that Russian son of a bitch hasn’t ordered your death.”
That stopped me in my tracks as I stepped back a few feet to put some distance between us. “Why would Dimitri do that?”
“You can’t possibly be that naïve, not after the life you’ve lived. You’re not goin’ to try to convince me this is a love match, are ya? I’m not stupid. You’re doin’ somethin’ for ’em and that bastard is famous for . . . cuttin’ loose ends, so to speak.” His blue-green eyes glared at me with a pained look on his face. “You can’t trust Max anymore than you can trust his mentor. If he has no feelings for you then he will do what he’s told like a good soldier. I only hope you’re able to have the effect on him as you do most men.”
I chuckled as I shook my head with amusement. “Come on, Edward. You’re making me sound like a femme fatale and we both know I’m certainly not that.”
Even as I turned and started to walk away, I could still hear his voice as he said, “Oh, but you are . . . you’re a drop dead gorgeous bitch with a tattered soul and a beautiful body made for sin. In fact, you shouldn’t be scared of them—come to think of it—they should be terrified of you. If I have learned anything about life, there’s nothing more frightening or dangerous than a woman scorned.”
Chapter Eight
Maxwell
Max could barely hide how livid he actually was but when he walked out of his bedroom, fresh from a shower and changed into clean clothes, Mags was no where to be found.
At first he panicked. She could have just gotten into the Mini Cooper he gave her and drove away. After all, she was free as bird and could start a new life anywhere, obtain documentation and live a very happy and carefree life as Jane Doe.
However, he didn’t let his pride get the best of him and a part of him innately understood she would be back. Like most mammals, she was a creature of habit and she could never be satisfied living an everyday existence. It wasn’t in her—if it ever was—and now she’d gotten a taste for violence, fear, excitement and living life on the edge, it wasn’t possible to tuck that all away and live a life most people dreamed of
being perfect.
The kind where nothing bad really happened, and ideally, one found the man of their dreams, married, had their house in the suburbs, kids and a family pet or two. Max couldn’t imagine living that way ever and if he truly knew Mags, neither could she.
Of course, he could have made it easy on himself and used the tracking device he’d installed on the vehicle but where was the fun in that? Besides, a part of him didn’t want to know where she’d gone. Not only did it give him legitimate plausible deniability but he didn’t trust Dimitri.
The man—the one he loved and hated above all—had given him his word he wouldn’t hurt Mags but Max had heard it all before and knew his word was as good as the average sociopath. He tried to come across as being as cold and heartless as his boss but he simply didn’t have the skills inside him.
He hadn’t grown up in the streets of St. Petersburg, homeless at a young age, or alone like Dimitri. Max’s childhood had been filled with love and laughter. He sometimes remembered his mother crying but it wasn’t because of him. She only felt bad about the loved ones she’d been forced to leave behind. The man she did love though she allowed him to believe his feelings for her were unrequited. The child they shared she’d given up in exchange for having at least one to call her own.
Everything changed when his mother met Dimitri and he introduced her to a world of wealth and desire beyond her wildest dreams. He wasn’t exactly thrilled she had a son but his mother had always been good weaving the perfect lie and by the time she’d sank her claws into the man who would eventually become his stepfather, Dimitri couldn’t imagine his life without them.