by Anna Antonia
Right now the plan was supposed to be Lucy and me naked in bed. She would’ve been bouncing on my cock while I sucked on her luscious tits. Then I’d have Lucy on her hands and knees, opening up her pretty pussy for my tongue.
I would’ve taken her against the wall, the floor, in the shower. On and on we’d go until I filled up a wastebasket full of condoms before dawn.
Fuck. Even jail couldn’t stop my dick from getting involved.
Down.
But because it all went to shit, there was no mind-blowing sex followed by sleep and brunch if I was being nice. Which I never was but I had a feeling Lucy would’ve inspired something different.
If she hadn’t dropped the marriage bomb followed by her platinum V-Card.
Damn, but all that talk of marriage should’ve had me packing Lucy off into the first car I saw before picking up a girl or two or three. Instead, I actually imagined getting close enough to Lucy that I’d make her my wife.
Lunatic.
Now I was here.
No Romano yet. No Grandfather.
No Lucy.
At least one thing went right tonight.
32
LUCY
I’d just hung up when my phone rang again. It was Mr. King.
Oh thank God!
“What do you plan on doing, Miss Lucy? Are you going to bail him out, if he can even get out?”
My stomach twisted into a large knot. They had to let him free. Killian could not stay in jail. He didn’t deserve to be there. This wasn’t his fault. It was mine.
“I’ll post his bail.”
Mr. King let out a clipped sigh. “I don’t want you to. He deserves to stay locked up.”
“Sir, you’re wrong. Killian doesn’t deserve this. It wasn’t his fault—”
“¡Basta! Don’t you start making excuses for him! My grandson has been in trouble too many times already. I warned him what would happen if he crossed the line and he did it anyways! Killian doesn’t respect my wishes and he’s gone too far! You should’ve never had to be involved like this. For that alone he will answer to me.”
This was going from bad to worse.
“Mr. King, the other man…”
What was I going to say? Attacked first. A lie. My memories were shot, but I wasn’t 100% sure how Killian got a hold of him. I was too busy beating the shit out of him. Still, Carter did get off a push, and I fell back, but Killian didn’t have to jump in over that.
Right?
But I got involved, fighting because I didn’t know what else to do with my rage, and now…now everything was ruined. I ruined it like I always did.
Clearing my throat, I said the bit of truth I could. “The other man provoked Killian—”
Mr. King grunted. “And my grandson was innocently minding his own business? It would be a first. I’m sure he did provoke the situation.”
“He didn’t. Honest.”
“Then how did Killian end up getting arrested, hmm?”
“Because…because he was only fighting because…” My throat closed up. I was afraid to tell Mr. King how I lost all control and attacked Carter. What would Mr. King think of me?
“I know very well what my grandson was trying to do. He thought to impress you and ended up in jail for it.”
This was it. The punishment I deserved was coming and I had to brace myself. No changing the channel this time. Full on blast.
“I’m sorry, Mr. King.”
“Don’t apologize! You are not in the wrong here.” He let out an aggravated breath. “I should’ve warned you more during our interview.”
“You warned me, sir. I don’t regret taking the job. At least, tonight doesn’t change anything. It was nice until…well, what I’m trying to say is that Killian only got into that fight because I…I mean…”
Stuck my nose where it didn’t belong. Let my hurt and fury over this Gisella cloud my mind. Picked an easy target in Carter when I really wanted to lay into Killian.
I babbled when I didn’t tell the truth or when I didn’t want to tell the truth. It was a poor tell and one that would’ve eventually gotten me killed if I hadn’t changed paths.
“He did it for me, Mr. King. He was trying to keep me safe.”
Killian’s grandfather didn’t say anything. The seconds marched by, matching my heartbeat.
“You wouldn’t be in that situation if it wasn’t for him.”
“Forgive me, Mr. King, but that’s not true. You weren’t there. You can’t know Killian’s intention. I saw him and I know he didn’t want this to happen. He wasn’t looking for trouble. It just…it just happened.”
Mr. King didn’t probe further as I’d hoped. “You’re still planning on bailing him out?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have that kind of money, Miss Lucy?”
I didn’t. I needed every dollar I’d saved.
“Hopefully, it’ll be enough.”
“¡Dios mio! I can’t win. You are going to do two things for me. One, a driver will pick you up and bring you to my home. Two, keep your money.”
Hope lit up like a firefly. Fleeting, sporadic, but there.
“Does this mean you’re going to bail Killian out?”
“For the last time. He should thank you.”
Relief poured right over me. Pressure eased just enough for me to crack a wobbly smile. “He will.”
“Don’t count on it. Now tell me where you are.”
I gave Mr. King my location, grateful a driver was immediately dispatched. I didn’t know where Jorge was, but I assumed he was at the precinct. Once we got off the phone, I walked over to the row of shops and leaned my back against a brick wall. People streamed by, but no one looked over.
Good.
I needed to be ignored.
My shoulders ached. So did my wrists and elbows. Funny how I felt the pain too every time I hurt someone with my fists. Probably worse. Studying my hands, I saw I’d broken three nails. One all the way into the nail bed. The blood was already dry.
Adrenaline had long left my body, leaving me in an aftermath filled with regret and something worse—the desire to do it again.
No, that can’t be right.
First making sure no one could take advantage of my come down, I sifted through my feelings. I definitely didn’t want to go back to that time where I was more animal than human.
Fighting just to fight. Enjoying the pain, mine or theirs, and just wanting to forget everything beneath a wash of blood. Victory in defeating anyone who came at me, victory in surviving anyone who beat me to my knees—it was all that was left to me once my mother entered the ground.
My great-aunts threw me out not too long afterwards. Perhaps it wasn’t what I deserved, but I definitely courted it.
They saw this in me. The desire to unleash my pain on everyone and everything around me.
Tonight was no different. It was like the old and new me melded, becoming more dangerous than before. Before I just wanted to hurt because I hurt. Tonight I wanted to hurt to punish.
What’s Killian going to think of me now?
Cigarette smoke teased my nostrils along with the smell of alcohol. A laughing foursome passed by me, oblivious to the dried blood on my hands. I looked normal enough, harmless even.
But Killian saw someone different. He’d never be able to un-see it.
Un-see me.
33
KILLIAN
“Where the fuck have you been?”
Romano let my snarl bounce off him. His red-rimmed eyes didn’t waver from the file in his hand. “They’re letting you out pending Charles Evan Carter III dropping assault charges against you.”
“Again. Where the fuck have you been? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been in this shit can?”
Romano spared me a bloodless glance. “Be glad you didn’t have to stay until the afternoon.”
That fucking did it!
“If I had, you’d be losing King as a client. So you be glad.”
; “Look, Killian. Tonight is not the night. I’m not in the mood to soothe your ruffled feathers.”
The. Hell!
Romano’s phone went off. He answered it before the first ring ended. “Yes. I’m almost done. Thank you.”
My temper simmered down. “Was that Grandfather?”
“No. Now come on. I’ve already gotten your things released.”
Impotent to do anything but follow, I kept close on Romano’s heels. None too soon, we left florescent purgatory and were outside. Finally. Predawn light and the eerie quiet that preceded sunrise.
I recognized my car. Jorge was probably going to poison me with his resentful silence that all culminated with an unspoken “I told you so.”
Great.
“It goes without saying your grandfather will cover any and all medical costs for Mr. Carter. Considering his family’s preference for discretion, I don’t doubt the charges will be dropped. I’ll contact Mr. King if anything changes.”
Romano left me at the car door without another word and got into a sleek sedan. It wasn’t his. No wonder he was so pissy with me. It was probably his lover’s. Hardly my fault. When you got paid the retainer Romano did, you’d expect a bit of inconvenience every now and again.
My first words to Jorge were simply, “Did Miss Lucy get home safely?”
“Yes.”
“You took her?”
“No. Mr. King sent a driver.”
“Why couldn’t you do it?”
“I was here. Waiting for seven hours.”
Jorge opened the door and sure enough, I felt his disapproval burn like a laser on the back of my neck.
“I’m not in the mood. Seriously. I’ve had a long night and I’m just ready to go to bed.”
“Not yet.”
“What do you mean ‘not yet’?”
Jorge got into the driver’s seat before answering. “Mr. King wants to see you first.”
“Oh shit.” I crossed my arms and closed my eyes. There was no doubt my fucked-up night was about to get infinitely worse.
34
LUCY
Mr. King’s townhome was six stories of history and beauty. Unfortunately, I was too keyed-up to appreciate the tasteful décor.
I wasn’t sure why he wanted me here, considering the explosive nature he tended to have towards his grandson, but I couldn’t deny I wasn’t going to be able to sleep until I saw Killian was safe and sound.
We spent the hours in his den in silence. Me sitting in an armchair by the fireplace and him at his desk.
Finally, at around four, Mr. King’s cell phone went off. He nodded once and then tossed it down.
“Jorge has him.”
Relief trampled right through me. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine.”
“Oh thank God!”
Mr. King grunted, but I knew he was just as relieved. More so.
I whispered my prayers, so grateful the King money and power got Killian out. It was the second time I’d seen what influence could do, the first being when I got out…
Don’t think about it. That was then. This is now.
My leg started bouncing. Tonight uncovered the dirt and I didn’t like it. I wanted to be in the here and now, not reliving shame. I didn’t have to imagine what Killian had gone through tonight.
Humiliation. Fear. Powerlessness.
The knowledge that the life you had before was gone forever. The impotence of strangers deciding your fate, seeing you as trash, devolving your entire existence into one slice of time.
Rebuilding the only option—if you were lucky.
Curling my fingers, I resisted the impulse to dig them into my arms. I created this by letting my emotions control me instead of me controlling them.
Leg bouncing faster, I was coming out of my skin. I wished I could go back in time and do it all differently. I wouldn’t have asked Killian to lunch. I’d rather have been ignored forever than to end up here.
The sound of steps pierced my misery.
I jerked up to my feet just as the door opened. Killian strolled in, disheveled only a bit. Tired about the eyes, but presenting well considering what he’d just gone through.
He spared me only the slightest bit of attention, but what I saw made my heart drop. Killian’s expression turned colder than the first time I met him.
He blames you.
Of course, he did. Why wouldn’t he?
Mr. King rounded his desk. He didn’t say a word until he stood in front of his grandson. “And now you’re officially a criminal.”
I winced.
“Don’t you think it’s in poor taste to talk about this in front of the help?”
“¡Desgraciado!” Mr. King slapped Killian right across the face. The brutal sound of his hand striking flesh brought tears to my eyes.
Killian’s jaw clenched repeatedly as he stared a hole right through the wall. Finally, he spoke. “You’re right, Grandfather. I am a disgrace. A loser. A piece of shit. Pick your insult.”
Mr. King gasped another curse. He slapped the other side of Killian’s face.
Bringing my hands to cover my mouth, I silently begged Killian to stand down. To tell the truth of what happened tonight.
It wasn’t his fault. He was trying to defend me. If I hadn’t jumped the gun, if I had just pulled my arm away from Carter instead of using it as an excuse to rage, none of this would’ve played out like this.
It should’ve been me in cuffs tonight. Not Killian.
Just tell him. Please.
Killian’s jaw pulsed as he obviously ground his teeth. I expected him to blow up in rage, to point his finger at me and roar my blame.
Instead, he avoided my gaze. Both of ours.
That hurt worse than if he’d just denounced me.
“What is wrong with you, Killian! Everything I’ve done for you, all the sacrifices your family has made for your sake—you disrespect the family name like this? I do not want criminals in my family! Ever!”
My twisted stomach dropped to the ground to join my broken heart. I imagined it squelching, wet and disgusting.
Who can blame him?
It didn’t matter how good of a person you were before or after. No one saw that or even cared. The only thing that mattered was your record. Your crime.
Time didn’t change the numbers and files attached to your name. They were etched in stone. Forever branding you as other. Less than. Unworthy.
Criminal.
Frozen to the spot, I heard Mr. King as if far away.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Killian? Answer me!”
Killian remained silent. Mr. King surely saw the same thing I did. Killian was already far away from here.
I wished I was too.
Mr. King shook his proud head. His next words gutted me as surely as they did his grandson.
“I am ashamed to call you family. I hope that man you attacked tonight changes his mind and presses charges. I hope you finally face consequences for your actions. You reap what you sow, Killian Von Hügel, and know you will have brought it all on your head. Don’t expect me to help you past this because my door is closed.”
Mr. King then cruelly twisted the knife.
“Gracias a Dios that Timothy is nothing like you. Thank God! That’s how it will stay. You are no longer welcome in my house. Do not contact him. If you do, I will have Romano draw up an order against you. Am I making myself clear?”
Killian remained outwardly oblivious to his grandfather’s viciousness. Yet, I saw the crack in his callous veneer. I knew he loved his little brother and to lose him too?
No. I had to make this right.
“Mr. King?”
Both of them turned their attention on me. I nearly wilted beneath their combined fire and ice stares.
My breath stuttered out. I was about to lose my newfound place in the world. I was under zero illusions what Mr. King would do when he heard my role in Killian’s arrest.
I’d deserve it too.
I was the one who brought this disgrace on his family. I was the true desgraciado. Not Killian.
Knees weak and legs trembling, I opened my mouth to tell Mr. King the truth. Three words. “It’s my fault.”
But nothing came out.
I tried to swallow but the knot in my throat wouldn’t allow it.
“What is it, Miss Lucy?”
Mr. King’s tight voice barely passed polite. He didn’t have time for my dawdling. It was all going to change after this moment.
But I’m okay with it. I knew I couldn’t be here forever. Just get it over with.
I was supposed to help him by helping his grandson. Instead, I’d made a mess of Killian’s life. I didn’t need to be here any longer. This was all going to be for the best.
“I’m sorry, Mr. King, but tonight was my fault.”
The creases bracketing his mouth deepened. “What do you mean?”
“Killian wasn’t responsible. I was the one who—”
The very same Killian heaved a scornful sigh. “Really, Gramps? You’re going to waste time listening to Lucy bleat? We both know she’s trying to take the fall in a misguided attempt at sainthood.”
Mr. King swiveled his head in his grandson’s direction. “You better shut your mouth. I have no patience for you!”
“No, I will not shut my mouth.” Killian crossed his arms in defiance. “It’s bad enough I have to hear your shit, Gramps, but I’ll be damned if I stand here and listen to Lucy go on and on about any of this being her fault.”
Eyes wide, I tried to interrupt. “Now wait a minute—”
Killian’s rocked back on his heels and snarled, “Shut the fuck up. Now.”
Mr. King reached out and cuffed him on his face again. “No le falta de respeto a Lucy otra vez!”
Killian fingered his jaw. He smiled, a broken tragic thing, before unleashing an inferno of rage.
“I will show a lack of respect to Lucy all day every day as long as I want, Grandfather! Haven’t either of you figured that out yet? I don’t want her in my life! I’m sick of her and you!”
Mr. King and I shrank back. Killian wasn’t satisfied.
“Why else do you think I kicked the shit out of Carter? Because I have to deal with her every day! Dealing with Lucy is the same as dealing with you. Since I can’t hit her nor you, well, good old Carter had to take the beating. Feel pity for him considering your role in it.”