PowerHouse_Anti-Hero Game_Power Chain Book One

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PowerHouse_Anti-Hero Game_Power Chain Book One Page 9

by Chelsea Camaron


  She waved her hand dismissively. “No, I’m making you breakfast. You want to eat that, fine, but I’m feeding you a real meal.”

  I was coming to realize that Ellen Sue did what she wanted and there was no use in fighting with her because she just brushed it off. While I ate, she moved and I would be surprised if she even breathed.

  “What do you have planned for the day?” she asked with her back to me, stirring something that smelled delicious on the stove.

  Plans? Can I even make plans with Onyx?

  “I’m not sure. Maybe check out the house?” I wanted Ellen Sue to answer the question, hoping that Onyx would’ve told her something about what I could do.

  “That’s perfect. It’s nice to have you here.” She handed me a plate with pancakes, potatoes, and eggs. It put my puny yogurt to shame.

  “Thank you.”

  “This is what I’m here for.” She flitted back over to the sink and began doing the dishes. It was a perfect opportunity and no way would I pass it up.

  “So how long have you worked for Onyx?”

  She peered over her shoulder. “A long time. Now that’s all I’m saying about Onyx. You want to know about him, you ask him.” She turned back to the dishes, dismissing me. Damn. She was as hard about what goes on with Onyx as he was.

  After eating quietly, I handed the dishes back to her with a, “thank you,” and left the room. Ellen Sue seemed so happy yesterday, but one mention of her connection with Onyx and she turned on me. That was a wonderful way to begin my time here. I wanted to ask where Onyx was, but after that earlier statement, I thought better of it.

  Walking through the manor, the white made me cold, so much so, I rolled the arms of my shirt down for warmth. The first room I ventured into appeared to be a living room, but I wasn’t quite sure because the only thing in the room was a white couch. And the space was huge making that piece of furniture look like it was miniature. How could someone live in a place where they had nothing but this void everywhere?

  The next two rooms on the main floor were more of the same. One had a table with a glass top and six white chairs, that was all. The second had nothing, empty.

  All of it adding to the ghosting feeling that rode me. Moving up the stairs, the door at the end of the hall called to me, but I thought it was locked. After trying it, I was surprised to feel the turn. Stepping over the threshold, my hand came to my chest as I gasped.

  Bookshelves lined the walls taller than I could reach, but they were empty. No one should have a beautiful room like this and not have books. A lone white chair sat off to the side with a white ottoman. It was strange, though, to have those two items in the middle of the space. Sitting down, I curled my body into a ball.

  Staring at the white walls, I wondered if my sister started planning the baby’s room or bought any clothes. If she painted the room yet or if she was going to go with white. If she was, we were having a serious talk.

  I hadn’t felt so alone in a long time, but here, staring at the blankness that was Onyx’s home, I felt it. It was as if the walls were caving in on me, but I needed to be strong.

  The library ended up being my sanctuary, and it was so much better than being locked in the bedroom. Onyx was rarely around, saying he needed to do business. Since I knew it had to do with babies, my curiosity ran wild.

  Yet at night when he’d come back, I didn’t ask the questions that plagued me. Onyx Blake was still a mystery to me.

  13

  Onyx

  Two Weeks Later

  Absently, I flipped the Zippo lighter on the conference table we all sat around. Driving to the city was my least favorite activity, but occasionally business necessitated it. This was my monthly trip to the smog-infested hell hole.

  Philadelphia was full of life, activity, and color. Lancaster wasn’t. Open fields could be found while horse drawn carriages still filled the roadways in Lancaster where I had my residence. The men in their hats, nondescript clothing, and beards that hid every smile they never shared. The men like Amos Beiler who ruled their homes with an overbearing attitude and punishments that most modern people would frown upon.

  What doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger. The words were scrolled on my forearm, hidden into a churning sea of waves that built the tattoo sleeve on my left arm.

  Paxton snagged the lighter from me to light his cigarette before sliding it back over to where I commenced flipping it once again. He smoked, the rest of us didn’t. If that was what it took to keep his demons at bay, so be it.

  We were all casually dressed today in jeans and t-shirts looking every bit the menace to society we had the reputation of being.

  “You wanna tell me why the Lanier’s deposited one point five million in our holding account two weeks ago? You didn’t answer the question when I called the day of the deposit. I gave you that play, Onyx. Now we need answers,” Paxton asked, looking directly to me. He was all about the numbers, and I knew he wouldn’t miss it. “More importantly, do you really plan to continue down this path with them and the sister? They sent a man to your private estate for her. No one has ever crossed that line, Onyx. What the fuck are we dealin’ with?”

  Leaning forward, I looked him dead in the eye as he took a drag off his cigarette. “What I plan is my business, not yours. The money is in order, the contract still in good standing.”

  “When you’re done playing with this girl, we’ve wiped her out. What the fuck you gonna do then, playboy?” he remarked with a challenge in his undertone. Paxton had balls, brass ones. Hell, we all fucking did. He was controlled fury. Paxton Williams was the kind of man to deliver the death blow with a smile and not a single scuff on his designer fucking shoes. In fact, the last man who crossed him, Paxton took out in the time it took him to finish his fucking cigarette, putting the butt out in the man’s eyeball. Painful, yes. Effective in leaving his message, absolutely.

  I rose from the chair, standing tall, to which Paxton stood from his chair with Garrett following like he would have his back.

  This was how things always were for us as far back as I could remember. Garrett took Paxton’s back every time the cocky prick set me off, and Dane would be at my right hand side ready to take on our friends if necessary. Maybe it was the fact that Dane and I were already settled into life at the farm when they arrived, or maybe it was that we shared a darker soul. I wasn’t sure which and didn’t figure it mattered. Honest as fuck, the four of us were all the Devil’s seed. Ruthless, cunning, sharp, and fearless, we weren’t the kind of men to back down even from each other.

  “Torryn is my concern and my concern alone. What I do or don’t do with her doesn’t have one fuckin’ thing to do with our business.”

  Paxton and Garrett exchanged a look between them. When Garrett turned back to me, I leaned over the table, with my hands in fists, resting on my knuckles, “I’ve never put us at risk and never will. I have Torryn under control as I do the Laniers’.”

  Garrett started to speak to which I threw a hand up silencing him. “Torryn McAllister is off the table. Do not question me because I don’t fuckin’ question any of you. Keep down this path and I’ll fuckin’ beat the fuck out of each of you and you fuckin’ know it.”

  My blood boiled as the rage clouded my vision. What I had going on with Torryn wasn’t their business. The bigger plan at play here had nothing to do with them or any of our holdings. Not that I would share this information with anyone either.

  Garrett raised his hands in innocence. “Man, I saw that piece. Not tryin’ to be in your shit, just as I don’t want you in mine. This is the first time we’ve crossed lines in business. You took her to The Manor, that makes shit personal. They sent a man to your place, and that makes the whole damn thing a risk. The Lanier’s have crossed lines we’ve never tolerated before.”

  Dane slammed his hand down on the table with menace in his stare to each of them. “What Onyx does is Onyx’s business. We take his back like he would ours, no fuckin’ questions asked. We�
��re here for business, now let’s get down to it. I handled the threat to his property. He handled the contract. The Lanier’s are on track, and Torryn is where the fuck she belongs. Enough on the topic. Next order of business.”

  Paxton’s eyes flared in anger toward me. “Dammit, Onyx, we offered you help and at every turn with this broad, but you dismissed us. Say the shit is handled, we stand down. But say the word and we’ll shut the whole fuckin’ family down for you.”

  I nodded, knowing he meant it. While Dane and I may be close like Garrett and Pax, we took care of our own no matter who dragged us into it. We were a team, just like it always had been.

  Just like that we all settled, sat back down, and got to the upcoming week which built into the following month. The third Saturday morning of each month, we met downtown at Garrett’s office to review the current month, previous week, following week, and what would come ahead in the next month. I hated every second I had to be here.

  The next hour passed with us laying out which contracts were closing in the next thirty days and the potential for an early closing of a deal based on the individual situation. We had built an empire based on the skillsets we each possessed, coming together for the greater goal. We didn’t pimp whores, push drugs, or pump guns through the city. We used what we knew to our advantage.

  Growing up with a fucked up childhood was a head game no one should endure. Each of us knew it all too well.

  With Garrett sliding me the file for the Lanier’s it was the final piece of business for the day. “Figured this one was personal now. It’s all been removed from any tracking we have. The Lanier’s are yours, as is their surrogate, offspring, and future. We’ve handled making sure Torryn’s landlord understands she was there under an assumed identity and anyone else in her history. Torryn Lane McAllister is as much a ghost as Olivia Blake.”

  His words hit me deep. He didn’t know it and never would. None of them would ever be privy to my inner thoughts about my incubator. My mouth parched, but I didn’t speak; instead, I gave him a nod in respect while I choked back the hatred at the mention of my mother’s name.

  “This saved your face,” I told Garrett to which he raised an eyebrow in question. “You wanted to run your mouth to Pax telling him I took Torryn so, Loose Lips Lucy, you get a pass. I was gonna punch you in the face for sharing my shit, but it’s been a few weeks and I’m not nearly as pissed.”

  “Don’t do me any favors, fucker.” He smirked at me.

  The four of us had balls of steel. We were also always honest with each other. It kept things in balance, and everyone knew where they stood with each man in front of them.

  Standing, we all shook hands as Dane and I left first, knowing Garrett and Paxton would review the business they shared in the city that was completely on the books.

  As soon as we stepped outside, Dane gripped my shoulder stopping me. “You sure you know what you’re doing with her?”

  “Plan is still as it was before I laid eyes on her. She’s mine.”

  He gave me a single nod before heading to his Ducati where he skipped the helmet before taking off like a bat out of hell. Dane chased death like men chased pussy. The good thing for us was his relationship with loss of life was as strong as the longest marriage in history and would remain that way.

  Folding my body in my Cadillac, I thought back to just a few weeks ago when I had Torryn in this very car. She was afraid but never let the fear strangle her. The strength inside her was the biggest turn on and challenge I had ever faced.

  I wanted to fuck her and fuck her up. I wanted her to feel me, understand me, see me just as much as I wanted to destroy her from the inside out.

  From the moment she dismissed me to even now, she didn’t react the way I anticipated. In the game I played she kept changing the rules, changing the plays, and making me have to counter unexpectedly. It threw me off. My attraction to her was a problem, but not one I couldn’t control.

  She was a beautiful woman. There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that I would fuck her. The pull was what fucked with my head. The way I didn’t want to simply be inside her but, instead, the way I wanted to mark her body and brand her soul as mine was dangerous—for her and for me.

  The drive back to Lancaster was filled with my mind going between the hundreds of ways I wanted to fuck her senseless and the reason I found her in the first fucking place. The way she rocked to my body, taking from me anything I was willing to give, made my cock rock hard as I drove mile after mile getting closer and closer to her. Over and over the days and nights turned into this push and pull game, one I couldn’t let her win.

  Like a savage beast, I wanted to attack and pull pleasure from every millimeter of her body. Like the asshole I was, I wanted to crawl inside her head to leave her with nothing but doubt, insecurity, and questions about what was real in her life and what was simply the illusion she was allowed to believe in.

  Again, I was left with the desire to fuck with her head as much as I was humanly capable to fuck her body.

  And that was all that consumed me as I passed through the gate before parking and making my way inside the manor. My cock throbbed for relief as it chaffed against my jeans with every step I took through the mansion.

  I was a man on a mission, and yes, it was lead by my cock. Too much time had passed, and I needed to sink deep inside her. Find Torryn McAllister and fuck her out of my system.

  14

  Torryn

  His fingertips trailed down my torso leaving goose bumps on my flesh, the cool air of the room adding to the sensation. My head rolled back on the top of the chair, arching my neck and pressing my breasts out.

  The touches came to my hard nipples, circling around and around, but never actually touching the tip. Arousal burst through my core as wetness dampened my panties. Breathing was becoming difficult as small whimpers and moans escaped me.

  My hips kept circling, begging for him to touch me between them, but he didn’t. Even my groans of frustration only seemed to keep him away from my need.

  Looking down between my thighs, Onyx’s dark blue eyes stared back at me intently, almost like he was memorizing what every touch he did to me felt like. The intensity in them only made me hotter. There was a blaze in their depths, a fire that seemed to burn for me. Instead of a simmer, my body was a pot ready to boil over if only he would give me a little more.

  “Fuckin’ sexy as hell, you in my clothes,” he said, pulling the top of the sweatpants down as he leaned down and kissed me at my bellybutton. To this, I cried out. There had always been something about my bellybutton that turned me inside out. The kisses or licks—hell even bites—around that area, were a hot button. So much so, I was about ready to beg when his tongue circled before making a path down to my underwear.

  Dreams were fantastic because I could have exactly what I wanted with no consequences at the end. I didn’t want to wake up as Onyx gave my body this undivided attention.

  He stopped pulling down my pants, just allowing a small bit of skin above my panties where his teeth came down and bit hard.

  Jolting awake, my eyes blinked rapidly, still feeling high as a kite from the dream. When I looked down, Onyx was actually between my legs sitting on the floor, his lips on my body and hands inching closer to my core.

  The room that once felt so cold, now felt incredibly hot. We were in the empty library where I spent most of my time and apparently fell asleep.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as his hands came to my hips, gripping them tightly. Without words, he kissed the patch of skin he bit and instead of dreaming—this was very real, and my body wanted it. Badly.

  What was I supposed to do? Denying the desire made my chest tighten in anxiety. My mind was reeling as I tried to sort out whether I was actually awake or still in a dream.

  He began pulling my pants down and my first instinct was to clamp my legs together, but his wide shoulders held them open. “We can’t do this,” I protested, even though it sounded weak
even to my own ears. He knew it too because he smiled up at me.

  “You want me to stop?” He feigned innocence.

  I bit my bottom lip hard because no, I didn’t want him to stop. My body was so primed from the dream that it needed release badly. After last night and now today, my core was strung tighter than a coil and needed to be let loose. The longer I gazed into his eyes the easier I found it to get lost in him.

  Needing some sort of boundaries, I tried to make things clear. “This doesn’t mean I like you,” I told him with as much punch as I could, but weakness was pulling me under. It was like I was fighting with myself on what I wanted as opposed to what I needed.

  “Don’t have to like me to ride my cock,” he said casually before settling in at my juncture.

  I started to rebuttal, but his fingertips went to my clit, finding it on the very first try—

  something that hadn’t happened with past lovers. They were lucky to get in the same realm, but not Onyx. Dead on. My back arched in the white chair as I gripped the arm handles tightly.

  “Want me to stop?” he asked, and for a brief moment I wondered if he would stop or ignore my wishes.

  What was he doing here? He wasn’t a lover I had time with where I could read between his statements. Yes was on the tip of my tongue, but it would be a lie and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk that he might, indeed, stop and leave me in this state. I craved this release as much as my next breath. When was the last time I had a lover? When was the last orgasm I experienced that wasn’t self-induced? It had been far too long, and I was drowning in his touch.

  Instead, I shook my head and tried to regulate my breathing, which was really no use.

  “Words, Torryn,” he demanded, pulling back from my body. I was hot, aroused, and desperate for release.

  “No.” His smile would’ve knocked me on my ass if I weren’t already sitting. It was sinister and full of wicked promise.

 

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