by Nicola Marsh
I grinned at the memory of my first rebellious act at ten, a few months after Mum died.
‘Then there was that time you made yourself a stack of strawberry pancakes and gave me half a bowl of dried apricots? Well, let’s just say there wasn’t just sugar in your tea every night, because some chalk dust might’ve found its way into your bowl.’
I’d wished many times it could’ve been arsenic.
‘As for the endless beatings on my ass with that wooden spoon? I have a tattoo of your most precious possession, those stupid orchids, on both butt cheeks so every time I sit down I know I’m squashing them.’
Childish, maybe, but those flowers had been my first tattoo and it’d made me feel so good I’d wanted more.
‘I knew you would’ve hated the tattoos so every time I got another one, it was a real up yours.’ I flipped the bird at the plaque, getting into the spirit of things. ‘Whenever I lay in that parlour, the needle piercing my skin, I thought of how you’d rant and rave and disapprove, and I didn’t feel a thing.’
On a roll, I continued. ‘I hate you for destroying my trust in people. For making me believe I was unworthy. For making me feel I wasn’t good enough for anything or anybody. But you know what? I’m doing okay. In fact, I’m doing better than okay. And Remy’s a good guy. The best. So I guess I can be thankful you didn’t screw him up real good too. We’re happy. And that’s the best form of revenge I know, because you’re down there and there isn’t one damn thing you can do to me any more...’
I trailed off, my legs surprisingly weak and my arms almost numb, like I was on the verge of fainting. I sank to my haunches, dropped my head and breathed deeply, in and out, until the dizziness passed.
He deserved so much more vitriol, but I felt drained and I couldn’t summon any more hatred.
I was done.
Did I feel better? Maybe. Purging the past could only be a good thing.
But I wouldn’t come back here. I’d said all that needed to be said. Who knew? Maybe I’d have the balls to confront Abby too now, and give her the closure she needed. It was the least I could do.
Not tonight. Tonight, I needed to head back to the club, immerse myself in work and finish that aged whiskey I’d been keeping for a rainy day.
The way I was feeling right now, it was pelting down.
I stood, staring at the plaque one last time. ‘See you in hell.’
I walked away without looking back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Abby
I FELT LIKE an idiot.
Getting tizzied up in a black miniskirt, green halter-top and stiletto ankle boots, with a liberal dose of mascara and coral lipstick, when Tanner had seen me naked.
But the clothes and make-up gave me some much-needed confidence as I strode towards the VIP rope inside Embue.
‘I need to see Tanner King,’ I said in my best diva voice, to a muscle-bound ninja who glared at me like I had no right being there let alone demanding audience with his boss.
He cast a cursory glance at the electronic tablet in his hand before shooting me a dismissive sneer. ‘You’re not on the list.’
‘The boss will want to see her,’ a guy said from behind me, unclipping the rope and pushing aside the gold curtain. ‘Come with me, Abby.’
‘Uh, thanks.’ I swept past the himbo and smiled at the tall blond guy who bore a startling resemblance to British hottie Tom Hiddleston. ‘I don’t think we’ve met?’
‘Hudson Watt, manager at this den of iniquity.’ He shook my hand. ‘And Tanner’s best mate, no matter if he tells you otherwise.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ I said, those damn butterflies taking flight when we stopped outside Tanner’s private room. ‘You sure this will be okay? He’s not busy?’
‘Sweetheart, he needs to see you so bad he doesn’t even know it.’ With a boyish grin, Hudson knocked twice on the door, swiped a card against the digital lock and opened it.
While my hands shook, he stuck his head around the door. ‘You have a visitor.’
Before I could second-guess my wisdom in showing up here unannounced, Hudson swung open the door and gave me a nudge inside.
‘Good luck,’ he murmured, soft enough only I could hear, as he shut the door.
Leaving me staring at Tanner like a gobsmacked doofus.
Any scintillating opening lines I might have rehearsed on the way over fled as he advanced towards me. Shoulders set, neck muscles rigid with tension, massive glower slashing his brows.
He didn’t look pleased to see me.
I managed a pathetic ‘hey’ a second before he grabbed me and slammed his mouth against mine.
I could’ve protested, could’ve cited the fact we needed to talk, could’ve accused him of being a gutless jerk for walking away from me without saying goodbye.
But as his tongue entered my mouth and he pinned me up against the door, any fleeting thought of resistance fled.
I wanted this. Wanted him. Like I’d never wanted anything in my life.
Lust consumed me as he unzipped, sheathed and rucked up my skirt. I clung to him, overwhelmed by sensation as he dragged my panties aside and thrust into me.
I gasped as he filled me, savouring the exquisite friction as he slid in and out. Slowly at first. Then faster. Each time he entered me harder than the last. Powerful thrusts. Pushing me higher, quicker, than I’d ever experienced before.
I hooked a leg over his waist and he took it as an invitation to pick me up, holding my butt as he drove into me like a man possessed.
My head fell back against the door with a thud as my muscles tensed, pleasure rippling through me as he angled my hips so he dragged across the most sensitive part of me.
With every thrust my body sparked with heat, burning me up as the beginnings of my orgasm pooled deep.
Long, deep, hard thrusts that made me want to bite down on something to stop from deafening him. He shifted. Drove into me again. Once. Twice. And I came apart, spiralling out of control as he swallowed my scream with a kiss.
He followed a moment later, thrusting into me so deep I almost passed out with the pleasure bordering on pain, his low groan fierce and feral.
Before I could say something light to defuse the moment, he withdrew, leaving me no option but to lower my legs. He didn’t look at me as he stalked to the bathroom, returning a moment later to sit at his desk like nothing had happened.
Reeling from his coldness, I tidied myself up and crossed the room to stand in front of him.
‘Look at me.’
He ignored my demand, preferring to stare at a computer screen like it revealed the secret to longevity.
‘Damn you.’ I slammed my palm on his desk and he jumped, his gaze finally locking on mine.
What I saw took my breath away.
Disgust. Regret. And a hopelessness that made me want to cradle him close and never let go.
His throat convulsed as he swallowed, before clearing it. ‘You need to leave.’
‘Too bad, because I’m not like you, taking the easy way out, running away like some scared little kid.’ I perched on his desk, close enough I could smell the alcohol on his breath. ‘You don’t look drunk but you smell like a brewery.’
‘I’m not. I’ve had four shots.’
‘To numb the pain?’
‘To wake me up so I can work all night.’ He faked a yawn and stretched, his deep scowl and defiant glare reminding me of a guarded lion taunting his prey before he pounced. ‘You’re disturbing me.’
‘And you’re disturbing me with this stupid act.’ I jerked a thumb at the door. ‘I’d like to think what just happened back there was you unable to keep your hands off me, but I think it was more about you proving a point.’
Fear lit his eyes before he glanced away. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a horny
guy. You’re a babe. We burn up the sheets. Seemed like you came here for one last fuck, so I obliged.’
Clamping down on the burgeoning hurt making my chest ache, I mustered a sneer. ‘If you’re trying to shock me into walking out of here, think again.’
I leaned forward, getting into his face. ‘I’m onto you.’
He pushed back from the desk and stood, putting some distance between us. ‘Look, you knew the type of guy I was right from the start. I don’t do emotion. I don’t do commitment. And I certainly don’t do anything past its expiration date.’
He whirled back to face me, anger bracketing his mouth. ‘Remy came back, we were finished, so I made it easy on the both of us. No drawn-out goodbyes. No empty promises to stay friends.’ He made a chopping motion. ‘A swift break.’
‘So you did me a favour and I should be thanking you?’ I slow-handclapped as I stood and advanced towards him, projecting an outer calm when inside I was a seething mess of wrath. ‘Bravo. Thanks for taking something special and tainting it with your asshat behaviour.’
Surprise widened his eyes imperceptibly before the nonchalant mask slid back into place. ‘We had phenomenal sex, babe. Nothing special about that.’
‘You’re full of crap.’ I laughed, a harsh sound devoid of amusement, while I resisted the urge to slap him silly. ‘Want to know what I think?’
‘No,’ he snapped, his lips compressing into a thin line as he feigned boredom, glancing around the room at anything but me. Coward.
‘You like to hide behind that bad-boy façade but inside you’re so soft you’re practically a marshmallow.’
Okay, so it lacked the delivery I’d envisaged in my head but at least it got his attention as he resumed glaring at me again.
‘I bet you got those tattoos as part of your quest to be the bad boy, because that’s what you believed you were.’ I softened my tone as his jaw clenched, wanting to prod him into a reaction but unsure how far to push. ‘But you’re not bad, Tanner. You could never be bad and I’d like to stick around awhile and prove that to you.’
‘Already told you, I’ve got work to do,’ he said, deliberately misinterpreting what I meant.
‘Don’t do that, make me feel more stupid than I already do for coming here and laying myself open to you.’ My voice cracked a little as my bravado faded.
What if I’d misread our relationship entirely?
It took less than two seconds for his expression to crumple and, relieved, I mentally yelled ‘hallelujah’. A breakthrough.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, leaning against the back of the sofa, swiping a hand across his face. ‘I’m a shit.’
‘You’re a guy out of his comfort zone.’ I perched next to him but didn’t touch him, no matter how badly I wanted to. ‘But I promise to be gentle with you.’
He flinched like I’d struck him. ‘Unlike me. Fuck, I can’t believe I took you like a madman before. And you were right. It was to drive you away once and for all. To show you what a prick I really am. But I forgot about the part where I can’t get enough of you and...I went nuts. I’m sorry.’
‘Do you hear me complaining?’
This time, I risked placing a hand on his forearm. He startled and shrugged it off, like I’d electrocuted him.
‘You deserve so much better than me. Can’t you see that?’ He turned towards me, bleakness darkening his eyes to ebony. ‘I’m no good for you.’
‘I’ve spent my entire life having other people make decisions for me and pretending I’m okay with it. No more.’ I snagged his hand, holding on tight when he tried to snatch it away. ‘Don’t you get it? You can’t push me away no matter how hard you try. I like you, Tanner King.’
My chest tightened with the magnitude of what I had to say but if I didn’t get the words out now, I never would. ‘I may even be falling in love with you and if there’s one thing I learned over the last year it’s to fight for what I want.’
He didn’t bolt at the L word, which I took as a good sign. What wasn’t a good sign was the way all colour drained from his face and for a moment I thought he’d pass out.
‘You don’t mean that—’
‘Stop telling me what to think or say or do.’ I squeezed his hand, wishing I could infuse some of my belief into him. ‘I’ll put up with a lot but not that. Never that.’
I could see the war he waged as every conflicting emotion flickered across his face. Hope with hopelessness. Belief with disbelief. Incredulity with incredible, heart-warming anticipation.
I recognised them because I’d fought the same war over the last few days, but I’d come out on the other side, determined to be a victor.
‘You’re heading back to your old life. Your family. I’ll only drag you down.’ He sounded desperate, plucking at any excuse to keep us apart. It meant nothing. I’d faced harsher artillery from the Prendigast firing squad and come out on top.
‘If you’re going to eavesdrop, make sure you do it properly,’ I said. ‘I don’t trust my family. I’m staying at Remy’s.’ I leaned closer so he couldn’t misunderstand. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
He didn’t speak for a long time after that and I let him process.
It had taken me three days to get to this point and even then I probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Makayla’s pep talk.
‘I don’t think I can be the man you want,’ he whispered, sounding so bereft that something inside me shattered.
I knew what I said next could ultimately make or break us so I chose my words carefully, willing him to see the real me, willing him to believe.
‘Why? Because you’ve never had a real relationship? Because you don’t trust easily? Because your upbringing mucked you up so badly you don’t think you’re good enough?’
I slid to the floor, kneeling in front of him, hanging onto both his hands for dear life, imploring him to listen.
‘We’ve both got trust issues. Hell, I didn’t trust myself for so many years I can barely trust anyone else. But you showed me differently.’ I gripped his hands tighter. ‘You think I used you to get over my past? Maybe that was true at the start. But somewhere along the way I changed. Because you changed me.’
Emotion tightened my vocal cords and I swallowed to ease the dryness. ‘I’m not ready to walk away from us, Tanner. What about you?’
Staring into his eyes was like staring into a fathomless dark pool. I couldn’t read what he was feeling. Maybe it was nothing. I hoped it was everything.
When his grasp on my hands tightened, hope sprang to life. He stood and drew me to my feet until we were toe to toe, only the barest whisper of a breath separating us.
‘How do I begin to make you understand how fucked up I am?’
Of all the things I’d envisaged him saying, that wasn’t it. But I remained silent, hoping he’d continue.
‘I want to believe you, Abby. I want to believe in us. But what if we’re not enough?’ His ragged breathing hitched. ‘What if I’m not enough?’
I waited, sensing he wasn’t finished, not by a long shot. My throat tightened and my eyes stung with unshed tears but I didn’t speak, fervently wishing that whatever he had to say would allow us to move forward, together.
‘I haven’t told anyone this, not even Remy...’ He sounded so morose, so heartbroken, I almost told him to stop. But his eyes had glazed, as if lost in painful memories, and I knew he had to purge whatever was bugging him if we were to have any chance. ‘My dad hated me. From the time I was old enough to understand, probably around four, I felt it. Like he couldn’t stand the sight of me.’ Pain darkened his eyes and he blinked slowly, like waking from a coma. ‘He did a good job of masking it when Mum or Remy were around, but if was just the two of us...man, the guy was a prick.’
My heart ached for what Tanner had gone through as a kid. My dad might have messed with my head, but at least he’d lik
ed me. He’d never been deliberately cruel or condescending. He’d just expected me to do whatever he said and I’d been the idiot to put up with it.
‘As I grew older, I could tell Mum couldn’t stand him either and she was putting on a brave face for Remy and me. We’d spend all our time with her, even when he was home. She was probably protecting us but I didn’t know it at the time...’
He dragged in a deep breath, released it. ‘The day she died Remy was out, I was in the backyard and I heard them arguing inside. I got scared because Mum never shouted, and she was yelling so loud I thought the neighbours would hear. So I snuck up onto the veranda and hid outside the back door.’
A deep frown slashed his brows as he continued. ‘Dad was saying some pretty horrific things. Flinging accusations like Mum had been having affairs and that she’d never loved him. Then he got to the good stuff...’
His expression contorted with grief and it took every ounce of my willpower not to haul him into my arms and tell him to stop. But if I did that, he’d clam up and I couldn’t risk it. He’d come this far and if he hadn’t divulged his secret to anyone before...well, I just hoped it indicated he trusted me and we had a shot in hell at a future once the truth came out.
‘Apparently he’d fallen out of love with her since Remy was born but he stuck around for four years. Then when he was going to leave her, she announced she was pregnant with me. He accused her of doing it deliberately, to trap him. And he hated me ever since, blaming me for trapping him in a marriage he didn’t want. He would’ve walked away but child support payments for two kids would’ve crippled him financially so he stayed and made our lives a misery. Mum fired back, telling him to stay away from Remy and me and keep his hatred to himself. So he called her some pretty shocking names and Mum stormed out. Probably needed some time to cool down, so she went for a drive...’
He shook his head, agony twisting his mouth. ‘She never should’ve driven in that state and ended up crashing into a tree not far from home.’