Ignite (Wicked Liaison Collection Book 4)

by Rose Harper

  It’s as if our fight is long forgotten as she comes and throws her arms around me, being the friend she was supposed to be back then. And I don’t have anything left in me to turn her away as I release all my pain on her shoulder. She slowly rubs my back, cooing in my ear about everything going to be all right. It nags at me because I’m still pissed at her, but it feels so good to have someone carry me in my darkest time. With Jake, I didn’t have that because him and her were the cause of my tears. But, with Keith, I let myself go on the last person I thought I ever would.

  “He doesn’t want me,” I mewl, the tears falling harder down my face as my heart continues to break inside my chest.

  Chapter Three

  Keith

  “She wants too much, Thane,” I huff, landing another punch. “It does not matter if she physically said it or not. Her eyes told me everything I need to know. She wants more than what I can offer her.”

  I have no idea what I’m going to do about the situation I find myself in now. It feels like everything is turned upside down, and I’m fighting to catch what little air I can. It’s been that way since Natalie jumped into that blasted cab last night. It felt like a piece of my soul went right along with her, as if beckoning her to come back to me. It’s hard to explain, but somehow, I feel… broken. And that’s not a feeling I’m too amorous with. The last time being all those years ago when I watched my childhood home burn to the ground from the shadows of the forest.

  “Did you even try to talk things out, or did you go in balls to the wall like you always do,” he muses, jolting each time I hit the punching bag.

  Breaking my stance, I straighten and wipe the seat from my brow as I lock a firm glare in his direction. “What do you think I did?”

  Nodding briefly, he rolls his eyes. “Balls to the wall it is then.” Shaking his head, he steps away from the bag to retrieve his water bottle and towel. “Do you not know anything, Mr. Uptight-And-Ignorant? Women don’t like it when you come at them trying to defend your actions. They like it when your defense is shown toward the people trying to hurt them. Being with a woman isn’t an exact science.”

  “Then why are you still single?” I ask, arching a brow in question.

  Shrugging, he takes a sip of his water before recapping it. “Simple. I haven’t met the right woman who can put up with everything I do yet.”

  “Is that still your excuse?” I scoff, dumbfounded.

  Snapping the towel off his neck, I see his gaze harden on me. I know I’m pushing my luck when it comes to Thane, because he actually does care about Natalie, but damn, I need advice that isn’t put in some type of riddle he thinks is easy to solve. I need it put to me straight.

  “What is this really about, Keith?” he fumes.

  Well, I thought I made myself pretty clear when I first said the problem being is she wants more, and I hate repeating myself, but I will just in case he missed it the first time.

  “She wants more!” I whisper-shout, flicking my arms out to my sides. “I can’t do more.”

  “Is this about your past, because seriously man, it’s not that big of a deal,” he groans.

  The blood running through my veins turns arctic. What the hell does he know about my past? There is only myself that knows about what went down when I was eighteen. Well, myself and the family I wronged, because I thought I was too hot to trot. But, even then, they wouldn’t say anything to anyone because that would in turn implicate them of illegal activity.

  “What do you know of my past?” I hesitantly ask, feeling my legs slowly beginning to turn to rubber.

  Sitting down next to him, I’m silent as I watch him inwardly debate. There’s something. I know there is. Thane isn’t the kind of man to just throw things like that out there unless he has the information to back it up. He’s not like that; never has been.

  My heart drops to my stomach as his head slowly turns to me, his eyes void of any true emotion. “I know you were into peddling drugs. If that’s what you’re asking?” He gives me that little spill, but there’s something else in his eyes. It’s as if he knows more than he’s letting on.

  I’m completely speechless.

  “Wha—ho—huh?” I spit and sputter, trying to backtrack this conversation and backtrack it fast.

  “Duh, duh, duh… How did I know about it?” he inquires, raising the towel to his head and wiping the sweat away. He’s smiling, but I see the humor doesn’t reach his eyes as he stares across the gym. “You’re not the only one that checks people out, my friend. I may be a few year’s older than Natalie, but I’m just as paranoid as you are; maybe even more. Especially, when it comes to the money I’ve worked hard for.”

  And the shitty thing about it is, I still don’t know what he does for a living. Yes, he’s successful, apparently, since I’m the one overseeing his finances. However, what he does to make that money I do not know. He’s a very private person, and even me being his best friend doesn’t constitute knowledge of the personal variety when it comes to him.

  What happened to Thane to make him this way? I know I’m fucked up, but with good reason. So, what’s his? Every person has a backstory, it just depends on what choices you make whether it’s completely fucked up or not.

  Withdrawing into myself, his words forces my mind to go back to that night I made the biggest mistake of my life. One so big, it still follows me to this day, floating in the shadows awaiting the time it can come out to play with everything I’ve worked so hard for.

  “You sure you want to do this, boys?” Cash? Nash? —or whatever the hell is name is—barks out to the me and the other six boys I’m standing next to. “Once you’re in, you’re in for life. The only way you get out is in a pine fucking box with a bullet between your eyes.”

  I want freedom. I want to be able to make my own choices, to show people that I’m an adult and my choices are my own. Fuck Dad. Fuck Mom. Fuck my baby sister, and fuck my baby brother. Fuck them all. I’ll prove them all wrong. I’ll make them rue the day they ever thought to tell me I would be nothing more than a pathetic little tyrant that doesn’t live up to anything.

  Nodding my head, I eye the leader. “Hell yeah! I don’t know about those fuckers, but I’m ready. What do I have to do?”

  Being only sixteen at the time, I know the whole world is at my feet. I can be who I want to be, make my own choices, because that’s what men do. And I’m a motherfucking man. It’s time to go big or go home.

  Coming to a stop in front of me, he eyes me skeptically. “What’s your name, boy?”

  Swallowing hard, I reply, “Luca McKayne, Uh—”

  “The name is Cash, but you’ll address me as sir, boy.” The leader chuckles menacingly. “Or you’ll be the first to go.”

  I barely refrain from trembling from his soulless gaze, his eyes being blacker than night as they trail up and down my body.

  “Yes, Sir,” I mimic his earlier words, never once taking my eyes from him.

  Giving me another maniacal smile, he steps forward. I dare not show my fear of him. I may be a man, but I can see danger as clear as day and know when to keep my mouth shut. “Then let’s play, bitch boy.”

  And play we did.

  Blinking rapidly, I shake my head once before turning my eyes on Thane. Seeing his have taken on a worrisome gaze, I smile briefly. “Where did you go just now?”

  Shaking off the unsettling feeling I got from my flashback, I stand up to my feet. It’s time to get back to the callous, cold persona I’ve perfected over the years. “It is nothing, I assure you. But, I do need to get up to the office. Lunch?” I ask, eyeing him.

  He silently stares up at me, as if to tell me this conversation isn’t over. I beg to differ. He may know some of the things that happened in my past, but I’m just like him in that fact, he’s not going to get the details. The information he spouted is public record, but the other stuff is something I had buried when I made my first million as a financial advisor. Even if no one is supposed to know, even I know nothin
g is buried so far people can’t find it if they’re really looking; no matter how much money you pad the politician’s pockets. Your record can always be retrieved. If there have been no changes in your identity. And I made sure to cover every track I left behind when I was eighteen. That’s what worries me in this moment. How did Thane get my information if he doesn’t know my true name?

  Luca McKayne died in that fire for all intents and purposes, which is why I’ve been as lucky as I have been to fly under the radar when it comes to those people. But, with the way Thane is looking at me right now, I’m not going to be hidden for much longer if he keeps searching for shit. I should be angry, but every person has a right to know the logistics if the person in question is handling their multi-million dollar account.

  “Keith,” he says my name in warning. “You can run all you like, but I will find out what this is all about. Just remember, I’m your closest ally and it would be a pity for me to learn about this on my own instead of from you. Trust me, I have my ways of getting the information I’m seeking.”

  I have no doubt about that. If anything, Thane is a persistent little shit that reminds me so much of myself when I was his age. And that makes me just a little hesitant of just what lengths he’s willing to go, and what resources he’s willing to use, to get the information I’m withholding. Because no one needs this shit on their conscience, and I know Thane would do everything in his power to make it right and get himself killed in the process. That’s not something I’m willing to do. Why does he think I’ve kept my circle small? I didn’t do that shit on purpose. I knew, one day, that I’d have to disappear again. And the less people I’m close with, the better.

  Chapter Four

  Natalie

  Be professional. Be professional. Be professional.

  That same mantra has been rolling over and over in my mind since I began my morning routine. Yet, I still find myself hesitating to walk through the door and go to work, even though, I’ve branded it into my mind that nothing Keith and I shared was special, that it was all just a game to get me into bed with him.

  Angela had sat quietly beside me and let me cry, rant, and do anything else I needed to when I came up with that conclusion. I don’t know how it came to be, but the longer I was with her, the more I found I could breathe easier as I let everything just slip away. It felt great to be able to talk to someone again; to feel vulnerable when for so long I’ve been trying to stay strong.

  I finally allowed myself to listen to her side of the story, seeing the truth shining bright in her eyes, as we both sat cross legged on my futon and ate an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s. I know it’s pathetic I’m taking her at her word, and giving her a second chance when it’s my moto never to do that. But, if anyone saw her face, they would know she was being completely earnest in her explanation. That it truly was a mistake, and Jake, the dipshit, did get her drunk.

  Plus, the fact of her coming out, after a lot of probing on my part, that Jake is the ex-boyfriend she was always talking about, didn’t surprise me in the least. It should have. But, I think in the back of my mind I always had that nagging feeling it was true. With the way he used to stare at her as if she were his property, and that he would never let me be alone with her. I’m just speechless it took me this long to figure it out. All with the help of Angela, of course. I didn’t know how much my hatred for the two of them clouded my judgement until now. I’m just glad her and I reconnected. I never knew just how lonely I was until I saw her on my stoop last night.

  Shaking my head from side to side, I bring myself from my thoughts to one again look at the bane of my existence on this Friday morning. My door knob. Because all I have to do is turn that, and make my way to the office, pretending like nothing between Keith and I happened. It’s going to be hard, but it’s something that needs to be done. I need to purge him from my mind, and get back to what really matters. Myself. I’m tired of being classified as ‘not good enough.’ I want to mean something to someone. For the love we share to be the only reason our hearts beat inside our chests.

  I want the fairy tale love all little girls fall for when they’re younger, but very rarely get when they’re older.

  “Come on! Don’t be a wuss,” I whisper, trying to psych myself up.

  I make an attempt for it again, and just as I’m about to reach it, my hand starts shaking so fucking bad I can’t even grip the metal knob. It’s like my hands detoxing or something. It frustrates me that my mind wants to get through with this, but my body is trying to rebel against it. Stupid bitch, she better get onboard, or I’m going to chop the motherfucker off and take the window.

  “You know, it’s not going to bite you,” A voice says from behind me, causing me to freak out all over again, but for a completely different reason.

  A scream works its way up my throat, and I belt it out before I can stop it. Dropping all my belongings on the floor, I do this shimmy and shake shit before tripping over my heels and face planting against the door. Whipping around, my back meets the door as my hair falls over my eyes. My heart starts beating out of my chest as I stare at Angela leaning against my Kitchen entry way, smirking. Why the hell is she still here? I could swear she left last night.

  “You scared the shit out of me!” I yell, placing a hand over my heart. “What are you doing here?”

  Smiling shyly, she looks down to her feet before meeting my gaze again. “I may or may not have passed out in front of the fridge when I went to get the second pint of ice cream. You kind of kept both of us up until about 2 hours ago.”

  I give her a blank stare. There’s no way. “You passed out in front of the fridge? As in, passed out in the middle of my floor?”

  Nodding briskly, she chokes on a laugh. “Yup, right in front of your fridge, and I woke up with my hand still on the door and my legs wrapped around one of your chair legs.”

  And I’m the fucked up one? Bitch just ate linoleum for breakfast.

  “The fuck? Were you drunk when you came over? Because that’s the only way you could’ve passed out.”

  “Look at your bed, Missy!” she chortles, completely at ease in front of me now. “Ice cream isn’t the only thing you shoved down my throat.”

  Craning my head to the side, slowly, my sides nearly spit in two as I hold in my laughter. I notice two empty vodka bottles and five empty Seagram’s. We did not get tanked last night. I would have remembered it, wouldn’t I?

  “We did not do that, did we?” I ask, feeling hot all of a sudden.

  “Again,” she giggles. “Yup. You drank an entire bottle of vodka and three Seagram’s.”

  “How am I not dancing through the streets naked right now?” I ask no one in particular. “I should still be wasted.”

  It had been forever since I allowed myself to let go and get a little wild. And last night, was apparently wild. I’m just confused I don’t remember it. The last thing I remember last night was her spouting shit about dicks going up the bum, and how I need to do that to Keith to keep him in line.

  Oh shit! Yes, that’s a definite drunk conversation. Holy shit! I just got bombed and didn’t even know it.

  Bringing my eyes back to Angela, mine widen in horror. “You didn’t let me use my cell phone, did you? I may be able to stand you now, but I’ll kick your ass if you did.”

  Her cheeks turn a shade of red as she stares at anything but me. Grim Reaper, take me now!

  “Angela!”

  “What?!” she throws her arms out, like that makes it all better. Yeah, big fat chance of that! “It’s not like I can get into the damn bathroom cabinet when you’re holding it from the inside with string tied around the handles! Where you got string, I’ll never know.”

  My mouth falls open in shock as my stomach rolls in waves of nausea. “Please, tell me I didn’t get that low. Please.”

  Clicking her tongue against her cheek, she cringes. “Oh, it gets worse. Trust me.”

  Slapping a hand over my eyes, I will the floor to swallow me alive
. “What all happened?”

  She’s silent for a minute, and that has me removing my hand from my eyes to stare her down. I spy her biting her lip to keep from bursting at the seams with laughter. And this ladies and gentlemen is the face of pure fucking evil!

  “I can’t really explain it, because you deleted everything on your phone and told me, ‘that serves him right.’”

  I am so going to hell, and I don’t even know why.

  ***

  Poking my head through the door, I hear a shuffle inside and instantly back out of it. My nerves are all twisted in my stomach, and it feels like I’m going to vomit all over this pristine floor. I should so have called in this morning, but now, I can’t go back and do it again. I now have to face the piper, and reverse the damage I did last night while I was doing God knows what in my drunken stupor.

  Biting my lip, I look down both ways of the hallway. When my eyes meet Debbie, a secretary/office fuck toy, I cringe but smile and wave slightly at her. She gives me a genuine smile, her black, luxurious bob swaying just slightly as she waves back at me as if nothing at all is about to pop off. Yes, it must be nice to be completely oblivious to the hell storm my drunken self concocted.

  Tapping my foot against the floor, I try to figure out a plan. When I remember the compact case just inside my purse I nearly cry out in relief. Maybe if I poke that through the door first, I’ll be able to see if he’s inside the office. When he isn’t, I can make my way to mine and slam the door before he can confront me.

  Rummaging through my behemoth of a purse, I finally come up for air with said compact in my clutches. One small victory in my corner! I smile despite the shit I’m currently facing. Hesitantly making my way toward the door, I flip it open and slowly stick it through the crack. It focuses on the wall of windows close to my office door. Slowly reangling it, I do a slow sweep of the office and come up empty. The breath I didn’t know I had been holding rushes through my lips.