THORNE: Rose's Dark Secret: (Book 2)

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THORNE: Rose's Dark Secret: (Book 2) Page 1

by R. B. O'Brien




  THORNE: Rose’s Dark Secret

  R. B. O’Brien

  Copyright © 2016 R. B. O’Brien

  THORNE: Rose’s Dark Secret

  Copyright © 2016 R. B. O’Brien

  Cover Art by Lilah E. Noir

  Kindle Edition

  Published by: R. B. O’Brien

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and can be blamed on my subconscious.

  contents

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  OTHER WORKS by R.B. O’BRIEN

  Author Bio

  Author’s Note

  WARNING: Contents HOT! Just a word about the nature of this book. Though a bit lighter than the first in the series, I would like to warn my readers that there are moments of-- perhaps, sort of, kind of, I really don’t think so, but you might—dubious consent. There are definitely elements of BDSM in a completely organic, no-this-is-no-club-scene way, and if that does not blow your hair back, I would say, this book is not for you. However, if you like angst. If you enjoy the dominant, alpha male. And if you like a character-driven story, then “fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.”

  Acknowledgements

  I would first like to thank my friends and family who let me go into my writing cave without asking…Your support makes my writing a reality.

  I would secondly like to thank my virtual family, The Wicked Pens Writers (WPW) and Mr. Blackthorne, for all their guidance, support, and knowledge. I would be lost without you. All I can say is thank goodness for the DM (both group and private) and Gal Chat. You know who you are. Our conversations have kept me out of the funny farm. Thank you to all of you who participated in my release party.

  A huge thank you to Mandi Calder, my PA, but also dear friend. Thank you for putting up with me! Wouldn’t want to be on this journey without you and wouldn’t be able to navigate it without you. Plus, it’s a lot of fun, ain’t it?

  Lilah E. Noir, graphic artist for my cover. Thank you is just a label. What I am really saying is: Thank fucking Christ you’re by my side daily to keep me going. Cheers to someday sipping red wine together as we bask in the afterglow of our success. Truly, your friendship is tried and true. And you, my dear, are one hell of a writer.

  Michael Dalton: How you find the time to fit me in and help me with everything you have going on in your life astounds me. I have great admiration for you. Thank you just isn’t enough. But still, I say it anyway. (Should I tell them just how responsible you are for…? Ssssh. Nah. I’d feel “rather”…LOL)

  And finally, to Lucas Black and Aiden Darke for helping me with authenticity, advice, and support. The male voice is hard to master. And North Carolina even more so. So I thank you both for encouragement, help, and yes, many smiles.

  There are dozens more of you I could thank—to all my friends, fans, followers, sharers, likers, and commenters on both Facebook and Twitter. Without you, none of this happens. Your daily support is what keeps me going. And trust me, I needed it over these last very difficult, very trying months. I have wanted to give up more times than I’d rather admit. So a huge THANK YOU.

  And now, I give you the much anticipated—THORNE: Rose's Dark Secret. May you enjoy and grab some tissues. I know I did.

  Chapter One

  We stood there looking at each other as my deeply buried past flashed before my eyes. Was I really going to finally tell my story? The story my mother had forced me to keep hidden? The story I never thought another living human being would ever know?

  I looked over at Victoria, Rose I reminded myself, hunched over, gasping for breath. Her hair had come slightly undone, wisps of blonde strands stuck to her moist face, blotched with the anguish of tears and humiliation. A part of me wanted to go to her, take her in my arms. This innocent flower. This gorgeous, untainted beauty who had deceived me, lied to me, even as she came undone under me.

  I shook my head. Tricks. Lies. She was not what she seemed. I didn’t have one clue who she really was. Not one clue. Could she have faked everything about her true nature? Her draw to me? Her orgasms? Her shyness? Her virginity? I had no idea.

  “Please,” she whispered again. “I need to explain. And I know. I know you are not a monster,” she repeated.

  And in that moment, my anger, the betrayal I felt, vanished somehow, and a calm came over me. I deserved this. For every year of lies, I deserved each, equal minute of my penance. “Go, Rose. Go back to the house. Ralph will take you when you’re ready. I’ll make sure Jennifer has everything ready. Your check will be cut. Call whomever it is you’re working with. I will meet them. I will tell them everything they want to know. You and I are done. Look to your future. Your very fortuitous future. And don’t look back.”

  “William…”

  “Go. Now,” I hissed.

  She was still on her knees in that beautiful dress and my emotional pull to her was out of my control as I found myself unknowingly stroking her damp hair as if bewitched. I ran my thumb across her eyes, trying to wipe away the salty stains of her sorrow and fought my desire to breathe in the sensual scent of her. I felt my cock twitch at the sight of submission before me, and I stepped away from her before I did something stupid. It was over and a part of me was thankful that it was.

  “Up,” I ordered. “Go.”

  She rose slowly from the concrete floor and her chest drew in and out in tortured little breaths. Her hands fumbled down her body, smoothing out the dress’s creases and wrinkles that had formed like little paper cuts in delicate skin. She froze and looked up to me. “Whatever it is. Whatever you have done. I love you. I know it couldn’t be what they say. I know you. You are a good man. Whatever this is. I know. I just know it is a misunderstanding.”

  “Victoria?” Both Rose and I turned to look at Mark, who had appeared from around the corner. “What’s going on here? People are waiting for you. There are agents who want to talk to you.” He looked from me to Rose. It was clear she had been crying. Clear something had happened between us. “Victoria?” His voice was staccato but not angry. He was confused. Mark stepped closer to her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  She began to speak, “Ummm…I just…my stomach. I mustn’t have eaten enough. I’m queasy. William came to help…”

  I let her continue, her words trailing off as I walked away and kept walking, through the main hall and right out the door.

  Ralph jumped out from inside of the Lincoln when he saw me passing. “Sir?”

  I waved him off. “Thanks, Ralph. Going to take a walk. Please be sure Ms. Rose gets home safely when she is ready. I need to c
lear my mind.”

  “Yes, sir. And Olivia?”

  I had completely forgotten about Olivia. I had no idea where she was or if she had gotten home safely.

  “If you see her. Please see to it that she is okay as well.”

  I pulled my cell phone out from the confines of my navy suit jacket and pressed her number. No answer and her voice mail came on.

  “You okay, Olivia? Please call me.”

  I began walking and walking until I found myself running aimlessly into the darkness, my mind taking me back to another darkness I had tried to bury.

  ***

  “Take a drag, you fucking pussy.” Malcolm was the ring leader. And his posse was never far behind. His father owned the town. He owned my father. My father had worked for him for as long as I knew.

  “Y’all go home and let us finish our paper route,” Jennifer hollered back.

  “Oh. So that’s how it is? Your dyke girlfriend will fight your battles now? Pussy,” he repeated and the others laughed. I was only fourteen but in these situations, I felt a lot younger.

  “Go fuck yourself, Malcolm.” I feigned bravado.

  “Yup. Pussy like your dad. But then again, he won’t be alive much longer, will he?”

  And then I just lost it. My dad had the last stages of lung cancer, the final nail in my mother’s coffin. After my brother died, she picked up drinking. Now that my father was going to die, she was never, ever sober. I knew she was doing more than drinking to assuage her pain.

  I flung my bike down and before I knew it, my fists were flying in the air and I was punching the ever-loving-shit out of Malcolm. And fuck. It felt good. I could hear the others screaming, but it was like I was under water, their pleas a faint murmur, as I wailed on Malcolm with a ferocity that startled even me.

  Amidst my anger, I heard a screech so loud, I finally snapped to. Jennifer stood there watching, her face covered in swollen blotches wet from tears, her chest convulsing to get breath. “Stop! William. Stop.” I stood up and looked at the bloody pulp of a boy on the ground, his cigarette still burning on the dirt beside his own bike. I looked at the others, faces filled with horror and something else. Respect.

  I had promised my father I would never smoke. But in that moment, I wanted to make a statement. I bent down and picked up the burning stub of the cigarette and stood over Malcolm’s face. He looked at me with bewilderment and I took my first and last drag of a cigarette. I inhaled slow and long and crouched down to blow the smoke in Malcolm’s shocked face, forcing down the cough that threatened to tear from my lungs. I felt powerful. And I felt no remorse. I had been dealing with this bullying forever. It would end today. I finally blew the smoke directly in his face with a deliberate slow stream, and he cringed.

  “This is what you wanted, isn’t Malcolm? For me to take a drag of your fucking cancer stick?”

  He wouldn’t answer me and trembled. And I liked it.

  “Answer me, you fucking coward. All that fucking money your family has isn’t doing you so good right now is it? Not feeling so rich and powerful right now, huh?”

  He actually started to cry. And I laughed.

  “Yeah. As I always knew. Don’t ever, ever come near me or Jennifer again. Do you understand? And if you ever mention my father’s name again, in any way, I will kill you. Do you understand me?”

  Could I kill someone? I doubted it. But it felt good saying it in that moment. In that moment, I just felt invincible, like if I said it, I could believe it. From the looks of the faces around me, they believed it too. And my monster raged. My monster was being born.

  “Answer me. Do. You. Understand?” I kicked dirt onto his face and held the still-aflame cigarette in his face.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  “Louder, Malcolm. I want all your gophers to hear you.”

  “Yes,” he said, starting to cough.

  I flicked the disgusting cigarette butt off my fingers.

  “Good. Then we’re clear. Get the fuck out of here.” I never saw another human being react as fast as Malcolm did that day. The others nodded in my direction as they mounted their dirt bikes and rode off, not once looking back.

  I looked at Jennifer and knew I was about to get a rash of shit. Instead, there was a gleam in her eye, and she smiled a big grin that spanned her entire face. We were best friends, loyal. I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding, and I mirrored her smile back.

  “Oh, shit,” I said patting my stomach and shoulder. “My bag.”

  Jennifer chuckled. “You numb-nut. We can’t very well finish our stupid paper route without the papers we have left to deliver.”

  “Be right back.”

  I hopped on my bike and took off to go back to get my bag. I felt freedom. I felt good. I felt victorious. But when I got there, Malcolm stood there, alone and frozen, his face lit up by the start of a fire.

  ***

  I arrived home, sweaty, breathless, confused.

  Jennifer opened the door and ran to me. I collapsed onto the white-painted porch, and she immediately drew me up into an embrace.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, William. What is this? What is going on? Where is Victoria? Olivia? Why are you like this? Where’s Ralph?”

  She drew her arms back from my waist and grabbed my face in her hands. “Look at me, Will.” Her eyes, amber and caring in that moment, darted between each of my eyes, back and forth, one to the other, searching deeply for answers. Sweat trickled down my forehead and into my mouth. The porch began to spin and I felt everything fading to black.

  I came to in the living room on the brown leather sofa. Jennifer sat by my side. I could see she had been crying.

  I sat up and she passed me a cup of water.

  All of the night’s events washed back over me. I took a long sip and lay back down.

  “Victoria just got here. She is waiting for you in her room. She just got here. Shall I go get her? She wouldn’t speak to me. She said she’d rather wait for you to get up.”

  “Wait. What? How long have I been out? Why is she here? Get her the fuck out of here, Jennifer. Pack all the shit you bought. Give her the check for the three months. But I want her gone.”

  “Jesus, Will. Slow down. What the fuck is going on? Tell me right now.”

  I looked at the clock over on the mantel. I had only been out for about thirty minutes. I looked deeply into Jennifer’s troubled eyes. “I’m sorry to have worried you.” I exhaled. “I knew this day would come, Jennifer. I knew. It’s time to pay the pied piper. And I don’t give a fuck. In fact, I’m ready.”

  Her eyes widened. She didn’t even need to ask. She knew exactly what I was referring to. “But…how? Does Victoria know? What happened, William?” She spoke just barely beyond a whisper.

  I began to get up, still feeling slightly woozy. “Let me go talk to her and get her on her way. Could you pack and get her check ready? Book her a hotel somewhere, a nice one, for a month, at least, so she can figure things out.”

  Jennifer sighed and I heard a shaky exhale. She was worried. Our secret had lain dormant for almost twenty years. We both feared this day would come. Somehow, we both knew that the truth would come calling before our primrose way to the everlasting bonfire ever arrived. But she knew when not to push me.

  “Let me draw you a bath. Pour you a scotch. Let’s talk when you’re calm, when you can think straight. I will make sure Victoria is okay.”

  I let out an overdue breath and shook my head in agreement as I rose fully from the couch to make my way over to my bedroom suite. I could hear the clink of the glass on the granite countertop as Jennifer poured me a drink. The sound soothed me as I removed my clothes. I sat down on the bed and ran my hands through my hair.

  Rose Wellington. Fuck. Mr. Wellington. Her grandfather, the grandfather I had heard about so many times over the course of the last three months from her. I didn’t know him. Just knew the name because of it. I guess he was a good man. And I winced thinking about how much Rose and I
actually had in common, both losing our father figures so young.

  I did lose my dad to lung cancer. Of course I did. I grew up outside Winston-Salem. There was hardly a person in town who didn’t smoke. Fuck. Cigarettes were like water or air. Most people would die without them. The fucking irony.

  “Hey,” Jennifer’s shadow made its way across my room. She quickly turned around when she saw my naked form. It made me laugh. She had seen me naked a million times. “All set. Go relax will you? I’ll go get Victoria’s things together and get her out of here. Booked the Brookstown Inn starting tonight. She can go as soon as I have everything ready. Then. Then you can tell me what the fuck has happened.”

  “Thanks, Jenny.”

  “You’re welcome, Will. You know I love you. We will work through this. Make no mistake about that. We are in this together.”

  She left me alone and I made my way into the master bathroom. Steam filled the room and I drew it into my lungs. I placed my glass on the side of the tub and sunk down into the heat of the water. Once comfortable, I picked up my glass, closed my eyes, and took a long, deep sip. It lightly burned my throat that way only scotch could and I kept the glass steady in my hand to sip slowly but often.

  Fuck. How had I gotten to this point? So close to making a difference. The Performing Arts Academy for the at-risk youth, a victory against those fuckers who basically killed my father--my childhood. And Victoria. Rose. She had fooled me, taken me as a fool. A chuckle escaped from deep within my gut. I had been duped. For the first time in my adult life, I had actually felt something, felt something real, I actually cared and, ha, check mate. That’s what monsters deserve, I suppose. Good for her.

  I put the perspiring glass against my lips and took another long sip. An overwhelming sickness swam through my veins at the thought of what I was about to face and what I had lost.

 

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