Twist of Fate (Kings of Chaos Book 6)

by Shyla Colt

  “No.”

  “Then why are you offering to take me out tonight? You’ve made it clear where we stand ... or have you changed your mind?”

  “About?” she asks dryly. Her voice is even, but the slight tremor in her hand gives her away.

  “This unexplained thing that exists between us.”

  “Please, attraction is nothing but a biological response.”

  “You’re wrong,” I say.

  “I’m sure you own a mirror. We both know you’re easy on the eyes.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Are you trying to tell me you think you’re ugly?”

  “Am I?” I wink as she scoffs. “About attraction. It’s a precursor to a deeper level of compatibility.”

  She licks her lips, and I step closer.

  “I can see the want in your eyes, Xia. Why fight it?”

  “Be-because mixing business with pleasure could be disastrous, and I don’t do casual sex.”

  “Nothing about what will happen between us will be casual.” Tiny bumps cover her bare arms, and her eyes dilate. “We’ve spent the past month dancing around one another. If this thing was going to wane it would’ve.”

  “You are the one who continues to feed it with those comments and those knowing eyes.” The accusatory tone and anger that flashes, darkening her eyes to a nearly black color, make my skin tingle.

  I want to be on the receiving end of all that fire.

  “Are you trying to convince yourself of that, or me? ’Cause I’m not buying it. This is a two-way street.”

  She growls and her nostrils flare. “Cocky.”

  “Confident and honest. Life’s too short to deny yourself the things you really want.” I break eye contact as the weight of the past year slams into me. The demon raises up inside of me. She’s right to resist. You don’t deserve a second glance. If she knew what I’d believed in the past and how I’d acted, she’d never speak to me again. I trace her full lips longingly with my eyes. She shivers, and her lips part like a flower in the sun. “You make it impossible to walk away,” I whisper. Stepping closer, I place a hand on either side of her body as I pin her to the counter with my bigger frame. “Do you really want me to leave you alone, Xia? Tell me you don’t like the things I say or the way I make you feel, and we’ll never have this problem again.”

  “We should …” Her voice trails off.

  “That’s not what I asked you.”

  Her lids close halfway. “I don’t—”

  “Give me tonight. One evening without road blocks or opposition. Let me show you how it could be between us.”

  “Shayne—”

  “What do you have to lose?”

  She shakes her head.

  “All I need is one word. Aren’t you tired of bottling it all up? I see you when no one else around us does. You hide in plain sight with those fake smiles and that compliant behavior. Happiness never reaches your eyes. I want to spend a day with the mysterious woman I see lurking in those dark eyes. I want an entire evening with the real Xia.”

  “Okay,” she whispers.

  It’s a Herculean effort not to close the small distance between us and brush her plump lips. I push away from her. What’s between us deserves more than a rush job. I will take my time and build up instead of tear down. I’m a man on a quest, not just to win the fair maiden, but to prove I’m worthy of good things. I came close to the edge; steps away from being a complete monster. After so much destruction, I long to create.

  “I’ll plan everything. You relax for once.”

  “But I know the city.”

  “I’m a resourceful man.”

  She studies me for a moment. “I’m not the only one who hides. I see you, too … hidden behind the seemingly harmless façade you exude, there’s something hungry.”

  ***

  I try not to swallow my tongue as she steps out onto her front porch and I take in the deep cut black dress with a tiny gold pattern. I can see the swell of her breasts and a long, graceful neck. Who knew a neck could be this damn sexy? Unlike some of the girls who hang around the club, her face isn’t shellacked with makeup, but she’s been transformed from the woman I work with. Her lips look like they’re coated with the juice from a dark berry. I want to lick them to see if they taste as good as they look.

  I clear my throat. “You look amazing.”

  She smiles up at me. “So do you.”

  It’s the only date I can ever remember making an effort for. In a pair of dark jeans and a black button down shirt, I feel like I should be headed to a wedding. We don’t throw on duds like these unless we’re trying to stay out of jail or getting hitched. Sometimes, not even then.

  “Thanks. Have you ever been on a motorcycle before?”

  “I have. And,” lifting her dress, she sticks out her tennis shoe clad foot, “I’m prepared.”

  I laugh, and the ice is broken. It’s a whole different experience. She’s relaxed and open. It’s like a light has been turned on from inside because I can only describe her as radiant. She hands me a large black wallet with cat’s ears and whiskers. My lips twitch.

  “What? I like cats.”

  “I said nothing.” I store it in my saddle bag. She climbs on behind me with confidence that assures me she’s not going to do anything stupid while I’m on the highway. “You have done this before.”

  “One of my best friends, Andy, has a bike. I was there for his obsession and love fest from about fourteen on.”

  “I hope he graduated to something decent now.”

  “Oh, yeah. He’s got a Harley. He and his wife love to go for rides.”

  “Are you friends with her?”

  “Actually, yeah. They’re high school sweethearts, and the best friends I’ve hung on to from childhood. Having a front row seat to their blossoming romance was interesting to say the least, and stressful as hell until they figured it out.”

  I laugh as I pull out of the drive and hit the highway. I like the feel of her thighs wrapped around me and her arms around my waist. Her breasts are firm and large where they’re pressed against my back.

  When we arrive at our destination, I find parking and help her off the motorcycle.

  “I hope you’re feeling adventurous.”

  We make our way over to Chinatown, and she cranes that swan-like neck to take in the round, red paper lanterns hung on strings above our heads, and the ornate decorations on the buildings.

  “I think we should get food, and take our photos first. From what I read, those two things become harder as the night goes on.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I went to Chinatown Summer Nights. Probably a few years ago for research.”

  “No work talk tonight,” I remind her.

  “You like giving orders, don’t you?”

  I shrug. “I prefer to call them gentle suggestions. I’m used to running things back home.”

  “Yeah, I’m not.”

  “I disagree. You could give a drill sergeant a run for his money on the food truck.”

  “I meant in taking orders.”

  “You haven’t been handled by the right person.” When she curls up her lips, I ignore her skepticism. It’ll be my pleasure to show her how well she can take orders. “I hope you like lobster.”

  “Depends on the source.”

  “I knew you’d be a food snob. That’s why I checked Yelp. We’re headed to the Lobsta Truck.”

  “You chose well, but since we’re on the company dime, I plan on stuffing myself with sweets. Remember, you wanted this.” I tilt my head to the side, and she laughs. “The full Xia experience. I’m a candy-aholic.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. What are some of your favorites?”

  “I love the sour sweet things, like sour cherries, Sour Patch Kids, gummy bears, and Swedish Fish.”

>   The conversation is light as we weave through the crowd and grab our lobster rolls, Cape Cod potato chips, and freshly squeezed lemonade. I never put much thought into food before. Now I’m savoring flavors and thinking about the prep work that went into what I’m eating. It’s a culture shock as we travel the streets full of people.

  I can hear a few different languages being spoken, and skin tones and styles are a hodgepodge. I’m impressed by the diversity they’ve managed to cram into one sector. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. This is the difference between San Mateo and Los Angeles. They don’t call it a melting pot for nothing.

  We make our way to a station where the renowned artist, Nori Shirasu, is creating nothing short of magic with a paint brush. This is way more than I was expecting when I read an artist would be here.

  I thought of the cheesy Sanskrit names we used to see done at the local fair. I’m out of my depth here. I peer at Xia out of the corner of my eye. She’s enraptured by the man kneeling on what appears to be a mat. His setup is simplistic. A throwback to days gone by with his brown glazed bowls full of ink, ink pads, paint brushes, and tools that are foreign to me.

  He holds himself like a warrior—one arm out in front of him, poised to strike—only he creates instead of destroys. Hip hop comes from a speaker as he sets fire to an empty canvas, turning the blank space into art.

  I fast realize how small my world has been even with the travel for the club. As the sun sets, the lanterns are turned on. Neon lights molded against the sharply pointed ends of the buildings reminiscent of pagodas from Asia create a unique accent.

  “Do you have anything like this where you’re from?”

  “In San Mateo? No, it’s a small city outside of San Diego, which has a completely different vibe than Los Angeles.”

  “How are you liking it here?”

  “It’s as good as any place. This is the first chance I’m getting to experience the city since I arrived.” I’ve been in L.A. for business before for the club, and the last thing on my mind at the time was sight-seeing.

  We pass a booth that features pastries and sweets, and I pause. “Sweet stop?”

  The smile she gives me is genuine and blinding. I feel like I’ve been sucker punched. I thought she was beautiful before, but now she’s stunning. It’s not the dress or the makeup, it’s her essence.

  I wait patiently as she picks out a few pastries.

  “You should never hide yourself away.”

  She glances up at me. “You’re the only one who thinks that. My family is very close-minded, conservative, and overbearing. It used to be my mission to get things changed, but I can see now I’ve gone about it the wrong way.” She shakes her head.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not what they want me to be. I never was, and they think magically after so many years that’ll change.”

  “And what is it you want?”

  “To have my own truck and be myself. I’m really not that complicated.”

  I can’t find any fault in what’s she said. It’s a decent desire. “Why is that a problem?”

  “Because in my family, women tend to stay in the background, and fit the Southern bell mode.” She shoves another bun into her mouth, ending the talk. “Look, a photo booth! Let’s get pictures.”

  She grabs my hand and pulls me inside. A jolt of electricity sparks between us. Our gazes met as we step inside the tiny rectangle. Sitting on the stool, I pat my lap. When she lowers herself to perch on my knee, I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her back to my front. She squirms.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I whisper into her ear.

  She shivers. The screen counts down, and we pose. The bulb flashes. I wrap my hand around her neck.

  “Xia.”

  She turns her body toward me, eyes half-lidded and lips parted. I move in slowly, and our lips brush. Whoosh. The curtain opens. We jerk apart.

  “Sorry.” The teenage couple laughs as they replace the curtain and rush away. With the moment ruined, we force our attention back to the remaining two photos. The rest of the evening is less eventful but revealing.

  I’m almost sad when it’s time to say goodbye and I return her home. “Tonight was fun, but getting in deeper would be a mistake. I have a lot going on right now. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.” She’s a queen holding court—beautiful, regal, and trying so hard to be aloof.

  “You worried about protecting my feelings? That’s sweet. I think I can handle it though.”

  “Let’s just leave tonight where it belongs … in the past.”

  Gripping the door frame, I lean in, meeting her steady gaze. I see the heat burning there for me. I can slow it down, but I have no intention of stopping it.

  “What are you so afraid of?”

  Her eyes soften. “Everything, which is exactly why I’m going to say goodnight,” she whispers.

  “Good night, Xia,” I say as I step back and she closes the door. I feel like I’m leaving her in a tower of solitude. The woman I’d spent the evening with disappeared before my eyes. She slipped through my fingers like sand. I’ll bide my time. I’m a patient man. A good hunter is well acquainted with waiting.

  Chapter Three

  Xia

  “Xi, come into the office. I want to talk to you.”

  My spine stiffens. Closing my eyes, I swear under my breath. The last thing I need right now is to be in an enclosed space with my father.

  “Is it that important, Dad? I had a really long day.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  I exhale and turn to follow him away from the kitchen full of buffers and distractions. I’ve avoided being alone with him since he introduced Shayne. My anger is a living creature that grows in size and intensity daily. How he can be so brilliant and so dense at the same time, I’ll never understand. My mother refers to the syndrome as being so smart you’re stupid.

  After closing the door behind us, he sinks into the seat behind the small oak desk. I lean against the wall.

  “What do you need?”

  “How’s Shayne working out?”

  I want to roll my eyes. Everything revolves around Ellis and Casp right now. It’s a Merry-Go-Round I’m ready to jump off. This toxic circle is crushing my spirit and stealing away all the good things that make me who I am. Stepping back, I can see that now.

  “Haven’t the boys told you all about him?”

  “Of course, but I want to hear it from you. You spent the majority of time with him and they’re being pulled in so many different directions right now, he’s the last of their worries.”

  “Poor babies,” I say sarcastically.

  “Is that supposed to be funny?” My father’s brow furrows and his thick eyebrows turn into one fuzzy caterpillar. I’m skating on thin ice, and for once I’m hoping I fall through. I’ve tiptoed and bowed down enough. He’s not Chef Richard here. He’s a dad who’s missed the mark one too many times.

  “No, Dad. It isn’t.” I swallow the sharp words I want to let fly like poison-tipped darts.

  “I know you’re overworked right now. All I need is maybe ten minutes, and I’ll let you be on your way.”

  “You have no clue how exhausted I truly am,” I whisper, unable to hold back the swell of words I’ve kept at bay for too long. Anger flickers inside of me like a candle in the wind.

  “I know I’m asking a lot of you right now, but once we have Smoke II up and running, we’ll be able to have Shayne take over a good portion of your responsibilities, and we’ll hire more help for him to train.”

  I scoff. “Do you really think that’s my problem? That I’ve logged too many hours and I’m approaching burn out?”

  “Isn’t it?” His eyebrows arch.

  I snap. “No,” I all but scream.

  “Pumpkin, what’s wrong?” Hi
s gentle tone is an abrasion against an irritated area.

  “Everything about this new business venture is absolute bullshit, Dad.”

  “Watch your mouth, little girl.”

  “No,” I bark. I shake my head from side to side and let it rip. “How dare you give them a second truck when I’ve yet to get mine. You made us a deal. We go to school, put the work in, make the plan, and we get our own truck. I’ve worked just as hard as everyone else, patiently waiting my turn, and then you pull this. I mean, did you ever intend to hold up your end of the bargain when it comes to me? This was a kick in the teeth. You have to see that!” I throw my hands up above my head and let them slap down on my thighs. The crack echoes through the room and the sting of pain adds to my hurt.

  “I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about the second truck. This wasn’t personal. It was a good business decision. The time was right for them to expand. Any longer and they’d be losing business. We both saw they’d outgrown just one. You have to strike while the iron is hot. I taught all of you that.”

  “I could give you that if you had a plan for mine waiting in the wings. You have one, right? You know, when I’ll be launching my truck solo. ’Cause you’ve thought about my path toward running my own business, right?”

  He opens his mouth and closes it. He averts his eyes, unable to hold my gaze as the silence deafens.

  “See, that,” I point my finger, “is what I thought. I’m done.” Shaking my head, I sneer at the man I held up as my champion. The one I’d tried to alter myself to please, and worked myself to near collapse in horribly failed attempts to gain his favor and attention.

  “Are you giving me your resignation?” His shoulders tense and his voice takes on a hint of panic.

  Not yet. “No, I’m declaring my independence. Shayne is doing well. We lucked out with him. He’s a fast learner and a hard worker. He’ll be ready when the time comes to run a crew and do it the Fresco way. I guarantee you that. Remember, you made your choices … because from now on, I’ll be making mine.”

  Done with the conversation, I turn and open the door. One of my father’s biggest flaws has always been his inability to apologize.