by Measha Stone
Indebted Heart
Windy City Book 3
By
Measha Stone
©2016 by Blushing Books® and Measha Stone
All rights reserved.
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Stone, Measha
Indebted Heart
EBook ISBN: 978-1-68259-735-4
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
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Table of Contents:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
About the Author
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Chapter One
Alex Tribelli switched lanes on the I-90 headed west toward Elgin to meet his father. Normally he wouldn't be heading out to the suburbs in the middle of the week, but he had been beckoned. And no one refused Paul Tribelli, least of all his only child.
Thankfully, the rush hour traffic had begun to die down before he'd been able to free himself from his office. Trying to hold down one career while launching a second was beginning to take its toll.
Although he loved advertising and the success he'd found with it, he longed for something more. Something more meaningful, something exciting, something that allowed him to be completely himself with no thoughts of apology or remorse. Opening up the new member's club Top Floor was just that sort of outlet. However, it meant spending more evenings working at the club for the opening, and working early mornings at the ad agency. His father had apparently grown tired of Alex's excuses of unavailability over the past few weeks and called him early that morning, demanding he come to his home after work.
The conversation hadn't been long. His father didn't even ask how he was doing. He simply told him to come over straight after work. The tone in his voice told Alex that arguing would be useless and besides, he hadn't seen the man in a couple of weeks, and he missed him.
Alex pulled his car up the driveway of a brick ranch house, the porch gently illuminated with soft yellow light. He left the car parked in front of the garage and walked up the walkway to the house. The summer sun had finally set, and the humidity of the day seemed slightly less annoying. The beckoning of the air conditioning inside made him quicken his step as he took the steps two at a time. The front door pulled open, and his father pushed the screen door to allow Alex entrance.
Paul Tribelli stood the same height as his son, matching him eye to eye. They shared equal stature as well. Alex's well-toned physique was a product of the gym, while Paul's was a tribute to his years of backbreaking construction work. Alex did not get his curly locks from his father. Paul sported a short cut of now dark gray hair, not a single curl in sight.
"Hey, Dad." Alex clapped his father on the back while pulling him into a tight hug. "Everything okay? You sounded pissed on the phone."
Paul shut the door and motioned toward the kitchen. "I made pasta." He walked past his son and lead them into the small eat in kitchen.
The room smelled the same to Alex as it had when he was a boy. Food was always cooking, either in the oven or on the stovetop. He'd spent his afternoons doing homework in the kitchen while his mother stirred a pot, rolled out dough, or chopped vegetables.
He took his seat at the cozy table that sat four comfortably, five in desperation. A plate of spaghetti was placed in front of him as well as his fork and knife. He shrugged o
ut of his suit jacket and placed it on one of the empty chairs. His father plated another serving and sat across from Alex.
"You're freaking me out. What is it?" Alex said getting up to grab a beer from the olive green refrigerator that had been part of his boyhood home.
"Two weeks since I've seen you." His father held up two fingers, wagging them in the air. A slight squint to his eyes, and a wrinkling of his cheeks summed up his emotional state.
"Dad, I'm sorry. Work—"
"Eh! Work!" He waved a hand through the air to cut him off. "I know how it is. I do." There had been many nights Alex would have dinner alone with his mother because his father was stuck on site. "It's just, I've missed you." He gave a shrug and dug into his pasta.
"Is that what you wanted? You could have just said so. I would have come."
"Would you have?" His father squinted again.
Alex took a pull of his beer and sighed. "I don't know." He knew in his heart he probably would have tried to push it off until the weekend. There was an open house for Top Floor going on that he had hoped to spearhead, but he had asked Bradley, another major investor that took a hands on approach in the management of the club, to take his place for the evening.
"There you go. Now eat." Paul pointed at the untouched pasta with his fork.
The two spent the rest of their meal talking about the usual. Paul gave him the details of the latest gossip he'd heard at the senior center, and Alex promptly teased him calling him an old woman. In truth, Alex was glad to see his father out and socializing. When his mother died two years ago, Paul lost himself for a while. He didn't want to see anyone or talk to anyone. He just wanted to grieve in a dark empty home. It took the empty threat of Alex throwing him into an old folks' home to get him to snap out of it. He'd raged at him for even having the idea. Alex took the verbal lashing willingly. His father slowly came back to him after that.
"Son." Paul leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on the table. Alex turned from the sink where he had just finished washing their dishes and leaned against the counter, giving his father his full attention. "I have a confession." He kept his eyes forward, not looking at Alex. "I have a favor to ask you, and I didn't want to ask you over the phone." He swung his deep green eyes to Alex, meeting his gaze. Alex noted the concern.
"Okay. What is it?" Alex tossed the towel he'd been drying his hands with onto the counter and folded his arms over his chest. "It can't be all that bad."
"No, no it's not bad. It's just you're so busy, and this, well, it's going to take some of your time." Alex felt a ping in his chest. After all of the things his father had done for him over the years, his father felt guilty about asking for some of Alex's time. Obviously, he needed to rearrange his schedule a bit better.
"Whatever it is, Dad, no problem. Consider it done. What is it?"
"Well, an old friend of mine—her daughter is moving to the city." He looked uncomfortable as he continued. "She's never lived in a big city before, grew up just south of St. Louis. Anyway, she doesn't know anyone here and well, I thought you might be able to show her around. Maybe introduce her to the girls?" Paul had always taken a fatherly interest in Alex's friends: Jessica, Kelly and Erin.
"I don't see how that's inconvenient. When is she arriving? I'm meeting everyone for dinner on Friday, she can join us." When his father didn't relax he thought of another worry. "You aren't trying to set me up, are you?" His father snapped his eyes to meet Alex's.
"No! Of course not!" He grumbled. "You'll find your woman, your way, in your time. Although, I will say that you sure are taking your sweet ass time!"
"Okay." Wanting to move away from the subject of his love life, he brought the topic back to the favor. "So, when is this girl arriving? Is she young? Going to school? Working?"
"She's about a year or two younger than you, I think. No school, her mother wasn't all that concerned with her education. She's got an interview lined up, some club downtown—don't remember which one she said. It's new."
"If it had been around for the last fifty years, would you know it?" Alex reached for the door to the fridge to grab a second beer.
"Smart ass!" His father chuckled from his chair, laughing until a bout of coughing took over. He gripped the edge of the table as the deep crackling cough became more fierce. Alex left the fridge open and moved to him, rubbing his back hard. Paul had been fighting off a harsh cough for over a month, and although Alex told him over and over to get to the doctor, his father refused.
Slowly the cough subsided, leaving Paul winded from the effort of trying to breathe through the attack. He pushed Alex away and waved him off. "I'm fine!" he declared, resting his head on his hand. Alex shook his head, but left him to retrieve the beer he'd abandoned in the fridge.
"Dad, you need to see the doctor. It's getting worse." Alex sat back in his chair with his now opened beer watching his father reclaim his breath.
"I'm fine. I don't want to talk about it anymore." Paul looked up and gave Alex the same glare he had as a child. A warning to let it drop, or there'd be hell to pay. Paul never raised a hand to Alex as he grew up, but his tongue-lashings and the hours of hard labor that followed were nothing to laugh about.
As a child, Alex idolized his father. Paul was a guy's guy, the man every dad in the neighborhood always clapped on the back in greeting and made sure to wave hello to when they saw him. He was respected, wise and rational. When other dads would bellow at their sons to do better on the ball field, Paul would yell encouragement and give tips in a soft manner between innings. Alex never feared his father's anger, but sure did everything he could to avoid his disappointment.
Paul worked his ass off at the construction company he and his brother inherited from their father. Long days and even longer nights were spent working the books, planning projects, putting in bids for new projects. He showed Alex exactly what it meant to put in an honest day's work. When Paul's brother died suddenly of a heart attack, Alex's mother, Marie, thought he would slow down too, take the hint as she said. But Paul didn't know the meaning of slow.
No matter how busy, Paul always seemed to find a way to spend time with Alex. He never once missed a baseball game. And every Sunday the three of them would pile into the second pew of the Divine Savior Church, before heading to the local pancake house for breakfast.
Now, seeing the man that he looked up to all those years glaring at him and refusing to get help for something like a cough irritated Alex. Always able to maintain control over his emotions, he was finding it more difficult not to throw the bottle of beer at his father and demand he get his ass in his car and see the doctor. If he were a woman, his woman, he'd have no trouble getting control of the situation, but this was his father. He sighed heavily and nodded. "Fine. Now. This girl. What's her name and how do I get hold of her?"
Chapter Two
Alyssa Sanders stepped onto Canal Street from Union Station and took a deep breath. The overwhelming smell of exhaust fumes filled her lungs, and she took smaller breaths until her lungs cleared and adjusted to the city air. She waved down a cab, wanting nothing more than to get to her hotel.
The train ride from St. Louis took two hours longer than expected thanks to a delayed arrival. For the better part of the ride, she had been stuck sitting next to an older man who didn't have the decency to pretend he wasn't gawking at her breasts. Even after she put her sweat jacket on and zipped it up to her chin, his gaze continued to grope her. The weekend was shaping up to be worse than the week before, and she craved a bed.
She relaxed against the back of the seat of the cab as he maneuvered through the afternoon traffic. A month ago everything had been normal, not great, but normal. She had a job, an apartment, and was feeling like things were finally on the right track for her. It didn't take much to make everything blow up around her. Her boss at the small town bar announced he was shutting down the bar. No warning, no severance package, just locking up and selling the property. She went home to wallow in self-pity to find h
er roommate packing all of her things. Apparently, her two-night stand was the real deal, and she was moving in with him, leaving Alyssa with a large rent payment that she couldn't afford on her own.
The only thing keeping her sane at the moment was the prospect of a new start in the big city. She was all too happy to buy a train ticket out of St. Louis and head up to Chicago. She'd always wanted to live in the city. As a young girl she spent several summers with her grandmother on the North side. Every weekend they took the train downtown and would visit a museum, or the park, or take a dip in the chilly water of Lake Michigan. She loved her time with her grandmother, and she found the city to be full of life and hope. Nothing like the life she lived back in Missouri with her mother.
After taking a day to wallow in her own self-pity, she decided to wipe off the grime and look for a new adventure. Something that would get her away from the waste-of-time town she lived in and put her in a new place. There was an ad for several openings for a new club in Chicago. She wasted no time cashing out her savings and getting a train ticket. A few calls were placed for apartments and before she had time to absorb what she was doing she found herself on the train headed north.
An old boyfriend lived in the area, and she had managed to get hold of him just a few days before getting on the train. As usual, he lectured her about being safe, and making solid decisions. He wouldn't let her off the phone until she gave him the run down on her plans. She would stay at a hotel for a week or two until she could track down an apartment, and while she was doing that she'd be job hunting. She had just enough savings to get her through. Only after assuring him she had enough money to embark on her adventure did he lighten up and give her a few tips. The last time she'd been in the city was as a very young girl. She didn't know where anything was or what areas were good or not. Her ex-boyfriend even helped by calling in a favor to get her an interview. It didn't surprise her that he would have a friend in Chicago, or that his friend was part owner of a new BDSM club.