Breaking Meredith: A Dark Romance (Disciples Book 4)

by Izzy Sweet

  Her lips part but no words come, only bubbles of blood.

  I nod my head and whisper, “Goodbye, Madeline.”

  Stabbing the blade down into her chest, I push it deep down between the bones and pierce her heart.

  Moving it upwards, I ensure I’ve severed any chance she will have to deal with this anymore.

  She gives one quiet death rattle over the flames coming from the building. Then the pain-filled eye fades as the life flees from her body.

  Standing up from the body, I can’t help but shudder as I look down at my bloody hands. My suit, tie, and shirt are ruined.

  Nothing about this day has gone according to plan, and it’s driving me mad with anger.

  Walking over to the truck, I see Meredith still standing beside it with Peter trying to get her to listen to him.

  “Look, ma’am, we need you to get in the truck.”

  Meredith is not having it though. She just continues to stare at me and the hand I have holding the stiletto.

  “What… What did you... do?” she stutters out at me.

  “A kindness. Now if you would be so agreeable, please get the fuck in the truck,” I growl at her.

  Turning to the cab of the truck, she mutters quietly, “You’re a monster, you all are.”

  Ignoring her, I say, “Peter, get me to my SUV and quick. We need to get out of here.”

  Once we’re all in the truck, it’s a quick ride around the block to reach my vehicle. In the distance, sirens wail in the background. Thankfully we don’t spot anyone being too nosey as we stop in front of my Escalade.

  I would try to clean myself up from the blood, but we just don’t have the time.

  Getting out and heading to my vehicle, I notice Meredith is still sitting in the back of the truck.

  Walking to her door, I yank it open and wrap a hand around her wrist. She fights me at first, but when I pull her arm hard enough she slides right out of the truck.

  “We don’t have time for this shit, Meredith!” I growl as I tug her over to my vehicle.

  Turning to Peter as he looks out his window, I say, “Tell Lucifer what happened, and that I am in the process of securing his sister. I’ll contact him as soon as possible.”

  “Got it,” he says out the window before easing out of the parking lot.

  Meredith must be getting her dander up again because she begins to struggle against me. Blood from me is getting all over her top and arms. Dirty disgusting stripper blood.

  Motherfucker.

  “Stop fucking fighting!” I shout as I pull her to the passenger door.

  Opening it up, I all but toss her inside.

  Pulling her belt over her lap, I snap her in before shutting her door. I run around to my side of the Escalade and get in quickly.

  Starting it up, I stomp on the gas and peel out of the parking lot.

  5

  Simon

  The door slamming behind me helps with the ache I feel in my loins. The rage of pain radiating through my shoulder does nothing to dissuade the hormonal reaction I feel. If anything, the fight I feel from her makes the pain so much more… sexual.

  Sexual pain, that’s a novelty if I’ve ever heard one.

  Putting my hand on my shoulder, I pull it away only to find fresh blood bleeding up through my shirt.

  That little…

  I suppose first blood goes to her then.

  Not that I will try to one up her. No hair will be harmed on her damn head. She might very well end up with a bright red bottom though. If she wants to behave like a child, then I’ll treat her like the obstinate one she is.

  Walking into the bathroom, I flip the light switch on to survey the damage of my clothes and body. Thankfully, neither Meredith or I were injured in the explosion.

  Cherry was a loss though, as were all the workers and clientele.

  I think this should be put down as a gas main explosion, not an attack. If word were to get out it was anything but an accident it would look very bad on us as a whole. We’ve stayed out of the national spotlight, and now with the governor we have in place, it’s even easier to stay in the shadows.

  But if it came out that we had another gang war on our hands...

  Damnation. Everything we’ve been building up and putting in place could be put under the microscope. The current political climate does not bode well for criminal enterprises.

  Walking into the kitchen, I grab a garbage bag. Then I pull my cellphone out as I head back into the bathroom.

  I scroll through my contacts list and I have to scroll pretty far down before I find who I’m looking for.

  Putting the phone down on the counter, I press call and turn on the speakerphone.

  It’s five long rings before I hear a voice. “Fire Chief Martin.”

  “Chief, this is Simon Whitmore,” I say as I start untying my bloody tie.

  There’s a long pause and I can’t tell if he is trying to willfully forget my name or if he’s sensing the oncoming headache I’m going to cause.

  “Simon, how can I help you?” he asks quietly.

  “I was calling to find out more about the gas main explosion that occurred at Lucky Tails tonight.”

  “Gas main explosion…” he starts off and I can tell he’s not happy to hear the news.

  “Yes, it’s very tragic that we had such an awful accident at the club.”

  “There’s no way that it could—”

  “Chief Dennis Alan Martin. You have three daughters. One’s in Yale, yes? And the other two are still in private schooling within the city, I believe… Which one do you love the most?” I ask as I toss the bloody tie into the garbage.

  “How dare you! You son of a bitch!” he says with a deep growl.

  “Quite true. Now answer me, which one do you love the most? Is it the Ivy League child? What about the soccer star? Which will bring you the most pride? How about the youngest daughter? Nothing notable about her yet.”

  “The gas main explosion was an unfortunate accident, due to unforeseen circumstances,” he says quickly.

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” I press.

  “Look, I’ll say anything you want, Simon,” he says in a rush and I can hear the terror in his voice.

  “Thank you for your concern and diligent inspection during these upcoming days. I’ll make sure to send a fruit basket over to your home,” I say before pressing the disconnect button.

  Another scroll through the contacts and then I push on yet another person’s name.

  Two rings this time. “Detective Sommers.”

  “Detective, it’s Simon.”

  “Simon, good to hear from you. Though I have a feeling this isn’t a call to see how I’m doing,” he says with a sigh.

  I really do wish people would be happy to hear my voice…

  No, actually I don’t.

  “Indeed. I need you to find out what you can about the gas main explosion tonight at Lucky Tails. Names and addresses of all the visitors, any information that could help us identify the part of the gas main that exploded...”

  “Got it. I’ll try to get you everything as it comes in. Any issues and I’ll contact you. Anything else?” he asks.

  “Yes, make sure you work very closely with Chief Dennis Martin on this. If there are any issues, no matter how small, please inform me,” I say.

  “Will do. Have a goodnight, Simon.”

  “You as well,” I say and push the disconnect button.

  Removing my shirt completely, I wait to look at where she bit me.

  I don’t dread looking at what I know to be a vicious bite mark. No, I wait because I fear the exhilaration I’m sure it will give.

  Why would I feel such an emotional high? I have no clue. I’m in new territory with all these emotional and hormonal threads. Long before I was an adult, I, like many others, reveled in the hormones and lack of self-control only a youth could possess.

  Now I must keep a rigid control of myself. I’m not some unthinking nean
derthal.

  Wiping mine and Cherry’s blood off on the what was once a crisp, white shirt, I notice how the blood has stained my hands.

  My life of bloody hands has been over for a long time. I wear gloves if I need to cause physical damage to someone. It allows me to remain remote and professional about the matter.

  Blood makes things personal when it’s spilled on your skin.

  Putting the destroyed dress shirt into the garbage bag, I remove my wasted pants, socks, and shoes. All go into the bag. No evidence of Cherry’s blood on me will be left. I’ll have to take care of Meredith’s clothes, and the bedding she’s laying on, but that can wait for now.

  The stiletto goes in the bag as well. I’ll need to grab another one of those from my home office.

  Still avoiding the mirror, I push the first contact on my list and wait for him to pick up.

  “Simon… Do tell me why I heard from Peter and not you about Lucky Tails and Meredith.”

  He’s angered. Though I’m not sure which has him madder, that his club has been destroyed or that Meredith was in danger.

  “Her security took precedence in the matter. Though I do not believe either her or I were the target of the bomb.”

  “Peter was of the same mind,” he says, and I can hear Lily in the background asking what’s going on.

  I’m surprised I haven’t paid more attention to what time it is and glance at the clock. It’s almost midnight. I doubt he went back to bed after Peter called, so she’s probably come to see why he left the bed.

  Why he deals with such annoyances, I have no clue.

  “What did Peter say?” I ask.

  Knowing I didn’t get more information before Meredith and I raced from the bombing irritates me to no end.

  Meredith is becoming too much of a burden.

  “That the location of the bomb was back by the DJ station. It had no timer, only a flashing light. He believes it was a military grade explosive, probably expert in set up.”

  “That fits what little I saw of the scene before we left. It was most likely remote-detonated,” I say quietly as I begin to run the water of my sink.

  Blood slowly comes free of my hands and swirls down the drain as I continue my thought process. “If I was to conjecture at this exact moment, we weren’t the target of tonight’s attack. It was a message meant to be sent to us. Now as to who… I don’t have enough information to even guess. It could be anyone. Russians, Yakuza, fringe Irish. I doubt the Saudis have even had the opportunity to do something like this yet. It could have been a rush job, but it doesn’t feel like it to me.”

  “Peter gave me the estimate of fifty-five to seventy people dead. Workers and clientele. This will be national news on late night TV, and at the very least in the morning news and papers.”

  “Agreed. I’ve got both Sommers and Martin on the same page. Gas main explosion, catastrophic failure due to anything that can help get the spotlight away from the truth. Blaming it on a gang war is the last thing we need right now.”

  “Good. Will they both play their parts?”

  “Sommers will, of course. Martin will need to be closely watched. I plan to have a reminder sent to him tomorrow, and another will visit his daughter at Yale,” I say.

  The blood under my fingernails is the hardest part to get clean, and it’s through sheer willpower alone that I don’t rip them off just so I can get the stripper’s blood off of me.

  A good dose of antibiotics will be in my future.

  “Tell me about Cherry,” Lucifer says quietly, and I can feel his anger at the loss.

  He, of course, had no emotional ties to the woman beyond favoring her brains and intellect for the business. At least that I can see.

  “She was severely injured from the blast. She was so injured she would never have a life worth living again. It may have been possible to save her, but I decided to show her a kindness.”

  “Understood.”

  Taking a deep breath, I look up from my clean hands and stare at my body.

  “Will you be avoiding me any further on the Meredith topic, Simon?”

  “You know your sister’s ways as well as I do.”

  “I do,” he says with a chuckle. “So she got underneath the most collected man I know’s skin?”

  There, on my shoulder, is a bloody bite mark. She tore through the shirt and skin when she bit me. Plain and simple, she became the hellcat princess I’ve thought her to be all along.

  She’s marked me just as if she were to brand or tattoo me as hers.

  She really was mad to have been able to cause that kind of wound.

  “She was trapped in the townhouse for too long. She was becoming stir crazy. After this latest escape attempt out the bathroom window… I decided to give her some fresh air.”

  “So you took her to Lucky Tails?” His tone is neutral, but I can tell there is a smirk in there.

  “She actually chose it. I offered her the option of any one of your protected properties. Compound, which I wouldn’t have done. Bar or strip club. I don’t think she really expected me to take her to the club, but I figured I could kill two birds with one stone. Check on Lucky Tails and then look at a couple of clubs you wanted buy. She didn’t have to know you didn’t own the other ones.”

  Finally, he lets out a chuckle. “She will pick out the most uncomfortable thing every time, Simon. She was born to push the buttons of all who surround her.”

  “I’m quite aware of that,” I say and pick up the phone as I head out of the bathroom and make my way to my office.

  I’m naked, but the blood has stopped enough on my shoulder that I won’t drip. Picking up my black bag, I walk back to the bathroom.

  “Where is she now?” he asks.

  Fuck. I knew that this question was coming. I knew it from the moment we left the strip club in our hurry for safety. I knew this question would come and the answer I have could be very bad for both her and I.

  “Here at my home. I’ll be able to keep her… secure here. No more threats of ripping her wrist open with her teeth.”

  “Simon,” he says simply. “What are you doing right now?”

  Unzipping my black bag, I pull out the small suture kit I keep inside of it. This is my personal medical supply bag. It has everything I need to take care of myself. Doctors can be useful, but I find I trust myself more than them.

  “Preparing to give myself eight to ten stitches on my shoulder.”

  “Should I send Andrew over? He can do that for you.” He says it more as of a statement than a question.

  “No. I’d rather grow gangrenous than have that caveman try to give me stitches.”

  Pulling out a fresh packaged syringe and then a small bottle of numbing agent, I set them on the counter.

  “Simon, why is my sister at your house?”

  “Because she infuriates me so much she can’t be trusted by herself again.”

  The laughter that comes out of the phone is shocking, just as shocking as it is for me to admit to anyone how much she gets under my skin.

  “Truly, Simon?”

  “Yes,” I say tersely.

  “Simon, should I trust you with her? Or should I trust her with you?” There’s a small amount of humor in his voice, but it could easily be danger too.

  “Lucifer, have I ever given you a reason to doubt my decisions?” I ask with a huff.

  Numbing the surrounding area of the wound, I pull the suture kit open and thread the needle quickly.

  Dumping two different disinfectants into the wound, I savor the burn as it cleanses the bite mark.

  I look at my body in the mirror. She isn’t the first person to give me scars that will always be there as a reminder. I have many of them. Many of them I can’t easily see from my father. My back is a mess of his handiwork.

  Lots of thin white lines; coat hangers were his favorite way to teach a lesson.

  Then there’s the one on my thigh from a knife, and the one on my right hip from a stray bullet.


  Lucifer has paused for so long that one might think he hung up, but I know better. He’s running everything he knows of me in his head. He’s trying to see into the future, to see all the possible outcomes of what I’ve said.

  “Be careful, Simon. Her loyalties… She may never be trustworthy. She’s not the woman she pretends to be when she has to play nice.”

  “Oh, I know that, Lucifer. She’s the reason I’m sewing my shoulder up. She bit me.”

  “I…” Lucifer starts then stops.

  I do believe he’s speechless.

  “She’s in perfectly good hands then,” he finally finishes. “Come to the compound tomorrow, and if you can keep her secure enough, don’t bring her.”

  “I’ll be in late in the morning. I need to stop by the office. I’m going to see if I can watch the feeds for the bomber. I should be able to see him on the cameras.”

  “Good, I want this prick dead. Whoever ordered this hurt me personally. I want to return the favor.”

  “Just a thought, Lucifer, but I would be surprised if it was the Russians directly.”

  “Same here. Something seems off with that thought. We need to start pulling our men home, Simon. We’re spread too thin. Put a call out to Governor Norton and tell him we want paperwork done for a full pardon.”

  “No,” I say with an angry hiss that has nothing to do with the needle I’m pushing through my skin to finish up the third stitch.

  “Simon, that was not a question,” Lucifer says with a deep sigh.

  “We do not need to bring him back. Your hellhound needs to stay in his cage.”

  “Get over your issues with him. Get the process started. Have Thad brought back into the city. Call Jude and Matthias as well. Get them to put out feelers for recruitment.”

  “Why, Matthew? The others I fully agree with. But why?” I ask, and the fifth stitch goes into a wider part of the wound.

  Pulling it shut, I tie off the knot.

  “Because I feel something of a storm coming. The priest called me personally tonight, Simon. He called me. Something is going on again. I’m sending you out to see him. Tomorrow night if possible. Whatever the priest needs to say, we want to listen to it.”