Devils & Rye (Top Shelf Book 4)

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Devils & Rye (Top Shelf Book 4) Page 1

by Alta Hensley




  Devils & Rye

  Top Shelf Series - Book Four

  Alta Hensley

  Copyright © 2018 by Alta Hensley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Thank you to Jay Aheer for the amazing cover! Also a big thanks to Maggie Ryan for editing and helping my book turn to magic! I also can’t forget my amazing betas! You all know who you are, and I love you. And of course all the readers that have supported me along the way. I have the best team in the world.

  ALTA HENSLEY’S HOT, DARK & DIRTY NEWS

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  For my friends & family who provides me the safe haven so I can write all the storms.

  Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

  It had been years since I had seen her.

  Years since I last saw those eyes with pure, raw innocence.

  So much time had passed since I lusted after what I knew I should resist.

  But she was so right.

  And I was so wrong.

  To claim her as mine was breaking the rules. Boundaries should not be broken. But temptation weakens my resolve.

  With the pull of my dark desires…

  I know that I can’t hide from my sinful thoughts—and actions—forever.

  *Devils & Rye is a dark billionaire romance. If you don’t like a splash of shock, a dash of taboo, and a heavy dose of sex, then don’t take a sip of this TOP SHELF cocktail.

  Contents

  1. Alec

  2. Makayla

  3. Alec

  4. Alec

  5. Makayla

  6. Makayla

  7. Makayla

  8. Alec

  9. Alec

  10. Makayla

  11. Alec

  12. Makayla

  13. Makayla

  14. Makayla

  15. Alec

  16. Makayla

  17. Makayla

  18. Makayla

  19. Makayla

  20. Alec

  21. Makayla

  22. Alec

  23. Makayla

  Top Shelf Series

  About the Author

  Also by Alta Hensley

  Dark Fantasy Series

  Newsletter

  HAVE YOU READ CAPTIVE VOW?

  1

  Alec

  Written words have the power to punch you in the gut and knock the air right out of you if they are delivered correctly.

  And as I sat in my favorite black leather chair on the second story of Spiked Roses, I felt as if I had been beaten repeatedly until all signs of life had left my body. Holding the letter in my hand, as I sipped an aged rye, I struggled to regain my composure.

  What the fuck just happened?

  How did this happen?

  I had left that life behind, but now it was staring back at me in my old business partner, and best friend’s handwriting. Was I a fool in thinking I could run away and leave it all behind me? That I could leave Athens, Georgia, to start a new life in New Orleans owning a members- only, exclusive men’s club called Spiked Roses and start anew?

  Yes, I was a damn fool.

  I took a sip of my drink and ignored all the scantily-clad women who worked my high-end establishment. I usually paid closer attention to how their bodies moved—a perk of my ownership—but tonight I had other things on my mind. Glancing back down at the letter, I read it again, hoping the words had somehow changed and the news before me wasn’t as nightmarish to read the second time around.

  Alec,

  My dear and oldest friend. Yes, I know it has been a long time. Too long. But you were wise in getting away when you did. You warned me. Hell, you all but begged me to step away gracefully with you while I had the chance. But I couldn’t. The pull was too great.

  That blue blood runs too strong inside of me, and I will forever be haunted by the past. And I’m sure you heard the rumors that the past has finally caught up with me.

  She’s gone. But you know that, and you know what I did to try to stop it.

  Though I knew the day would come—most likely come too fucking soon—it doesn’t ease the pain in the slightest. I miss her every single day and have not been able to move on. Losing a wife is the greatest pain a man could experience, and I hope to God you never have to experience such agony.

  Was her death enough to have me step away from the dark temptation of my own demons? Should I stop and think what losing two parents would do to Makayla?

  Yes.

  I should.

  But, I have never claimed to be a wise man.

  I did my best by Makayla. I sheltered her the best I could—maybe too much. I protected her, guarded her, and damn near suffocated her. I tried to keep the shadows of my past from seeping into the twisted haven I tried to create… but clearly have failed in doing so.

  You are my last hope for her. Makayla has no one else.

  I have no one else.

  I first sent her to New Orleans to find you and to secure a job at Spiked Roses. I thought this would give her the opportunity to be on her own, finally live life as an adult, and to break free from her gilded cage. She would be free from my prison, but still have you—her Uncle Alec—close by to keep an eye on her as she discovered her new freedom.

  But like everything in my life, it isn’t that simple. Setting her free only puts her life at risk, and I know that.

  They know. They know where she is.

  Her name was on the stone.

  I beg of you, Alec. Please help.

  I don’t want to pull you back into their grasp, and I wouldn’t involve you if I had any other choice. But her life depends on it. Depends on you.

  You know I am a dead man, even as I still breathe, for my answer to them was no.

  They will never have my daughter.

  I will still try to fight. To see if there is anything I can do, but you and I both know…

  I fear there is nothing I can do to change my fate, but I sure as hell hope to change Makayla’s. But I turn to you to help me make that happen. Please keep her safe from them. Give me the time I require to cast off those dark shadows that threaten to take her away. I will not make Makayla pay for the crimes of her father and her father’s father and all the fathers before.

  So, Alec, I beg of you. If our friendship meant anything to you—which I believe it truly did before I got myself deeper into this mess—take her to our place. It’s safe there and it hasn’t been used for a decade. Makayla will recognize it and feel a sense of home. I think it will help comfort her in what could be a challenging time. I don’t know for how long, but I will send word. You know I wouldn’t ask this of you if there were any other way.

  When I sent Makayla to Spiked Roses to find you, she was excited for her new adventure. This was her chance to finally experience life as a young woman should. No doubt, when you hand her the letter attached to this one for her, she will not be happy. The idea of being locked away in her gilded cage again will devastate her, but I know she will still do as I ask. The question remains, will you?

  If anyone can keep her safe and protected, I know it is you. Step in and be the protector that I no longer can be.

  Until my next correspondence,

  ~Rhett

  Fuck.

  It was just as nightmarish as the first time I’d read the le
tter. Even worse. My friend was a dead man. I knew this. He knew this.

  Fuck.

  I had warned him. I had begged him to leave.

  Fuck.

  Finishing my drink with one long swig, I fought the overwhelming urge to puke. There was nothing I could do. Nothing. My ears rang and my vision dimmed. If I didn’t get my shit together, I was going to faint like a damn southern belle wearing a corset that was too tight.

  I had to focus.

  Makayla. Fucking Makayla needed me.

  Me. What the hell was Rhett thinking? I was as far from the knight in shining armor as one could get. Saving the pretty damsel in distress wasn’t my thing.

  “You all right, dude?” Harley Crow—a friend and current business partner—asked as he sat down next to me with a glass of vodka in his hand. “Your ass looks like it has seen a ghost.”

  Glancing at the man, but lost in all the swirling thoughts going on in my mind, I mumbled, “Yeah, a fucking ghost.”

  Harley glanced at the letter in my shaking hand. “Bad news?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  I was half tempted to say yes. Having the notorious Harley Crow get involved could possibly fix it all, but I also knew that even a ruthless assassin such as Harley couldn’t kill them all. Demons have a way of multiplying. And I couldn’t get the man involved, even if he could wipe them all out. Asking anyone to step into that dark and twisted world of my past was a different kind of murder.

  “I wish. Just my past coming back to haunt me.”

  “This have anything to do with your niece we just hired?”

  I shook my head side to side slowly and closed my eyes as if I could shut away the nightmare. “She’s not my niece. I told you all that at the meeting.”

  “Whatever, dude. She calls you Uncle Alec. So she clearly thinks she’s your niece.”

  “Yeah, it’s complicated.”

  Complicated wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the situation we were now in.

  “Where is she, by the way?” I asked as I opened my eyes to find Harley scrutinizing me with his dark and narrowed eyes.

  Harley shrugged. “Haven’t seen her. My guess is with Tennessee, training.” Harley took a slow drink, never breaking his stare. “You sure you are all right?”

  I stood up with a heavy sigh. “I have some things I’m going to need to handle. I need to go away for a while. Do you mind letting the other guys know? I’ll keep you all posted once I have a better feel of what I need to do and how long I need to be away.”

  “Yeah, no problem. But why don’t you just tell them yourselves at the member’s meeting in fifteen minutes?” Harley said.

  Shit. The meeting. I had forgotten all about it.

  “You look like hell,” Harley said. “If there’s anyone who can help you deal with your shit, it’s the men who will be at the meeting. There isn’t anything we wouldn’t do to help each other. You know that.”

  “Yeah, well you all have enough shit to deal with on your own. Did Victor ever find the fuckers who attacked his dolls?”

  Harley scowled. “No. The problem with that is the bounty was so fucking high on those dolls that it really could have been any shithead wanting to profit off the black market. Shutting down the dolls was really the best thing he could have done.” He took another sip of his drink. “But right now isn’t about Victor. It’s about you. What’s up?”

  “I just have some fucked up demons lurking that I need to battle.” I stood, determined to face this head on. “I doubt I’ll be at the meeting. Just tell them that I had some family affairs to deal with and had to get out of town for a little bit. I’ll be in touch when I can.”

  Without saying another word, I left Harley sitting with his vodka as I went to search for Makayla. No one could help me battle these demons, but sadly these same demons had Makayla by the throat and were squeezing the life out of her. She just didn’t know it yet.

  2

  Makayla

  All right, sugar pop. We are going to start you off working the front door. At least until you turn twenty-one. No jail bait working the floor under my watch. I don’t care who you are related to. Rules are rules, and you can’t waitress until you’re old enough to drink booze. I’m not going to risk Spiked Roses being shut down because of you,” Tennessee Charles said as he handed me a red lace dress. “You’ll wear red as your uniform. I usually put the blondes with pale skin in black, but I’m going to have to make an exception with you. I don’t think your uncle would be too thrilled with me dressing you in a black leather leotard and chained collar. We’ll save the kinky side of the club for another day.”

  I was prepared to do anything Tennessee wanted me to do. This was my first job ever, and I knew I had a lot to prove. I also knew the only reason I got hired was because of my Uncle Alec vouching for me. Especially since I was only twenty years old and had absolutely no experience. But I was determined to show Tennessee and all the managing members that I was an asset to Spiked Roses regardless of my age and inexperience in just about everything.

  I took the folded dress from Tennessee’s outstretched arms. “Thank you. I understand why I can’t work the floor, and I don’t mind at all. I’m just happy to have a job.”

  Tennessee tilted his head and crossed his arms against his chest as he studied me. “It’s none of my business, but I’m a catty bitch who loves to gossip. So dish it, girlfriend. What’s your story? I was told that your daddy used to be Alec’s business partner. Which means you come from money. A shitload of money. So why are you working here? Did Daddy cut off the sugar?”

  “No,” I answered softly. “I could still have the sugar if I want. But it was time for me to get out from under his thumb and start my own life, you know?”

  God, if Tennessee only knew just how much I truly needed to get away from my father’s suffocating control. Or just how badly I needed to breathe freely for the first time.

  “And your daddy was okay with you working at Spiked Roses? Does he even know what this club is and what goes on here? The Tastings?” Tennessee shook his head and walked over to a shelf of black high heels. “I can’t imagine any daddy being okay with his baby girl signing a contract to engage in sexual acts with anyone.” Tennessee held up two pairs of shoes and said, “It looks like you are a size seven or eight. Which one?”

  “Eight,” I answered. “And no, my father forbid The Tasting Room. That was one of his rules, and one of the rules I’m sure Uncle Alec will make sure I follow.” When Tennessee walked over and handed me the shoes, I added, “But even though I can’t do The Tastings, I promise you I won’t expect any special treatment. I plan to work harder than everyone else. And if you need me to cover shifts during The Tastings or anything, I will be completely free to do whatever you ask.”

  “You don’t have to do a Tasting to work here. So don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours. That’s just where all the money is. The girls who work The Tastings make bank. Major bank. Hell, I would work them if I could.”

  I hated the fact that my father placed limitations on me working here, but I was so desperate to have his blessing to move out and move to New Orleans, that I would have promised my soul to the Devil to make that happen. I didn’t want to stand out from the other women who worked the club, but I also knew that word most likely would spread fast that one of the managing members was my Uncle Alec. And as for The Tastings, I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to act in those. I had the same sexual experience as the Virgin Mary. Me going into a room that revolved around taboo, fetishes, and kinks would have been comical. I would have been laughed right out of there. I couldn’t fake my way through that. Even I knew I had limitations.

  I looked toward the bathroom door, and then I looked at the dress in my hands. Tennessee must have read my thoughts.

  “Go on in there and change. But trust me, missy, there ain’t nothing of yours I haven’t seen, nor do I want any part of. Titties
and coochies just aren’t my thing.” He motioned for me to head over to the bathroom across the room. “Hurry up. I need to get your training started. I don’t have all night.”

  Walking over to the bathroom as quickly as I could, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I couldn’t tell if Tennessee liked me or not. Living in my small little bubble in my father’s mansion made it hard for me to read people. I didn’t have social skills. I knew this. And it sucked that my anxiety was at an all-time high because I had no idea if I was starting off on the wrong or right foot with my direct supervisor.

  Shutting the door behind me, I removed my clothing and got dressed in my new uniform as fast as I could. The dress—if you could call it that since it was mostly see-through red lace—was harder to put on than I’d expected. The back had a tiny zipper that got snagged on the fabric. No matter how much I tugged, I couldn’t pull it up all the way. Remembering Tennessee’s words about me not having anything he hadn’t seen, I decided that it was better to walk out to the staff room and have him assist me with the zipper rather than keeping him waiting while I fumbled around unsuccessfully.

  “Tennessee?” I called as I walked out barefoot in a dress that barely covered my ass. “I can’t get this zipper up. Do you mind helping me?”

  “Yeah that happens sometimes,” he said as he met me halfway. “Lower the top half so I have some slack to work with,” he directed as he walked up behind me.

 

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