Obsessed: A Billionaire Love Triangle

by Mia Ford

  Once inside our apartment, I gently placed her in bed and tucked her in, pulling her blankets up to her chin. To think, her mother was missing out on all of that – all of those special little moments that only came around once and would never come around again.

  Hell, at one time – not all that long ago, realy – I might have missed everything just like Amy was. Had things not changed for me. Had I not grown up and made sure things changed. It was because my little girl was worth it. She was worth changing for. She was worth being a better person for.

  Harley slept peacefully, wrapped up tight in her Harley Quinn bedding – picked out because she'd been tickled that the comic book character bore her name, of course. I kept the bedroom door partway open as I walked own the hall, into the kitchen, and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Popping it open, I was about to turn on the television when I noticed I had several missed calls and some text messages. Groaning because I recognized the number of a few of the missed calls, I checked them out.

  Phone call wise, it was like I figured it was – mostly Amy's mom. And the voicemails were all from her. I couldn't bring myself to call her back though, not after her daughter had abandoned Harley and me for her drugs. It wasn't like I had anything in common with her folks and honestly, I really didn't have anything to say to them. Eventually, I supposed I'd need to deal with them – for Harley's sake.

  Sighing, I punched the button listened to the most recent voicemail.

  “Elias, this is Debbie, Amy's mother. Again,” even her recorded voice carried the same condescending tone I hated about her so much. “I've been trying to reach you to discuss Amy, as well to talk about visitation with my granddaughter. Please call me back when you get this.”

  Visitation? Like hell. As much as I'd love for Harley to get to know her grandparents – the only grandparents she had left – there was no way in hell I was going to allow them visitation. I despised Amy's parents. They were controlling. Manipulative. And they were the biggest reason Amy was as fucked up as she was. There was no way in hell they were going to get anywhere near my daughter. Not if I could help it.

  I deleted the messages. Next, I checked my texts and rolled my eyes at a lot of the usual bullshit. The first one was from a guy named Terry – a guy I used to deal to back in the day when I was doing that sort of shit.

  Hey man, I know you're not into that life anymore, but I really needed to check and see if you have anything to sell me tonight?

  Delete.

  “No longer in that business, dude,” I muttered. “I've told you that a million times already.”

  The next message came from a number I didn't recognize. And all it said was, Elias, we need to talk.

  I looked at it for a few moments, curious – but also wary. There was only one way to find out who it was and what they wanted though, so I texted the mystery number back. Who is this?

  I didn't expect a response, since it was getting late in the evening. But my phone buzzed a few seconds later with a response.

  We need to talk. Soon.

  I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. It was probably just another drug addict expecting me to help him score his fix.

  “Sorry, bro,” I said. “Not my deal anymore.”

  I went to delete the message, but another one popped up.

  I'm with the Black Torment MC. We need to talk.

  I felt a stab of adrenaline shoot through me like a lightning strike. Shit man, really? I was done with that life too – all of it went hand-in-hand. I just wanted it to go away. Forever. I wanted to make sure my daughter didn't get caught in the middle of it all. I didn't want that world even touching her world. I wanted her to remain completely ignorant of it all.

  And just in case Amy's parents decided to come after my daughter, I didn't need my criminal record being a reason to lose custody. It wasn't lengthy and it wasn't especially terrible, but I'd accrued a few petty charges over the years. Things I knew they could use against me. Would use against me given half a chance. Knowing that was one reason I'd stepped away from the MC, and they'd let me. For the most part.

  I typed out a quick reply. I'm done with the MC. Have been for years, so lose this number.

  I expected another text, but instead, my phone rang. Same number as before. I rolled my eyes and contemplated not answering, but I needed to get it through this guy's head that I was done and that he needed to leave me the hell alone, so I answered.

  “What part of I'm done was in any way unclear,” I snapped. “Does Mav know you're calling me?”

  “Maverick's actually the one who told me to call, asshole,” the voice said on the other end of the line.

  The voice was familiar enough, but I couldn't quite place it. Not at first.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “It's Jay,” he said. “And frankly, I'm a little hurt that you don't you remember me, Eli. Has it really been that long?”

  “Nah, I just didn't realize you'd moved up the ladder high enough that you were washing Mav's balls now, that's all, princess,” I said. “What's this about? I'm done. I was done when I left five years ago. Maverick signed off on it and you know it because you were there. I'm out of the life entirely.”

  “You're never out entirely, shithead,” Jay said, cackling as he spoke. “Mav needs a favor. Nothing major, but you owe us, kid. You owe us a lot.”

  I didn't owe them shit, but my voice caught in my throat and I had to work hard to keep the dark anger bubbling up inside of me from flowing over. I knew that the MC was full of bad guys who could ruin my life in no time flat. They could do the unthinkable. And most of them wouldn't hesitate to do so.

  I stared down at the hallway, to the door at the end. Harley's door. They could take everything away from me if I didn't do what they wanted. But I also knew that working for them could cause me to lose everything, anyway.

  It was a lose-lose situation no matter which way I turned, and I wasn't sure how to handle it.

  “I'm done, Jay. Done. I can't be doing anything for the MC anymore,” I said. “I have my reasons.”

  “We know your reasons, dude,” he said. “We know that Debbie and Patrick Archer are trying to get custody of your kid?”

  “How did you – ”

  “We know a lot. More than you realize,” he said. “And we can help you with that. Or we can make things worse for you. Your choice.”

  Chapter Three

  I waited for Maverick at the place they'd told me to be at. It was hard to believe now, but once upon a time, we'd been buddies. Good friends, actually. But our lives had taken radically different turns, and mine no longer included running drugs and guns with the MC. I got out before I got caught – or killed. For the most part, my record was clean of anything major, and I intended to keep it that way.

  We were meeting at an old warehouse that I was familiar with – it was one that we'd used to house the heroin and cocaine we cut and sold. If the cops rolled up on me, just being there could get me in trouble. But, I had no choice – that was where they'd told me to meet them. Maverick himself was coming, and I prayed I could talk some sense into the guy. Make him see I couldn't be part of his shit anymore.

  After about fifteen minutes of waiting, Maverick rolled into the parking lot, along with Jay and another guy I didn't know. Obviously, somebody who'd joined up after my time. The three of them were tall, big men. They had a hard edge and an air of violence around them. They were the type of men you didn't want to run into in a dark alley, that was for sure.

  I was a little surprised to see that Maverick was getting a little grayer in his otherwise dark hair than I remembered him being. His facial hair had gone almost completely gray. Damn. It was amazing what five years could do. Or maybe it was life in the MC that happened to age people faster than normal.

  Jay was older than I remembered him being as well – he had a face I hardly recognized. So much had changed in the MC since I'd left, membership and leadership changes and whatnot. Mav was still the president, of
course, but it looked like Jay was the new VP, his right hand, and that was bad news for me. We'd never gotten along very well because Jay was a dick. A straight up dick, often for no reason at all other than he could get away with being a dick.

  The other guy, the one I didn't know, was shorter than Jay and Mav. He looked to be quite a bityounger too. Probably a newer recruit, someone brought along to learn the ropes maybe. Maybe he was there as a backup in case things got ugly. It wasn't going to get ugly though – I wanted to return to my daughter alive, not in a casket.

  “Eli, long time, no see, bud,” Mav said, pulling me into a one-armed hug. “You remember Jay, right? Well this is his little brother, Dean. He joined us last year.”

  “I'd like to say it's nice to meet you, but given the circumstances – ”

  “Nah, man, it ain't like that,” Mav said to me, patting me on the back. “It's all good between us. I promise you.”

  I looked over at Jay, remembering the threats and intimidation he laid on pretty thick when he'd called earlier.

  “Yeah, that's not how it sounded when I was invited to this little party in the first place,” I said.

  Mav scowled at Jay and shook his head. “Jay can be a bit heavy handed, but trust me, Eli, as long as you work with us, it's all good.”

  “As long as I work with you?” I said. “I left the club, Mav. You signed off on it. Why are you dragging me back into things now, after all this time?”

  “Because we need you, man,” Mav said. “We need you real bad. And maybe you don't recall, but I was clear that a condition of letting you out was that we could call on you, as needed, from time to time to help us out with some shit.”

  I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “What kind of shit do you need help with?”

  “You still with that broad, Amy?”

  I scoffed. “Not really,” I said. “She left us for her dope. And last I heard, she's locked up in some treatment facility. Parents had her committed or some shit like that. Haven't talked to her in over a year.”

  “Well, that makes things a bit more difficult than I would have liked,” he said. “But we can work it out.”

  “Work what out?” I asked, narrowing my gaze. “And what's Amy got to do with any of this?”

  “She used to hang out with some guy named Carl Gillespie,” Mav said. “Does that name ring a bell with you?”

  “Can't say that it does,” I said.

  That was a partial lie – I'd heard of Carl. Just never from Amy. Not directly, anyway. I saw his name and number on the missed calls screen of her phone a lot, but I'd always just assumed it was her dealer.

  “I'm not in that life, remember?” I said. “I stayed the fuck away from Amy's friends.”

  “Well Gillespie seems to know you.”

  That statement piqued my interest. “What do you mean?”

  “He's mentioned you a few times, in passing, when we talked business,” Mav said casually. “Asked how we knew you and shit. Not that it matters, but – ”

  “It does matter. I don't want dirtbags like him knowing my name.”

  “We can fix that for you,” Mav said. “Carl used to work with us. Key word – used to.”

  “Bad business deal?” I asked. “Everything to go south because of him?”

  “Something like that,” Mav said. “He's now apparently working for the Kings. And he's apparently passing on some of our personal information in his new job.”

  I knew where this was going already and I felt the knot in my stomach tighten. “So let me guess, you need this Carl guy gone?”

  “You got it, bud,” Mav said. “But of course, he's not going to trust any of us enough to let us get close to him. Let's just say, we left things with ol' Carl on not-so-good terms. But we were thinking if your gal Amy – ”

  “Amy can't do shit, I'm sorry,” I said. “She's locked away and as far as I know, isn't getting out anytime soon.”

  “Do you still have access to her old cellphone?” Mav asked. “Or at least know the number? If you have that, we can spoof it – ”

  I did have her old phone, but it no longer had service. I'd disconnected that line entirely once she got back into drugs and stopped working. I could easily reactivate it though, if needed.

  “So you want me to call and pretend to be Amy?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “How's that going to work? It's not like we sound alike or anything.”

  “Call? Mav said, laughing as he looked at the others. “Who said anything about calling anyone? That's just asking for shit to go sideways. Nah, man, all we need you to do is text him – just like Amy did. Shoot him a text and set up a meeting somewhere, that's it. That's all you have to do. We'll take care of the rest.”

  “Take care of the rest?” I scoffed. “As in kill him?”

  Mav shrugged, scratching his beard as he stared me in the eyes. “We'll take care of it,” he said. “That's all you need to worry about, brother.”

  I said nothing, but Mav could probably see the look on my face – and understand my hesitation – because he continued.

  “Come on, man,” he said. “This is the drug dealer who got Amy hooked on the stuff in the first place. Don't you want a little payback on him anyway?”

  Truth be told, I'd love to get some payback on the man who'd ruined my family. But indulging in that little fantasy, I risked everything I'd fought for. Hell, I'd be risking my own freedom.

  “I can't get involved with this shit, man. I can't risk getting caught,” I said. “I have a daughter, and I'm the only person she's got. If this shit goes sideways and I get implicated in this, it's going to be bad all the way around.”

  “I know, I know,” Mav said. “But trust us, Elias. We'll take care of you. Have we ever done you wrong?”

  That was a loaded question. I could think of many times the welfare of the club took precedence over the welfare of its members. I remember several times when I'd been left behind to have the shit beat out of me by a rival club or some other pissed off person.

  I remember times when I'd almost been arrested for crimes I barely played a part in. That was why I got out in the first place. But to say that to these men was a dangerous proposition. Mav wasn't the kind of guy who liked hearing the word “no.”

  “You also know it's not just about me, Mav,” I said. “I got to jail, Harley gets put in the system. Or worse, she goes to live with Amy's folks. And you know what they did to Amy – I can't let that happen.”

  “It won't go down that way, man,” Mav said. “Trust me, brother. We'll take care of anything. All we need from you is to send that text.”

  Sounded easy enough alright. One text and I was done. But if I knew anything about Mav and the MC, things were never that easy. There was always some angle to be played. Some hidden agenda. Or some hook in the bait that couldn't be seen until it was too late.

  And I knew he wasn't telling me everything. Knew it right down to my bones. Mostly, because he never did. But at the same time, I knew that if I refused them, they could make my life a living hell. Harley's life a living hell. They would keep twisting that knife they had in me until they got what they wanted. That was just the way they operated.

  “So you in, man?” he asked me.

  I sighed and shook my head. “It doesn't sound like I have much of a choice.”

  Chapter Four

  PAIGE

  “Good morning, Ms. Cleary!”

  Working bus duty on a Monday morning meant getting into work thirty minutes earlier than usual – which sucked, but was part of the job. The children always made it worthwhile though. I loved seeing them coming back to school all bright eyed and bushy tailed. I loved their energy and excitement. No matter how bad I was dragging on any given morning, their energy was infectious and never failed to make me smile.

  The kids were one reason – probably the biggest reason – I'd chosen elementary school over high school. These kids had yet to figure out that Mondays sucked, they were hopelessly optmisitic, and their cheerf
ulness often rubbed off on me.

  “Good morning, Kylie!” I said, smiling wide.

  Working at a small school also meant I knew most all the kids by name. And a lot of the parents who tended to be more involved with their child's education also knew me. I did like that the parents were involved with their children's education, but honestly, I preferred the kids to their parents – they just made my day.

  Kylie's mom waved at me as she dropped her daughter off, speeding away in a shiny red BMW – probably on her way to Yogilates or Barre or some other trendy fitness class. I imagined that most of the parents of these kids lived pretty privileged lives – the perks of having enough money to afford to send your chidl to a small, private school.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harley and her dad arriving. Elias seemed so out of place in a school like that, pulling up in an older model Mustang when everybody else was driving Mercedes and Beemers, or some other expensive car.

  As soon as they approached the door, I waved and called out to Harley.

  “Good morning, Harley!” I said, walking over to them. “And good morning to you too, Elias. Do you mind if we chat after you drop Harley off?”

  “Sure,” he said, looking slightly annoyed, and gave me a curt nod. “In your classroom?”

  “Yes, I have first period off,” I said.

  I felt bad how we left things on Friday and wanted to make sure he knew I didn't mean to offend him, if I had. I wanted to assure him that I had Harley's best interests at heart, but never meant to overstep my bounds.

  “Alright. See you in a few,” he said. “Come on, Harley.”

  I watched as he took her hand and they walked into the building together. For a younger father, Elias was doing more than most single fathers I knew. I'd heard other parents talking about him before, and while he assumed everyone was staring because had didn't fit in, I knew many mothers at the school were staring because they thought he was hot.