by Dani René
Perhaps I need to find a woman who can put up with my crazy ass, as well as the rest of my brothers. And that’s not going to be an easy feat by any means. They’re a lot to handle. Even Scarlett was afraid of them to a certain extent. And I don’t blame her. When I saw one of my brothers trying his luck with her, I knew he had to go. I may do a lot of shit, but forcing a woman is against my very fucking soul. Needless to say, the bastard has been buried where nobody can find his body.
She doesn’t know that, and she doesn’t need to know. My phone beeps with an incoming message. A couple of guys who have been keeping tabs on Horatio and Marinda it seems. My eyes scan the message about Scarlett’s father and the breath is knocked from my lungs.
Fuck.
Horatio Bardot committed suicide last night in a hotel room. Police are investigating the scene and will confirm if this was a murder and if there are any suspects.
I don’t reply. They don’t need to. As long as they’ve seen I read the message. Setting the phone down, I wonder if I should tell Lycan now, or do I leave it until it hits the news. He’ll know that I knew beforehand. And he’ll most definitely want to tell Scarlett before she learns from someone else.
I hit forward and type out a caption, letting him know. All updates come directly to me, and I vet them before sending them on. Once I hit send, I lock my phone, grab my keys and wallet. Time to get to the airstrip before they leave without me.
Making my way through the house, I notice a few of the brothers in the bar, a couple in the lounge, and when I step outside, I find Howler talking to some pretty bird. She’s tall, possibly about five foot eight, but that’s in the heels she’s wearing. He doesn’t look happy.
Her long blonde hair hangs to the middle of her back, and she looks about nineteen. Fuck, her tits are almost tumbling from the tank top she’s wearing. Thankfully she’s wearing jeans, or my dick would be standing to attention if she had her ass out. Even so, with those tight ass cheeks in the denim, I can’t deny she’s hot.
“But Dad,” she whines, and my breath is knocked from my lungs when I realize she is Howler’s fucking daughter. Jesus Christ. “Why can’t I go to the party? Mom only dropped me here so you could let me stay with you for a while.”
“Get inside and change. Put your tits away,” he grunts, and the girl sighs when she makes her way past me, I get a whiff of vanilla which does nothing to calm my thickening erection.
Too young.
She’s too fucking young, Darius.
She glances my way, big, bright blue eyes locking on mine. Her plump, pink lips shimmer with gloss, and her rosy cheeks darken when her gaze roves over me. I am so fucked.
Once she’s gone, I take a deep breath and face my best friend. “What was that about?”
“Fuckin’ ex-wife lumps me with a newly turned nineteen-year-old,” he grumbles, and I hold back my smile at my guess at her age. But still, I remind myself, she’s too fucking young. “It okay if she stays here a while?”
“Yeah, you know my home is your home,” I tell him, while my mind starts running through scenarios that I doubt he wants to hear.
“Thanks, man.” He slaps me on the shoulder in a show of camaraderie, but if I were to be honest about my thoughts, he’d probably knock me the fuck out. I would if I were him. Before I can answer, he asks, “You headed out now?”
“Yeah. Not sure when I’ll be back. I’ll need you to watch the club,” I tell him. “Also, she can stay as long as she wants.” I gesture with my head toward the door where his far too young for me, daughter just walked through.
“Thanks, man. Anything you need while you’re away, just call.”
I nod. “See you soon.” Before he can say anything more, I head to my Harley and swing a leg over. I pick up my helmet, but before I slip it on, my gaze flicks to the house, and on the second floor, at the window which is at the staircase, is a pretty blonde girl watching me.
I’m so fucked.
Time to get away from here.
A few weeks of hunting and killing in Europe will sort me out.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I pull away and head to the waiting plane.
33
Scarlett
Lycan saunters into the office where I’m perched on the couch, reading my Kindle. The latest romance novel from my favorite author released and I’m already four chapters in. But when I look up at my husband, all those romantic thoughts dissipate.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, pushing to my feet as he closes the distance between us.
He settles on the sofa, pulling me into his lap, and I wonder what has happened. From the expression on his face, it looks like he’s gotten some bad news. And that is never good.
“Darius has been in contact,” he starts, and my chest tightens. Lycan said that his brother had been keeping tabs on my folks, making sure they both behave. Because of reasons I don’t want to know, torturing my dad with what we know about him is better than sending him to prison. Although, I think that was something Darius enjoyed more than Lycan.
“Tell me?” I plead, looking at my husband, taking in his expression, which is deadly serious, I pull in a deep breath and hold it.
“You dad committed suicide last night,” he finally says, and my lungs expel the breath I’d been holding onto. “We’re not sure if it was murder made to look like he took his own life or not, but there’s an investigation into it.”
My mouth opens, but I find no words. My heart slowly cracks at the thought of my father taking his life. But not in sadness, more that I didn’t get a chance to have a normal relationship with him. He’s a bad man. He’s done deplorable things, and my heart aches because I feel cheated that my family is so broken.
Lycan’s thumbs swipe at my cheeks, and I realize he’s wiping tears away. “I’m sorry, little red,” he tells me. The seriousness in his eyes tells me he knows exactly how I feel. And he does to a certain extent. He lost his father as well as his mother, but at least he had a close relationship with Conall Shaw.
“Is it wrong that I don’t feel sad for him, but sad for me instead?” I ask, my voice raspy with emotion as I blink away more tears that seem to be coming more frequently. It’s as if the floodgates have opened and I can’t close them again.
Lycan’s arms cocoon me. He holds me tight, keeping me close to his chest, and I can hear his heart beating in a steady rhythm. The calmness of his demeanor grounds me, and even though I let my emotions run free for the first time in a long while, especially for my family, I’m safe right here.
When I first came to Lycan’s home, I didn’t think I could ever love him. There was so much anger inside me, but now I realize it wasn’t him I was angry at, it was my father. He was the one who put me in a situation where I could’ve easily been in danger. I’m thankful Lycan stepped in. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if he hadn’t, and that’s the worst part. My father didn’t care as long as he got away with what he did.
My life meant nothing to the man who created me, and that’s what hurts the most. Parents are meant to keep you safe and protect you, and yet, the man holding me now is the one who did all that and more.
I don’t know how long we sit in the silence of the office. But as darkness takes hold of the room, I realize it must’ve been hours because when I finally open my eyes, it’s nighttime. At least, it’s dark out.
“What time is it?” I ask, lifting my head from Lycan’s shoulder to find him watching me. His gaze intense, warm, yet filled with love and affection.
“Almost seven,” he tells me before pressing his lips to my forehead. “You needed rest, and I wanted to hold you.” His voice is rough with emotion, and I wonder how I got so lucky.
“So, you spent the afternoon watching me sleep?” I ask, a small smile playing on my lips, and he nods. “Most people would say that’s strange.”
“I never once claimed to be normal, little red,” he tells me before suddenly standing, holding me tighter as a squeal falls from my lips. H
e carries me through the house until we reach the kitchen. When Lycan sets me down on the countertop, my stomach growls.
“I’m hungry,” I tell him, causing him to chuckle. It’s obvious that’s the problem, since the silence is shattered by my rumbling stomach.
“I’m guessing my girl wants something quickly, so a sandwich will have to do,” he informs me, and I sit there, my legs dangling from the counter as he moves about the kitchen. I haven’t ever seen him cook and watching him just making a sandwich is definitely one of the hottest things I’ve ever witnessed.
Silence hangs over us for a long moment. There’s been something weighing on my mind. The one thing I haven’t yet told Lycan about me—what happened at college. Even though I told my mother some of it, I didn’t admit the whole truth, not to her. But Lycan would understand, at least, I hope he will.
“Will you tell me something,” he says as he works, interrupting my inner thoughts. He slices the bread, and I watch him add the spread before grabbing some cheese and tomato, layering it perfectly. He then continues to heat the cooker and places a pan on the stove.
“What would you like to know?” I smile, taking in the way he builds the layers of cheesy goodness. The heat of the cooker warms me, as he sets the sandwich in, and the sizzle starts.
“When you were studying,” he starts, but he doesn’t have to continue because my secret is something he already knows about. Perhaps not the whole truth, but what I’ve kept hidden for so long, is about to come out. “Something happened.”
Two words cause my breath to catch. Lycan doesn’t say anything more as he picks up a plate after shutting off the pan. “My kind of grilled cheese,” he explains, but he doesn’t look at me. “I can’t be your father, or give you those years back, but I can show you the affection I feel for you now. I can look after you and care for you.” He sounds almost sad, as if he would do it if he could, and my chest aches with emotion.
“I know, Lycan. I know that because you’ve already given me so much.” When he finally turns around to face me, he’s offering me the plate with a steaming grilled sandwich with cheese melting from the corners. The scent makes my stomach rumble once more, causing him to laugh out loud.
“Eat.” An order. One I don’t argue with because I’m famished.
He watches me for a long while, a smile on his face as I moan at the deliciousness of my sandwich. It’s such a simple thing, but it’s definitely one I’m enjoying. Once I’m done, Lycan takes the plate from me and sets it on the counter.
“I had just turned eighteen when I went to my first frat party,” I start. I finished school a year earlier than everyone else and managed to get into college with my father’s connections. “I was young and stupid, but also, I wasn’t. I’ve read the stories of girls who got hurt, who got…” Shaking my head, I drop my gaze, the guilt and shame of what happened still haunts me. It’s like a phantom pain that just doesn’t seem to go away.
“You got drunk?” Lycan urges gently as he watches me.
I shake my head. “No. I was actually still sober. A little buzzed, but sober.” When I finally lift my gaze to meet his, I continue, “These two guys danced with me for most of the night, and I felt powerful, in control, until I wasn’t.”
“And nobody helped you?” I can hear the rage burning in his words. The question drenched in pure anger at the fact that I was alone, and none of the students bothered to come to my aid.
“They were all pretty wasted. I mean,” I whisper now, feeling the burden of what happened. “I was alone with them in this room. One pinned me to the wall, the other stuck his fingers under my skirt, inside my panties.”
With every word I mutter, I watch as Lycan’s rage takes over and the wolf bares its teeth. I’m sure if those boys walked in here now, they’d be mauled by my husband.
“I wasn’t… They didn’t get any further than their fingers. They didn’t rape me,” I finally utter the words. “But…” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Fear and adrenalin had spiked through me, at least, that’s what I tell myself because I… I...”
“You were wet, turned on,” Lycan finishes for me, and I shamefully nod. “I don’t want you to ever feel ashamed to tell me something.” His voice is low, rough with emotion. “What happened to you was reprehensible. But how you deal with it, in your mind, in your heart, that’s how you cope. If you want to talk to someone, a professional, I’ll go with you, or not. But I never want you to feel as if this is your fault for enjoying a fantasy, or a kink.”
“I think…” Sighing, I rub my hands over my face, trying to come up with a reason for it. There’s no doubt I felt broken, betrayed by my own body. The helpless feeling, along with the way they touched me flicked a switch inside me, and now I’m delving even deeper into the darkness.
“Anything we do, every moment we’re in a scene, or each time I touch you, if you feel you need to stop, if you have to walk away, tell me.” The honesty in Lycan’s gaze heals my shattered heart, not completely, but the way he’s looking at me with so much love and affection, makes me wonder if my beliefs all these years, were a lie. “I love you, Scarlett Bardot, and I’ll do anything for you.” There’s no lie in his admission. He would do anything for me.
“Deep down, I don’t think it’s wrong, with you, but with them…” My words falter once more, but Lycan steps closer. He doesn’t touch me, not yet, but he does offer strength even from inches away.
I meet those green eyes that are currently regarding me with breathtaking emotion. He’s always stolen my moans and whimpers, but right now, he’s stealing my thoughts.
“With you it’s right.”
“Then don’t question it. Most people deny themselves pleasure because they listen to what society tells them. You’re not hurting anyone. You’re not hurting me. And if I were to ever cross a line, you have to tell me.”
Shaking my head, I speak, “You wouldn’t, but if I ever felt the need to stop our play, I will. I just spent years feeling guilty for getting turned on.”
“You shouldn’t feel that way,” Lycan tells me. “For years I thought being domineering over a woman was abuse, until I learned there are ways to enjoy yourself without hurting anyone. Safe spaces.”
A small smile cracks my lips, and I nod. “Okay.” My stomach growls even louder, causing Lycan to chuckle. “I guess I should eat.”
He nods. Leaving me on the counter, I watch as he creates a fresh sandwich, and hands it to me once it’s steaming. Lycan watches me eat, and once I’m done, he takes the plate and places it in the dishwasher before closing the distance between us.
His hands grip my thighs as he pulls me closer, stepping between my spread legs. His mouth at mine, inches from me, as he whispers, “Now it’s time for my dinner.” And the low, huskiness of his tone tells me he’s probably not having what I just did.
With a squeal, I wrap my legs around his waist, and my arms twine around his neck as he lifts me once more and makes his way out of the kitchen. We head up the stairs to our bedroom, which I’ve asked him about redecorating, so it actually looks like our room, not just his.
When my ass bounces on the mattress, I realize I’m in for a long night. One that will make me forget about my heartache, and have me feeling like I’m completely, and utterly claimed and possessed by my own prince charming, even if he is a rabid wolf.
Epilogue
Lycan
One month later
It’s time to put the past to bed. It has been for a long time, but now that I’m readying myself to be a father, I can’t continue to allow history to walk in and fuck up my family. Walking into Heaven, I take in the clientele, all dressed to the nines, and each person looking as if they’d entered their own personal sanctuary.
I find the woman I’m looking for at the bar. I figured that’s where she’d be. In the corner, slinking away one of her signature martinis, the familiar eyes that I held so dear years ago glance up to find me.
“Lycan,” she murmurs seductively.
And if it weren’t for Scarlett giving me all I need, being my wife, a mother to my unborn children, I would have considered Yasmine. But I found love. I found happiness, and my need for the woman before me is no longer there. It’s as if my little red extinguished a flame, and I’m thankful for it.
“Yasmine,” I greet her. “I was looking for you.”
“Oh?” She arches a brow, her gaze taking me in from head to toe. “It’s good to see you without that flimsy little girl you were parading around.”
Anger surges through me, but I swallow it down. I slip my hand in my pocket and pull out the gift my brother left me after he shot me. When Kahn found the truck, he told me Darius had left a hint as to what he wanted. The small, square photos were taken on a disposable. Even though Yasmine denied being with my brother when I first questioned her all those years ago, Darius had filmed their escapades. The photos are snapshots he’d printed out from those videos, which I’m almost fucking certain he still has.
I don’t know if it was his way of apologizing for all the shit he’d caused, but now, I’m thankful he gave them to me. I drop them on the counter in front of her, and I watch as Yasmine’s face turns into a mixture of anger, shame, and guilt.
“Lycan, I can explain,” she starts, dropping to her heels from the bar stool, following me when I turn away from her. My feet carry me to one of the VIP booths, and I settle on the velvet sofa.
“There’s no need to explain,” I murmur before lifting me hand, and signaling to one of the waiters to bring me a bourbon. When I look at Yasmine again, I smile. But it’s not a friendly gesture, it’s one of pity. “I’m done playing your games. This run around you enjoy so much, it’s over. It has been for a while; I just didn’t have the time to come here and speak to you.”