Troy

by S Kline

  Troy

  Fianna Fáil: Soldiers of Destiny

  By: S. Kline

  9/21/2014

  Troy & Kaci’s Playlist

  1. Wicked Games- Phillip Phillips

  2. Will You Be There- Boyce Avenue

  3. Without You- Hinder

  4. You Won’t Be mine- Matchbox Twenty

  5. Beautiful Disaster- Jon McLaughlin

  6. Better Together- Jack Johnson

  7. Call Me- Shinedown

  8. Dirty Little Thing- Adelitis Way

  9. Drinking From The Bottle- Calvin Harris

  10. Edge of A Revolution- Nickleback

  11. Find You- Zedd

  12. Gone- Matt Nathanson

  13. Human- Christina Perri

  14. Jar of Hearts- Christina Perri

  15. Kiss Me Slowly- Parachute

  16. Striptease- Hinder

  17. This Life- Curtis Stigers & the Forest Rangers

  18. Use Me- Hinder

  19. Wherever You Go- Ron Pope

  20. Life in the pain- Safetysuit

  Acknowledgements

  Wow! I can’t even describe how thankful I am for all of the support I have gained along my journey. As a first time novelist I experienced a lot of self-doubt. I know I can’t be the only one who feels like it’s never quite good enough, but with the support of those around me I have accomplished something that was once only a dream to me. I could never have done it alone, and with that being said I have quite a few people I need to thank.

  First I want to thank my editor, Ashley Williams. Without her I would be completely lost in a world of words that don’t quite make sense. She keeps my writing in line, and I know this is only the beginning of a series of books that will need her expertise.

  Next I need to thank my BETA readers, Laurie Brandt, Shermaine Dowling, and Jaclyn Perovich. Without these amazing people I probably would have quit a while ago. This goes back to never feeling like it’s quite good enough. Their constant encouragement, along with a truck load of caffeine is what kept me going.

  I’d also like to thank one of my best friends, Allie Jean-Baptiste. She’s been my biggest cheerleader, and understands me in a way not many people do. I don’t know what I would do without her on my team.

  Lastly I want to thank my husband, my family, and my fans.

  Having a husband who understands that this is a dream I am serious about making a reality is a huge blessing. He understands the days when laundry falls behind, I haven’t slept, and coffee is on constant refill. He encourages me and lets me know that he’ll support me no matter what. What more can a girl ask for? He’s amazing.

  The rest of my family has been just as wonderful. They understand when I lose myself in the story and don’t answer their calls right away. They don’t cast my stories aside as just a silly dream, but encourage me to fulfill these dreams.

  The sense of fulfillment I get when I hear how excited my fans are about reading my stories is indescribable. I hope all of you continue to lose yourselves in imagination, and never give up on your own dreams. You are all amazing and I appreciate every single one of you.

  I am truly blessed to have this amazing blanket of support that surrounds me, and I can’t wait to see where this journey takes me.

  Thank you more than words can describe,

  S.Kline

  Prologue

  Six Months Earlier…

  Troy

  Today I will be sitting in the most uncomfortable plastic chair, looking through a plexi-glass window, and talking into a black phone just like I have every week since I was thirteen. I will breathe in the smell of disinfectant and stale mold as I stare into the pale eyes of my father. Only today I won’t be leaving without answers. Today I will find out who killed my mother, and by tomorrow that person will be dead.

  A door opens somewhere on the other side of the glass and two uniformed guards walk in with my chained-up father dressed in an orange jumpsuit between them. They’ve shaved his dark hair close to his head, and he seems to have more wrinkles in his tanned skin every time I see him.

  As the guards move to rest against the wall behind him, he takes the identical plastic chair opposite me and picks up the phone.

  This is as private as our visits get so everything said today will be in code. I will know what he is saying, but anyone who listens in will be clueless. I pick up my phone and ignore the thought of how many germs must be on this piece of plastic.

  “You look good, Troy, more grown up every time I see you.” His voice is cracked and roughened with age. I nod at him and lean in toward the glass.

  “The flowers are blooming outside, spring is rolling in.”

  The skin bunches around his eyes and a pained look crosses his aging features. “I actually miss the winter. Spring is a deceitful bitch. One day is warm, the next cold. It can’t make up its mind.”

  “I prefer to think of the spring as a warrior fighting against the cold. Don’t underestimate its strength. The cold may win a battle or two, but the heat will win the war and the flowers will bloom.” My jaw is set and I maintain firm eye contact. I won’t leave here without this information, not this time.

  “Maybe you’re right son.” His sigh is long and tired. The weight of his secrets weighing heavily on him, and Lord knows my old man has more than his fair share of secrets.

  My eyes fall to his neck where a green clover has been tattooed, the same tattoo that rests on the inside of my wrist, both paying homage to the organization.

  “Do you remember the cabin we used to visit when you were a small boy?” I raise a brow but nod not quite understanding what does that old place has to do with anything. “If it gets too cold you can always go there for warmth. It has always been the one place that has held the answers for me.”

  The answers. I smirk at him and rub a hand over my stubbled jaw. “Maybe Ethan and I will take a trip up there. It will do us good to get away.”

  “How is Ethan?”

  “Great Pops, no worries. Everyone is great. How are you holding up in this place?”

  “Ten minutes, Donovan. Wrap it up.” The husky voice of one of the guards cuts through.

  Dad just nods and focuses his attention back on me. “I’m holding up Troy, don’t ever worry about me. Ronan and Ardon are keeping me well taken care of in here.”

  “I’ll send a thanks their way.”

  “You do that, and just remember what I said. Be careful Troy. You’re my son and I love you. I’ve already lost your mother. Don’t make me lose my son too.”

  I wave off his concern with a wink and a playful grin. “I’m a warrior Pops. I was born for this.” I kiss two of my fingers and lay them against the cool window as Dad does the same. “I’ll see you next week.”

  He looks solemn and tense, but he stands and lets the guards lead him back into the bowels of the prison where my father is serving two consecutive life sentences for crimes tied to the organization. An organization I was born into, molded from, and destined to lead.

  Chapter One

  Present Day…

  Troy

  I squeeze my palms against the side of my head and try to quiet the ringing I know can’t just be from my hangover. Groaning, I start to reach blindly for the nightstand, where I know my cell phone is. It’s too fucking loud, and my pulse is pounding in my head, begging me to put an end to it. I’m stopped short when my hand meets with the soft, pliable flesh of a woman’s tit instead. I trace over the pebbled peak of her nipple, my dick getting harder with every rotation of my fingertip. My eye peeks open, and a smug grin pulls at my lips as thoughts of last night flood back to me.

  I was setting up tonight’s fight when Dylan called to tell me about the party at Ethan’s place. Instead of focusing on prep-work for the fight, I spent the night getting way too
lit up, as usual. Then Bethany cornered me in the bathroom and started running her slutty hands all over my chest and back. What man can resist that?

  She was putting on a show for me all night. The short hem of her silky black dress was riding up her thighs with the sway of her hips as she danced to some techno beat. I stayed to the side letting my gaze follow her body, and sipping my umpteenth beer. I pretended to listen as Dylan told me about some chick that he saw Sean feeling up. When he caught where my attention had drifted to he’d punched me in the shoulder, and walked off.

  By the time I got Bethany back to my place we’d been tripping around each other in the dark on our rush to my bedroom. I made a mental note to check out the picture of roses sitting atop a piano, that usually hung against the wall in the entry way. I’m pretty sure it was on the floor now. I wondered how many pieces I would find it in.

  The ringing starts again, and I let out an exasperated sigh, releasing Bethany and finally grabbing my phone. I stretch, letting the sheets caress the skin of my back as I connect the call.

  “Troy.” I answer, my voice sounding brusque with sleep and dehydration.

  “That’s really annoying you know? I called you. I know who I called.” Addie’s tone is sharp, and I can almost picture her tapping her foot. What the hell is her problem?

  “What do you want Ads I’m a little busy right now.”

  Bethany chooses this moment to giggle quietly, and move her hand over the solid ridges of my abdomen, gentle caresses getting lower and lower…

  “I need to talk to you. It’s pretty important.” I grab Bethany’s wrist gently, but firmly in my hand to stop her from wrapping it around my already hard cock.

  If it wasn’t for the desperation I could hear in Addie’s voice I would blow her off, hang up and get lost in the woman beside me. The only thing holding me back is the way her voice trembles slightly as she speaks. I’ve known Addie my whole life, and I’ve never heard her sound this bereft. It’s almost as though she is trying to hold herself together and failing miserably.

  “Is everything okay?” I rub at my forehead, and blink rapidly in an effort to diminish the lingering effects of last night.

  She sniffles quietly down the phone, and that is enough to make me jump out of bed in a hurry, with no concern for the woman still in it.

  “No!” She wails. “Nothing is okay!”

  My chest tightens as she proceeds to lose it completely; her cries are growing in tempest with each breath as she tries to reign in her emotional outburst. “Ads listen to me, take a deep breath. Good, now tell me where you are.”

  She hiccups through her tears enough to let me know that she is heading to Ma’s Diner, and that she will meet me there. I hang up and pick up the first pair of jeans I see. They are wrinkled from being waded up in a pile on the wooden floor of my room, but I tug them on anyway.

  I pull on the same t-shirt I’d worn the night before, and catch the scent of cigarettes, booze, and what I assume is Bethany’s perfume, as I jerk it over my head. Bethany sits up and watches me as I sit on the edge of the bed to slip my feet into my black converse sneakers. I stand and shove my wallet, cell phone, and some cash into my back pockets.

  “You’re leaving?” Her mouth falls open, her voice pitched high in disbelief.

  I shift my arms through the loops in my shoulder holster before sliding my handgun into place. I pull on the hooded sweatshirt that’s lying over the top of my dresser, and grab up my keys. My dismissal of her is more than obvious as I remain silent under her scrutiny.

  I walk to the door and glance over my shoulder to see the sheet pooled around a tan, narrow waist, heavy breasts on display, tight nipples pebbled into peaks. Regretfully, I pull my gaze away.

  “Yeah, something came up. You can see yourself out.” I shrug half-heartedly, before turning away and opening the door.

  I walk out hearing an annoyed squeal coming from behind me. I ignore it.

  As I step outside I squint at the sight of my canary yellow Spyder sitting in the driveway, shining way too brightly under the morning sun. It is only now, as the fresh ocean air washes over me, that I register how truly fucked up I still feel.

  My whole body aches with the slight thumping in the back of my skull. My mouth is dry and feels like I spent the night sucking on cotton balls. I lick over my dry bottom lip and acknowledge it’s still slightly numb state. Although, that last one could be more from last night’s activities then my many bouts with drugs and alcohol the night before.

  I sink into the soft leather seats, shift into drive, and pull out of the winding driveway. My gaze flicks to Bethany’s cherry-red convertible before focusing once again on the road as I pull onto the nearly desolate street.

  The city is quiet this early in the morning. The only signs of life are the occasional jogger on the beach or business man on the boardwalk. Most of the cities inhabitants are still sleeping. The sun is just rising above the ocean and is casting the sky in shades of purple and pink. I hadn’t even thought to check the time when Addie called. I can’t remember the last time I was awake this early after a night of partying.

  Less than ten minutes later I glide the Spyder into a space at the front of the diner. I’m more than used to the stares of passersby since even in the upper end of the neighborhood this car is considered pricey. This is my greatest investment, as well as the best thing I have ever spent my money on. There is nothing better than getting behind the wheel of this car and letting the vibrations course through you at Mach speeds.

  I climb out and wink at a couple of girls with long blonde hair eyeing up the Spyder. They blush and giggle as they lean into each other. I shove my hands into my jean pockets and step inside, immediately breathing in a lungful of greasy bacon and fresh eggs mixed with the rich aroma of dark coffee. My stomach rumbles at the heavenly smell.

  I glance around quickly, taking in the line of men and women behind the bistro bar. I shift around them and see Addie sitting in a corner booth toward the back. Her blonde hair is falling around her shoulders, and her soft brown eyes, which are a little reddened, are taking in my rumpled appearance.

  A frown graces her pouty lips. She doesn’t look as distraught as she sounded on the phone. In fact if it weren’t for her red-rimmed eyes I wouldn’t know she was upset at all. She actually looks pretty hot in that tight black top she has on.

  I smile as I sit down across from her. An elderly waitress with gray hair tied in a bun atop her head, smiling blue eyes, and an overly friendly smile steps up to the table dressed in the typical diner uniform of a plaid top and black slacks. I order a coffee, black, and wait as the woman shifts to look at Addie expectantly. Addie stays quiet and waves the woman away with a flick of her wrist.

  When we’re alone again I lean forward on my elbows, bringing us close enough that I’m not concerned about anyone overhearing. “What’s going on Ads?”

  Her eyes water and she starts chewing the tip of one perfectly manicured fingernail. “I’m Pregnant, Troy.”

  “Excuse me?” The waitress sits the cup of hot coffee down in front of me before walking quickly away, eyes wide.

  I take a huge swallow, feeling the burn travel straight through me. “How did this happen? I used a condom, and you’re on the pill.”

  Addie’s eyes flicker around the wood-slated walls nervously, and she dusts an imaginary spot off the front of her tight black sweater. My stomach churns and my chest tightens. “You are on the pill, right?”

  Her smile is hesitant, uncertain. “Well…”

  “Oh come the fuck on! You told me you were on the pill.” My heart is now hammering roughly against my chest, and I swear my hands are even starting to shake a bit.

  Nothing scares me, ever. But this? This fucking terrifies me. What will I do with a baby? I would be the worst damn father. I’m too selfish, too young. I’m in a fucking mafia for Christ’s sake! What future could this kid possibly have?

  “I was.” She nods enthusiastically at me before pull
ing her perfectly bowed lips down in a frown again. “But, I was starting to get love-handles!” She whines as if this is a perfectly acceptable reason to lie to me.

  “Fuck!” I shout as I slam my fist down on the table, making the cup shake and coffee splash over the sides. My body is tense, and my teeth are grinding together as I glare at her across the table.

  “Don’t yell at me.” Addie crosses her arms in front of her ample chest as she tosses her blonde hair over one shoulder. “I didn’t get pregnant by myself Troy. You have no right to be pissed at me. Be pissed at yourself for not being more careful.” I can feel the blood heating in my veins and flushing over my skin.

  “What makes you so sure this kid is mine? I haven’t fucked you in weeks, and I’m always careful Ads. You would know that.” I keep my hard stare on her as she moves her head slightly from side to side, her hair swaying around her shoulders.

  “Six weeks to be exact, well according to my doctor anyway.” Her head cocks to the side and she smirks at me.

  I drop my head to rest on my crossed forearms as I try to do the math in my head. She’s right. This kid could very well be mine. I can feel the panic setting in. I don’t know the first thing about being a dad. My palms are sweaty and my thoughts are racing between trying to accept this and rejecting the idea all together. I can’t let this set me back. I have a mission. One that is long overdue. What kind of dad would I be anyway? Not a very good one, I am sure of that.

  “Don’t use the term fucking in reference to what we had Troy. I don’t like it.” Addie’s voice interrupts my thoughts and refuels my anger. This is her fault. I was careful damn it. I know I was.

  “Well that’s too damn bad.” I lift my head to stare at her incredulously. “It was never anything more than that. I won’t sugar coat it for you Ads. I never have.”

  A small sniffle leaves her lips as she brings her fingers up to rest against them. At one time I would have given in to this. I would have wanted to comfort her, make things better. Now I can clearly see the manipulation in it. It’s in her eyes, her actions say she is upset, but her eyes still radiate smugness. This is not the same girl I grew up with. When had she become this way?