Troy
Page 6
Ronan absolutely adores his daughter, which is more than can be said for his wife. He releases her then turns back to the table, his face all business once again.
“It’s settled then. Troy will take Kaci.” He shoots a warning glare at me and I hold my hands up in surrender, making him crack a smile at me. “Sean will accompany Dylan. Ethan will help Ardon in the office.” His gaze shifts between us, and Ethan nods his understanding. “Let’s get out of here then. Troy has a father to see.”
Everyone stands and I shoot one last, longing look at Kaci before I head back to my car. How would I survive a week with the object of every one of my desires? My phone vibrates in my pocket just as I slide into the warm leather seat of my car. I pull it out to see Addie’s name, again. I ignore it, again, and slide it into the cup holder by my knee. I don’t want to deal with that situation right now. I don’t want to deal with it at all. I pull out and head east toward Ryland State Penitentiary.
***
“How are you holding up?” I stare into my father’s eyes on the opposite side of the plexi-glass window. His right eye is bruised and swollen and a small cut laces his bottom lip.
It isn’t the first time my old man has shown up to one of our meetings bruised. I’ve been in my fair share of fights, and I know even with Fianna Fáil’s reputation deals can go bad. I learned long ago not to ask him what happened. This would be another one of my father’s many secrets. I rub my fingers absently over the clover on my wrist.
“I’m fine Troy, don’t worry about me.” It is his usual response to me.
But I do worry about him. He is all I have left in this world, and every time I see him he looks a little older, a little more worn out. A little closer to giving up.
“Can you keep a secret for me?” I know he can, but I also know how much he hates doing so when it comes to keeping things from Ronan and Ardon. I’m definitely not ready to share this with either of them.
He eyes me skeptically with a lifted brow. “That sounds daunting, but you know I will. I would do anything for you, son, and I’m no stranger to secrets.”
I lift my gaze to the guards that are pretending not to be listening in a little more closely now. “Addie is pregnant.”
Pale blue eyes widen to saucers in his aging face and his lips slack. “You’re kidding right? Ardon will lose it.”
I shake my head and run my palms over my jeans. “She says it’s mine.”
He lets out a shocked gasp and his head jerks back before his shoulders tighten, and he grips the table, his knuckles turning white with the force. “Tell me this is a prank.” He eyes me pleadingly. I let my silence speak the words that are lodged in my throat. “You know Ardon will demand marriage, don’t you?”
I honestly haven’t thought on Ardon’s feelings or desires. I haven’t even wrapped my head around my own, but I know that isn’t going to happen. “I won’t marry her.”
He slants his eyes at me. “If Ardon demands it you will. You won’t create tension in the organization simply because you chose to be irresponsible.”
“I wasn’t irresponsible. I never am. I’m always so fucking careful, pops. I have no idea how this happened.” I huff the words out in hurried breaths.
“Regardless, it did happen.” He stares at me with sympathy reflected in his eyes before a slight smile crinkles the corners. “I’m a grandpa?”
I nod in response. He doesn’t say anything for a minute. He just sits there with a silly grin on his face.
“I guess you should get a baby room set up at the house then. How far along is she?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I think she said like six weeks or so.”
He narrows a fierce, icy gaze at me. “You better find out, son, and I better never hear the words ‘I don’t know’ while referring to your child again. Do you understand?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and shake my head up and down absently. Dad has never talked to me in such a stern manner regarding my personal life before.
“Yeah, Dad, okay.”
He smiles again. “Good. I’ll keep this to myself for now, but you do realize you’ll have to tell them eventually. It’s not the kind of secret you can keep forever.” A brow rises at me.
I nod. “I know.”
“Times up, Donovan.” The guards step forward and I kiss my fingers, placing them to the glass in our familiar goodbye as he does the same.
I wanted to tell him that I had planned on trying to convince Addie to go with adoption, which I had just decided on my drive out here, but now I just don’t fucking know. My old man had smiled. When was the last time I’d seen him smile?
I had thought he would be all for adoption when I mentioned it, but I’d never gotten around to it. And now? I just don’t fucking know. I watch as they lead him back through the door and into the prison, his chains clinging around his body as they move.
Chapter Five
Kaci
I shove the last of my clothes into my Coach bag and zip it closed around the bulk of my wardrobe. My fingers run over the cross at the end of my necklace and twist it around as I stare at the clock on my bedside table. Troy should be here in less than ten minutes. I still can’t believe Daddy is making me do this. Why couldn’t I go with Sean or Ethan? Why did I have to go at all? Why couldn’t Stella or one of the other girls go meet with the new hooker?
Nervousness assaults me causing my stomach to churn and quiver. I swallow desperately in an attempt to moisten my parched throat. My tongue licks over my suddenly dry lips, and I inhale deeply trying to gather what I can of my scattered wits.
My eyes drift over the pale pink walls of my bedroom and take in the familiarity I won’t have for the next week. I will miss my bed the most, the soft mattress that I practically sink into when I lie down. It’s like sleeping on a cloud, and I fret at the thought of where we might be sleeping tonight.
Daddy said Troy will likely be in Westin for a week. The thought has my heart rate increasing. I could practically hear the thump, thump, in my ears. The one person I have spent the majority of my life trying to stay away from will now be the one person I’m forced to cohabitate with.
I will be within arms distance of him. Close enough to smell the warm scent of his skin or see the speck of gray at the center of his icy-blue eyes. And the whole time I will have to remember all the reasons I have to keep my distance from him.
My cell rings, drawing me away from my inner turbulence. I look down to see Marcus’s name on the screen as “Drinking from the Bottle” blares to life in the space around me. A smile grows wide on my lips, and I flop down onto my mattress, the fresh scent of lavender bouncing up from the sheets as I answer, excited to talk to my best friend before my trip.
“Hey boo!” It’s our usual greeting for each other, and just saying it now brings back memories of Marcus’s childhood nickname for me, boo-boo.
He chuckles, and the sound warms me inside in a way only Marcus can. “Hey Kace, how’s the packing going?”
I sit up and cross my legs underneath me, curling a loose strand of hair around my finger. “Just finished up actually.”
He sighs deeply down the line, his worry evident in the tremor of his voice. “I don’t like this. You shouldn’t be alone with a guy like Troy. I can’t believe your Dad Okayed this.”
Releasing my hair, I rub two fingers slowly over my temple in a calming manner. Marcus has always been a little overbearing when it comes to Troy. He knows all about the brief crush I had when I was twelve, but that was ten years ago, and as far as Marcus knows it’s in the past. I can handle Troy. “I’ll be fine Marcus. I can handle him.”
When his chuckle falls over the line it’s more sarcastic than friendly, and I immediately bristle at his tone. “No woman can handle Troy. He handles them, and then he tosses them aside.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” My brow furrows with the anger vibrating my words. “You think I’ll just fall into bed with him, Marcus? That I have no willpower of my own?�
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He blows out a frustrated sigh. I can almost picture his fingers drumming over the wood of his desk as he tries to formulate his next thought, his dark eyebrows arched. “Relax, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”
I take a deep breath and roll my head along my shoulders to calm myself. I don’t want to fight with Marcus. I always feel a little off when we’re at odds with each other. If I weren’t already convinced that sleeping with Troy was a bad idea, the knowledge that Marcus would look at me as nothing more than another notch on Troy’s very busy bedpost would have done the job. I didn’t disagree. Honestly, that’s what I would become and I won’t lie to myself and pretend like I would somehow be special to him.
“What did you mean?” I say the words calmer now that I’ve rationalized things in my mind.
“Just that I don’t want you hurt, boo-boo. That’s all.” Regret softens his voice.
Marcus is thinking about my heart. Just like a best friend should, and I love him all the more for it. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you when we get to Westin.”
“Okay.” He sounds so forlorn I almost don’t want to hang up the phone. I wish I could better assure him that I would be okay. “Love you, boo.”
“Love you, Marcus.” I hang up, and stand to stretch, slipping my cell into my back pocket as I do.
I know Daddy wants me to be a little more involved in the organization. Being his only child I will have more responsibility than other women in Fianna Fáil, and I accept that. I didn’t like it, but it isn’t like I was given much of a choice. I still get the urge to run or disappear. It is a feeling I am becoming used to. I want out, away from this life of drugs, fighting, and whores.
But I know that is impossible. Daddy will use one of his thousands of connections and I will be brought right back here before I ever have a chance to start over. Sometimes I still fantasize about what life would be like if we hadn’t come back. If Daddy had kept us away from this life in the way he had originally planned.
After I was born Daddy moved us six hours away to a small town north of Palms. He had been concerned about how growing up in this life might affect me in the long run, and was worried I would end up like my mother; cold, calculating, manipulative, unworthy of his love…
All of those dreams were shattered, cast aside after Troy’s mother died. We were living in Westin when that happened, and I still don’t know exactly what the circumstances were that surrounded her death. I didn’t know what Troy was needed in Westin for now either, and for such a long period of time no less. Yet, I suspect it has something to do with his mother.
I overheard a phone call between Daddy and Uncle Ardon. Their voices were muffled, but I could have sworn I’d heard the name Bridgett. After the move back I’d heard that name a lot, usually from Addie while she’d cried into my shoulder.
A knock sounds at the door downstairs and I can hear my mother’s heels click against the marble floors. Seconds later my mother’s frail voice carries up to me.
“It’s for you, dear!” She delicately yells for me, her voice cold and somehow soft at the same time.
I sling my bag over my shoulder, and run my hands down the front of my gray sweatshirt. It isn’t necessarily chilly outside, but I feel like I need to cover up more than usual. Troy has a way of looking at me that makes me feel almost naked under his intense stare.
I walk down the stairs, and pull open the heavy front door. My breath catches in my throat, and my heart starts hammering against my ribs as I take in the devastating sight before me.
Troy’s black hair is spiked around his head as if he’s been running his long fingers through it all morning. His t-shirt pulls taut over his thickly corded arms and chest. Blue eyes roam intensely over me, sending a trail of heat through my entire body. He leans against the porch railing with his legs crossed at the ankles. So much for my sweatshirt idea. His gaze is already penetrating through the thick material.
“Isn’t it a little warm for a sweatshirt?” His eyes stay glued to my chest, and I rub my fingers together at my side as I chew self-consciously at my lip.
“I was chilly.” My voice cracks and I clear it to cover my nervousness.
The air outside is stifling already. Wearing this sweatshirt had been a really stupid idea, and now I desperately want to yank it over my head. I have a tank-top underneath, and I feel almost violent in my need to let the air cool my heated skin.
The lift of one brow combined with his cocky smirk tells me Troy knows exactly why I’m wearing it. However, I refuse to let him think he has changed my mind, or that I care at all about what he thinks he knows.
So I walk around him, and head toward his slick yellow car. It’s the kind of car that makes men jealous and women bend to his will. As if he needs the car for that. I roll my eyes at the thought knowing he can’t see it from behind me.
“Let me take your bag.” His deep voice in my ear tells me he’s closer than I thought he was, and my traitorous body reacts with a pull deep inside I’ve never felt before.
He doesn’t wait for me to answer, and his fingers brush softly against my shoulder as he takes hold of the strap. Even through this ridiculous sweatshirt my skin feels scorched, and I try to force back the shiver that wants to course through me at his sudden touch.
I help him remove it from my shoulder as quickly as possible so I can get his hands off of me. I think I catch a glimpse of a grin on his handsome face, but I turn quickly and climb inside so I can’t be sure.
I sink into the deep, soft leather seats as he closes my door before walking back toward the trunk. He pops it open and tosses my bag inside before slamming it closed again.
As he walks around the car to his side I take a moment to admire his reflection in the side mirror. Just because we can’t ever be together doesn’t mean I can’t admire his long, lean gait, the way his t-shirt clings to the thick muscles of his shoulders. His body seems to glide with his movements rather than stumble through them as I just did.
I am the least graceful person I know. So I am a little envious as I watch his beautifully fluid movements. Every step is taken with purpose. As he reaches his door and pulls it open I shift my gaze to look out the passenger side window. It’s safer for my sanity if I don’t look at him.
As he climbs inside I am immediately assaulted with his warm, delicious scent. I inhale it deeply into my lungs, but keep my gaze adverted. He doesn’t say anything as he pulls out of the drive and onto the busy streets of Palms.
Westin is a three hour drive, and I have a feeling most of it will be spent with silence settled between us. I watch as the city passes by with each mile we claim, until we pass the sign that thanks us for visiting and I drift off to sleep.
***
Fingers brush softly against my cheek and I shiver, goose bumps swimming over my skin. My eyes flutter open, a startled breath leaving my lips at Troy’s proximity. His eyes are so vivid this close to me. His warm breath whispers over my face, and his smile is causing my insides to do funny, unfamiliar things.
“What are you doing?” I whisper the words into the silence and his smile grows wickedly.
“Only what I’ve always dreamed of.” He leans down until his lips brush against mine, firm and deliciously warm.
I gasp in shocked delight my lips parting, opening for him. Long fingers run down over my cheek in a path to my neck, chills popping up along my skin. His perfect teeth nip at my bottom lip before dragging the plumped softness into his mouth in a gentle suck.
When he presses forward, deepening the kiss, our tongues dance together in a seductive tangle of desire. I moan into his mouth and grip onto his shoulders tightly. My hands squeeze his rock-hard biceps as I pull his body down until he is enveloping me in his warmth. The way his solid, muscular body feels covering mine is indescribable.
“Oh God!” I moan into the space between us as he pulls his lips from mine to kiss a trail down my neck. I shiver again, liquid warmth pooling at the delta between my thighs.
I jerk up in my seat, my heart hammering, and my skin moist. Without hesitating I rip my sweatshirt over my head to cool my sweat-slick body, revealing my black tank underneath. I feel the blood rush to my face; can picture the blush spreading over my skin. I can’t bring myself to even look at Troy to see what expression is on his face. I really hope all of that stayed in my head. Please, God don’t let him have heard any of that. What is wrong with me? We’ve been alone a matter of hours, at the most, and I’m already allowing him into my dreams.
“I don’t know what that was about, but by the sounds you were making I really hope I was involved somehow.” His voice has dropped to a husky whisper.
I see his arm shift out of the corner of my eye, and I know he is adjusting his jeans. Oh God! Mortification sets in as I wonder exactly what he’s heard. Did I speak at all? Or was it just breathy moans and whimpers? This could not be more humiliating.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I try to swallow back the shame bubbling up inside me, but my throat is too dry and I end up coughing and spluttering over my words.
Troy laughs and reaches over to grip my thigh in his big warm hand, the sensation shooting sparks over my already sensitive skin. “Just tell me this, was I really that good?”
I jerk my head around to stare at him with wide, embarrassed eyes, my lips slack open. Oh, God, he does know! He chuckles and moves his hand from my leg, placing it back on the steering wheel.
“Chill out, Kace, I was just playing.” Belying his words he reaches down to adjust himself again, and this time I shamefully watch. “Well, kind of. Those sounds were actually pretty hot.”
I scoff at him. “You’re disgusting.”
When his head shakes softly back and forth a lock of his dark hair falls slightly over his forehead, and my fingers tingle with the crazy urge to push it back for him. “I know.”