by Franca Storm
But, instead, I had family shit to deal with. I had to see the very people I'd been happily avoiding for sixteen years. I'd just make the best of the good parts of the trip, on having her with me.
I turned my head and told her. "I'm glad you're with me."
She smiled back at me. "Me too."
She tightened her hold around me and I started the bike.
Here goes nothing.
10
~Deviant~
"WHAT DO YOU THINK?"
I eyed my mom, taking in her question.
I had a few thoughts, but I wasn't ready to put them out there yet, not until I was certain I'd taken in everything there was to see in the video footage she'd pulled up.
"Let me see it again," I said.
Her hand on the PLAY button, she paused and asked, "Sweetheart, don't you want to sit down first, have a drink, or something to eat?"
I tensed at that all-too-familiar tone from the great manipulator herself. Anastacia Reilly. It was that sickly-sweet fake tone that tried to conceal the order within it. She was trying to give me a command. Sixteen years hadn't changed that much then.
Sky and I had arrived about twenty minutes ago after the four-hour ride down here. I'd made sure to stop a few times to give Sky a break. It'd been a long time since she'd been on the back of my bike and it wasn't easy to do a long-haul ride without experience under your belt. We'd eaten during our last stop, so we were good in that respect already.
But I didn't want to speak for Sky. I eyed the door to my dad's office. Still no sign of her yet. She'd headed off to the bathroom to freshen up from the ride and she'd been gone for a good ten minutes.
It had left me alone in a bubble of awkward tension with my mom.
At least I'd had the mission to focus on and the video footage to mull over.
I shook my head. "Let's just get this done."
"Luke, I–"
"How's it going in here?" Sky's bright, upbeat tone sounded, thankfully interrupting the start to a conversation that I really didn't want to have. The woman had impeccable timing. No doubt about it.
My mom sighed at her missed opportunity.
I took in Sky looking like she'd just stepped out of the pages of some magazine. Her hair had shifted from its windswept and helmet-hair look, to being perfect and bouncy once again. Her eyes were popping with the makeup she'd put on. And as she reached me and I wrapped my arm around her, she smelled incredible, a fresh flowery scent wafting from her. I'd told her I didn't need her doing all of that for me. She was sexy-as-fuck no matter what she was wearing, even with the smell of the road on her. In fact, it was probably sexier to me when she was casual and a little mussed up. She looked so damned fuckable. But she was a woman who liked to dress to impress. And in this household, around Anastacia Reilly, that meant uptight perfection. Jesus. Well, whatever made my woman comfortable.
"You hungry? Thirsty?" I asked her, as I held her against me at my dad's desk where all three of us had congregated now.
She shook her head. "I'm fine."
I nodded, then gestured to my mom. "Go ahead. Play it again."
Watching once wasn't enough. You inevitably missed things. It was kind of like watching a TV show several times over. Each time you watched it, you found yourself noticing certain details and intricacies that you hadn't during the first, or even the second or third time you'd viewed it. When talking about security footage, the stakes were a great deal higher, and significant too.
I shifted my weight, gently stroking Sky's back up and down as the footage played again.
It wasn't the best quality, grainy as fuck. But I'd worked with worse during my time with Iron Kings.
"There. Pause," Sky spoke.
Mom stilled the footage right where Sky had indicated.
Sky pulled away from me and stepped closer, pointing to one of the two guys on the screen. "That's Patrick Walsh."
I took in the guy she was talking about.
He was a major contradiction in appearance alone. He was a big, hulking guy sporting a tailored designer suit with tattoos on the backs of either hand, one snaking up his neck that was some sort of barbed wire design. His hair was styled in a severe blond buzzcut. Honestly, he looked like the definition of a wolf in sheep's clothing.
The wolf part was coming through loud and clear as I watched him beating the shit out of my little brother in an alleyway that my mom had told me was right at the back of Matt's restaurant. It was difficult looking for cold, hard details and evidence while that was going down right in front of my face.
"Who is he?" I asked Sky.
A grave expression came over her face as she told me, "When I knew him, he was a dealer of favors."
"Mafia?"
"Not that big, no. But he is dangerous." She cringed at the monitor. "As you can see for yourself."
I stared at her, her answer just posing more questions, questions I wasn't sure I actually wanted answered. But how could I not ask? Dammit. "And how do you know him?"
She hesitated. Her gaze strayed to my mom, who looked almost as eager as I was to know the answer. When she looked back at me, she couldn't meet my eyeline, as she said, "Let's just stay on track, okay?"
"Fine." I didn't want to have it out with her right now when we were trying to get the lay of the land with the mess my brother was caught up in, especially not in front of my mom. We'd be having words later, though, whether she liked it or not.
"I hadn't heard a word about him until I saw this footage," my mom said.
"You don't exactly run in the same circles as a guy like this, Mom."
"I suppose not, no. But your brother could have told us. He could have come to us about all of this before it went this far, to him being attacked in an alley like a common street urchin."
Street urchin? Yeah, they really didn't run in the same circles. At all.
"That area of downtown where his restaurant is located is an awful, dangerous place. Completely unlike him." She shook her head. "He's clearly acting out. He's doing anything he can to defy us, it seems. Dropping out of law school, entering into the restaurant business, setting up shop in a sleazy place and consorting with the likes of this… Patrick Walsh."
"You think he's throwing a tantrum?" Sky asked, clearly surprised at my mom's reasoning.
"I think he's trying to impress his big brother," Mom answered, eyeing me accusingly.
I blew right past that loaded comment and stayed on point. The faster I ascertained the details, the faster I could get the hell out of here. There was no fucking way I was going to let it drag out. It was already painful as it was with so much unsaid shit between us, so much animosity, guilt, and anger from unresolved issues that'd resulted in wounds that'd been left open when I'd taken off. It was a shitload of drama that was threatening to boil over. And I wouldn't let it. I didn't do drama. No matter how hard it was forced on me.
"The timestamp on the video was almost two months ago. Why didn't you contact me sooner?"
"You have a new life now. You're busy."
Nice try. "The real reason, Mom."
"What? How do you know that isn't–"
"Because I know you. There's more to it. What?"
She sighed heavily. "I didn't want to bring the likes of your club into the already volatile mix of unsavory characters."
"Ouch," Sky piped up, giving my mom a sour look.
It just rolled off my shoulders, though. I was used to it.
Sky clearly didn't feel the same way, because she told my mom vehemently, "The men of Iron Kings are decent, loyal, and good-natured. There's nothing unsavory about them or–"
"It's all right," I said, giving her hand a squeeze.
"But–"
"Like you said, let's just stay on track, yeah?"
With reluctance, she nodded. I kissed the top of her head and I felt her relax a bit against me.
"Mom, go on."
She started pacing, her urgency obvious, as she explained, "I tried the proper route
first. I called the police when Matthew showed up here black and blue for our Sunday dinner, but he refused to let them help, insisting that it was all a misunderstanding or some such nonsense. He's obviously scared and this situation is far beyond anything I can comprehend. So, I reached out to you."
"All right. So, Patrick Walsh is the guy who financed the start up for Matt's restaurant?"
"Yes," she confirmed. "I had a PI check into it. It's definitely him. Their arrangement has obviously gone sour. From how tight-lipped Matthew was about it, how afraid he was to even discuss it with us or the police, I'm sure it's not over. He's in serious trouble, Luke."
"Is that everything?"
"It's everything my PI got, yes. I can email you the details he sent along to me."
"Is there anything else I need to know? Anything at all?"
She was in a state, so I had to make damned sure she hadn't missed communicating any crucial information in her panicked, unfocused headspace. It was more than a little strange seeing her all flustered and out of sorts. She was normally so forthright and on top of everything. She took pride in projecting an infallible image at all times. But I got it. Not only was Matt, who she still considered her baby, in trouble, but it was way out of her wheelhouse, something she was ill-equipped to even attempt to deal with.
She twirled a lock of her hair around nervously, before revealing, "He doesn't know I've called you here. In fact, as far as he's aware, we've dropped the entire issue."
"What?"
"He's not the open young man you remember. After he unceremoniously dropped out of law school, he became withdrawn, secretive and very intense about keeping his life from us. He hides a lot now, Luke. He won't like the idea of this interference. I thought you could help him covertly without alerting him."
"I can't, Mom. It's enough of a red flag that I'm here at all. He won't buy me just coming back here for a familial visit. Not after sixteen years of estrangement."
"But–"
"I'll take it from here." I slid my hand into Sky's and turned to go, when the office door flew open and none other than my dad stormed on in.
He really hadn't aged well. Not even the designer suit he was sporting could draw focus away from that. He was withered and out of shape, so many wrinkles etched into his skin. His thick hair had thinned considerably, and it was more white than brown now.
He took me in for a second, his expression a medley of disrespect and disgust mixed with shock at seeing me after so long. I'd been a boy when I'd left home. He'd never met the man standing before him now.
He shot a look behind me, anger heating his eyes, as he thundered at my mom, "You actually did it, Ana? You called him here? We'd agreed it was foolish and unnecessary."
"Matthew needs help, Clay."
"Not his help. He's not a part of this family any more. Come on, he's nothing but ignorant biker trash now."
Sky's hand tightened in mine. She was on the verge of reacting, on saying something, and speaking her mind in the admirable way she always did. Always ready to jump to my defense. But it would just intensify an already volatile situation, just amplify the drama to a state I didn't want to embrace. My goal was to help Matt, then get gone. I wasn't going to allow myself to respond to the family bullshit and get dragged along in that brutal undertow. Those days were past.
My dad was right about one thing. I wasn't a part of the family anymore. I'd made my own. I was happy with the life I'd made with Iron Kings. I was proud of the man I'd become. I didn't need permission or validation from them, or anyone.
With all of that in mind, I brushed past my dad without a word and led Sky out of the office with me. I could hear my parents arguing heatedly until we'd finally made it far enough away not to be able to pick it up any longer.
As we stepped through the front doors and out into the courtyard, I drew in a centering breath.
"Are you okay?" Sky asked, stroking my arm gently.
"I wasn't expecting a welcoming committee."
"I know, but, still, that was brutal."
"I'm not one of them anymore. I guess, I never really was."
And I was more than fine with that. I wasn't back here to mend fences.
The mission was all that mattered.
11
~Skylar~
AFTERGLOW.
That elation, immense satisfaction, and sense of peace all wrapped up into one.
I was utterly awash in it.
After the brutal reunion at the Reilly estate, D had been in need of a release. A major one. It had led to three straight hours of intense, kinky fucking. Utter ecstasy.
I was beyond spent. It had been twenty minutes and I still hadn't moved a muscle from my sprawled-out position among the mussed up luxurious sheets. D had invited me to join him in the shower, but I'd been too sleepy, content to just chill here and bask.
I was vaguely aware of the running water of the shower shutting off.
I heard a chuckle that finally pushed me to open my eyes.
I was glad I did when I took in the delicious sight of D strolling out of the bathroom with just a white cotton towel slung low on his hips. He was drying his long hair with another, ruffling it roughly. I licked my lips at the sight of his tattoos. One on each shoulder. On his left was a tattoo of his club crest. The right had a pair of spread eagle wings with the word Wild beneath them. That was him in a nutshell, wild and free-spirited.
"You okay there, my love?"
"Mmm hmm," I murmured.
He grinned and perched on the edge of the bed. "I'm taking your exhausted murmurs as one hell of a compliment."
"You should." He was a frigging God in bed. There was never a time when he didn't bring his A-game. It was like an Olympic sport to him or something. That was how intense he was about it, how much effort and passion he put into it. I'd thought I'd been pretty experienced myself and able to hold my own, but when we'd met I realized I'd been wrong. He'd guided me into the big leagues and taught me so much. And boy, were we good together.
"You look so fucking sexy naked and twisted up in the covers like this," he said, reaching out and stroking my back.
I jerked away. "Don't start things up again. I need recovery time. I can't take another orgasm right now."
"Never thought I'd hear those words from anybody."
"Liar." With the way he worked, I had little doubt he'd wiped a ton of women out like this.
He didn't touch me, but he leaned in close and told me in that sexy, rumbling voice, "You're the only one I've ever gone all-out with. You're the only one who can take me the way I need. You're special."
"Aww. Thank you."
"What about you?"
"Huh?" I murmured.
"Am I the only one you've gone all out with? Or does Walsh also qualify?"
I tensed. Oh no.
I turned my face into the pillow and pulled the covers up in an attempt to hide from his complicated and uncomfortable question.
But he wasn't willing to let it go. I heard rustling, a couple of soft thuds that had to be him losing the towels and hanging them to dry over a chair or something. Then the bed dipped as he climbed on and settled under the covers right next to me. The next thing I knew, he was brushing my hair out of my face and urging, "Sky, talk to me."
With a grunt, I lifted my head and hauled my body up, pulling the covers up with me and shielding my boobs from his view. I didn't feel comfortable having this discussion while being stark naked in front of him.
"This isn't fair. You know I let my guard down when I'm sleepy and it's been known to make me loose-lipped around you."
"You mean, truthful and open?"
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be dramatic. You're reading too much into this. I wasn't hiding anything from you. We've just never had a detailed discussion about our past… involvements. We both leave our past where it belongs… in the damned past."
"Yeah, normally I'm right there with you on that, but this guy is right smack damn in the here and now. I need to kno
w what we're walking into so I can gauge our best approach."
I cocked an eyebrow. "Our best approach? Like using my former relationship with him as some sort of leverage?"
"I was thinking as an in, but if your connection to him is that extreme, then, yeah, leverage."
I shifted my weight and settled myself upright against the pillows. His gaze was riveted on mine, awaiting what had become vital information in his mission to help his brother. Dammit. I really hadn't expected this when I'd come down here with him. Patrick Walsh was a complication I'd never wanted to encounter again. But I had little choice. I wouldn't let D walk into this situation blindly or alone. He needed my help, so he'd get it. Let the chips fall where they may for me. Besides, I had resources now, a powerful network at my back that would serve as my protection if the worst came to the worst.
So much for sticking to the legitimate route. It looked like the darkness I'd once almost been swallowed by had come for me again.
Running my fingers through my hair, I pulled myself from those disturbing thoughts and focused on what D needed to know.
"Patrick isn't a run-of-the-mill loan shark. He doesn't just ask for the money he's lent to be paid back at high interest. He asks for favors. He only lends to people who are in a position to give him something worthwhile in return. What he wants from your brother is any guess, but it could be something to do with the Reilly dynasty, some sort of inroad into the power that your parents wield."
"And how did you fit in with him?"
"It was about seven years ago when I was first starting to make a real name for myself. We were at the same level then. We both wanted the same thing. To be massively successful in the business world. Unfortunately, it made both of us a little desperate. I'd already had two failed startups. When I met him, I was working on a bar and lounge development. Kind of like a sexier version of Tonic. I was struggling to get it off the ground when an unforeseen complication with its construction threatened to wipe me out before its doors ever got the chance to open. Patrick had just made good on one of his first major investments and he had the cash right there and then. No waiting. I took him up on his offer."