Mercy's Angels Box Set (Mercy's Angel #1-3)

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Mercy's Angels Box Set (Mercy's Angel #1-3) Page 47

by Kirsty Dallas


  Chapter 20

  Charlie

  Night had once again fallen, and as the clock ticked by, I grew increasingly agitated. I hadn’t heard from Dillon or Braiden in a few hours, and with tomorrow being the day we were supposed to meet with William, I was beginning to feel a tad fucking stressed. There wasn’t a chance in hell William Levier would get his hands on Rebecca, but since he had her sister he would no doubt try to use her as leverage. Rebecca was on the phone in the office talking to Lola. Bouquets was beginning to feel the strain of Rebecca’s absence. Orders needed to be filled and accounts needed to be paid, but I didn’t feel comfortable letting Rebecca go there, so she was on a conference call with Lola trying to sort it all out from here. I needed to run, fuck, or fight this hostility that was coursing through my veins, but none of them were an option right now. So, that’s when I found myself searching through Dillon’s drawers for a pair of swim trunks, I figured swimming laps would be just as effective in draining the pent up aggression. The dude better not be a speedo man, no way was I wrapping my junk in that shit. Bingo! I stripped bare and pulled on a pair of black swim trunks, which were a little too tight, but I didn’t give a fuck right now. Walking out the back sliding glass door, the cold air outside hit me so hard I almost whimpered like a girl. Fuck it was cold. Moving a little faster, the steam rising from the pool called to me, offering salvation from the icy air. Reaching the side, I dived in. It wasn’t as warm as my Jacuzzi, but it beat the outdoor temperature hands down. I wasn’t much of a swimmer but I knew the basics and began the mind numbing process of swimming length after length. Embracing the burn in my muscles I tapped the tiled end of the pool, turned and swam back to the other end. When my lungs began to ache and my arms and legs were finally numb, I stopped, breathing hard as I clung to the side of the pool. A cute pair of bare feet greeted me, toenails painted in a soft shade of pink that I hadn’t noticed before. Reaching out I gently grasped her ankle, allowing my hand to travel up her calf. She wore a warm, bulky bathrobe, and as my hand travelled higher, I suspected that she was naked underneath it. I glanced up at the amused look on her face.

  “Warm in there?” she asked, her voice a gentle feminine stroke to my dick. I nodded. Her eyes never left mine as she shrugged out of the bathrobe, revealing her spectacular naked body beneath. “Shit, it’s not out here.” She shivered, climbing into the water beside me.

  “I should warn you, if Braiden and Dillon drop by and see you like this, I might have to kill them.” She smiled and began to move away from me. Fuck, I needed her, now. I pulled off the too tight shorts and began to stalk her through the warm water.

  “We needed to have make up sex, that’s the best part about fighting and we missed it.” She backed herself against the side of the pool and I moved in.

  “I’ve never had make up sex,” I admitted.

  “I’ve never had it with someone I loved,” she said, blushing.

  She finally said it—the ‘L’ word. I had already confessed my love to her and I knew she cared for me, a lot, but I didn’t expect to hear it from her so soon. It stopped me in my tracks and I could see her become visibly nervous.

  “So,” she said awkwardly, “we should move right on to the sex part.”

  I swam forward and pressed myself against her, kissing her hard, allowing my tongue to delve deep into her mouth. My hands got busy, stroking and caressing her body, and when her little hand wrapped around my dick I nearly came from the sheer beauty of it. I encouraged her to wrap her legs around my hips as I guided myself into her hot core. Nothing felt better than this, it was like coming home from a tired miserable day and being greeted with such exquisite beauty and warmth. Thrusting forward I reveled in the tight heat clenched around my dick, and the softness in my palm as I gently squeezed her breast.

  “Say it again,” I murmured against her ear, slowly moving in and out of her.

  “Let’s move on to the sex part?” She whispered, breathlessly.

  I stilled my hips and she tried to move like the greedy little vixen she was, but I held her steady. “Cute Betty Boop, but not what I was hoping to hear.” Kissing her neck I pinched a nipple, enjoying the breathless moan as she tried to rock against my hips. Not moving within her was excruciating, but I knew it would be worth the wait just to hear those words again.

  “Move,” she panted desperately.

  “Not until you say it,” I argued. She grabbed my face with both hands, and raised my gaze from her breasts. She kissed me like a dying woman, and I was about to say, to hell with it, and fuck her senseless, when she looked right into my eyes and whispered, “I love you.”

  That did it, I fucked her senseless. Panting, bodies pulsing with the lingering effects of our orgasm, I pulled her from the pool and we made a dash for the house. We warmed up in a hot shower where we once again lost ourselves to lust and when we finally made it to the couch in front of the overcompensating TV, I fell into a deep and easy sleep.

  Rebecca

  Charlie looked younger when he was asleep. His face relaxed, the lines around his eyes were all but gone. He pulled off the goofball persona well, but I knew him better than that now. He laughed, he played, and he could seduce a woman better than Don Juan himself. But he also struggled, he fought with his emotions and he wrestled with anger constantly. The fact that he had found a way to manage it, contain it even, was impressive as hell. He had my respect for that and for his honesty and steadfast devotion, he also had my love. I loved him and I had told him as such. Confessing that love was like lifting a heavy weight from my shoulders. The shit may have hit the proverbial fan in my life right now, but having Charlie and his love made me feel like I just might survive it.

  Glancing around the obnoxiously large home of Braiden and Dillon’s, I felt the pang of regret over not being in my own home. I missed my big, comfy couch that was wedged in a small but warm living room. I missed the bright and vibrant colors that decorated every room, the smell of flowers that would always sit in a vase on the dining table, the small back porch with the slightly uncomfortable wooden chair I sat on to watch the sun set. Once we had the situation with Emily under control, I would face my fears and return home. There was no way in hell was I letting that fucker William Levier keep me from my family home, and now that Charlie was essentially homeless, maybe I would ask him to move in with me. Mind you, having Emily and Charlie living under my matchbox roof would be more than a little cozy. We would figure it out though. Maybe I could borrow money on the equity of my house and have Carter Constructions add a room or two. I never once, in all my years, dreamed of my future playing out the way it was right now, with Charlie Cole no less. God, how I had lusted over this man for so long. Even before our one night of passion over a year ago, I had seen Charlie around town, and spent many carefree hours dreaming up possible scenarios for the two of us. When Charlie came home with me that night, I didn’t fool myself into believing it would be more than one night of unrestrained sex. Like a lovesick fool, I had hoped though. The past year without his smiles, without his touch left me feeling hollow and empty. Now he was mine and he wanted me, he loved me. I pinched myself and looked down at his sexy sleeping form. Nope, not a dream. This was real, my dreams had become my reality. A future with Charlie. Maybe we would get married, maybe we would have children together. My hand fell to my stomach at the thought of Charlie and I as parents to a sweet little girl with blonde curls and blue eyes, or a handsome little boy with light brown hair and Charlie’s subtle dimples. I’d seen Charlie with Eli only once, but he was wonderful with the little boy. He’d be the perfect father who wouldn’t rest until his children were laughing hysterically. I wondered if Charlie even wanted children after his sorrowful family history. It didn’t matter to me if he didn’t. I didn’t want to be anywhere other than by his side.

  The sound of my cell phone ringing broke through my idealistic thoughts and I jumped up and raced for it. It was still sitting in Braiden’s office where I had left it following my earlier te
mper tantrum.

  Unknown flashed across the screen, and with shaky hands, I answered, “This is Rebecca.”

  “Ahhhh, there is my sweetheart.”

  His voice didn’t make me recoil with fear this time. I replied with pure unadulterated anger, “Where is my sister, you sick fuck?” He snickered and it just made me angrier. “You know what?” His laughter died down. “You are nothing but a spoiled little shit with daddy issues. Get over it and let Emily go.” That got his attention.

  “You don’t know shit about my father and if you did, you wouldn’t throw him into this equation so easily. He would search and find every person who ever meant anything to you, then put a bullet in their head without thinking twice. He would leave you for last, just so you could watch him destroy everyone you love.”

  I snorted with unladylike grace. “Yeah, well, from what I hear you should be scared of daddy, too, because apparently your little drug habit doesn’t fly with him, and your financial burdens are nothing but an embarrassment to the Levier name. Perhaps I should call him and let him know what you’ve been up to. Let him know you’re in Claymont and that you have Emily?”

  “So fucking brave,” he growled with unrestrained hostility. “Here I was prepared to make you a deal and you have me second guessing myself. Maybe I should just kill Emily now and be done with it.” I didn’t know how to answer that; I didn’t want to beg, but I didn’t want him to hurt Emily either, so I remained quiet. “So, now that I seem to have your attention, this is a one-time only offer, sweetheart. I know your man Mr. Cole and his security dogs have encouraged you not to proceed with handing me over the deed to your property. I know the Montgomery boys are currently searching Claymont for me, and I can guarantee you they will not find me. Therefore, I am giving you the option to save your sister. I have a lawyer ready and waiting, all you have to do is meet me, sign over the deed to your home, and I leave. I get the money I need out of your property, and you’ll get your precious sister. But you come alone. You ditch Jean Claude and get your fine ass into a car and start driving east on the main highway, out of town. Fifty-five miles outside of town, you’ll see an exit for Mountain Range Road, it shouldn’t take you more than an hour to get there. Pull off on the side of the road, sit there and wait for my next call. What do you say, Ms. Donovan? You brave enough to save your sister or are you as soft as that warm pussy of yours?”

  I glanced out the study doorway. Charlie was still fast asleep on the couch, his truck parked in the driveway. I could do this. I loved my home, but I loved my sister more. If all it took to keep her safe was to give up our house, I could do it without hesitation. “Why would I trust you to not hurt me or Emily?”

  He laughed. “If you have even half a clue as to who I am, then you know I can’t be trusted, but, sweetheart, you don’t have a choice because I will put a bullet in your sister’s head and not think twice about it.”

  “I’m on my way,” I said with more determination than I felt.

  “Remember, sweetheart, you come alone. If I catch wind of anyone else with you, I will kill Emily.”

  I hung up, not wanting to hear another word from that asshole’s mouth about killing my own flesh and blood. I tiptoed out of the office and quickly dressed in warm cargo pants, a t-shirt and hoodie. Opening the bed side drawer, I hesitated as I glanced at the gun sitting in it. So I couldn’t shoot straight, but maybe, if I got close enough I could hit something vital. Reaching in I wrapped my fingers around the weapon and shoved it down the back of my pants like I’d seen Charlie do, and found it incredibly uncomfortable. Instead I chose to stick it in the pocket in the front of my hoodie. Not very hip or gangsta, but as much as I was a creature of style, I was also a creature of comfort. Standing over Charlie, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, I couldn’t bring myself to simply leave him without an explanation. He would freak out and if the situation was reversed, I would go ballistic. When he eventually woke, I had no doubt he would search the house high and low for me. So I scribbled him a quick note letting him know William’s directions and left it on one of the pillows on the bed, hoping he wouldn’t miss it. I wasn’t stupid, I didn’t trust William, and I wasn’t about to put my life completely in his hands.

  Climbing into Charlie’s big truck, I started it up. I held my breath with the ridiculous notion that it would somehow keep the noise down and get me away from the house without waking Charlie up. Idiot. As I drove off down the street, the front door to Dillon and Braiden’s home remained closed.

  Regret, it hit me hard twisting at my heart and insides until I thought I would be sick. Maybe I should have told Charlie, or at the very least have rung Dillon or Braiden. My hand rubbed the hard outline of the gun stuffed in my front pocket and it gave me a modicum of peace. Shaking off the fear and uncertainty I pushed every other thought - other than getting my sister home - out of my mind. I was armed, I was dangerous and I was going to kick some rich-prick ass because I was Rebecca Fucking Donovan, hear me roar!

  Chapter 21

  Charlie

  The slamming of the front door woke me with a start. For a brief moment, I had forgotten where I was, and stared at the unfamiliar surroundings in a daze. My senses returned as Braiden stormed into the living area, an exhausted, pissed off scowl on his face. Yeah, this boy’s cool persona was cracking. He was emotionally involved in this case on a whole other level.

  “Everything okay?” I asked sleepily.

  “No,” Braiden honestly confirmed, flicking on the coffee pot in the state-of-the-art kitchen.

  “You care about her.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Braiden grunted. “I don’t even know her. I care about her situation, it feels personal.”

  I knew he was referring to his extra-curricular activities in the bedroom, but I didn’t really want to open that can of worms. If the dude wanted to get personal about his sex life, he’d have to find another dude to hash it out with. Sure, I had swapped bedtime stories with Jax back in the day, but now it just felt perverted and dirty. A wave of protectiveness washed over me, and I felt compelled know exactly what Braiden’s intentions were where Emily was concerned.

  “If and when we get her back, she doesn’t need another dom taking control of her life.”

  Braiden raised a brow at my announcement. “I don’t know whether to admire your devotion to Rebecca’s kin, or punch you in the face for insulting me,” he admitted.

  I rubbed my face thoughtfully and grinned at him. “You can try to punch me in the face.”

  Braiden smiled, something he rarely did. “I’m not much for Dr. Phil moments, Charlie, so I will say this once and only once: I can’t even begin to understand the horror Emily has endured: being raped, being forced into the BDSM lifestyle, especially at her age. For any woman that sort of degradation would be shattering, for an innocent girl barely seventeen years of age...” Braiden’s eyes flared with anger and he shook his head as if trying to clear the thoughts that were consuming him in that moment. “What I can understand, to a certain extent, is what is involved in a dominant/submissive relationship. Jonas was Emily’s master and he embraces the dominant lifestyle to a whole other level. He would have trained her to behave a certain way. For example, he may have made her kneel at his feet, possibly have her speak only on command. She will be used to a life filled with a strict regime which is common in that lifestyle. When we get her back, she is going to need help separating her life as a captive slave to a free woman. I experimented with a full time dom/sub relationship and decided that life wasn’t for me, but when I did explore it, I learned to read women well, to know what they wanted and needed before they knew themselves. I think I can help Emily and I can do so while understanding the needs she might have that others wouldn’t understand. The need for command, the need for someone to control her; she will most likely be afraid to act without it for fear of reprisal. I have never and would never hurt a woman or give her something she wasn’t ready for. Emily is going to need to be tre
ated with kid gloves for a long time. She will need extensive counseling and family and friends she can rely on and trust implicitly. But she may also need something no one else can provide. I have no plans to become her dom or anything like that, but I will be prepared to listen if she needs to talk about something no one else understands. And unless you have been hiding a deep dark secret about a predilection for restraints, floggers, and butt plugs, I’m assuming you wouldn’t have a clue.”

  I’m pretty sure my eyes were the size of saucers by the time Braiden had finished. Firstly, this was the longest conversation we’d ever had. Second, it was a glimpse into the world of BDSM that he apparently lived and breathed once upon a time.

  I grinned. “Who was the butt plugs for, you or her?”

  Braiden’s lips twitched in an attempt not to smile. “Are you asking because you are intrigued about a little ass play, Charlie?”

  “Not fucking likely, just wondering exactly how kinky that shit got.”

  “You’ll have to keep wondering, I’m done discussing my sex life with you.”

  Speaking of sex life, where the hell was Rebecca?

  “I’m gonna change, I’ve been wearing these clothes for forty-eight hours straight, then I’m going to head back out. Did you put your car in the garage?” I gave Braiden a questioning look and realization hit us at the same time.

  “Rebecca?” I yelled out, jumping from the couch and racing through the house. Braiden was slamming doors behind me as I reached our bedroom. The light was on and the clothes that had been strewn all over the floor in her fit of anger earlier that day were still lying there.

  “Where the fuck would she have gone?” I asked, the urgency in my voice no doubt alerting Braiden to the fact I was moments away from a panic attack.

  “Bed,” Braiden said with a nod. I followed his gaze and saw the paper lying on the pillow.

 

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