by Nicky James
Risk Takers
By Nicky James
Risk Takers
Copyright © 2020 by Nicky James
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Artist:
Nicky James
Editing:
Susie Selva
LesCourt Author Services
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the written permission of the author.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Risk Takers
WARNING
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Other Titles by Nicky James
WARNING
This novella is part of the Nicky James “a touch of taboo” collection.
This book contains content of a taboo nature which some people may find objectionable. The main characters are consenting adults, but their actions may be regarded as disturbing or unnatural to some readers.
Proceed with extreme caution.
It should also be noted that this novella is intended as a prequel to Rule Breakers.
Although the content of this particular novella is MM, the full story is an MMM of an extremely taboo nature.
This novella ends with neither a HEA or a HFN, but it will give you the story before the story told in Rule Breakers in as complete a form as is possible.
I hope you enjoy.
Triggers for drug use.
Prologue
Denver
Present Day
“No, I have it right here. Sir, I’m telling you, the numbers don’t match. I’m looking at the chart right now, and there is a notable difference between input and output.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying there is inventory disappearing.”
A low-rumbling groan came through the receiver, and I envisioned Mr. Laudry, my boss, scrubbing his bald head like he did when he was frustrated.
“And how long has this been going on?”
“I can’t say. I’m pulling up charts for the last few months to see if I can track it. I brought it to your attention the second I noticed, sir.”
“I know, I know. I’m not angry with you. It’s the situation.”
I shifted on my creaky leather office chair and cringed when his heavy sigh hit my ear.
“I’m sorry, sir. If I’d—”
“Unless you’re the culprit responsible, stop apologizing.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ringing of my doorbell made me jump, and I jerked my attention from my Excel sheets to the doorway of my office as though I could somehow see beyond it to the front hallway of the house. Who was ringing my doorbell at eight in the morning on a Saturday?
Mr. Laudry was speaking again. Tuning back in, I caught the tail end of his rant—something about dishonesty and integrity, and why can’t his employees be more like me? He didn’t take a breath for me to cut in.
“Send me those findings and write a detailed summary so I know what I’m looking at. Go back in the books a couple of months and see if you can determine when this started.”
The doorbell rang again.
I shifted to the edge of my office chair, clinging to my phone with both hands as Mr. Laudry continued speaking. “I want you to contact Reece and get him to send over the timetables. Go over them and see if there’s anything suspect.”
There was no sense pointing out it wasn’t my job or that it was my weekend off. We both knew I’d do anything he asked. I was a kiss-ass who didn’t know how to tell him no.
“Yes, sir.”
When the bell rang a third time, followed by a pounding fist, I cursed under my breath and made my way to the front door, hoping the impromptu meeting with my boss would be over by the time I got there.
When Mr. Laudry continued berating his no-good employees, I cut him off, knowing it was disrespectful. “I’m sorry, sir. I have to run. I’ll get those charts to you this afternoon and contact Reece.”
“Oh, indeed. Thank you, Denver. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
We hung up as I reached the front hallway. The person on the other side of the door seemed determined to break through the hardwood and enter whether I wished it or not.
When I went to shove my phone into my pocket, I came up short. Eight in the morning on a Saturday also meant I hadn’t dressed or bothered fixing myself up for company. I was in pajama bottoms and an old white T-shirt.
I stole a glance in the hallway mirror and cringed. Thick stubble covered my chin and neck, dark like midnight. It was too bad the mop on the top of my head wasn’t as resistant to silvering. Every day a few more strands of gray joined the others, determined to make me feel every one of my forty-two years.
My impatient visitor called out from the other side of the door as he continued to hammer and kick and fight his way through. “I see you in there, Uncle Denver. Open up. Fuck, what the hell? Why are you just standing there? Come on, man. It’s cold out here.”
My nephew.
Edison.
A wash of apprehension filled my veins and stalled my forward momentum. I hadn’t seen him in over five months, and our last encounter had ended … awkwardly, leaving me with many weeks’ worth of anxiety and second-guessing.
He didn’t relent. He was like his father in a lot of ways. Impatient. Reckless. Persistent. Impulsive, which was why I’d sent him away the last time he’d shown up at my house out of the blue.
I could leave him out there, but a neighbor would notice and call the cops eventually with the racket he was making.
Less concerned about my appearance, I unlocked the deadbolt and swung the door open, letting in a blast of cold winter air that raised goose bumps along my bare arms in record time.
A million questions and statements sat ripe on my tongue, but Edison shoved his way inside before I could voice any of them. “Move. I have to piss. It’s like twenty below out there. My nads crawled inside me, and my bladder’s turned to a prune.”
He shot down the hallway toward the downstairs bathroom, and a second later, I heard the sound of a sharp blast of urine hitting the toilet.
“You could close the bathroom door,” I muttered under my breath as I stumbled toward the kitchen, rubbing some heat back into my arms.
The coffee was old since I’d made it at six when I’d gotten up, so I started a fresh pot. Edison wandered into the kitchen like he lived there and aimed for the food cupboard, rooting around until he found a box of cereal he deemed acceptable. Instead of finding a bowl like a normal person, he opened the box and dug in with his hand, popping Chex into his mouth and crunching them as he leaned back against the counter.
He was the spitting image of my brother Harley when Harley had been twenty years old. Same wild hair the color of wheat. Same intense and mischievous gray eyes. Same devious smile that dared me to tell him to stop eating like an animal and sit at the table.
The coffee machine gurgled behind me as we continued our stare-off. There were so many things I could have said, yet I remained unable to voice a single word.
“Sexy scruff.” His grin was playful and full of innuendo.
“Don’t.”
Edison shrugged. “What? It is. I ain’t gonna lie. Did I wake you?”
“No, I was hav
ing a phone meeting with my boss.”
“On a Saturday? That’s weak.”
It was as though the five-month gap and all the things that had caused it no longer existed. Then again, it was easier to brush things aside when you were younger. Edison had probably dismissed our last encounter like it was no big deal. With age came a firmer sense of morals and ethics and responsibility.
Or, rather, it was supposed to. I was still working on that.
I’d made a hundred excuses for my behaviors over the years. Especially for how I’d acted last time Edison and I had been in the same room together. The past was repeating itself, and I wasn’t a strong enough person to stop it.
Maybe, deep down, I didn’t want to.
Maybe I was filling a hole that had been left behind twenty years ago by someone else.
Who knew? My fucked-up family was a veritable playground of psychological debauchery.
“What are you doing here?” I needed answers.
Edison popped a handful of Chex into his mouth, muffling his reply. “Dad’s being a fucking dick, and Mom’s…” Edison rolled his eyes and let the sentence hang.
Shianne was likely strung out on whatever pills she was currently addicted to, bunked up with a new boyfriend she’d met in a less than savory location, and was unwilling to deal with her bratty child who she deemed old enough to handle life on his own.
In reality, Edison should be able to stand on his own two feet. The issue was, no one had taught him how. Neither of his parents had offered much in the way of a positive role model, but that was what happened when you had an unplanned kid at nineteen.
“What about school?”
He shrugged and chomped down more cereal without answering.
“Did you drop out?”
“No, but the program is boring as shit. They’re making me take some sociology and psychology crap. I don’t know why they’re mandatory. It makes no sense.”
“Because it’s police foundations. You need to know how to manage people and society.”
“Whatever. It sucks.”
Unsure what else to say, I poured a cup of coffee and dressed it with my usual milk and sugar. “You want one?”
“Gross.” Edison made for the fridge and dug through until he found a Coke. He popped the tab and downed it before letting out a loud belch as he crushed the can.
He abandoned the cereal on the counter and tossed the empty Coke can in the garbage before facing off with me. With his hands on his hips, the light in his eyes turned devious and dangerous. “So, Uncle Denver, how’ve you been? Long time no see. Did you miss me?”
“Why are you here, Eddy?” I could read Edison like I’d once been able to do my brother. They were too alike, and his random visit rang alarm bells. Something was up.
“Dad kicked me out. We had a fight. Can I stay here?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why? Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”
My cheeks burned as heat climbed my neck. “Edison—”
He was in my space before I could react. Edison wasn’t a small kid. He was close to my height but lankier. He might have been a young man in theory, but he was still stuck in the body of a teenager. His muscles were more defined than the last time I’d seen him, but he was still scrawny in a lot of ways.
When he invaded my personal space, I had nowhere to escape. My back hit the counter, and I stilled.
“Please, Uncle Denver. Let me stay. You won’t regret it.” He held my gaze, and for a brief moment, it was Harley who looked back at me. They were Harley’s words. You won’t regret it. It was uncanny how alike they could be. “You don’t want me on the street, do you?”
“No, but—”
“What are you afraid of?” His smile said it all. He knew exactly what I was afraid of.
I pulled up some self-confidence, wishing I could grow a backbone for once in my life. “You know this isn’t a good idea.”
Still holding me captive in his stormy gaze, he grinned the wicked grin that had caused me to surrender the first time around. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”
If he only knew what had been going through my head the last time he was here, he might feel differently.
“Look. It can’t happen again.” My protest came out weak and without authority.
Edison didn’t respond. The look on his face was enough to tell me he didn’t believe me. He challenged me like Harley used to.
His alluring gaze dipped to my chin where he examined the thick scruff I hadn’t shaved since Friday morning. His tongue traveled along his upper teeth as his smile revealed dimples in both cheeks. “I really dig the scruff. It’s fucking hot.”
“Don’t.”
“Let me stay.” It wasn’t a question. He knew I’d cave.
“You can have the spare room. For now. I’ll call your dad and see if I can calm him down so you can go home.”
“And what if I don’t want to go home?”
“You can’t stay here.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“Spoilsport.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I kinda wish it wasn’t the crack of dawn so I could make you have a few beers to chill you out. What are you afraid of, Uncle Denver?” Edison leaned closer, the long line of his slender body meeting mine. “I’m a consenting adult. If you want it and I want it, then what’s the problem?”
His words echoed Harley’s, and in a flash, I was twenty-one again, carefree and agreeing to things without thinking about the consequences. My only goal in life back then had been to ensure everyone close to me was happy—whatever the cost.
Whatever the sacrifice.
It had been perfect—until it had all gone wrong.
I cleared my throat. “You can have the spare room. Stay out of mine.” With a gentle hand to his chest, I encouraged him to step back. I couldn’t meet his determined eyes, or I’d cave. All these years later and I still couldn’t stand disappointing anyone. Rules and morals and ethics be damned. I just wanted the people I loved to be happy. “I have work to do. Help yourself to whatever you want just”—I eyed his mess on the counter—“clean up after yourself.”
Before he could protest or further remind me of our last visit, I aimed myself toward my office. It wasn’t until my ass hit the leather chair that I realized I’d forgotten my coffee in the kitchen.
I sat for a long time, rolling everything around in my head. The good, the bad, and the ugly. There was a lot of ugly, which had a nasty habit of disguising itself as good. A person was supposed to learn from their past mistakes, but it seemed I was dead set on repeating them.
I grabbed my phone and called my brother without a second thought. He’d been my best friend growing up. We were opposites in many ways, and I’d always felt it was my responsibility to rein in my wild and crazy brother, to keep him out of trouble. Harley had always felt it was his responsibility to remind me to live a little and have fun with life.
We’d never had secrets from one another, and if Edison hadn’t been conceived, I wasn’t sure where we’d be today. With Edison’s birth came distance—out of necessity. We both knew there was no other way. Edison’s conception had meant it was time to grow up and be adults.
We still talked. We still saw each other plenty, but we maintained an efficient barrier between the past and the present. For twenty years, we’d maintained a respectable—and safe—emotional distance from each other.
But I’d never lied to my brother, and I knew he’d never lied to me. Honesty was necessary, which was why the minute he answered the phone, grumbling about the early hour and what the fuck was my problem, I blurted, “I fucked your son.”
There was a lull, a moment of silence so thick and rich it had substance. It could have gone two ways. Harley would either be irate, or he’d be his usual passive self.
It turned out, I’d woken him up, and he wasn’t processing at a level of alertness I was used to seeing in my high-
strung, hyperactive brother.
“Wait. What? You fucked my son?”
“Yes.” I cringed. “Twice.”
“My son Edison?”
“Do you have another son?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Is this Denver?”
“You know it is.”
“Huh.”
“Is that all you’re going to say?”
There was shuffling on the other end. It could have been bedcovers. Something crashed. Harley cursed, which was disrupted by a yawn. “Did you at least think of me?”
I opened my mouth to respond then snapped it closed again.
Harley chuckled. “What the fuck do you want me to do with that? Is he there?”
“Yeah. Showed up on my doorstep an hour ago.”
“Not a cuddler anymore, huh?”
I frowned. “What?”
“He showed up an hour ago, you fucked him twice, and the first thing you did was call me to confess your sins? Cuddling is important. Some of us like it.”
I snorted and relaxed back in my seat, roughing a hand over my scruffy chin. This was no-fucks-to-give Harley. “No. I mean… It happened last time you kicked him out. In August.”
“Why are you telling me this, Den?” Harley rarely took a serious tone with anything, but that simple question was rich with undertones.
Time for another truth. “He reminds me of you.”
Silence.
“He even fucking looks like you when you were his age.”
The only sound was Harley breathing on the other end of the line.
“Say something, Harley. Yell at me or warn me off or something.”
Still, he didn’t respond.
“Harley?”
“Do you know why we don’t get along? Edison and me?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “We’re too alike.”
“I know.”
“He’s a fucking little shit stirrer like I was at that age.”
“I know.”
“You kept me grounded once upon a time, Den.”
“No, I didn’t. You made me into a wild and reckless fool.”
Harley chuckled. “Nah. I pushed you, and you just never knew how to tell me no.”