by Lily White
Why anybody would want to traipse around the goddamned wilderness to shoot at fucking bighorn sheep is beyond me, but that’s what Bradley Stroud liked to do in his free time, and it set up the perfect scenario for how he died.
Hunting accidents are always so tragic. But they’re also common, so once Bradley’s body is found and the media erupts over the dangers of hunting alone, his company will be no longer, freeing up space for the man who hired me to sweep in and fill the vacancy that is now open.
Yes, it’s a fucked up reason to have to die, but it is what it is. Nobody who climbs the corporate ladder to the top is innocent of having screwed over everybody they stepped on to get there. Every one of them is a sociopath only concerned with money and power.
I just happen to take that from them every once in a while. My conscience is clear.
After stripping off my dress shirt and slacks to pull on a t-shirt and jeans, my phone vibrates over the surface of the dresser, Lincoln’s name flashing on the screen.
I grab the phone and thumb the screen to answer.
“We have a problem.”
The past comes back to slap me in the face, memories of the hundreds of times he’s said that before, mostly about Adeline doing something fucking stupid.
“And that is?”
“Your girl has relapsed, it seems. She’s in Black Orchid now, getting shitfaced.”
My jaw ticks, disbelief flooding me. “She was doing so well-“
“Yeah, she was. But she’s not anymore. You might want to get your ass down here and handle this.”
Why the fuck was Lincoln even there in the first place, and why do I need to do something about it if he’s there already? I ask him those questions, and he gives me his usual grumbling response.
“I was watching your cameras like you asked last night since you were in the middle of nowhere and couldn’t do it your damn self. Adeline had an...episode. And since this is your fucking fault, this is now your fucking problem. I’m not getting involved more than I already am. This is your shit to fix, Ari. You left her like this, you deal with it.”
Already halfway across the living room, I grab my computer from my bag, toss it on a table and key into the cameras I have set up in Adeline’s house.
Tabbing back to the night before, I freeze in place when I see her destroying her room like a woman possessed. Tears drip from her chin, and she rips framed photographs from the wall to throw to the ground before picking up whatever happens to be handy to throw in another direction.
I tap a button to unmute the scene, and it’s my name she’s screaming, her pain evident as she curses and yells, fucking livid that I chose to leave her.
What she doesn’t know is I didn’t make the choice for me. I’ve been miserable keeping my distance from her. But all of this seems so out of character for how well she’s been doing. She finally got a job. She’s being responsible. She’s growing up.
What caused this? I try to zoom in on her face to see if she’s sleeping, but I can’t get a good view. Her head tilts down during most of it, and it’s impossible to see if her eyes are focused or not.
“You still there?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “I’ll be down in fifteen minutes. Keep an eye on her. If she does anything too fucked up, step in and stop her. Otherwise, hang back. I’ll call you when I get there.”
“See you in a few.”
Pursing my lips, I watch the tape for another minute or two. I mean, I’ve always known that Adeline is nuts, but this is so out of character for her. Something must have occurred, but it’s impossible to know what triggered this type of behavior.
Snatching my keys, I leave the penthouse and take the elevator down to the underground garage. Traffic isn’t bad, so I make it to the club in less time than I told Lincoln.
Calling him as I approach the front door, I wait for an answer before heading inside. Once I’m in those doors, the music will be too loud to hear him.
“You here?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll come out to the front. Just wait for me.”
He comes out the door a few seconds later, his expression grim.
“She’s had enough drinks to knock out a horse, and she’s up in one of the cages doing a strip tease. You might want to get your ass in there now before she’s fucking the next guy that goes in after her. I’ve already had to dissuade more than a dozen from approaching.”
My eyes meet his. “How’d you accomplish that?”
He grins. “By standing in the only path that leads to the cage and explaining to them how bones sound when they snap, especially delicate fingers that touch things that don’t belong to them.”
For fuck’s sake.
“All right. Take off. I’ve got her.”
He stabs his finger at my chest.
“Fix this shit, Ari. For good this time. I’m getting sick and tired of babysitting a psychopath. I told you from the beginning to leave her alone, and you chased after her anyway. You created this mess. You clean it the fuck up.”
Brushing his hand off, I ram my shoulder against his as I pass him, pay the door guy, growl at him when he tries to stamp my fucking hand, and then storm into the place ready to rip the heads off of every son of a bitch watching Adeline act like the little monster she is.
Weaving my way through the crowd, I stay to the wall as I turn into the side room, my gaze lifting to a cage in the far back where one certain little psychopath is dancing far too seductively for the fast tempo song.
I’m instantly hard just looking at her, but the need I feel competes with the rage pumping through my veins for the slutty little outfit she’s wearing. It would be enough to cover her if she wasn’t running her hands up her body to drag the tiny little skirt high enough to flash her ass cheek, or lifting her shirt up to flash a tit.
A group of guys stand just beneath the cage looking up, their shoulders bumping as they decide which asshole is going to climb up the steps to approach her.
Whichever makes the move is walking straight to his death because that particular cocktease is mine.
All mine.
Every inch of her that she’s happily showing anybody who will look.
You can tell she’s drunk. Her movements are sloppy and uncoordinated, but she still rolls her hips with the promise of a dirty fuck.
I’m going to kill her.
Or spank her.
Probably fuck her.
After dragging her ass home.
One meathead breaks away from the group after knocking knuckles with his buddies. Moving quickly, I force my way through small groupings of people, flipping off one fuckwit who complains because he spilled his beer.
Not my fucking problem. He should have known I was coming and got the hell out of my way.
Just as Meathead approaches the steps leading up to the cage, I step around him, my size easily topping his. Thankfully, he’s not stupid.
Holding up his hands in defeat as soon as he notices the lethal expression on my face, he backs the fuck off, his gaze lifting one more time to look at Adeline.
I’m up the stairs and in that cage before she has a chance to disrobe entirely, my hand landing on her shoulder to drag her out.
She turns around and lifts those beautiful blue eyes, her dark hair a wild mess, her skin sweaty, her blood red lips all pouty and perfect.
And then she winks.
Fucking winks before grabbing the front of my shirt to pull me down to her.
Hot breath cascades against my cheek, and the scent of alcohol I’m expecting isn’t there.
“It’s about time you show up. I thought I’d have to actually strip to get you into the cage.”
My body goes still and our eyes lock, her mouth twisting into a devious grin as my brows tug together.
“What game are you playing, baby bird?”
Her smile widens. “I’m not a baby bird.”
“You’re in a fucking cage.”
The sound of her laughter seduces
me. My hands wrap over her gyrating hips, my heart hammering beneath my ribs to be so close to her again.
A teasing shrug.
“Just thought you might want to make good on all your threats. Wasn’t it you who said you watch me dance and want to fuck me in front of everybody? Well,” her eyes drop to my mouth and back up again as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, “here’s your chance. Unless, of course, you’re all talk and no action.”
Lincoln is a fucking dead man when I get my hands on him. I’ll miss him. Kind of. And maybe I’ll even pay out of pocket for a nice casket and grave plot.
My hands tighten on her hips, but I don’t answer. I’m still trying to make sense of the fact that Adeline and Lincoln fucking teamworked me again.
Never, and I mean never, are they allowed to have any further contact.
When I don’t move, she shrugs another shoulder, her wicked little hips wiggling against my palms.
“Guess you’re all talk. It’s a shame. I thought you were more man than that. I’ll have to find somebody else who can own me.”
And then she turns to grip her hands over the cage bars and dances to the music like I’m no longer standing there.
Who in the ever loving fuck does she think she is?
My fingers grip the back of her neck as I tug her away from the bars and spin her to face me. Gripping her chin, I lean down to claim her mouth with mine, biting her bottom lip until she squeaks before sucking on her tongue as my hand slips down to grab her ass and lift her up against the bars.
Her legs wrap around my waist as her arms fall over my shoulders, her body tight against mine as cat-calls and shrill whistles erupt from the audience.
Hand sliding up so my palm is against her bare ass, I kiss her like I was meant to own her, one hand fisting her hair as her hips roll against mine, teasing my dick with the promise of what’s under her tiny skirt.
Only when I have to breathe do I pull away from her, my forehead pressing to hers as my hand squeezes her ass.
“I’m taking you home, Adeline. And when we get there, I’ll show you exactly who owns you.”
A wicked grin stretches her lips, blue eyes twinkling as a blush races over her pale skin.
“You should have done that a long time ago. Would have saved us a lot of drama.”
I can’t help but smile because, in the end, she’s right. Had I claimed her when I first had the chance, everything that happened with Grant could have been avoided.
“I’ll be sure never to make that mistake again.”
“You better not.”
Kissing her one more time, I ignore the hoots and hollers sounding around us. Fuck them all. They can watch if they want. Take detailed notes.
When it comes to Adeline and me, the rest of the world is just useless noise.
Everything about her life is mine.
Which is the way it always should have been.
Adeline
“I’m surprised you’re donating all this furniture. It looks brand new. Has this ever been used?”
Standing at the large bay window in my father’s office, I turn to Mitchell Jones, an older gentleman who manages an abused women’s shelter in the city.
He stares back at me with astonishment behind a set of kind blue eyes that I’m sure have been an indirect witness to the wives, girlfriends, daughters and the children who suffered beneath the hands of men like Grant Cabot.
“The furniture in this room has never been used, no. I hope someone will be able to enjoy it.”
He runs a hand through his white hair, his blue bow tie crooked at the collar of his white dress shirt.
“I know a young woman who just bought a new home she’ll share with her two children. They’re moving out of the shelter next week. Both her kids are starting school, so this can be a place for them to do homework.”
Smiling at that, I watch as he jots down notes on his clipboard.
“I think this is the last of it. Are you moving out of the city and that’s why you’re letting all of this go?”
I glance around the room, the image of my father pacing the floors clear in my mind. It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, but then, forgiving ghosts is just as important as forgiving the living.
It’s when you hold on too tight that you become haunted, and I’ve been trapping my parents in this house as much as their deaths trapped me.
“No. I’m just letting go of the past. Moving forward. Fresh start and all that.”
A proud grin. “That’s what I tell the people I help. There’s wisdom and strength in that. Good for you.”
“It took some work,” I admit. “For a while there, it felt like I was losing my mind.”
His expression softens.
“It’s a process, Ms. Kane. None of us have a perfect scorecard. And many of us can fall victim to all the unfortunate circumstances life has to throw at us. You’re standing tall now. That’s what’s important. Hopefully you had some good people around who helped.”
Chuckling at that, I think about who had helped.
Two contract killers, both who worked for my father, one who killed him, both who stalked me, and one that made my life a living hell because he knew me better than I knew myself.
I needed to fight a battle to find my footing. Needed to pick up my own pieces and fit them together again.
Ari, for all his fucked up ways of doing things, had given me the kick in the ass I’d needed to fight that battle.
In doing so, I found the true Adeline. Not the prim and proper version my parents wanted. Not the beaten dog version Grant wanted. Not Poor Little Adeline like the rest of the world saw.
Just me.
With all my idiosyncrasies.
With everything unusual that makes me unique.
A flourish of a pen stroke before, “Well, I think that covers everything. I’ll have a team of movers here tomorrow to pick up the items you’ve donated. Thank you again, Ms. Kane. I’ll show myself out.”
I smile as he leaves the room and then turn back to the window.
It would have been through here that Ari first saw me when I came running after hearing the gunshot. I was supposed to be at a friend’s house that night but hadn’t felt well. Dad didn’t know I was in the house. I was in my room when he’d come home.
How would my life be different if one of them had seen me before the trigger was pulled?
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. For as chaotic as my life became following that night, it all worked out.
A knock at the door draws my attention, and I turn to see Lincoln stepping into the room.
“Hey, kid. I just finished ripping out all of Ari’s cameras, so I’m taking off.”
“Where is Ari?” I ask, annoyed that, again, he’s disappeared.
Lincoln grins and shrugs. “Probably installing cameras in his place. He’s Ari.”
As if that is all the explanation that’s needed.
Sadly, it is.
Cocking his usual brow in question, Lincoln eyes me.
“What are you thinking about, kid? You have that sad puppy look.”
The same question that has been repeating in my head ever since I agreed to move in with a man whose career is less than honorable.
Ari, with the dented and scuffed halo he wears for what he did for me, still has to answer for so much. For the past few weeks, I’ve tried to make peace with it.
I can’t change him.
Nobody can.
And I’m left with learning how to accept him for who he is, just like he accepted me.
“How do you do it, Lincoln? How do you do what you do and sleep well at night? How does Ari? People are dead because of you.”
He blows out a breath as he crosses the room to lean on the edge of the desk.
“We’re not out there killing saints. Every single one of the men we’ve taken out was responsible for the destruction of someone else. We all have our crimes, just some of us hide it better.”
“And that�
��s how you justify it?”
Giving me a look that leaves no room for question, Lincoln crosses his arms over his chest.
“We don’t need justification. Ari doesn’t give a damn, and neither do I. You’ve already been warned of that. We’re not good people. But for whatever reason, you’ve become a soft spot for Ari. The only one I know of. It is -“
“What it is,” I finish for him. “I know.”
Quietly, he says what I’ve already figured out.
“You just need to take him as he is. Who knows? Maybe you’ll rub off on him someday. Most likely not. But there’s a chance.”
Ari is the definition of stubborn. I highly doubt anybody could rub off on him. He’s too set in his ways. Too controlled.
Snapping fingers cause us to turn to the door where Ari stands glaring at us both. Humor dances behind his eyes as he points at me and then Lincoln.
“What have I told you two about talking in places where I can’t keep an eye on you? No teamwork. That shit is done.”
A low grumble sounds from Lincoln’s chest. “And you’ll do what about it, exactly? I’d love to know.”
The two men stare at each other, and it makes me laugh. One day I’ll learn to push Ari’s buttons as easily as Lincoln.
“I’m taking off anyway,” Lincoln says as he pushes away from the desk. “The house is clean, and the realtors can start doing their thing tomorrow.”
I’ve decided to finally sell the house. Some part of me knew to keep it when I married Grant, but now that I’ll be moving in with Ari, I know there’s no reason to hold onto it anymore. I won’t be coming back.
Outside, the sun is beginning to set, the day insanely long while I packed what I wanted to keep and decided what would go. It wasn’t as difficult this time as it had been when I moved in with Grant. Over the course of the last year, I haven’t collected too many personal things.
The instruments were all moved to Ari’s new penthouse, the furniture donated. What’s left is just my clothes and a few odds and ends that will most likely stay in boxes since my style doesn’t quite match the strict lines of black and chrome that make up Ari’s place.
Staying quiet until it’s just Ari and me left in the room, I relax against him when he steps up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist. His scent soothes me, just like it always has.