Crown and Anchor Series: Book 1-4

by Kerri Ann

  “For Dad,” Doll says to me as I stew inside. She’s trying to give me a reason to avoid the pressure building within, but Mother makes it hard.

  Thinking about his wishes and the predicament that I’m being thrust in, I lay my napkin to the side and rise from the chair. “I’m no longer hungry. Excuse me.”

  Walking to the bar, I get the bartender’s attention. “Bourbon, neat.” He pours only a finger size amount of the amber, which in no way will be enough. I motion to the bottle. “How about you just leave that here,” I tell him, downing the glass before pouring another. It goes down smoothly, and the second just as neat. As does the third, and the fourth. Before long, Mother has finished her meal and exits without a second glance at me. Doll has left with her as beckoned, and Whiskey has ventured off in search of someone to fuck.

  Today was nice, up until now. Dad was honored in a way fitting for him, but now, Mother has dealt the killing blow to my soul, and I’m drowning in liquid courage. Pulling out my phone, I can only think of one person I’d like to be around right now. Texting Circe, I give her my room number at the hotel and ask that she meet me there. There’s no way I can pass through another night alone. I need more than whiskey. The alcohol isn’t going to be enough to dull my senses and remove the plight on my heart.

  I’ll need her.

  CIRCE

  “I hope you brought bandages in that clutch of yours. Your man is going to need them to staunch his wounds,” Carli says dryly. After the text from Wyatt half an hour ago, I suspected that his family dinner went as expected; full of bickering and evil machinations.

  “No, but I have a medic on retainer. Just in case.”

  Today was a beautiful day for a funeral, but also the day that Wyatt’s life changed forever. I’m not sure he can handle it all.

  “Oh, we’re getting quicker,” Carli quips as she picks an eel sashimi off the plate. Dipping it in her heavily green wasabi mixed soy sauce and dripping it across the plate, she slams the whole thing in her mouth.

  Arriving late, placing my napkin across my lap, I smile. “Thanks for ordering ahead.”

  “No problem. Now eat, while it’s still amazing.” Watching her put even more wasabi on the next piece, I’m utterly surprised.

  “I don’t know how you do that, Carli. That’s a lot of wasabi.”

  She chews the morsel, takes a quick sip of her Saki, then turns to me with a smirk. “It’s a cultural talent. Besides, we all need a bit of spice to keep us alive, don’t we?”

  “Speaking of spice, I saw Whiskey was with the Governor on the track. How was that?” Hitting the nail on the head, Carli almost chokes on the mouthful of firewater as she thinks about her answer.

  “He was opinionated, crass, and an utter jack off.” Right. That’s hard to believe. Jamieson may be quick and to the point, at least from what I’ve seen in interviews, but no one’s ever a prick to Carli. Quickly taking another roll off the plate, Carli dips it, avoiding eye contact, as if speaking will put her in a massive lie. Like this one wasn’t easy to catch.

  Meticulously taking note of how often she’s been checking her phone since I sat down, it’s been thirteen times in twenty minutes. Yes, she’s always hooking up with random guys, and yes, Whiskey might live far away, but he’s beautiful and available today. Those kinds of guys are her man candy—the tough, sports-minded, big, gruff grunting conversationalists.

  “Hey, Stardust. You left me. Stop musing about your sexy racer. I’m here and we’re having sushi.” Carli flicks an ice cube at me from across the table, narrowly missing sending it down the center of my dress. Picking it up, I flick it back.

  “Sorry, I’m Debbie-downer. I can’t help it much with the crap going on. I’m worried about Wyatt.”

  “Look, I get it. Like, really get it. But, you can’t fix it.” Grabbing up the Saki bottle, she lifts it airborne, waving it for the waiter’s attention. Appearing out of nowhere, snagging it and flowing off into the open restaurant to refill it, she continues. “I love this place. Thanks for suggesting it.” Tossing me her sweeter than sweet smile, she continues. “Look, doll. Casper, his mom, and his brother James—”

  “James?” I point out with a smirk.

  She ignores me, levelling a glare with a raised brow. “Yes, James. Each of them will figure out their place in the new world without Jax. It’ll happen slowly. There will be temper tantrums, fits of crying, broken bones, and probably the odd silent moments as their souls come to grip with the loss. You, my lovely friend, can only watch from the sidelines, like a football coach.”

  I laugh out loud. “Really?”

  “What? Yes, of course. They will figure it out. Just like a football team, they’re given directions, but it all comes down to how they feel the play needs to be made in the moment. They’re going to make a Hail Mary pass at some point, Circe, and you’ll just have to watch it unfold.”

  Reappearing with the warmed jug, the waiter tops Carli’s petite cup. Carli thanks him, then tips it up after her lovely Confucius fortune cookie diatribe. As fast as the Saki went in, her mouth hits the floor. Cussing like a trucker in what I assume is Japanese, the man profusely apologizes, bowing over and over while she admonishes him. Another man, whom I assume is the manager, attends the moment before he too bows profusely towards her. They both walk off quickly, looking reprimanded as I sit wide-eyed and immensely confused.

  “What the fuck was that, Car?” I sit back in awe, waiting for her response.

  “That was respect. I’ll explain it some other time. Needless to say, the Saki was shit and they apologized. Now, back to our convo.” She sips the water at the table, picks up another piece of sushi, and continues to ignore the massive elephant in the room.

  “That was insightful.”

  “Thanks. I’m all about the properly timed and very necessary input.” Frowning, Carli reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers. “Look, sweetie, this is going to be a long road. I’m going to be here…well, figuratively. I’ll be on the campaign trail, but you get the gist. I’m your go-to. Call, email, fax, Facetime or carrier pigeon—I’m your sounding board, okay?” Carli has a way of making me feel better so easily. It’s insane how much I miss having her around.

  “Truly, I appreciate it, Carli. I worry about Wyatt for sure, but Doll? She’s stuck in that house. At some point, something is going to crack. She’s gonna snap like a busted rubber band.” Dipping my hand-rolled egg sashimi in the soy sauce, after adding a bit of wasabi, I take it in my mouth.

  “Well, she’ll just have to keep busy. You said her birthday is coming up, right? I’m sure she’ll pull a quick exit left.” Carli understands Doll’s predicament, and for some reason, I think she not only sympathizes, but has endured it herself. I don’t know much about her past, as she hardly talks about it, but I know that abuse is not new to her. People who hide behind sarcasm and wit are normally blocking out the pain from previous damage.

  As a phone ping rings out, I can almost place bets on the source being Jamieson. Wiping her hands on the table napkin, Carli reaches into her purse hanging on the back of her chair and stares at the screen. Smiling, I watch as her grin changes from soft, to a sneaky, devious, and downright dangerous beam before texting back an answer.

  Once she’s finished, she drops it back in her purse. “What?” she asks indignantly, trying to act innocent and perturbed.

  “Nothing. Not a thing…nada.” I try to pull off the innocent and shocked look as I pick up another piece of deliciousness. “I’m just here eating my sushi, enjoying a warm night on the patio with my good friend, Carli. Said friend, that isn’t about to ditch me mid-dinner, right?”

  “Well,” she starts, drawing out the words. “Actually, that was my boss. He wants me to meet him to go over the tour schedule for the upcoming week.”

  I knew it! I knew she’d ditch me. Assuming that I’d at least get a chance to finish our dinner before she hopped off for a dick and a smile, I laugh.

  “I understand, Car. Duty
before beauty. Can we at least finish dinner before you eighty-six me?” She smiles, laughs, and places her napkin back in her lap.

  “Oh, of course you always come first, girl. Now, I have about twenty more minutes before my pumpkin changes back.” Knowing it wasn’t her boss, Governor Rock, as I overheard he’s at a dinner with constituents, I know it’s James she’s meeting, but I’ll play along.

  “Speaking of pumpkins, Cinderella. Nice heels, chica.” Carli turns her foot back and forth, showcasing her beautiful shoes. Yep, I’m jealous.

  “Thanks. I got a free minute and shopped.” Carli reaches into her purse, pulls out her wallet and flashes a black Amex. “It’s amazing what you can do with one of these shiny credit cards.”

  “Since when do you have a black card?” Last time I held one of those I was turning sixteen, and my mother allowed me to shop for a new wardrobe.

  “The Governor. He was gracious about the way I handled the whole King thing, and made him look like a goddamn genius, so it was, “Carabell—”

  “He calls you—”

  “Yes, now listen. “Please, this is on me. Go have fun.” Later, I’ll feel bad that I spent five thousand smackers, but he’ll make me work for it with long hours. There’ll be lots of baby kissing and shaking hand moments.”

  “Carabell. Wow, that’s a new one. Where’d he think up that one?” I laugh as I grab up my swirling pink slush drink. It’s a hot night here in Indy, and I wasn’t up for warmed Saki. This may not be the perfect pairing for the meal, but who gives a shit.

  Acting aloof, hiding in her water glass, I have a pretty good idea where the nickname came from. Pulling the glass away, she looks at me, guiltily.

  “Not sure. Really, it just came up.”

  “So, back to girlfriend talk. How’s the guy front? Anything new? Anyone rocking your world?” I know Carli well enough that she can’t handle a second without spilling on her exploits.

  “Ah. No, nothing special at the moment. I’m kind of between the sheets alone.” Placing her napkin on the plate, she turns away from me. “So, when are you meeting with Wyatt?”

  “I guess around the same time you’re exiting. Wyatt will be free shortly, I suspect.”

  “Well. So…uh, I need to use the loo. See you in a minute, K?”

  Sauntering off, swinging her hips, attracting most of the restaurant patron’s eyes, Carli dips inside as my phone pings. Looking, it’s an email from work. Not what I was hoping for. Checking texts, I find nothing from him, so I decide to send him one myself.

  I’ll be out of here in a minute. Need anything?

  No answer. Five minutes’ pass before I try again.

  Everything okay?

  A few minutes later, Carli returns, but still no answer. I’m a bit worried.

  Once we pay the bill, Carli grabs her bag as I rise beside her. “We really need to do this more, Carli. I miss you badly, love.”

  Reaching forward, I pull her into a wonderful hug and kiss her cheek. “You know, life is so crazy, eh? Here you are with a sexy as all hell bike god, and I’m—”

  “Going to have a nice night with Jamieson.” Winking, I hug her again.

  “See you soon, yeah.”

  “See you soon. Have fun.”

  “Always do.”

  Watching her start off down the street to her car, I decide to walk, seeing the restaurant isn’t far from his hotel. It’s such a nice night, and I need a bit of time to clear my head after a tiring day.

  Garnering a key from the front desk, taking the elevator to the top level where his room is, I slip in the key and enter.

  “Wyatt?” There’s no noise at all. Noticing that the balcony doors in the living area are open to the fresh night air, I search out the expansive rooms. “Wyatt, are you outside?” Again, I’m greeted with silence.

  Finding the doors to the bedroom slightly open, I step up to them. Swinging them wide, hoping to find him asleep on the bed, I see what I was hoping would be there. Sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, Wyatt seems ethereal; a wraith of beauty and sadness. I feel terrible for yelling out his name, and possibly interrupting his internal musings. Wyatt is a complicated and heartfelt soul, and his illness makes days like today hard to deal with, he’s told me. It makes me afraid for him. He can’t handle these things like everyone else. Being bipolar is a heavy burden to bear, and it takes a lot to hide it in public.

  “Wyatt?” Kicking off my shoes, I step into the space and pad across the plush fluffy rug. Bending low in front of him, resting back on my heels, I place my hands on either side of him on the soft bed.

  “Wyatt, I’m here,” I say, without receiving a response. His eyes are trained low and on the ground. He doesn’t see me because I’m not here right now. At least, I’m not in the world he inhabits at the moment. With the smell of the liquid he’s drank to deal with tonight, I bet it’s the only thing holding him together. I don’t know how to deal with this side of him, but I’m learning. He needs time to articulate his internal war. He wants to be normal and controlled, and wants to be able to deal with daily struggles.

  “Wyatt, look at me, please,” I ask, waiting for him to move.

  Slowly raising his head, he looks up. He looks horrible. His beautiful eyes are bloodshot and stormy, like a hurricane. His face is tear-stained and flushed. His lips are swollen from gnawing on them, like his demons are in control. It’s all in his eyes. They dart around the room, as if he expects monsters to creep out from behind blinds or doorways. He’s falling apart in front of me.

  “She’s only worried about me and Crown Industries.” He bangs his chest so hard, I can feel it reverberate through the mattress. I feel his pain as it radiates off him in heavy swells. “He’s only been in the bricks for a few fucking hours.”

  “Tell me what you need, Wyatt.” Looking him directly in the eyes, I plead. This relationship, if that’s what it can be explained as, is fresh, and I’m not totally sure what he’ll require. He’d mentioned that when he has an episode that rocks hard, he hits the track, drinks, or loses himself in sex for hours. He’s had the booze. The track is close, but not available, so sex it is.

  Trailing my fingers through his platinum hair, I stroke it away from his face. I want to see the man beneath, the man that has captured my soul. Rocking forward on my knees, I kiss the top of his head, then his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, then his mouth. At first, he doesn’t accept the touch. He shies away, as if he doesn’t deserve the compassion, but I keep going.

  “I’m here,” I tell him, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, Wyatt.” Kissing him again, I wait until he reciprocates. When he finally gives in, it’s desperate and needy.

  Throwing his whole being into his soul-searing, passionate taking of my body, I melt inside. Grasping my hair, he pulls me into him and nips my lips playfully. Our teeth click and our tongues wrestle together. It’s sloppy as we fall into each other, but it’s luscious and luxurious. I’m half-standing, half-kneeling. It’s uncomfortable to hold, but it doesn’t matter, as long as Wyatt comes out of the darkness he’s clouded in.

  When we’re together, touching, I can feel everything in his body as it relaxes. Contact is a necessity.

  Pulling me up into his embrace, his hands come around my waist until I’m lifted and laid across his chest. His hands venture to my chest. Pushing the top of the dress lower, he exposes my lace strapless bra to the cool night air. Sucking in a breath, hitching at the feel of it, Wyatt takes it as an invitation to turn me over.

  “Don’t make me wait tonight. Please, Wyatt.” I pant out the words, breathless for him to take what he needs; what I want.

  “I don’t intend to, Siren. I’ve waited all day to remove this dress and fuck you.” His gorgeous dimples pull in deeply as his smile widens, showcasing his perfectly straight teeth.

  Undoing the clasp at the back of my bra and flinging it over to the chair, he pushes the dress down lower and lower until I’m controlled by it. Palming my body, skimming the edge of my
silk panties, he’ll find I’m wet and ready for him. This is all I’ve thought about. This is what I’ve needed more than I’ve voiced. I need him to tear me down.

  “Circe,” Wyatt whispers, nipping my ear.

  “Yes?”

  “Stop thinking and help me get you out of this dress before I rip it off.” Wiggling my hips, I laugh as Wyatt moves off me just enough. Lying naked in soaked, silk pink panties and nothing else, his gaze makes me feel dangerously warm. Moving to cover my scars, he peels my hands away with a tsk.

  “Never cover yourself with me. There’s nothing more beautiful than your scars.” Kissing my nose, he smiles that wicked grin, telling me I’m in for a night of screaming. “My own personal morphine,” he says. I know how he feels.

  “There’s something about a sharp dressed man.” I peel away each button one by one. “But a naked one is better.” His dangerous body is so addictive, I crave it.

  Carefully pulling the shirt open, then slipping each of his black cufflinks off, I set them on the side table. When I move back and look into his eyes, I find they no longer look clouded; they look hungry. Pulling on the slick black Windsor knot until it slides down far enough that I can pull it through the collar and over his head, I lay it against my bare chest. Lifting it, Wyatt smirks, teasing it against my skin as it pebbles in anticipation.

  “Love, that’s sexy as hell,” Wyatt growls, lifting the tie from my chest before allowing it to flop back. “If I’d known I liked a woman with a tie, I would have bought you one,” he says as he pinches my nipple. In a serious tone, a devilish smile lights up his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.” And I do. I trust him implicitly. Sure, we barely know each other, but I know in my heart he’d do me no harm.

  “Let’s have some fun then, shall we?” Turning the tie into a slight knot, I have a feeling I know where this is going. Tightening the tie around my eyes, laying it lightly but securely, I feel his weight leave the bed. I’m left wet, waiting, and anticipating the next move as he shuffles around the room. Drawers open and close before he returns.