by T. L Smith
He shakes his head and moves toward the door. “The others see her as your soft spot because you’ve never had one before. And soft spots are never good to have, Keir.”
“Tell me who,” I demand, smiling.
“I’m not signing their death warrants, I’m not that fucking stupid. But I did want you to know.”
“Keep it to yourself, then,” I growl.
“Fucking hell, Keir, go and see her already.” He walks out, slamming the door as he leaves.
Go see her.
How about no.
Fuck her. Now, that is an option.
Fuck, my cock is hard just thinking about it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sailor
To say this apartment is everything is not a lie. It’s in Manhattan, a place I could never usually afford, yet, here I am, walking around my small but amazing two-bedroom apartment.
When the agent first showed it to me, I thought for sure she was lying about the rent price. Who would willingly give a place like this up? And I know I’m going to have to work out how I can afford to find something else after my year is up. Living here is going to be like no other.
I remember when Dillan and I were looking at apartments, we never even checked out anything this flashy because we knew we could never afford the price tag associated with renting such luxury. The agent said the owner wanted to do something nice for someone, like a pay it forward, but this is more than nice, and I am unsure why someone would do themselves out of so much money. But hey, I am not complaining, I get the privilege of living here, and that’s a gigantic bonus.
When my parents helped me move in with Joey they couldn’t believe what they were seeing either.
The views are spectacular. Every window has floor-to-ceiling views, looking out over the city, and at night the skyline lights up in the most amazing array of colors. The building is well-maintained, security part of the features, which is great because you can’t get into the building without a key card. The place even came with some furniture, which is a bonus, and it’s all high-end beach-inspired and totally unaffordable. The best part is the gigantic television on the wall in the living room—I can’t wait to sit on the sofa, curl up and watch some of my favorite shows.
The apartment has a large open-plan style kitchen, dining, living room area. The apartment is cool, classic, and sophisticated with its Hamptons-style beach vibes. Chic blues, off-whites, and paneled walls complement the timber flooring. The lighting is soft and modern. The kitchen has an island bench, a dishwasher, and all the modern appliances you could ever need.
The bedrooms are off to the side, and each has its own en suite bathroom, which is decorated beautifully. Honestly, I can’t wait to plop down on the gorgeous king-size bed, with its high sides and pillows everywhere.
The only problem I see is I will need to get a second job in order to save as much as possible, so when my time here is up, I can afford to stay on and continue to rent at the high price tag it would normally bring.
Joey helped me to move in, grunting as he went.
I didn’t see Keir, and my parents are thankful for that. They don’t like him at all. I don’t like him either. I think.
I haven’t seen either Keir or Joey for over a week now. After Joey helped me move in, that was it. He doesn’t follow me anymore, and when I go out, he isn’t there, so all good.
No one is around now, it’s just me.
My parents left to keep on traveling, and Ellie moved in with a friend—didn’t even know she had one of those. Took a while to get her out. She insisted when I first moved that she stay with me. I declined.
Grabbing my bag, I pull the strap up and head toward the door. I have two job interviews today, and I’m hoping and praying I get one of them. It isn’t much, but it’s a start in the right direction.
When I pull the door open, Keir’s standing there, fist raised ready to knock. He looks good, dressed as usual in his suit and a face of stone to match.
Everything is business to this man. Typical.
“Keir.” I say his name with a soft smile, not wanting to be rude. I shouldn’t be seeing him, he’s got his money, and that should be the last of our interactions.
“You going out?”
“Interview, actually. Just leaving now so I’m not late,” I tell him, adjusting my bag strap a little higher on my shoulder.
“Interview? What for? You already have a job.”
Stepping past him, I shut the door and make sure to lock it. “It’s only me now, and I like it here, so I would like to be able to afford to stay after the year is up.”
“Oh, yes, Joey mentioned your agreement.”
I turn back to him. It feels like the first real conversation I’ve had with him. The others all felt demanding—him demanding and me pushing back most of the time.
“Yeah, so I’m going to get another job. Hopefully, then I can have enough saved to be able to live here for another year.”
He steps to the side so I can move, and I head to the elevator. When the door opens, he gets in with me, then I push the lobby button.
“Why are you here?” I don’t look at him as I ask. I’ve discovered I am terrible around him—he, without a doubt, can make my legs spread without me taking one drink.
“I’m having a party for Joey, and he asked that I invite you. It’s in a month’s time.”
Oh, wow.
“I didn’t realize he liked me,” I state, confused. Usually, he grunts or nods at my words and then walks out. I don’t think he’s ever said a full sentence to me.
“Joey is … complicated.”
“Must run in the family.” I smirk as we get out of the elevator.
He chuckles next to me. “Yes, it does.” I pull my jacket tighter as we step outside, it’s crisp and the last thing I need is to get sick. “But you didn’t answer.”
His car is parked at the curb and so I stop and ask, “Do you really want me there? I mean, we’re done, right? I paid you back. I don’t owe you anything?” I clarify.
“Correct.” His nod is clipped, and his lips are thinned when he answers.
“So, why are you asking?” I stare at him.
Keir does not like people, that much has been obvious since I met him.
Well, since he kidnapped me.
Or whatever.
“Joey asked.”
I shake my head at his words.
“If that’s the best you can give me.” I turn and start walking away having had enough of this conversation or lack thereof.
“I want you there. It’s better when you’re there,” he says gruffly, making my heels stop on the pavement. I turn back to look at him, my hair whipping me in the face from the cool breeze as I smile.
“You killed my husband, Keir.” My smile drops. “He’s been dead less than two weeks. Stay away from me.”
Then my feet manage to move.
I manage to move away from him.
How, I don’t know.
I got both jobs.
Both!
Holy shit.
One is during the day at a bookstore. Which means I can keep my clients and work with them when the shop isn’t busy. The other is serving drinks at night at a small bar. It works, and so far, I’m enjoying them both. Even if I am tired every day, I still get one day off a week. And I love those days. I do fuck all but lie around in my apartment doing nothing but watching that gigantic television and eating whatever I want.
I love it.
I went through the box last week—I kept a few things of Dillan’s. I loved him. I’m not going to lie. I tried hard to save our marriage, where he was destined or maybe even determined to destroy it. I’ve cried a lot over the last month purely because of him. Wondering if I could have done something different, or perhaps I could have been different for him. But I think, no matter what, that’s how we were destined. We were not fated to be together, and try as I might, he was never going to change his ways.
Last week, I got t
he official invite to Joey’s birthday. It stares at me on the fridge every day when I get home from work.
I haven’t seen either of them for a month.
I needed that time.
Separation has been good for me to see and put things into perspective.
Keir came in and tipped my life upside down.
I’m not going to lie and say all of it was bad, because not all of it was. I enjoyed him, but I also hated him most of the time.
Ellie has been coming around more than I want her too. She has a boyfriend but still wears my engagement ring. I don’t even ask anymore because, quite frankly, I don’t give two shits about her or anything to do with what she’s doing. But I try to be nice because it’s not in my nature to be any other way with her. It’s not her fault Dillan was a complete asshole.
“Why are you dressed up?” I ask Ellie as she walks to my fridge. She looks great, not that she doesn’t usually.
How weird is it that the person I speak to the most is the person who took my husband? This shit can only happen to me.
“We’re going out tonight, remember?”
“No, we are not.” I turn away from her and switch on the television I am addicted to.
“We are. For Joey’s birthday. He asked me if you were coming, and I said yes. Don’t upset the birthday boy.”
“They shot Dillan. Killed him right in front of us. And you want to go? Why?” I raise a brow at her. “You want to go hang with the mafia?” I look back at the television and laugh at the Friend’s scene when they are trying to carry the sofa up the stairs and Ross is screaming, “pivot, pivot.” That scene gets me every single time.
“Well, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound that great, I agree. But you know they aren’t that bad. And we know Dillan did them dirty. Maybe he got what he deserved.”
“A bullet in the damn head? Really?”
“The police never arrested them,” she says.
“That’s because half the police force is smart enough not to fuck with the mafia, and the other half are in their pockets,” I state. “Yet here you are requesting we go see them.”
“It’s just a party. Joey did you good. Helped you move. You should come wish him a happy birthday.”
“How about, no.”
She sighs and shakes her head, then pulls out a bottle of champagne from my fridge.
“Can I take this then?”
I wave my hand, indicating she can do what she wants.
“Thanks, babycakes. I’ll send my best wishes for you and say you’re sick.” Her heels click-clack as she walks to the door. “Toodles.”
Standing once she leaves, I lock the door before proceeding to fall into my bed and sleep.
There’s banging.
Something is banging.
Loud and obnoxiously.
Moaning, I get out of bed. Checking my phone, it’s two in the morning. Who the fuck is banging on my door this late, or is it early? The banging doesn’t stop even when I manage to reach the door.
“Who is it?”
“Where were you?” Keir’s voice is rough, angry, so I don’t open the door.
“Keir?” I ask, slightly confused, but know without a doubt that’s his voice I am just confused as to why he’s here, so I ask, “It’s two in the morning. Why are you here?”
“Open the door.”
“No. Go home. I need sleep.” Tiredness is something I’ve become best friends with. I guess that’s what happens when you work multiple jobs and have no life outside of that. You just work and repeat, work and repeat. I start to shuffle away because lifting my feet is too damn difficult right now and head back to bed, but he bangs on my door again.
“I’ll bang all night. How do you think your neighbors will like that? Might complain to the superintendent. He might kick you out,” he says, his tone sharp and pointed.
Fucking asshole.
Heading back, I pull the door open, I see him standing there with a hand braced on either side of the door frame.
“How dare you,” I seethe. “Just fuck off, would you?”
He does this thing where his jaw works from side to side and it’s almost captivating watching it. Like a spell he’s casting to draw me in, so I shake my head.
“Joey is waiting for you.”
“Clearly, I was asleep.”
“And now you’re awake,” he points out. “The party has only just started. Get dressed.”
“No.” I cross my arms over my chest.
Keir steps through the door and shuts it behind him, taking up all my space. This place is large but with him here it feels like a broom closet. Then his smell hits me, and I can tell he’s had a few drinks but not enough to mess with his vision. I could never imagine him not being in full control.
His strong musky smell is all over him.
I really love the way he smells.
Oh, goddammit!
I take a step away from him, and he smirks as if he knows what’s going through my mind.
“You should leave … now,” I say again.
“You should get dressed … now. I mean, you can wear that, but I would suggest otherwise.” His eyes roam my body—I’m wearing a baggy t-shirt and nothing else.
“I am not going,” I reiterate.
Keir’s eyes fall to my legs, and when I follow his gaze, I notice my shirt has risen up, and if I move just a fraction, he will see my pussy. Uncrossing my arms, I pull the shirt back down, but the smirk remains on his face when I look back at him.
“Like I said, I’ll wait.”
“It’s two in the morning,” I argue back.
“It’s midnight, actually. Now, get dressed.” I peer at my microwave to see the time and cringe when I see it is actually twelve, which means I’ve only been asleep for two hours. I need more than that, much more.
“You aren’t going to leave until I agree, are you?”
“Nope.”
“What could I do to get you to leave?” I ask. “Pay you?”
Keir shakes his head, then he eyes my body again. “I could fuck you, or you could suck my cock.”
Yeah, not happening, I’d rather get dressed.
When I turn to head back to my room to get changed, I hear him chuckle.
Again, one giant asshole.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Keir
She walks out of her room wearing a white dress that cuts off just below her knees but has a slit up the side. She’s wearing white heels and carries a small white purse to match. Her face is bare from makeup and her eyes are filled with fire.
I love it.
I have given her time, to grieve or whatever the fuck she needed to do for that loser of a husband she had. Now, she needs to come out to play.
I’ve missed her.
And I don’t miss anyone.
Not even my dead father.
“Are you ready?”
She rolls her eyes as she meets me at the door. “Do I have a damn choice?”
“I gave you a choice,” I point out.
“Yes, and what fabulous options they were.”
“You never seemed to mind when I was buried deep in your cunt.”
“I must have been drunk,” she spits back.
I walk out the door, and she locks it as I wait for the elevator.
“I’m positive you were not.”
“If you say so.”
We enter the elevator and Sailor sighs heavily. I know I am demanding, but I am not taking no for an answer. I want her there with me. As we stand there all I can smell is flowers and sunshine.
“Your friend is hitting on Joey,” I tell her.
She eyes me as we get out and walk to my car. I hold the door open for her and she gets in then I follow in behind her. My driver takes off, and she makes sure not to face her legs or body my way, actually she inclines away from me.
“Ellie?” she asks, not looking at me.
“Yes, seems she has a crush on him.”
“I think s
he likes anyone when she’s drunk.”
“Maybe we should get you drunk,” I say.
“No. I’ll hate you even more. And that’s saying a lot because I detest you right now.”
The car slows as we arrive at the club. I hired the whole place out for Joey. Though, it didn’t take much since I work with the owner by giving him protection. He practically threw the keys at me.
“A club?” she squeaks as she looks out the window.
“Did you not read the invite?”
“No,” she admits, then looks at me. “I never planned to come because I didn’t want to see you. Yet, here we fucking are.”
“Here we are.” I smile at her, which makes her lip twitch with frustration before she opens her own car door and rushes out. She walks to the front of the club, and the bouncer stands there barring her way.
“Private function,” he mumbles.
She turns back to me as I walk up. “Guess I can’t get in. I can find my own way home.”
“Sir.” The bouncer nods to me.
“She’s in.”
The bouncer holds open the door for both of us. I offer her my hand, but she refuses and shakes me off then stomps past me into the club. My eyes track her and I watch in amazement at her gorgeous ass swinging as she walks. Her hair is tied up in some sort of messy bun thing, but it shows off her slender neck. The very same neck I want to bite and mark. The white dress clinging so perfectly to her subtle curves and fine, fine ass. I want to demand she take my hand, but I know she'll refuse. It’s one of the reasons I’m attracted to her, one of the reasons she’s been on my mind every fucking day for the last month. I’m not afraid to admit I’ve stalked her, watched her walk home from some stupid job that she doesn’t even need. Her rent is paid by me, and if she knew that, I’m pretty sure she’d try to cut off my cock. No, not pretty sure, I am one hundred percent sure my appendage would be removed quick and clean.
I’ve never taken an interest in any woman like I have Sailor. And if I have taken an interest in a woman, it’s usually cured after I fuck her once. I’ve fucked Sailor more than once, yet she’s still holding my interest.