MY MOUTH FELT FURRY AND dry when I woke up the next morning.
There was a dull, persistent pain that had wrapped itself tightly around my head, like a turban. I wondered if I was experiencing my first hangover. My eyes fluttered against the rays of sunlight pouring through the naked windows of Bane’s houseboat. Reality came in like a flickering light. On, off. On, off.
Shadow was dead. We’d buried him yesterday. Then we’d driven back to Bane’s place—“Where is your Harley?” “Don’t worry about it, Snowflake”— and I’d told him everything was dead, which was an On the Road reference that he picked up immediately, because Roman Protsenko was both well-spoken and well-read. Probably the most well-read man I knew, save for my father. Roman told me it was time for a beer and a joint, and one beer turned into three. I hardly ever drank alcohol before The Incident, and definitely not after, so it had hit me hard.
Now I was no longer drunk. I was sober and heavy with sorrow. I stirred in his bed that smelled like his cinnamon breath and heady skin.
I flung my arm over Roman’s shoulder. It was hard as stone, and I loved how he felt like he’d been carved from the most resilient material in the world. The tough to my fragile. The sturdy to my frail. He groaned, and I peered at the clock beside him. It was eight o’clock. He’d skipped on his surfing session, no doubt for me, and I had a shift I was already kind of late to.
“You think my boss will be mad if I’m late for work?” I hugged his midsection, trailing kisses up from his shoulder to his jaw. His skin was warm. Downy, almost. I’d been such a sour thing yesterday. Yes, I’d had my reasons, but I hadn’t even acknowledged how amazing Roman had been. He whirled around and grabbed me by the waist, slamming me into his morning wood.
“Depending on what your excuse is. He seems like a reasonable dude.”
Yesterday, he’d said he had spoken to Kacey and Ryan, and they were going to land in San Diego this evening. I wanted to be there when they arrived, but dreaded to guess what method Roman had used to make them drop everything and jump on the first flight home.
“The excuse is me sleeping with said boss.” I quirked an eyebrow. He smiled and brushed my hair out of my face.
“Hope that fucker gets slapped with a sexual harassment lawsuit by evening. How are we feeling this morning?”
“Torn.” I kissed his lips. “Whole.” I kissed his forehead. “Mostly, I’m just grateful to have someone to lean on.”
I dragged my lips down to his neck, whispering, “I love you, Roman ‘Bane’ Protsenko. Not because you take away my loneliness, but because you give me strength.”
I didn’t wait for him to say it back. I kissed a wet path down his torso, flipping his blanket out of the way, and stopped when the metal of his cock ring touched my lips. I smiled up at him. His face was blank, hard, and unimpressed. I was momentarily confused, but not enough to pull away.
“We need to talk.” He scrubbed his face with his big palms, looking pained.
I popped his shaft into my mouth and gave it a hungry suck. His head fell to his pillow, his forearm hitting his eyes. “Fuuuuck.”
I licked him like a lollipop for a few minutes before he grabbed onto my hair and angled my head up to meet my gaze.
“If you want to suck me off, you’ll need to do it my way.”
I nodded silently.
“My way is not the kind of way you read in your books.” He lowered his voice and chin, searching my eyes for signs of distress. There weren’t any.
“You haven’t read my books.” I arched an eyebrow. “Don’t make false assumptions.”
He smirked like the cocky bastard that he was, grabbing my head, angling it back to his cock. “Your safe word is antiestablishment.”
“I’ll never be able to say that word around your cock.” My eyes widened.
His smirked broadened. “Good.”
He pushed the back of my head, his shaft smashing into the back of my throat at once, and I wrapped my lips around it, sucking as hard as I could while controlling my gag reflex. I was hungry for it, and that confused me. I’d never wanted to do that to anyone else.
Slowly, he began to thrust into me with his pelvis, fucking my mouth rather than allowing me to set the tone. His strokes became faster, deeper, and more frantic, and I felt him growing in my mouth, his hand fisting my hair tighter.
“Shit. Your mouth is like a fist.” His voice was husky with sleep and sex.
Two minutes later, I felt him jerk and twitch inside my mouth. He lifted my head up, his eyes dreamingly heavy-lidded. “Yes or no?”
I didn’t need him to spell it out for me.
“Yeah.”
I wrapped my lips around him again and felt as his cum shot into my throat in small, hot spurts. It was salty and thick, and made every single part of me tingle.
After he finished, he dragged me to his living room, stark naked, and positioned me on the edge of his tattered couch. He threw my legs open and put his mouth on my already-dripping sex, my need for him running down my inner thighs. He began by licking my inner thighs, biting on them softly with a dazed smile. I tousled his hair in my fist, loving how soft and silky it felt under my fingertips. I gasped when he sucked both my lips into his mouth with force, pumping them in and out while casually sweeping his tongue along my slit. I stared down at his sunshine mane, my mouth puffy and the feel of his cock still lingering on my tongue, wondering if he realized he hadn’t said it back to me. I love you. Maybe he didn’t share the sentiment. That was okay, too. Soul-crushing, but okay, I guess.
With loose, broad strokes, he flicked his tongue around my clit, making me squirm until I had to hold his hair and push him away because it got to be too much. He laughed into my core, my legs wrapped fully around his neck, knotted together by the ankles.
“Why the couch?” I nearly stuttered from pleasure.
“Better position for oral. Lie back and let me eat you.”
“You’re making me crazy.” I writhed, my butt sliding down his couch as I thrust myself toward his mouth. I loved that I couldn’t see his face. Loved that I could simply feel his smile on my sex as he licked me up and down now, using his thumb to rub my clit.
“I like your crazy. It makes you drip like a passion fruit.” He looked up, and I should have been embarrassed to see just how wet and shiny his lips and chin were, but I was way past being self-conscious.
Just minutes later, I came hard, watching as his beautiful lips sucked me hungrily. He looked up, his green eyes menacing, wild, in every shade of green known in nature, and stood up fully, his erection leveling with my face. He pushed me down until I was lying flat on my back and kneeled between my legs, straddling my left leg.
“Pretzel position,” he said, sliding into me bareback, his smirk dreamy and taunting all at once.
“Never heard of it,” I murmured.
“Well, I’ll make sure you never forget it.”
By the time I arrived at my shift, sans Roman, who’d gone to pick up his Harley from El Dorado and train Beck, I felt normal. More like myself. Less like the monster I’d wanted to be yesterday.
Before we parted ways, Bane kissed me in front of the entire café. It felt like a statement. A statement that lacked words, but said the same thing that I’d said to him that morning.
He’d stroked my cheek. “We need to talk tonight. After you’re done with Mrs. B. Promise me you’ll go to her from here, then straight to the houseboat.”
I nodded. I got it. He didn’t want me to clash with Pam. I didn’t, either.
“Pinky promise.”
“Straight back home,” he’d warned one last time.
I’d watched him as he jumped into Beck’s car to pick up his Harley.
And I’d felt it. The strength to do what needed to be done. To overcome Shadow’s death, and everything else life had thrown at me the past few years.
What I didn’t know was that this sudden strength was essential.
Because that evening, the princess had to wield her sword.
And finally slay all of her demons.
My shift zinged by. I was grateful to be occupied with work, because it prevented me from obsessing over Shadow. But Shadow wasn’t the only problem I had to deal with.
Where am I going to live?
Will I ever be able to forgive Pam?
Should I cut ties with Darren, now, too?
Is Mrs. Belfort going to be okay?
And perhaps the biggest question of them all, the one that had been swimming in my head since the flashback had started: who was the person that smelled of vodka? The one who made me subconsciously fill my room with Polaroids of people’s backs.
When I finished my shift, I had four missed calls. Two from Pam, one from Darren, and one from Roman. I figured Pam wanted to apologize because she was scared I was going to kill myself and that would stain her precious reputation, and Darren was going to plea her “she ith jutht worried about you” case. I wasn’t in the mood for the charade, so I only returned Roman’s call.
“Headed to Mrs. Belfort’s?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Just remember, do your thing, give her kids grief for being assholes, and come straight home. This can’t wait another day.”
“You’re making me nervous.” He was. I couldn’t bear any more bad news, but Roman was adamant we do this face-to-face. “Is it bad?”
He gave it some thought, not exactly what I was hoping for, before saying, “Straight back home.”
Home. Like his home was mine.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he said.
“Bye,” I said. I love you, I added to myself. And I’m scared.
I arrived at Mrs. Belfort’s and headed straight to her kitchen. Kacey was holding a cup of tea, and Mrs. Belfort was eating an apple pie, crumbs adorning her chin and coat. Ryan sat opposite to them, taking slow sips from a bottle of beer. They all looked up at me at once. I walked over and sat down in the spare chair.
“Hi. I’m Jesse.”
“We know who you are. Your boyfriend’s infamous, so getting a call from him was not exactly uplifting. This better be good,” Ryan scolded quietly. Neither of Mrs. Belfort’s kids resembled her. They were blond, tall, and completely unrelated to the warm woman I’d grown to love. I stood up, folding my arms over my chest. “We need to talk in private. All three of us.”
Mrs. Belfort looked up from her apple pie, her eyes wondrous and a little hurt.
“Imane,” I twisted my head, calling her housekeeper, “can you please keep Juliette company while we go to the dining room?”
Five minutes later, it was just Kacey, Ryan, and I. I sat across from them and felt grossly ill-equipped to help someone else—hell, I couldn’t even help myself—but I loved Juliette too much to see her neglected by her kids.
“Your mother has Alzheimer’s,” I said flatly.
“She also has a lot of assistance, as you can see.” Ryan waved his hand around an invisible staff. I took a deep, measured breath.
“She has some lucid moments. She knows that she is dying. She knows that her disease is eating away at her ability to function. She knows her kids are all the way across the country, with their heads buried in the sand.”
“We’ve been told that there’s nothing we can do,” Kacey, who wore a sharp suit and was a lawyer, jumped into the conversation, adding, “I can’t take her with me. I have a kid at home and a sixty-hour job. I just can’t.”
“I have a family, and I work for the biggest advertising company in Boston,” Ryan chipped in with his own sob story. I saw so many similarities between them and Pam. How they didn’t want to take responsibility for their own families, even though Juliette had raised them. Even though Pam was my mother. And then I thought about all the responsibilities I hadn’t taken, either. Refraining from taking Shadow to the vet sooner. Not reporting the men who did what they’d done to me and letting them get away with it, knowing that they were a ticking bomb waiting to explode on someone else. They’d gotten away with it once. They were going to do it again. I laced my fingers together and dragged my chair forward until my abs hit the table, drawing out the weapon I dreaded to use. The one that could have brought them over in a heartbeat if I’d had the balls to just tell them on the phone.
“Mrs. Belfort changed her will.”
“Huh?” Ryan scrunched his nose and slumped in his chair like a punished schoolboy. For the first time since we’d stepped into the dining room, his eyes were peeled off his phone screen.
I nodded solemnly. “She wants to give everything to me.”
“She is not lucid!” Kacey jumped, standing up on her feet and slapping the table.
I shook my head. “She was when she changed the will. And her medical staff knows it.”
“This is ridiculous!” Ryan screamed, still tucked snug in his chair. Kacey wiggled a threatening finger in my face, leaning close. “I heard all about you, Jesse Carter. I know you came from the slums. If you think you can cheat your way into my family fortune…”
“I don’t want the money,” I said wryly, because I didn’t. I didn’t care about anyone’s money. The correlation between having money and being happy seemed to have the opposite effect. As far as I was aware, the most miserable people I knew were filthy rich. And maybe it was because of my complete lack of interest in money that everyone around me was so eager to throw it at me. Darren and Juliette seemed to have that in common. “I want you to take responsibility for the person who gave all of herself to raise you.”
“So what are you suggesting?” Ryan huffed.
“I want her to move in with Kacey, because I know her apartment is big enough.” I turned from the woman in front of me and continued. “And you, Ryan, should take two weekends a month to drive down to New York and spend time with your mom. Let her see her grandchildren. And I want Imane and her nurse to move to New York with her. They already said yes.”
They stared at me like I was the devil. To them, maybe I was. I was tired of people not owning up to what they needed to do, and that included myself. It was time for a change. It was time to stop sitting on the sidelines of my life, watching it pass. “I’m also happy to give up every single penny Mrs. Belfort wants to give me—I have only known her for about two years, since…” It doesn’t matter, I tried to tell myself, only it did. I needed to start looking reality in the eye if I wanted to truly face it. “Since I went through something that changed my entire perspective about people and how you should treat them. I will give up all the money, reserving a very small budget for myself.”
Ryan snorted, shaking his head. “Of course.”
I continued, raising my voice. “A small budget that will go toward visiting her every other month, to make sure that she is happy with you guys.”
Stunned silence fell over the room. They looked at each other with such exasperation, I thought they were going to say no. And then what? The thought of moving in with Mrs. B occurred to me. But I wanted to put some space between Pam and me. Besides, Mrs. B didn’t need me. She needed her family.
“I never realized things were that bad.” Kacey’s gaze dropped to her folded hands on the table. She sat back down, seemingly humbled by arguing with a twenty-year-old over her mother’s fortune. “I mean, I would talk to her on the phone a few times every month and usually she’d talk like my dad was still alive. I didn’t know she had any idea what was going on.”
“She does.” I sniffed, scrapping an invisible stain from the table.
“Does she still go to the maze?” Ryan interrupted, his voice no longer hostile, although still edgy.
I shook my head. “I go there now.”
“That’s where they fell in love,” Kacey commented, and my heart skipped a beat at her words. It was where I’d fallen in love, too. “My dad and her. This mansion belonged to his family. She was the gardener’s daughter. He used to go there all the time. That’s where they met. That’s where they fell in love.” Kacey took a shaky breath, a tear rolling down her cheek. “That’s where I was conceived, and that’s why we are all here.”
I have no regrets. I loved fully, I remembered Mrs. Belfort saying.
I smiled to myself. “She is the best company I’ve had in years.”
Ryan stood up and looked at his sister, who did the same. Something passed between them I couldn’t interpret. They asked for an hour, which I was happy to give them. I spent the time sitting at the dining table, alone, thinking about everything and nothing.
After an hour, Kacey sauntered back into the room. Alone. She looked like she’d been crying. I wished I had a brother to hold me when I did.
“Yes. We will take her,” she nodded curtly. “I’ll make the arrangements ASAP.”
I sucked in a greedy breath, realizing I’d been holding it for who knows how long.
One pin down.
Just a few more to go.
I hurried to my Range Rover like my butt was on fire. Mainly, I wanted to get to Roman as soon as I could and have this conversation that hung over my head. I light-jogged to my vehicle when I heard the familiar sound of Darren’s Mercedes locking. I tried to slip into the driver’s side, but then I heard his voice booming from behind the palm trees dividing the two mansions. “Jethy!”
I froze for a second. No matter how mad I was at Pam, Darren didn’t deserve my wrath. I owed him at least an acknowledgment. I turned around from my door, plastering a patient smile on my face.
“Hey, Darren. I was actually just about to leave.”
Darren rushed over to where I was standing, and I inwardly groaned. I really wanted to get to Roman as soon as possible.
“I need to talk to you, thweetie.”
“Now’s not a good time.” I turned around, swinging my door open again.
“It’s about your boyfriend.”
I paused, my back still to him. He had my attention, though, and he knew it.
“I was hoping we could do it thomewhere elth. Maybe Mayra’th offith?”
Driving all the way downtown to have a talk with me? Why couldn’t he do it at the house? Because whatever it is, Pam doesn’t know. A terrible feeling came over me.
Why would Darren have a key to Mayra’s office, anyway? Just how close were they?
I’m missing a chunk from my memory.
No, you’re not.
“Darren, I want to leave.”
I want to leave.
He gripped my arm and turned me around. It wasn’t violent and it wasn’t hurtful. What it was, was familiar. And it shouldn’t have been.
“Jethy,” this time it was a growl.
“What do you want?” I barked. A miserable feeling of a lack of self-control came over me. This felt dangerous. I wanted to take my imaginary sword and use it. I wanted to become the hero of my own story.
“You have to break up with Roman.”
“Why?”
“Becauth he is lying to you.”
“Why?” I persisted.
“Because the only reason he slept with you was because I paid him to!” His words came out in an angry haste. The air in my lungs squeezed against my chest, and my mouth dropped open. I stared at him, wide-eyed, before the next splutter of words attacked me. He was so close to me, our faces so near, I could see things on his face I’d never seen before. Fury. Frustration. Madness.
“I knew he was the town’s whore and that he was for hire. Knew that he had a café for you to work in. I paid him six million dollars to build his stupid SurfCity in exchange for spending six months with you. I didn’t want him to touch you or seduce you, just bring you back to life. I meant well, Jesse, but he took the money and the girl, too. A girl who wasn’t mine to give. He tried to blackmail me yesterday.”
My back slammed against my vehicle. I cupped a hand over my mouth. “No.”
“Yes. I bet he didn’t tell you why I wanted to break the contract, right? I didn’t even mind about you going out together. I only want what’s best for you, sweetie.” He was under the impression Bane had already told me.
I have something to tell you.
Is it bad?
Just come home.
He was about to.
Darren took a step toward me, even though we were already too close. “I ran a check on him to make sure he wasn’t as dangerous as they said.” He talked fast, in a hurry to get his point across. “And I found out that…sweetie, Roman is your stepbrother. Artem had an affair with Roman’s mother.”
An arrow of hot angry bile shot straight to my throat.
“You’re lying.” My voice broke.
Darren thrust his phone into my hand. “Call him and ask. He won’t deny this. His mother was Artem’s mistress. He is not the solution to your problems, Jesse. He is the cause of all of them.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked. I’d never seen him like this. Sweaty. Red. Angry. It’s like he’d lost control over himself. His suit was wrinkly, his hair sticking out in every direction, and there were black circles under his eyes. Now that I thought about it—really thought about it—Darren never quite looked like he had his shit together. But lately…lately he looked even worse. The crumpled clothes. The fidgeting. The long hours in his office. He was falling apart.
Was he ever put together?
“Because I care about you, Jesse. All the things I did, I did because I care about you. I never knew he’d touch you.”
“No.” I pushed his chest, and he stumbled back, his mouth falling in shock. “Why did you marry my mother? You don’t even love her. Hell, you hardly ever speak to her. Why do we live with you? I don’t even acknowledge your existence most of the time. Why do you interfere with my life? Why would you hire Bane? And a private investigator? Why, Darren? Why, why, why?”
He stared at me, an ocean of emotions swimming in his eyes. There was something he wanted to say. Something he knew better than to utter aloud.
“Tell me!” I stomped my foot, allowing the tears to fall down now.
“Because I love you.”
I sniffed, smiling bitterly. “Don’t take it personally, Darren, but I hate you. I hate you and I hate your mansion and I hate El Dorado and Todos Santos. I hate the entitled assholes who rule this town, and the fakers, and the too-trimmed lawns, and the too-shiny mall. I hate that you’re trying to fix me. I hate that your wife is a bitch. I hate that your wife is my mom.” But most of all, I hated Roman Protsenko for giving me hope and then taking it away. For giving me a false future, but also for taking the one thing that mattered. My dad. I pushed Darren again so I could climb into my Rover and leave.
The slap came out of nowhere, landing square on my cheek. It was so hard it echoed in my ear for seconds later. I had to blink to make things blur back into focus.
“Oh. Oh, Jesse, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…I never meant to…”
He held his palms up, trying to peel my hands off my face so he could take a look at what he’d done, but it was too late. I was going to run over the bastard if I had to. I hopped into my vehicle, locked the door quickly, and started the engine. I bolted out of there like a bat out of hell, getting out of the neighborhood first, and rolling onto the main road leading into downtown Todos Santos.
It was only at the traffic light, when I stared at the bright red circle on my face, that the penny dropped.
Darren hadn’t had a lisp.
And he smelled of vodka.