Past Transgressions
~Caroline~
Beep. Beep. Beep. When my alarm wakes me for a new day, I stretch, slapping the machine quiet. Feeling around me, I am astounded.
Dry Sheets. Full night of sleep. No stress pains.
I slept through the night for the first time in I don’t know how many months. Thinking about my evening the night before, I smile as butterflies dance in my stomach. Did I really spend last night on my couch simply talking with Rex? We actually spent a completely innocent evening together. I never thought that would be possible with him. It was strange yet, somehow, brought me this comfort I haven’t had in a long time¸ possibly ever. There is so much more to Rex than I’ve thought.
Readying for my day, I smile as I slip my feet into my overly priced, overly high heels, reminiscing Rex taking his time to gently massage away the pains of my day and my worries at the same time. I have never had someone take such care with me. If people knew my history, they would laugh.
I am the daughter to the ex-governor’s housekeeper. More than that, I am the daughter to the ex-governor’s whore. Yes, my mom was titled the housekeeper, but she did more than dusting and mopping.
The life of privilege, some may perceive I grew up in, is all false. When people ask where I grew up, I spout off the address two streets over to the upscale subdivision Governor John Comer retired in. As a public figure, people would know I wasn’t his daughter, so if I gave out my actual address, everyone would know my mom was hired help. Luckily for me, his spoiled princess was my size.
Eliza also took ‘pity’ on poor, little me and gave me all her clothes, some of which she never took the tags off. It helped me pull off my charade. She didn’t know my mom was a live-in housekeeper, not based on her skills at cleaning, but rather the way she ‘sucked his dick like no other.’ She cleaned all right, cleaned his cock with her tongue. Honestly, Eliza didn’t care what her dad did as long as her credit card bill got paid monthly and her Mercedes was the newest model.
When I was younger, the hand-me-downs seemed nice, as my mother was so happy to see Eliza want to share with me. As I got older, I realized I was a joke to her and all her private school friends. When I got to high school, I knew I would have to bust my ass to get into college. I also knew, when I got away, I would one day have everything Eliza had and then some, because I would do it on my own, not on daddy’s dollars.
Fake it until you make it…to the top.
That is my life. No one knows. Not Delilah, not Savannah, not even my mom know that I dress the way I dress to remind me life doesn’t afford me the opportunity to relax. If I relax, if I let up, I will be the poor daughter of a whore who is only good for sucking dick and scrubbing dishes. Not for me, nope. I refuse to be defined by my upbringing. I will become everything my mother wasn’t. I will become everything Eliza had the potential to be yet isn’t. And I will do it wearing her overpriced shoes just to put the icing on the cake.
Thinking back on my childhood, on my history, it all gives me more determination to succeed. Grabbing my purse, I head out of my apartment with my suit pressed, my hair tied back in a tight bun without a strand out of place, and my body feeling energized by the full night of sleep. I actually feel ready to face the day for the first time in a very long while.
The clicking of my heels on the concrete only gives me more pep in my step to be successful. I once read that actors get dressed in costume first because, in order to be the part, you must first look the part. Well, I damn sure look the part of a successful, independent business woman, and I won’t be stopped.
The motivation, the determination, and the dream all crash land the minute my beautiful shoes stop clicking at my desk.
“Good morning, Miss Milton,” he greets from his office doorway, his voice worse than fingernails on a chalkboard.
My desk sits right outside his door. As his junior accountant, I report everything to him and take my direct orders from him.
He makes his way over to my chair, pulling it out for me.
“We have a busy day organizing payroll for a new client. Sit and let’s get started.” He smiles an evil grin as if he knows he rattles me.
Rolling my shoulders back, I stand taller, firmer. I will not be broken. I will not be shaken. I will not shatter. I am not defined by my past. Chad is just another man in a suit who believes all women are beneath him, and my place in this world is not underneath any man.
I sit in my chair, trying to ignore him as he pushes my chair under my desk and leans over me. I swear he breathes in deeply at my neck as if he is inhaling my perfume. My body reacts as his exhale comes down my neck. I tense without wanting to.
He hums to himself as he presses closer to the back of my chair, leaning over me to click on the monitor of my computer.
“I’ll walk you through the first two. Then you can take it from there.”
“Chad, I have done payroll before. Thank you for the instruction, but if you give me the login, I am sure I can sort through it. I know you have a full schedule, no need to oversee this one,” I try to give him a valid escape in a professional manner.
“I came in early to clear up my schedule so I can help you with this one, but thank you for concerning yourself with my task load. It’s nice to know you care.”
Cold runs through me, turning my veins to ice as he softly says the last sentence. Care? Can he really think I care? What demented world does he live in? I kneed him in the balls. I don’t care about him, not in the least bit.
I steel myself, ready to push through the day. As the computer screen blinks to life, I place my hand over the mouse. His hand comes around from behind me, squeezing my arm before it comes to rest over mine on the small device controlling the computer. Lacing his fingers between mine, he controls the mouse and my hand as panic sets in. Then I feel his other hand come around, essentially caging me into my desk as he leans against my chair, sliding me farther into the desk.
I close my eyes, breathing in and trying to keep the anxiousness at bay.
“Relax, baby,” he whispers, breathing heavily into my ear.
Baby. I have always hated that endearment. Bile builds in the pit of my stomach as I take in my predicament.
Nowhere to go.
Trapped by my own choices, yet again, I put my free hand on the edge of the desk and start to push back. However, Chad’s body keeps me firmly in place.
“Trying to run again?” he whispers. “Thrill of the chase, Caroline. You should know, it only turns me on more, baby.”
After I push back harder, only to be still rendered immobile, he runs his nose up and down my exposed neck.
“You can’t escape me. I do love a challenge, Caroline.”
The screen changes, drawing my attention as I fight to not vomit all over my desk. The name on the file staring at me makes me stop breathing.
Governor John Comer Staffing
Chad laughs over my shoulder as he pushes off the back of my chair, forcing my stomach into the desk painfully. His hand off mine, I am free.
“I know everything about you, baby. Cookie cutter clean is not you. Think on that and about your future here. I’ll leave you to your day. Next time I invite you to dinner, you should seriously consider my invitation,” he tosses out casually over his shoulder before entering his office.
I click the folder to see an entire file on my mother’s relationship with the ex-governor, including his time in the office when she was then staffed as Eliza’s ‘nanny.’ If this wasn’t damaging enough, I click the tab labeled college years, and a picture of me with a man older than my grandfather flashes in front of me. Shit.
Scrolling down, the words at the bottom of the picture bring my world crashing down around me.
Once a whore, always a whore. Like mother, like daughter. I’ll be seeing you soon.
I quickly delete the offending file before taking off for the bathroom. No one knew about that time in my life. Alvin Higgins made sure of it.
The room spins as I barely make it into the stall before emptying the meager contents of my stomach.
Alvin Higgins. My past transgressions are mixing with my current ones in a sloppy mess, and I only have two options.
Give into Chad.
Or quit my job and give up my dreams.
When people say your college years are time for you to make mistakes, they weren’t kidding. However, they fail to tell you those mistakes will haunt you until the end of your days. Skeletons rarely stay in the closet; they have a way of tumbling out, no matter how deep you bury them.
~Rex~
“You have got to be shittin’ me.”
I am at the office with Tripp after returning from a four day run. Knowing Lux has had trouble with the asshole at work, I have tried to be there for her in the background without her knowing by either a quick phone call or a text once a day.
Tripp, on the other hand, has used that time to have our guys dig into this Chad guy’s background, and what they found isn’t pretty.
“Wish I was, Rex. Hell, when Doll first told me Caroline was having problems with a douchebag at work, I didn’t think it would turn into this.”
I run my hands through my hair in frustration. Lux is in danger—serious fucking danger—and she doesn’t even know it. Every woman he comes in contact with is in danger. Scum, evil, every darkness that could crawl inside someone’s soul must live inside this man for him to sleep at night after doing all the awful things he has done.
The report sits in front of me. Pictures of battered women in hospitals, after going out just once with him, haunt me as I close my eyes and try to calm the rage brewing inside of me. Stalking, sexual assault, rape, assault with a deadly weapon, genital mutilation, sexual harassment—and the list goes on.
There are eight victims here that we have a trail to. Eight fucking woman who have been impacted by this man and his sick, twisted desires. He gets off on being in a position to overpower them and blackmailing them. Every single one of them were women he worked with at different companies over the years, yet not one of them followed through with charges or filing complaints.
Blowing out a breath, I try to let go of my frustrations. How does he sleep at night? How does this not weigh on his conscious? I am far from a saint, but it has taken me time to get over some of the things I have done.
The first kill wrecked me. I was on a transport with Tripp. We were young, way too cocky, and had five drinks too many one night in a small Mississippi town. Out of our territory, out of our minds, and way too fucked up to care, we weren’t alert when the sport bikes surrounded our truck in the bar’s parking lot. Heading out, talking shit about the Ninjas, we were outnumbered, out armed, and thoroughly fucked.
Kill or be killed. Funny how quickly adrenaline kicks in.
Before I even realized what was going on, Tripp had a knife pulled on him. In a split second, he had the same knife in one guy’s gut and that man’s gun pulled on another guy. When the attention went to my biker brother, my blood cousin, my family, I snapped.
Yeah, I took a bullet to the leg that night, but I also shot two guys in the head before they could take out Tripp. Then we busted up the others pretty well before he got me in the truck and we pulled out. Two towns later, I went to the hospital, got the bullet wound checked, cleaned, and got the hell out of dodge.
Just one time answering all those questions made us aware of every move we make when out of our territory, and facing Roundman when we got home was a punishment worse than jail. Still, even after that, I dreamed of that night over and over for months before Frisco stepped in and reminded me, if I hadn’t killed them, they were sure as shit going to kill me. They were a biker gang known for stealing trucks on transports to sell the contents on the street. They had a number of kills under them, most of them innocent truck drivers who knew nothing of the life.
The Hellions don’t kill for turf wars, never have. Self-defense? Yes, I will take a life without hesitation. When seconds count, they will count on my side. Have I killed for retribution? Sure as fuck did—for Tessie. Does it bother me? Nope.
What haunts me? Not being able to save her guts me. Not being there to prevent that fucker Shep from ever touching her in the first place keeps me up at night. Honestly, at the cabin with Shooter and Shep, we weren’t harsh enough. What’s done is done. I can’t go back, but I can move forward and make sure no other woman close to me gets dealt the hand Tessie was in that stock room at the greasy, dirty hands of Shep.
“Rex, he’s got connections. All this information was buried, none of it public record.”
I look at the stack of files, and my gut twists. “How deep?”
“Deep enough we had to call in an outside hacker.”
“Fuck!” I roar as the helplessness engulfs me.
“Gonna put a man on her,” Tripp states like the solution is that simple.
“No. You’re gonna keep me home, and I’m gonna be on her.”
“Rex, she barely tolerates you. Hell, I don’t know that she’s gonna be okay with us having anyone on her. She’s told Doll more times than I can count that she’s fine and overreacted,” Tripp challenges, watching me carefully.
“Lux doesn’t overreact, and we’re friends now. She’s not gonna be okay with us having just anyone on her, but she’ll tolerate me. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Friends?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Yeah, watched movies and had cheesecake and shit.”
When Tripp busts out laughing at me, I punch him in the arm without holding back. “Not funny, fucker. I’m serious. We hung out last week, and I’ve been texting her and shit. We’re good. We’re friends.”
“Come on, you, Lux, and cheesecake? You really want me to believe this? You fucked her.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m trying really hard here, man,” I state honestly.
“Trying really hard to what, Rex? She’s not like the barflies. She’s not even like Doll or Tessie. She doesn’t know our world or understand it.”
“None of that shit matters, Tripp. She’s ours, and we protect what’s ours.”
“She’s not attached to the club, Rex. She’s attached to Doll.”
“Good enough for me. Tessie wasn’t attached to the club, technically, but we had her back. With Lux, I’m gonna have her front, back, sides, and everywhere in between. I failed Tessie; I won’t fail Lux.”
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.” I drop my hand on the file for the scum bag I plan to take to the ground.
“This isn’t club business. Hell, Rex, we don’t actually know what happened that night. Doll doesn’t push, and Lux doesn’t give up anything.”
“Let me do this my way, Tripp. I just need to know you have my back.”
He smacks my shoulder. “Always, brother.”