Page 26
Story: Rivals & Revenge
"Ahren Rossdale, son of the late billionaire Evan Rossdale, your first kill. Congratulations, by the way, or is it condolences? Hard tostrike the proper tone on that one." I said, a wry smirk dancing on my lips.
He leaned forward, only inches now separating us. His heated breath warmed my face, carrying the woody spice of his amber liquid and something more, something stronger that I longed to taste.
“He was a drunk. A power-hungry bastard and I can promise you I haven't shed even the smallest of tears. But you're right, our names do tell on us,” he said, dropping back into his chair, his eyes raking over me as he took a slow sip of his drink.
"Tierney Elise Darwood, eldest daughter of the late Arthur Darwood. Oh look, something we have in common. Seems you killed him for—what was it?"
"That’s enough." I whispered.
He continued as if I hadn't spoken." Oh yes, diddling your baby sister. Bravo, by the way. He was a right bastard. You ended him too quickly, if you ask me."
"Stop it, Ahren." I croaked, my voice breaking as I uttered his name.
“Your mother couldn't handle his death and committed suicide shortly thereafter,” he continued, reading off my secrets like well-rehearsed lines from a play.
"No big loss there, if you ask me. Your children or the man who plays hide the pickle with your sixteen-year-old. Should be an easy choice." The pretentious bastard continued, his posh accent weaving my ugly past into a grim fairytale.
"Your poor sister fell into drugs after your parents' death and despite all you'd done to protect her, you couldn't save her from herself."
My fingers fisted the blanket, desperate for something to ground me. My eyes slid shut, unable to bear the weight of the memories. He was right about my father. I tried not to think too much about it, buthe was right about mother too. Neither of them carried much weight for me anymore. But Carissa, that was still too heavy for me.
I leaned forward and snatched his glass from him, wincing as the sudden movement yanked at my stitches. The image of the man before me, always so well put together, now sitting slack-jawed, his hand still hanging in the air, fingers clenched around the phantom glass. That was priceless.
Chapter 16
AHREN
I’d gone too far. I’d known it the moment my name slipped from her lips. The sound of her voice cracking clawed at my insides, but the words kept flowing, each one sharper than the last, hitting their target with the precision of a well-timed shot.
I admit I hadn’t known how to respond when she snatched my glass from me. My silence was a win I’d gladly give her. The truth was, the sight of that sly smile and her lips on the rim where mine had been only moments ago had my cock hardening painfully.
This was uncharted territory for a few reasons. I’d always just taken what I wanted. Few people had the nerve to waste their breath telling me no. If I wanted something, it was as good as mine.
I didn’t have a particular vice; I loved my Wolfsbane scotch, but I could take it or leave it. Women were a delicious distraction, but I’dnever found one to hold my attention beyond my orgasm. No matter how beautiful she was, by the time the sun rose, I was done.
Then there was Tierney. I wanted to fuck her—no question. But despite this thing between us—this heat simmering just beneath the surface. Something told me if I made a move on her now she would slit my throat then spit in my face for getting blood on her favorite knife.
I had enough people who wanted me dead. I didn’t need to add her to the list. Besides, my cock could wait. The most important thing was to get her to trust me.
This life we led was solitary by nature. Trust was a luxury we couldn’t afford. Certainly not something we gave away easily.
Still, she and I were two sides of the same twisted coin. We were more alike than either of us wanted to admit and as I stood pondering our similarities; I had a few ideas about how we might begin bridging that gap.
My fingers closed around the Walther sitting on my bedside table, pushing it into my waistband and grabbing the soft case I kept in the drawer.
The plush carpet absorbed my footfalls, carrying me silently toward Tierney’s room. In a flash of brilliance, I put her at the end of the long hallway—as in the complete opposite side of the house from me.
A move I regretted more with each step it took me to reach her. Not much scared me, but to say I wasn’t a fan of the writhing pit of snakes in my stomach would be an understatement. Our introductions earlier hadn’t gone well. She seemed like the kind of girl who needed a week to cool off after a confrontation like that one, but that was time we didn’t have.
A deep breath in. Count to five. Release.
I knocked on the door quietly and waited.
Waiting wasn’t new to me. Hell, I’d once waited three days to take a shot. But apparently the three minutes or so it took before she answered were enough to get under my skin.
“Come in.” Came her timid reply.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside, refusing to give myself a moment to hesitate.
He leaned forward, only inches now separating us. His heated breath warmed my face, carrying the woody spice of his amber liquid and something more, something stronger that I longed to taste.
“He was a drunk. A power-hungry bastard and I can promise you I haven't shed even the smallest of tears. But you're right, our names do tell on us,” he said, dropping back into his chair, his eyes raking over me as he took a slow sip of his drink.
"Tierney Elise Darwood, eldest daughter of the late Arthur Darwood. Oh look, something we have in common. Seems you killed him for—what was it?"
"That’s enough." I whispered.
He continued as if I hadn't spoken." Oh yes, diddling your baby sister. Bravo, by the way. He was a right bastard. You ended him too quickly, if you ask me."
"Stop it, Ahren." I croaked, my voice breaking as I uttered his name.
“Your mother couldn't handle his death and committed suicide shortly thereafter,” he continued, reading off my secrets like well-rehearsed lines from a play.
"No big loss there, if you ask me. Your children or the man who plays hide the pickle with your sixteen-year-old. Should be an easy choice." The pretentious bastard continued, his posh accent weaving my ugly past into a grim fairytale.
"Your poor sister fell into drugs after your parents' death and despite all you'd done to protect her, you couldn't save her from herself."
My fingers fisted the blanket, desperate for something to ground me. My eyes slid shut, unable to bear the weight of the memories. He was right about my father. I tried not to think too much about it, buthe was right about mother too. Neither of them carried much weight for me anymore. But Carissa, that was still too heavy for me.
I leaned forward and snatched his glass from him, wincing as the sudden movement yanked at my stitches. The image of the man before me, always so well put together, now sitting slack-jawed, his hand still hanging in the air, fingers clenched around the phantom glass. That was priceless.
Chapter 16
AHREN
I’d gone too far. I’d known it the moment my name slipped from her lips. The sound of her voice cracking clawed at my insides, but the words kept flowing, each one sharper than the last, hitting their target with the precision of a well-timed shot.
I admit I hadn’t known how to respond when she snatched my glass from me. My silence was a win I’d gladly give her. The truth was, the sight of that sly smile and her lips on the rim where mine had been only moments ago had my cock hardening painfully.
This was uncharted territory for a few reasons. I’d always just taken what I wanted. Few people had the nerve to waste their breath telling me no. If I wanted something, it was as good as mine.
I didn’t have a particular vice; I loved my Wolfsbane scotch, but I could take it or leave it. Women were a delicious distraction, but I’dnever found one to hold my attention beyond my orgasm. No matter how beautiful she was, by the time the sun rose, I was done.
Then there was Tierney. I wanted to fuck her—no question. But despite this thing between us—this heat simmering just beneath the surface. Something told me if I made a move on her now she would slit my throat then spit in my face for getting blood on her favorite knife.
I had enough people who wanted me dead. I didn’t need to add her to the list. Besides, my cock could wait. The most important thing was to get her to trust me.
This life we led was solitary by nature. Trust was a luxury we couldn’t afford. Certainly not something we gave away easily.
Still, she and I were two sides of the same twisted coin. We were more alike than either of us wanted to admit and as I stood pondering our similarities; I had a few ideas about how we might begin bridging that gap.
My fingers closed around the Walther sitting on my bedside table, pushing it into my waistband and grabbing the soft case I kept in the drawer.
The plush carpet absorbed my footfalls, carrying me silently toward Tierney’s room. In a flash of brilliance, I put her at the end of the long hallway—as in the complete opposite side of the house from me.
A move I regretted more with each step it took me to reach her. Not much scared me, but to say I wasn’t a fan of the writhing pit of snakes in my stomach would be an understatement. Our introductions earlier hadn’t gone well. She seemed like the kind of girl who needed a week to cool off after a confrontation like that one, but that was time we didn’t have.
A deep breath in. Count to five. Release.
I knocked on the door quietly and waited.
Waiting wasn’t new to me. Hell, I’d once waited three days to take a shot. But apparently the three minutes or so it took before she answered were enough to get under my skin.
“Come in.” Came her timid reply.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside, refusing to give myself a moment to hesitate.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99