Borden (Borden #1) (22 page)

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Authors: R. J. Lewis

BOOK: Borden (Borden #1)
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Borden’s grip on the gun tightened and he shook. He was usually calm in these situations. There was usually no feeling involved. But that was back when his world was black and grey.

It wasn’t black and grey any more.

It was filled with fucking colours again.

And who had to stand in front of him now to shake him up even more? None other than the father of the woman he’d loved before her untimely death.

“I’m sorry,” Borden whispered to him, the ache in his voice present.

Doug tried his best to glare at him, but even under the raw hatred, Borden could only see pain. It never occurred to him that he wasn’t the only person putting up a front, pretending to the world that he was impenetrable.

Doug was suffering more than he was. He’d only tasted a short year in Kate’s life, and even in that short time frame she’d left a permanent footprint on his soul. But her father…he’d had her all his life. He’d seen her from baby to woman. His suffering was unimaginable in comparison to Borden’s.

They weren’t just two angry souls clashing. They were two souls hurting, and they recognized that in that moment. Doug looked away from him and stared down at the dirty floor, his shoulders heaving up and down as he sobbed.

“I miss her,” he cried breathlessly. “I miss her, that’s all. I just miss her.”

Borden’s eyes pained. He let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah.”

He missed her too. Always.

“I keep thinking of what I could have done differently. I was too hard on her. I stifled her.”

“You loved her,” Borden said. “She knew that.”

Doug continued shaking, a man reduced to this was hard for Borden to watch.

“You can’t let this happen again,” Doug then said, looking at him. “You can’t.”

Borden went still. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone talks, Marcus. They all know about the girl.”

He looked away and down at the ground. “Is that why you did this, Doug? Tried silencing me because you think it’ll happen again?”

“It will,” Doug returned. “It will, Marcus. You have too many people who want you dead. Every day people. It’s going to happen.”

He didn’t reply.

Suddenly overwhelmed and emotionally raw, he clenched his teeth and walked off. Hawke’s brow furrowed when Borden approached.

“Let him go,” Borden instructed simply, trying to keep his voice level. “He isn’t himself. He’s had too much to drink.”

“Kate’s father or not, drunk or not, his intentions were to kill you,” Hawke snapped back angrily. “You can’t let him breathe another minute.”

Borden breathed heavily, trying to get his thoughts in order, but he felt like a noose had wrapped itself around his neck. He looked back at Doug, and then at Hawke’s stone-cold face. The walls around him started to close in, and he took off out of the warehouse, pacing back and forth.

A sharp twist in the centre of his being, and he dropped to his knees. He grabbed at his hair and pulled at it in frustration before dragging his nails down his face. But even the pain didn’t remove the ache inside of him. All he saw was Kate’s dead face. He couldn’t even look back at a time when she was smiling, not after witnessing that smiling face look at him lifelessly. His fingers dug into the ground, and his eyes continued to sting with unshed tears. FUCKING FUCK,
why
couldn’t he ever just cry for her? Why wouldn’t the tears fall?

He would never have seen that face had he never returned. She would have been alive. Doug was right. He was fucking right about everything.

Borden was a monster, and he deserved to die.

“He can’t live,” Hawke said from behind him. “You know it too, Borden. All the men know about him coming here. How will they respect you if you don’t put this man into the ground for trying to kill the most powerful man in New Raven?”

Borden stared up at the sky, as if waiting for it to offer him answers to this fucked up situation.

“It’s not personal,” Hawke continued. “Just get it done and we’ll take care of the rest.”

Borden exhaled slowly and rose to his feet. He felt like a man stripped of his armour. If he did this then he was lower than the fucking scum that killed Kate.

And was he?

He turned around, and nodding to Hawke, he strode back into the warehouse.

 

Twenty-Three

Emma

The ones at the top are always the worst, Emma. But you already knew that.

I was rattled by his words. I’d spent the rest of the day trying to understand the man I worked months for. I tried to imagine him as the villain he portrayed himself to be, and it alarmed me when I broke down into tears. Because he really was, and no amount of humanizing him would change that.

So why didn’t I stop feeling less for him then?

*

Borden wasn’t in the office the next day.

In fact, he didn’t show up the rest of the week. And the week after.

That was nine Borden-less days.

It was absolute agony. I suffered.
Seriously suffered.
The office felt so empty. My heart felt cold. I was pining for him. What would have caused him to just disappear like that? I tried asking Hawke where he was during lunch one day, but the asshole deliberately ignored me, telling me it wasn’t my business. Not even Moustache Man budged when I begged for some information.

It was just shit. I felt every minute of every hour pass, and then I went home, unhappy and confused with my emotions.

It was just… I’d been around that man non-stop for weeks on end. He’d filled up so much of my day. It wasn’t fair that he probably didn’t give a shit about me, and I was hanging by a thread, caring for his whereabouts like I cared for my next breath.

Shame that didn’t go both ways.

It was Friday night and I’d just returned from grocery shopping. Moustache Man had generously helped me bring up the bags to my apartment and left. I was in the process of putting things away when I heard a knock on the door.

I glanced at the time. 6:40pm. It was late-ish, but I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I certainly knew nobody in this building. I grabbed my switchblade from my purse and let the blade flip open. I cautiously walked to the door, straining to hear any sounds.

“Emma, it’s me.”

Borden.

My shoulders sagged in relief and my heart skipped a beat at his voice. I quickly unlocked the door. Opening it, I saw him standing there, jeans and a plain black tee on, with his arms against the doorway. For a brief second, I felt like I’d been injected with life again. Warmth flooded into my system, and then it crashed into the other side of me, the side that questioned why I would be happy with a man that didn’t tell me he was going to be absent for so long.

“Where have you been?” I demanded angrily.

“Are you going to let in?” he replied, calmly.

“Answer me first.”

“Let me in first, or stab me with your knife. Your call.”

I stiffened and looked down at my opened blade. Shit. I quickly closed it and widened the door for him. There was no use being childish and leaving him out. He stepped inside, brushing against me. God, he smelled good. That scent was his signature, and I’d been dying for it for days.

“Where have you been, Borden?” I repeated, shutting the door and turning to him.

“I had some work to get around to,” he said vaguely.

“I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks.”

“I know.”

I frowned at his nonchalant voice. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be away?”

“Does it matter now? I’m here.”

“Yes, it matters! You need to tell me, dammit. Where were you?”

He turned around, looking at me with his brow furrowed. “Why do I have to tell you where I was, Emma?”

“Because.”

“Because
what
?” he pressed, his face darkening. “Last I heard, you’re my employee, and I’m your boss, and I don’t have to tell you shit.”

I crossed my arms, feeling angrier than before. “I’m not just your employee, and you’re not just my boss.”

“No?” he leaned forward, staring at me hard. “Then what am I, Emma? Educate me.”

“You’re a man coming to my apartment because you want me. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

He didn’t respond. He was suddenly very upset, and under the terrible dim lighting, I took notice of the black bags under his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and suddenly moved to the front door. I quickly stood in his way.

“No,” I told him. “Don’t come and then decide to leave when you realize what’s happening between us –”

“There’s nothing happening between us,” he seethed.

“Liar.”

Abruptly, he gripped me tightly around the shoulders, shaking me as he gritted out, “You want to know where I’ve been? I’ve been wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to do with you. I don’t know whether to fire you or fuck you.”

“You won’t fire me,” I retorted, glaring at him with certainty. “You want me, and not just my body, but me. Admit it.”

“You’re delusional.”

“No, I’m just not afraid of you anymore.”

His eyes narrowed. “Then you’re an idiot, Emma.”

“Good. If being an idiot means being with you, then I’ll embrace it.”

He let me go, staring at me like I’d gone mad, but I hadn’t. I was just admitting something we’d both known for a long while.

“Then I let this go too far,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself.

“Because you wanted to,” I replied, pressing him to admit it. “Don’t act like I’m the crazy one here. You wanted to take it far because you liked how good it felt.”

He didn’t respond. He looked like he was desperate for an escape. He glanced over my shoulder and at the door and then at me again.

“Don’t go,” I pled, shaking my head. “You’re not the kind of man that runs.”

Jesus, what had happened to him? He looked completely out of sorts, like his guard was down. And angry. Very fucking angry.

Instead of going, he turned around and strode away. I watched him disappear into the bedroom, shutting the door violently like he owned the place.

I was shaky and anxious. I stared at the door for some time, unwilling to move until my heart rate calmed down. Then I let out a breath and went to him. I opened the bedroom door quietly and found him seated on the edge of my bed in the dark, elbows on each knee, looking down at the floor. I moved to him and knelt down in front of him, taking in his expressionless face, which I knew was a façade. He was hiding his emotions, like he was so good at doing.

“Borden,” I whispered, softly. “Talk to me.”

His eyes flickered to mine. There was hesitation there. He wasn’t prepared to talk, and that was strange all on its own. I’d never seen him unprepared with just about anything.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” he finally muttered, sounding lost.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re getting under my skin, Emma.”

My hand reached out to his face, and I stroked his cheek. He shut his eyes at my touch. “Maybe that’s a good thing,” I said.

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I’m not supposed to bring anyone close.”

“Why?”

He opened his eyes, looking gravely at me. “You know why.”

Kate.

“I’m so tired of being in control of everything,” he went on, his voice growing harder. “I’m so sick of being this way. Sick of being on top. Sick of being alone. Sick of pining for a woman I know will get hurt in the end.”

“I won’t get hurt,” I heatedly stressed.

“There are a lot of people out there that will try to hurt you, Emma. Do you want to end up dead, your body in the river, placed there just so I could dive in and pull you out?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That won’t happen.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you’ll make sure of that, and so will I.”

He didn’t look convinced, shaking his head irritably.

“I’m not soft,” I added, angered by his doubt. “I’ve taken care of myself through a hell of a lot in my short life, Borden, and the only person who has ever gotten through to me is a man who takes great pleasure in being an asshole. Deep down, we’re the same. We came from the same place. We carry similar scars and we’ve endured. You don’t have any right to say otherwise.”

“And what happens if you’re wrong? If I bring you into my world and I call you mine, I’m fucked. Like the drugs, Emma, I latch. You won’t go –
I wouldn’t let you
.”

I gave him a sad smile. “That’s life. It’s a gamble. We take risks so that on the other side it might mean something.”

He tore away from my eyes and dropped his head. He ran both hands through his hair, exhaling loudly. “I never wanted to be in this position again, but I can’t get you out of my fucking head. I can’t breathe without thinking about you, and I…I feel guilt over it.”

“Why guilt?”

“Because I reserved myself for
her
.”

I nodded slowly, admittedly a little jealous at this admission, though I understood it was wrong to feel that way. I clasped my hands over his and brought them away from his head. Leaning closer, I nuzzled into him, searching for his mouth. He raised his head to me, and I softly kissed him.

“It’s okay to feel that way,” I reassured him. “I’m not asking you to love me like you love Kate. Hell, I’m not asking you to love me period. I’m just asking that you take a step forward with me, and maybe something good will come of it.”

His blue eyes searched mine, and for once, I felt unreadable. With that soft smile on my face, he couldn’t see that I was hurting on the inside. I was falling for him, and in that moment, I didn’t think it was possible he’d ever feel the same as me.

Why was I okay with that?

“You’re sure this is what you want?” he asked, looking me over carefully. “Because I swear to fucking God, the second you say yes, I’m packing your shit and taking you to my place.”

“I’ve done well taking care of myself, you know.”

“Not like this. I can’t afford to slip up once, Emma. If anyone gets at you…No fucking way. I need to be able to get a hold of you any time I need to. I can no longer have you looked after by just Graeme. ”

I smiled. “Does he live in his car? Is that why I see him everywhere?”

“No, but I’m sure he sleeps in it. He’s protective of you, you know.”

“Why?”

Borden shrugged. “Just is. I don’t know. Won’t let anyone take his place, but I get why. You’re fucking addictive, so it’s no surprise he’s addicted to looking out for you.”

I bit my bottom lip. “You’re addicted to me?”

“Don’t be obtuse. The second I heard your name, I was on to you in a heartbeat.”

I raised a brow questionably. “Why when you heard my name?”

“Maybe it sounded pretty.”

I rolled my eyes. “Bullshit excuse, but nice try. So now talk.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, silently deliberating with himself about something. I tried to think of what my name had to do with anything, and I came up absolutely short. There was zero reason, at least, that I knew of.

Licking his bottom lip slowly, he finally whispered, “You once said to me… help is for the weak.”

I stilled.

What?

“I don’t get it,” I replied slowly, but deep inside, I kind of did. My brain was making connections – important connections – grasping moments in my life that had meant something to me.

He waited for me to acknowledge it, but I simply shook my head. No. No way. I needed more to be sure.

“Alley cat,” I whispered to myself just then as another memory flashed through my mind. I had wondered too often why he called me that, and now…

What the fuck have you been up to all night, alley cat?

“It was you?” I asked, still treading carefully because I could have been wrong, though my gut told me I wasn’t.

He smiled softly. “Yeah, it was me, and you certainly weren’t a dainty flower, were you?”

I didn’t respond. I almost didn’t believe it. He looked nothing like the guy I pictured in my head that night. It’d been so dark, and I’d been so shaken up and scared, I’d never really taken the time to have a good look at the man that saved me.

What were the chances? It was almost impossible to think that man was Marcus Borden, someone I’d always known from afar and had never realized I’d brushed against sometime in my life.

“Why are you crying?” he softly asked, running his thumb across my cheek.

I didn’t even know I was.

“I’m shocked,” I answered him quietly. “I can hardly believe it. I thought about you a lot after that time. When I came to my senses, I realized I owed you my thanks, but I knew I would never be able to pass it along because I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t even remember what you looked like. How did you remember me?”

His smile reached his eyes, and it was the first time I’d seen such a real smile on him. “Because how could I forget eyes like those?”

God, he couldn’t say things like that and not have me tripping over myself. My heart burst in my chest.

He took my arm and pulled me to him, silencing my thoughts with the touch of his lips. Soft and gentle, he deepened it, stroking my tongue with his. Exploring me, unravelling me, all from a simple kiss. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me up the bed, resting me on my back. He was half over me, languidly making out while his hand slowly ventured down the side of my body.

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