Fighting Fate (2 page)

With what little space she had, she managed to bring her hand across his face in a half-force slap and his lip curled to display a perverted satisfaction. Then jerking forward he snatched her hands and slammed them to the concrete that they leaned on.

‘You want to get physical with me, you minx, then you better be damn sure about it.’

‘Get off of me,’ she protested, trying to wrench herself free, but to no avail.

‘Mr Stark likes a show,’ he said, her feeble struggling meant nothing to him. ‘Should I take you back upstairs and show him how compliant you can be when you’re getting what you want?’

‘What I want is for you to let me go and get lost.’

‘You’re lucky that you’re not my type.’

‘Oh yeah? And who is? I imagine that the only women you get near are the unconscious ones your buddy is through with after about thirty-five seconds.’

‘Women like you deserve every damn thing that they get,’ he said, squashing her body deeper against the wall, making no disguise of his arousal that imprinted itself on her belly.

The disgust she’d felt at Trystan’s violation was absent here. This man should repulse her in the same amount, and yet this verbal sparring coupled with the occasional lingering stares they’d shared upstairs sent her curious hormones into overdrive. She was angry and intimidated by this unknown human variable, but she wasn’t afraid.

Long ago she had learned how to quash ineffectual fear and channel the useful adrenaline into fight rather than flight. Bullies only won if victims lost their wits, and she would never do that, not again.

‘And men like you eventually lose their power. When your physical strength fades you’ll be left with nothing, and that vulnerability will ruin you, you’ll self-destruct.’

‘Said the voice of experience,’ he said, then shoved away. ‘Think twice before you insult those who are more important than you are.’

‘Thanks for the advice,’ she said without concealing her disdain.

‘You better hope you never hear of the Stark’s again. If Trystan decides to come after you, to punish you, then you’ll have no hope of escape.’

‘Like I said, I can take care of myself.’

‘You better hope so, because on my side of the fence, there’s no mercy.’

‘I’m shaking with fear,’ she said with no sincerity.

‘You will be.’

The liquid ocean in his eyes coated her figure, then he turned and stalked toward the opposite end of the alley. A few seconds later, he was out of sight.

Men rarely intrigued her anymore, not in the way that one had. But the fantasy of mystery surrounding him would never live up to the reality, because nothing ever did. Just the company he kept was evidence enough that the mysterious stranger wasn’t sane or reliable and she was too old for adventures of the heart with bad boy types, she’d gotten over that adolescent illusion a long time ago.

Facing her roommate wasn’t something that Ivy wanted to deal with now, but unfortunately it was unavoidable. Their one bedroom apartment was in a rough area not too far from The Strip. It smelled of mold and sweat, and the windows were covered with lengths of material pinned to the wall that had been there since she moved in with Trudi. The rent was cheap and the neighbours kept to themselves. Though the streets were filled with gangs, and hookers, and drugs, these were all things that Ivy was accustomed too.

The tension of the day expelled from her lungs and she sank onto the couch. Trudi bounced out of the bedroom, which didn’t have a door on it, hooking one of her shoes onto her feet.

‘That was quick,’ Trudi said. ‘How did you get home so fast?’

‘I got fired,’ Ivy said, spreading her hands and her head dropped onto the back of the couch.

‘Oh, shit,’ Trudi said. ‘You want to take a shower and come out with me?’

‘No,’ Ivy said.

‘I know a guy who’ll look after you.’

‘How many times have I told you not to tie yourself to a pimp?’ Ivy said.

‘You don’t know what it’s like out there on the streets. It’s dangerous nowadays.’

‘I know it’s dangerous,’ Ivy said. ‘But you don’t need anyone taking your money away from you.’

‘Not now that my roommate has lost her job. You think you can go straight, but you can’t. It’s no way as easy as that. You held onto that job for a month, the one before that was two weeks. You’ve lived here for nine months and you’ve never had a job for more than two months.’

‘Not your problem,’ Ivy said. ‘I’ve never missed rent, have I?’

‘We’re in Vegas, girls like us, from the streets, we make money one way. You’re no better than the rest of us, Ivy. I know you try to stay legit, but…’

‘I am not walking the street, Trud, things haven’t got that bad.’

‘Maybe not yet,’ Trudi said, scooping condoms out of the drawer under the coffee table. ‘You know where I’ll be if you change your mind.’

Trudi was a pretty girl who’d made some bad decisions in her life. Her drug habit was moderated by the various men who came and went from her life, but Ivy knew she never stayed stable for long. In her own life she’d travelled from city to city and done just about every job there was, but streetwalking was a last resort that she’d managed to avoid so far, though she’d done just about everything else.

Just once she’d like to catch a break, and her private concierge job at the GoldSpring had been the best job she’d had so far, except now she’d lost it. So she was back to square one. Trudi wasn’t too disheartened and was already singing as she headed out the door. How she could be so happy when she was going out to sell her body was a mystery to Ivy. She had never been content with her lot in life, she didn’t want money and riches; she just wanted to belong, to know that she would be ok and that she wasn’t alone. That dream seemed to be getting more distant every day.

At the Stark mansion, where Trystan lived with his father and brother, there were plenty of trusted staff to run around after the youngest Stark boy, who had never quite managed to grow up. Dax had never intended to find himself in the unofficial role of Trystan’s minder, but he had. While he succeeded in delegating the babysitting duties from time to time, he still had to do it far more than he would ever choose to.

For most of the night he’d been in Trystan’s suite of rooms in the Stark mansion listening to him go on about how much of a bust Vegas was.

‘You’re letting it get to you,’ Dax said, glancing toward the window in Trystan’s private drawing room. ‘It’s been a week, forget about it.’

‘No,’ Trystan said, filling his Scotch tumbler again. ‘That’s what she wants. It snowballs, you know that. My father always taught us—‘

‘Disrespect is the greatest enemy,’ Dax muttered.

Over the years he’d spent cleaning up Trystan’s messes he’d gotten used to how the brat could become fixated, especially when it came to getting his own way. But Dax owed the Stark’s a lot, he wasn’t blood, yet Maurice Stark treated him as kin. Making sure that Trystan didn’t get himself into too much trouble, obvious trouble at least, had become second nature to him, because the kid couldn’t keep his nose clean. He didn’t realise that all the attention he brought on the family affected the family business negatively. The last thing they needed was anyone in law enforcement looking too closely into how the family made their money.

‘Women don’t say no to me, do you know how long it’s been since one turned me down?’

Dax didn’t want to be the one to point out that most of the women in Trystan’s life either wanted to use him for his family connections, or were paid to enjoy Trystan’s company, so of course they weren’t going to say no to him.

‘You should think about settling down,’ Dax said, though it was the furthest thing from his own mind and he was a year older than Trystan.

Trystan snorted, and collapsed into the wingback chair opposite Dax’s. ‘You sound like Mauri, he was saying the same thing to me last night.’

‘It’s not a bad plan,’ Dax said. ‘You get yourself hitched then you’ve got a woman who’ll never say no to you, or disrespect you.’

‘Yeah right, a wife would probably be worse!’

‘Not if you get the right one,’ Dax said, allowing a smile to twist one corner of his lips. ‘And train her right.’

Trystan swirled the liquid then took a long gulp. ‘The only woman I’ll marry is one who’ll let me keep partying.’

‘Who will let you screw around and sample the Stark family product? I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who would put up with that to get a taste of the high life that you can offer.’

‘I don’t want a cheap whore,’ Trystan objected. ‘She’d have to be faithful and obedient. I don’t want some whiny bitch who is on me all the time. She would have to keep her mouth shut while I treat her like shit, but serve me and put out when I’m on a come down.’

He wasn’t asking too much, Dax tried not to shake his head or roll his eyes. ‘Your father would be able to hook you up.’

‘An arranged marriage? I don’t think so,’ Trystan said. ‘But it would get the old man off my back for a while if I knocked up some girl and left her at home to bring up the kids. Dad thinks that kids will straighten me out.’

It was difficult to imagine Trystan with children; he didn’t have much wise, worldly wisdom to pass on. ‘Maybe it will, Maurice has a way of knowing how to solve a problem.’

‘Think I’m a problem?’ Trystan asked, Dax recognised the teasing and when Trystan gazed out of the window, Dax could tell that he was cooking up a scheme.

‘What are you planning?’

‘Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone,’ Trystan said, knocking back the rest of the liquor and standing up. ‘Wait here, I’m going to talk to Mauri, then we’re going to hit the clubs.’

Great. Trystan left the room and Dax closed his eyes. He couldn’t actually be bothered with nightclubs tonight. He’d hoped to have a night to himself so he could pursue his own interests, but Trystan had a way of sensing when Dax was getting fed up with him, and that was usually when he pushed to have Dax spend more time in his company. The guy just couldn’t take the hint, and to say he held a grudge was a massive understatement. Making others unhappy for his own benefit was Trystan’s greatest pleasure and achievement.

Ivy had done the rounds in the town and she got the usual offer of jobs, which was in the strip joints. This was a town that attracted young, beautiful women as though this was the place all of them belonged. The airport and bus station spawned new hopefuls every day. In this world famous city there was no shortage of spritely females in need of money, and that meant there weren’t always enough to go around.

Strip joints could offer her good money, but she hadn’t worked in one for years, because there was no chance of progression. Being there was as good as admitting that you were only as good as the breasts on your body and she didn’t want to simply be employed because god had graced her with a generous pair.

Trudi was harping on about rent because Ivy had used the last of her savings to cover the money that was due now. If she didn’t find some form of employment this week then she would never be able to cover bills next week.

Poring over the newspaper, which was laid out on the coffee table, she circled possibilities and would trek to the payphone on the corner when it was time to begin phoning. Those that she could visit on foot she would, the last thing she was afraid of was a bit of exercise.

Trudi burst into the apartment waving a flyer, which she threw at Ivy, sending it fluttering onto the newspaper she’d been reading. ‘What’s this?’ Ivy asked, picking up the piece of yellow paper and reading an advert for a swingers club. ‘Uh, there’s no way—‘

‘Not that, on the back,’ Trudi said, sitting on the couch at Ivy’s back to tug off her boots. On the back of the flyer was an address, phone number, and another number beneath it.

‘What is this?’

‘I had a client last night and—‘

‘I’m not interested in hooking, Trud—‘

‘I know,’ Trudi tutted. ‘But his boss is looking for a live-in housekeeper, it’s the real deal. I mean I could never put up with that kind of crap, the “yes, sir, no, sir,” stuff. But you could and look at the starting salary!’

‘I don’t know,’ Ivy said, reading the number at the bottom, the salary was attractive. ‘What kind of place is it? Maybe they’ll expect extras, you know? If his employees use your services…’

‘Please,’ Trudi scoffed. ‘Have you ever met a guy in Vegas who doesn’t use sex services? I don’t think so. This is just perfect for you and I would think you should be more grateful that I thought of you.’

Ivy knew that she and Trudi hadn’t seen eye-to-eye much, especially recently, but she didn’t think the woman was so eager to have her out. ‘I guess I could call and see what it’s about. The address isn’t too far so I’d still be in Vegas.’

‘Right,’ Trudi said, standing to begin shedding her clothes as she headed for the bathroom. ‘And Carlos says I could start seeing clients here at home and that would help with the rent. I mean there’s only one bedroom, so it would be cool to live alone, right?’

Trudi didn’t wait for an answer, she went into the bathroom and the shower came on in the next minute. Reading the newspaper adverts again and then the back of the flyer Trudi had brought in, she considered both. Deciding that there was no harm in calling and finding out what was expected of her in the housekeeping role, she gathered up everything she would need and headed out to use the payphone.

Getting a job and more importantly, getting paid, was the only priority right now. The truth was that unless it was linked to something sinister she’d happily take a job where she got paid and got somewhere to live into the bargain. But if it was as good a deal as Trudi thought then there would be several applicants. Hopefully Trudi had given Ivy a bit of an inside edge on the others, she had a personal connection, and got this tip before others knew the job was available.

In the blazing heat, she picked up her pace down the sidewalk determining that the housekeeper call would be the first one she made. She’d have a conversation and do everything that she could to prove she was a hard worker then if all parties were happy she’d get to work. Feeling more optimistic, Ivy felt like she’d caught a bit of a break for the first time in a long time.

Not long after his conversation with Mauri, Trystan had announced that he was taking an extended vacation to Europe. For around two months he would be off this continent, and on hearing the news Dax had sighed in relief. Trystan didn’t pack his own suitcases, there was no need for him to because there was plenty of staff for that, just like there was plenty of money for him to spend as much time overseas as he wanted.

Vegas hadn’t provided Trystan the rest and recuperation he felt that he deserved. Trystan valued his vacation time, so he wouldn’t have it snatched from him because of an altercation with ungrateful Vegas hotel staff. So two weeks after Vegas, a week after their conversation in Trystan’s room, the playboy was on a plane over the Atlantic on his way to party his way across another land mass.

Dax wasn’t going to Europe, work still needed to be done here. So at the moment, he was seated in Maurice Stark’s office in the mansion with others in the Stark’s squad, awaiting instructions. Maurice was Trystan’s father. He had two living sons, Trystan and Brad. Brad, the eldest, followed in daddy’s footsteps and was a chip off the old block when it came to the family business. All Trystan wanted to do was spend the money his father and brother made, he was spoiled, but they seemed ok with that – as long as he stayed out of trouble and didn’t draw attention to them.

Dax had been raised in the Stark family since he was thirteen years old when he had been caught stealing from the old man. He’d been forgiven the slight on the proviso that Dax started working for the Stark’s. Twenty years later and he was still part of Mauri’s crew.

As was usual at the start of the month he and the other dozen privileged guys were seated around in Maurice’s office waiting for updates and instructions. Bruno was Maurice’s right hand man, he was in his late fifties and had worked with Maurice since his grandfather ran the operation. He dispensed with half a dozen of the guys and then Brad came in to update everyone on the next shipment and handed out assignments until Dax was the only one left with Bruno and Brad.

‘What’s going on?’ Dax asked, remaining seated in the high back chair near the double doors of Maurice’s office.

‘We’ve got a special assignment for you, Dax,’ Bruno said, finishing up something at the desk.

Being the unofficial third son, Dax had done everything the old man had ever asked of him and knew more family secrets than Trystan did. So whatever was about to be asked of him, he had no doubts that he would go along with it

‘What is it?’

‘We’re going away together,’ Bruno said. ‘Alone.’

He never worked alone with Bruno, this had to be big. ‘Keep going,’ Dax said.

‘It’s Tryst,’ Brad said, coming over and pulling up a chair opposite him. ‘Dad wants him married and straightened out, he’s getting himself into too many scrapes.’

‘I know that, Trystan told me but do you think there’s a woman alive who can do that? Or that would put up with him? I heard his demands.’

‘We came to a compromise,’ Brad said. ‘He’ll get married if we make sure his pick won’t give him an earache.’

‘He wants to party, sleep around, and carry on as usual,’ Dax said, recalling what had been said in his suite.

‘My father thinks that having kids will show him responsibility,’ Brad said, his tone conveying that he wasn’t as convinced.

‘Where will you find a woman to do that? Put up with a cheater who’ll abuse her? Have his kids and toe the family line by not complaining? You’ll have to pay her a lot.’

‘Not pay, train,’ Bruno said, leaving the desk. He came over and rested a hand on the back of Brad’s chair. ‘Trystan said that you put the idea into his head. He talked to Mauri about it, he’ll get married like Mauri wants him to, if the wife will do what she’s told and when.’

‘If Mauri can’t promise that the girl will do that then Trystan gets out of the marriage?’

‘It’s win-win for Trystan,’ Brad said. ‘I guarantee that’s what my brother is thinking. He thinks that dad will never be able to pull it off.’

‘He wants to humiliate Mauri?’ Dax asked, Mauri didn’t take being made a fool of lightly so Trystan would be on shaky ground if he set the old man up.

‘No,’ Brad said. ‘He just doesn’t want to settle down. If the girl does what she’s told then he gets to order her around and give her grief. If she doesn’t, then he doesn’t have to marry her.’

‘Win-win,’ Dax muttered. ‘So if Trystan is so sure he won’t have to change his ways, why is Mauri pushing for it?’

‘Dad is sure that having kids will change Trystan’s outlook.’

‘So each is sure of their own position,’ Dax said, both father and son were as arrogant as each other.

‘Trystan’s been pissed off for a couple of weeks, you know why,’ Bruno said.