In Wicked Chains (The Wicked) (9 page)

“You have until midday.” Niko hung up.

King dropped his phone on the seat next to him, knuckles white as he clenched his fists.

She left, without a word. He hopped out of the truck and ran upstairs, looking for a note, a sign, a clue.

He found nothing.

The bed was made, room pristine except for the faint musk of sex, their sex.

Her MP3 sat on his night table. Guess she forgot that in her hurry. King sank down on the edge of the bed. He should’ve left a note, should’ve told her he’d only be gone for a short while.

He came back with the intent of talking the serious talk, about them, about the words she spoke last night.
Te Amo.

Guess they carried no weight in the light of day, when he wasn’t bringing her to orgasm. He picked up his house phone, to call her, question her actions, but decided against it.

Retracing his steps, he got back into his car and headed to Sasha’s house, to turn his sister’s world upside down.

* * * *

Niko let Kingston into the house, the bald man’s expression somber.

“Where is she?” Kingston handed over the coffee he brought and walked into the foyer.

“Kitchen.” Niko closed the door and motioned King forward. “She’s expecting you.”

Kingston rubbed a hand over his jaw. “What did you tell her?” He did not anticipate this conversation. Stubborn Sasha wouldn’t want to wait around for Earl. She’d insist on finding him pronto.

Shrugging, Niko walked past him. “I told her you wanted to talk about something important.”

King grunted as they entered the kitchen. Sasha sat on one of the high stools surrounding the marble island, munching on bacon and talking on the phone. He walked up to her, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Hey.”

She held up a finger and continued on her call. “Yes, lilacs. Two bouquets delivered to the address I gave you. Uh-huh. Yes, the note should say exactly that. Thank you.” She ended the call and met King’s eyes. “What’s up?”

Kingston gulped, his stomach churned. “We, ah. We need to talk.”

“I got that part.” She took the cup of coffee Niko offered and sipped. “What do we have to talk about? Did you go to Elina and fix whatever you did like I told you to?”

“I did, but this isn’t about that.” He didn’t want to think about her reaction if she ever found out he slept with her best friend. Meeting Niko’s eyes, Kingston cleared his throat and took a seat beside Sasha. He held her hand.

“Jesus. King, what is it? You look…scared.” Sasha snatched her hand from him, gaze darting from him to Niko and back. “What the hell is going on?”

Niko smoothed a hand down her back. “Babe, let your brother speak.”

She narrowed her eyes. “One of you better start talking.”

“I’ve been getting hang-up calls on my cell phone lately,” King said softly. “Maysin put a trace on it and it led to Earl.”

Sasha stiffened. “Earl your father, Earl?” Her tone was soft, dangerous.

“Yes. I suspected it was him before Maysin confirmed it. I saw him in my neighborhood last week, standing at the side of the road with his hands in his pockets. Today he said he’d been watching the club, watching you.”

She hopped off the stool. The white, long-sleeved shirt she wore hung to mid-thigh. Shoving a hand through her hair, she paced the wood floors on bare feet. “How did Earl get your number?”

“Don’t know. I’m not in the book so he’d have to really be looking.” Kingston got up and went to her. “I’m sorry.”

She swung her angry gaze to him. “Why are you sorry?”

“He’s not done torturing us and I know he’s only alive because he’s my father.” He looked at Niko when he spoke the last part.

“No.” Sasha shook her head. “You’ve done nothing wrong. We can’t help who gave birth to us. When did you see Earl?”

“I went to his house this morning.”

“Hmm.” She twisted the black Tungsten ring on her left index. “He’s still thinking of me, is he?”

Kingston touched her shoulder, surprised by the tiny tremors running under his palm. He tightened his hold on her. “He was at the club. He watched you, told me I wasn’t doing a good job protecting you.”

She laughed. The low sound slithered over Kingston’s skin. Niko brushed past him and gathered Sasha into his arms.

“Let’s go into the living room, babe.”

“No.” She pushed Niko away and turned to Kingston with overly bright eyes. “Only place I’m going is to find that slimy fuck and put him out of his misery. He’s not allowed to threaten me, to resurrect all those old wounds.” Her voice shook.

“He doesn’t have the power to resurrect anything,” Niko told her. “Only you can do that.”

“He tried to rape me! I was fourteen, a kid. A lonely kid and he preyed on that.”

Kingston stood still as she screamed, his hands clenched at his sides. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of the stain on his soul, of his father’s sins. Sasha got away, but they didn’t know who else was victim to Earl’s sickness.

“Babe.” Niko pulled her into his arms again. “He tried, but you stopped him. That fourteen-year-old kid stopped him, remember that. You’re stronger than him, always have been. And if he decides to come looking for you, we’ll be here waiting. Both of us.”

Sasha clutched Niko’s shoulders. “He has to be stopped,” she whispered.

“He will be,” Kingston promised. “You have your happiness here.” He choked up. “You’re finally happy and I won’t allow him to take it away.” Turning his back, he walked out the kitchen and exited the house.

* * * *

“Ms. Royce, you have a delivery.”

Harper Royce looked up at the knock on her office door. “Come in, Natalia.” Her secretary came in, carrying a huge bouquet of lilacs. Harper frowned. “Who’s it from?”

Natalia shrugged. “I haven’t looked at the card.” She placed the flowers on Harper’s desk. “Do you want me to?”

“Uh, no. That’s okay, Natalia. Thanks.”

“There are actually two bouquets, but there’s no card on the other one.” Natalia backed toward the door. “Should I bring it in here, too?”

“That’s not necessary, keep it outside.” Harper waved her out and waited until the door closed behind the young woman before she opened the plain white card.

You never asked, he never volunteered: Maysin
Winthrop-Ferreira
. Followed by a phone number and address.

She flung the card away, gaze clinging to it as it floated to the floor beside her desk. Heart pounding out of her chest, Harper swallowed a moan. She’d tried her best to put him from her mind, a battle she always ended up losing, and here he was, torturing her, constantly taking over her thoughts, her fantasies.

It’d all still been harmless when she didn’t know his name. And wasn’t that ironic? She’d fallen in love with a scarred face and a heated touch, knowing nothing about the man who occupied her dreams helped to keep her sane.

Who sent this? Who knew about them?

Was it Maysin? Did he want her to call him, drop in on him sometime? He knew her position on them being together, knew it wouldn’t work. She didn’t think this was his doing. He would personalize it, she hoped.

But this meant someone else knew about them, knew her heart.

Harper picked up the phone on her desk with trembling fingers, punching in the numbers she’d already committed to memory. It meant nothing, only that she had a good memory.

Listening to The Notorious BIG’s
Who Shot Ya?
as Maysin’s call-tone, the phone shook against her ear. Butterflies wreaked havoc in her tummy.

“Yeah.”

Harper broke out in cold sweats. Tears burned her eyes at the familiar voice, and the way he affected her.

She whimpered.

“Hello?” Annoyance crept into his voice. “This isn’t the phone you want to play on, fucker. Speak or I hang up. Now.”

She jerked at his barked words. “Maysin.” Shit, she couldn’t hear her own voice over the beating of her heart. “Maysin.”
There.
Clear enough to make out the needy, pleading tone.

He inhaled. Loudly. “Harper.” It wasn’t a question. He recognized her voice.

And suddenly she couldn’t find hers. The phone threatened to slip from her slippery palm, and her body reacted to the sound of her name on his lips with tightening nipples, dampening panties.

“Harper.” Her name shook. “Speak to me. Please.”

Speak.
Say what, that she loved him, needed him? Should she come clean about being blackmailed into marrying a man she dreamt of killing in his sleep?

“I miss you, Harper. I miss your touch and the taste of your lips. The sounds you make.”

A groan left her throat. Her fingers tightened around the phone. She wanted to hang up, wanted to demand he come free her, rescue her from the ties keeping them apart. She wanted, but never could have.

Tears dripped off her chin. “I miss you, too.” She closed her eyes, called up the crystal clear image of that rugged face, beautifully scarred. The green eyes that saw into her soul and the long hair.
So soft.
“Maysin.”

“I’m here, love. Always here. Are you okay?” His concern humbled her, touched her heart.

“Someone knows about us.”

“What?” His voice rose. “Who?”

“I don’t know.” She twisted a finger around the telephone coil. “Two bouquets of lilacs were delivered to my office.”

“Your favorite.” That deep tone dropped lower, driving chills down her spine.

Her eyes widened. “Yes. How do you know what?”

He chuckled. “They’re all over your house and the fragrance clings to your hair and skin. It blends with the jasmine lotion you wear, making you smell just…eatable.”

Harper licked her lips with a shudder. “I-I, um. So the flowers came with a card.”

“What does it say?”

“
You never asked, he never volunteered
. Plus your name, number, and address.”

Silence filled the moment between them.

“You didn’t know my name before now?”

“Only your first name.” She shrugged. “I never bothered to ask…”

“And I never volunteered.” He exhaled. “How is that even possible? How could I not have given you my information?”

She cut off his self-berating. “I-we were always um, not focused on that.” They were always humping each other, is what she meant to say, losing themselves in the uncontrollable pull.

“Yes. We were always…focused on other things.”

She chewed her bottom lip.

“What’s the name of the florist on the card?”

“Diamond Floral Arrangements.” She repeated the address to him as well. “What are you going to do?”

“Figure out who sent the flowers, which in turn will tell me who knows about us.”

“Okay.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Is there an us, Harper?”

“Maysin, you know the answer to that.”

“Do I? If Mercier wasn’t in the picture, if you weren’t marrying him, would there be an us? Would I be holding you and making love to you, or would I still be relegated to images of you in my head to bring myself off?”

“Don’t think of me,” she hissed. “Don’t think of me when you’re with someone else.”

“Who says I’ve been with anyone else since that first night?” he shot back. “Who says I’m not still waiting for you? Hoping you’d want me more than you fear him?”

Jesus.
She shook her head. “No. Waiting is a waste of time, Maysin. Don’t wait for me. I’ll never come.”

He chuckled dryly. “Ah, Harper. I’ve told myself that a million times. I’ve forced myself to date other women, even called one your name while she blew me. Yet here we are.”

She choked back the hurt and feelings of betrayal at his confession. “You fucked somebody else?” Why was she so angry? They’d staked no claims.
She
was already taken.

“Sure as hell can’t have you, now can I?”

The heavy sarcasm couldn’t be missed, but the words tore her apart.

“No, you can’t have me. Want to know why?” She spoke in an even tone, the one she used in the courtroom, “There’s no us, just a few stolen moments when I allowed myself to forget who I am. That’s it,” she yelled. “That’s the extent of it and now it’s done. Over. For good.” She slammed down the phone and burst into tears.

Chapter Seven

Elina stayed away from everyone for two days, ignoring calls and emails. She went to work on the third day, immersing herself in those kids she loved so much and sharing a few laughs with her co-worker, glad for the reprieve from thoughts of Kingston.

She pushed him to the back of her mind. The only place he could be if she ever wanted to function again. No sleep came to her at night. Nightmares kept her up and she couldn’t find her mp3 player. Most likely she’d left it at Kingston’s place.