Vicious (17 page)

“I didn’t think you’d still be here,” he said.

I shrugged. “Because of the mugging? Everyone hurts me, at least you’re upfront. It saves heartache later on.” I gulped my champagne and the room started to spin.

“Who’s hurt you?” he asked, his voice sounding faint
and far away in my drunken state.

“My mom, Ewa
n, David, Glynn, and even Damon, but I don’t think he meant too. He was just a kid really and I was dumb and thought he loved me. But he obviously didn’t.” I realized two things just then: one, that I was really, really drunk, and secondly, that I was about to cry.  My eyes stung and there was a lump in my throat. I sucked in a breath and widened my eyes in an attempt to stop it. I got to my feet urgently. I couldn’t bear it if I broke down in front of him. “Good night,” I muttered.

I fled to my room, mortified that I would dare to show such weakness. I turned on the sho
wer and shrugged off my clothes.  At least in the shower, I could pretend that my tears weren’t real. I imagined that everything awful was washing off me, but I couldn’t even convince myself. Eventually, I got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around me before lying on the bed, my wet hair soaking the pillows.

Brody gave a swift knock on the door before he entered. “Are you going to be sick?” he asked.

“Nope.” I didn’t move my eyes from the ceiling. “Why did you tell me?”

“Sit up.”

I struggled to a sitting position. He took my towel and started to dry my hair, never speaking. The oddness of the situation didn’t escape me. I felt like a ragdoll, compliant and just not caring. When my hair must have been suitable for his purpose, he scooped me up and carried me to his bedroom. Once there, I curled up and promptly fell asleep.

The worst hangover ever drilled into my head
and I moaned, clutching my head with my hands. Brody sat opposite me at the breakfast table, sipping his coffee and observing me like I was a science project.

“Stop staring,” I muttered.

“I’ve never seen you hung-over before.”

“Well, I hope you don’t ever again.” I gulped down orange juice, but it didn’t quench my thirst. Finally, I pushed my chair away from the table and stood. “I’m going to go for a walk on the beach.”

He put down his coffee cup. “I’ll come with you.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Because it’s my beach. I can walk on it if I want.”

I made a face. “It’s not your beach.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“It is, Violet. I own this.” He spread his arms wide to show the apartment, but maybe he meant the building. “It comes with a private beach.”

“No one ne
eds a private beach. Why do you want a private beach?”

He smiled as he passed me
and opened the door for us. “Because I don’t like to share.”

In the lobby of the building
was a door which led to a path that meandered down the rocks to end on a slice of sandy beach. I kicked off my shoes to walk barefoot on the cool sand and Brody followed suit. We walked side by side for a while, until I finally asked him, “Did you take your medication today?”

“What?” A confused frown
crossed his face.

“You
know, you’re acting nice today. Later, you’ll probably act like a dick again. I assume you’re under a psychiatrist’s care.”

He raised an eyebrow before allowing himself to relax into a grin. “Is that a joke?”

Not really.
“Take it any way you like,” I said casually.

He sighed. “I’m not on medication, Violet.”

“Maybe you should be.” I only just jumped out his way as he half-heartedly kicked sand at me. I let out a slight shriek, which was weird. Very, very weird. We were acting like some kind of happy couple. Maybe I was still drunk…

“Anyway, speaking of crazy, a
re you going to see your mother?”

I snorted.
“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Look, I know that you had some great relationship with your mother and all that, but I didn’t. She’s a nutcase. She doesn’t know who’s who. It’s a waste of time.”

“And what about your father?”

I gave him a sly smile. “Don’t you know? With all of your investigating?”

He frowned slightly.
“I’ll admit my people came up short on that one.”

“Well, don’t blame them. I don’t know who he is either, and I don’t think she does.
Every time I asked I got that same bullshit story.”

“Which was?”

I took a breath. “Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay. She used to say that she was a goddess and my father was a mere mortal. It’s a common thread in mythology. Of course, it’s usually the god that takes some poor mortal maiden to be their lover whether they wanted to or not. I thought it was an awesome story when I was little, now, not so much.”

He d
idn’t laugh, instead he frowned slightly. “Would you prefer your father was some bum who treated her like crap and ditched her once she got pregnant? I think the story’s nice. It’s romantic.”

I stopped and he stopped with me as I looked into his eyes. “I guess it is,” I said

The drive to the Mer
os’ lake house took a couple of hours. I could feel that Brody was tense as he drove and it surprised me that he did what his father wanted.

“Did you go there when you were a kid?” I asked him after the
silence had stretched on too long.

“I never went anywhere when I was
a kid, he didn’t acknowledge me until I was thirteen. Lisa made him buy the place. She thinks that it’s aristocratic to have a house on this particular lake. All of her charity friends do or something. Personally, I think it’s a waste of land. If it were up to me, I’d bulldoze the house and build a hotel there.”

Bu
t when we got there, I found myself on Lisa’s side. It was gorgeous, with willow trees framing the lake; their branches dipping and swaying into the water in the slight breeze. The house itself was old, and held an elegance that I had never seen. I imagined that at one stage it would have been staffed by numerous servants while wonderful parties were held out on the lawn which led a manicured path down to the water. He pulled the car to a stop next to a Mercedes.

“Looks like it’s just the four of us,” he said in an unhappy tone.

I touched his hand, and he flinched, his eyes darting to me. “Maybe it will be okay,” I told him, even giving him a slight smile.

He nodded, looking unsure, before he got out of the car. Lisa met us on the steps. “Welcome!” she
beamed, her painted mouth smiling widely as she brushed her cheek against mine. “I’m so glad you guys came.”

I managed to smile at her, while
Brody just grunted as he pushed his way past with our bags. “I’ve put you in the Blue room,” she called after him, struggling to keep her smile at his frosty greeting. She let the smile fade as he disappeared into the house, looking at me and shrugging. “What can you do?” Then she followed suit. She seemed genuinely sad, and I wondered if she regretted the fact that she had ever let Brody go.

The interior was beautiful, with warm polished wood
the dominant material. A fire roared in the large room to the left, while on the right, Lisa explained was the kitchen and dining room. The bedrooms were upstairs. “Third door on the left is where the two of you are staying,” she informed me with fake cheeriness. “Why don’t you come down and have a drink with us once you’re settled.” Michael Mero came through from the kitchen area then, he gave me a stern nod of the head and shook my hand before he passed by me.

I found Brody lying on the bed, he hadn’t bothered to kick of
f his shoes as he lay there staring at the ceiling. I sat down beside him, watching him until he sighed and sat up. “This is going to be a very long weekend.”

I gave his leg a quick squeeze, before I started
to get changed. “No,” he said as I pulled out a clean skirt. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me onto his lap. “Let’s screw first.”

“They’re waiting for us,” I protested, even though the caress on my waist made me want to do nothing more that have him slip inside me.

“I don’t care.” He kissed me on the mouth, and I kissed back just as hungrily.  I had come to enjoy kissing him.

He swiftly flipp
ed me over so I was beneath him, before he lifted my leg over his shoulder and proceeded to eat me out. I clamped my hand over my mouth so they wouldn’t hear me downstairs, and even more so when he entered me.

By the time we made it downstairs, I was sure that I had a la
zy and satisfied smile on my mouth. I managed to pull it into that solid, grim line that mimicked Brody’s. But I couldn’t keep it like that the minute we entered the living room.

It should have been a cosy, family scene. There was a roa
ring fire, overstuffed couches, and a bar filled with liquor bottles of every color.

But what I didn’t expect to see there was
him
.

He was dressed nicer that I was used to. Even though he wore black pants and a black t-shirt, they screamed money
and quality. His eyes were firmly on me, if there was surprise in his eyes I didn’t see it. In fact, I read nothing in his eyes, whether joy or displeasure. As for myself, my own body was threatening to fail on me and my heart started to beat at an uncontrollable pace and my mouth was so dry that I didn’t feel that I would ever be able to swallow again. Everything seemed frozen in time.

“Look who managed to join us
after all,” Lisa said brightly, her voice cracking through the moment. “This is Michael’s youngest son, Damon. Damon this is Brody’s…
friend
, Violet.”

“Oh, I think Damon already knows Violet,” Brody added in a tone than mimicked Lisa’s faux brightness.
I nearly flinched at his voice —he knew, of course he did, he seemed to know everything.

Damon’s eyes darted quickly to his brother’s, the only thing I saw there was dislike. Damon lifted his drink to his lips and took a sip before nodding his head in my
direction. “Violet, how are you?” That stiff, formal tone came from a stranger.

“Good. And you?” I made sure that I sounded just as he did. He had made it clear where we stood.

“Damon’s great. Aren’t you, little brother? He’s just been made heir to my father’s empire. There’s nothing he shouldn’t be unhappy about.” Brody clapped a hand on his shoulder as he passed him going to the bar. He started to mix himself a drink. Lisa stood there, looking perplexed.

“Brody is so rude sometimes. Violet
, would you like a glass of wine?” she asked me.

“Relax. I’m getting it,” Brody muttered to her

Michael Mero relaxed in an armchair. “I’ll need to speak to you two both later,” he said to his sons, and then to me, “take a seat, Violet.”

I sat as far away from Damon as I could. Part of me wanted to look over every inch of him, to make sure that he was real, and in one piece. I wanted to admire his beauty…but knew that if I did, all those old feelings might rise up and I had to swallow them down before they ripped me apart like daggers in my heart.
The other part of me felt cold, this wasn’t a coincidence, was it?

Lisa dominated the conversation. I could see why men were attracted
to her, other than because of her looks, of course. She was bright, bubbly, charming and entertaining. She even made Michael Mero smile, something that caught me off guard, because thus far I had thought the man incapable of it. Still, when he instructed his sons to meet him in the study, I was glad that he was going. His presence felt like a thick, foreboding force in the room, and I didn’t like it.

The minute the three of them
disappeared, Lisa moved to sit beside me, topping up my wine and her own. “So, that was a just a
little
bit awkward but I think I can figure it out. Damon and you are ex-lovers, am I right?” she asked teasingly.

I
kept my face still. “In high school, which doesn’t really count. That was a long time ago.”

Her eyes were on me like an eagle
’s, there was no fooling her. “Actually,” she said softly. “I think it does count. It makes sense now, why Brody moved you into his home. He’s never done that before. But he’s clever, he found out who you were to Damon and he acted on it.”

I gave a sigh. Deep down I knew it was true.
“Why does Brody hate Damon?”

“Jealousy.
Damon is Michael’s legitimate son, and Michael adored Damon’s mother. Brody’s mother was just some Russian whore who got knocked up and wouldn’t have an abortion. Michael took him in after the mother died though. Believe it or not, he’s big on family. But Damon is the favorite, the golden child, and no matter what Brody does, he will never measure up.”

I turned and studied her, she looked a little flushed and I wondered how much wine she had drunken before we got there. “Why did you marry a man like that?” I asked her softly. “He seems so cold and…scary.”