Boxed Set: Traitorous Heart Volumes 1-6 (The Traitorous Heart Series) (20 page)

There was a knock on the door. Nichole opened it.

“You ready to fuck my wet pussy, Griffy?”

I took out my wallet and removed a condom. She lifted her tight white mini skirt, revealing her naked pussy. A small rectangular patch of hair was above her clit. I didn’t understand that. Either let it grow or shave it off.

She slid a finger inside herself. Pulled it out and sucked on it. “I’m so wet for you.”

I undid my pants and applied the condom, then turned her around. “Bend over, Nichole.” I grabbed her ass, squeezing hard.

“Oooh, you know I like that.”  I heard her purse open. She handed back a butt plug. It was the size of my cock.

I took it. “I know.”

She bent over, shaking her ass in the air. Her asshole was nearly as big as the other hole. I spit on the plug and used my finger to lubricate it. Then I pressed it inside.

She moaned. “That’s it Griffy. Now fuck my pussy. Make me come all over your cock.”

I shoved my dick into her, grabbing hold of her hips. Riding her hard, slamming into her. I knew the act was slamming the butt plug deep into her ass as well. Double penetration was her favorite kind of sex. This way was almost as good for her.

“You like it rough, don’t ya Nic? Wanna take it in the ass and the pussy. How’s that feel?”

“
So
good.” She grabbed hold of the wall. I shoved deeper into her.

“You want your pussy slapped?”

“Uh-huh. Hard.”

I reached under her and slapped her clit.  It’d been pierced for added pleasure.

She moaned. “Again.”

I spanked her clit again. Harder. And then again. And again.

She was panting hard.  “Go deeper.”

I spread her pussy lips and rammed her.

“Fuck me. Awww, fuck me hard. Don’t stop. I’m close.”

I kept going, harder and faster. A sheen of sweat built along my hairline. 

I felt her tighten and then cry out. I kept going. I wasn’t done with her. I grabbed her waist, pulling her hard against my cock.

She was moaning. Lost in her own ecstasy. She’d unbuttoned her shirt and was pinching her nipples. I knew both were pierced as well as her tongue.

I kept going, working my dick deep until I found my release.

Finished, I pulled out, tossing the used condom in the trash. I tucked and zipped, then I washed my hands and used a paper towel to dab the edges of my hair. Took a deep breath.

Nichole came up behind me, her hands on my chest. “That was incredible, Griffy. See? We’ll make a great husband and wife. When you going to make it official?”

Fuck.

I turned, taking her hands in mine. “I’m not even thirty. A man has to sow his wild oats before he settles down.” 

She pouted, sticking out her bottom lip.

“You really don’t want to get married yet, do you? I know you’ve still got a lot of oats to sow as well.” I winked.

Nichole smiled. “You’re right. And besides, you won’t fuck me with another man. I can’t live without that.”

“See?” I said. “We aren’t meant for each other.” I squeezed her hands. “We’re friends.”

“Yeah, fucking friends,” she said, snorting.

I smiled. “You ready?”

“No. Go ahead. I’ve got to clean up.”

“All right.” I dropped her hands. “Thanks,” I added.

“You’re fucking welcome,” she laughed.

CHAPTER 9

Katie

I complete
d
a thorough search of Birdy’s room and her purses. She had at least a hundred. It was well after seven when I finished. My efforts had been worth it.

I’d found several parking stubs. All from the same place. I figured it was a club of some kind, but I’d never heard of it. A quick phone call advised it wasn’t anything I was used to. I’d look it up on the computer later to see what I could find.

I also found her journal. It was sitting on the table next to my turkey sandwich. Made of black leather, the cream pages looked worn. Even without opening it I could tell it was nearly full. Secret, private words. She’d kept a lot from me. I worried that I didn’t know her at all. Was she capable of killing? She was certainly capable of keeping big secrets.

We were half sisters! I mean, that was huge. And my parents had kept it secret as well. I really wanted to talk to my mom. I dialed her number.

On the second ring she answered. “This is a nice surprise,” she said.

I swallowed, searching for a way to bring up such a huge deal.

“Dandelion?”

I cringed. “How are you?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“Good. Really good. How are you?”

I poured myself some more wine. It was my second bottle. “I’ve been better,” I finally blurted.

“What’s up?” she asked. Her voice was always so fucking calm. It drove me crazy sometimes. Like right then.

“It’s Birdy.”

“What about her?” More fucking calm.

“She’s my sister.”

My mom gasped.

Ha, that’ll teach her,
I thought. I waited for her to respond.

“How did you find out?” she asked.

I chugged down my wine. “I found her birth certificate.” I lit up a cigarette, didn’t give a fuck that I was inside, and took a long drag. Then I felt bad and went to the window over the sink and opened it. I blew out. Shit, I was too fucking nice.

My father asked my mom what was wrong. She told him that I knew.

“Let me talk to her,” my dad said. “Hey Katie. How you doing?”

I took another long drag.  Blew out. “How do you think I’m fucking doing?”

“Language,” my mom said.

“I’m sorry. Really.”

Tears pricked my lashes. My hands shook as a whole slew of emotions wracked my body at once. “Why did you keep this from me? That’s fuc—cold.”

“At first it was because you were such an open spirit. When you were little you told everyone everything. There was this one time when you were five. You pooped purple and glitter. It was because you’d eaten a purple glitter crayon. Anyway, you thought it was awesome and had to tell everyone about it.”

I sighed. My mom and dad had told and retold the story more than two dozen times over the years.

“At the gas station you rolled down your window and told them. Then there was the grocery store. By then you were singing about your purple poop. It really was—”

“Okay, so you worried that I would tell someone when I was younger. But I’m not five anymore. I’m a grown woman. I graduated from law school.”

“Tell her it was because we didn’t want Jonathan to sue us. He said he would,” I heard my mom say.

“Did you hear that?”

I put out my cigarette and went over to a barstool. “So he knows?”

“Yeah, I think Barbara got sick of Jonathan flaunting all of his indiscretions and blabbed.”

That actually made a lot of sense. If anyone would sue out of revenge, it was Jonathan Bird.

“Fine,” I sighed. 

“My turn,” my mom said. I heard them wrestle over the phone.

“Birdy really wanted to tell you. It made her sick inside, but she worried that if she told, her dad would find out and somehow try to hurt us or you.”

“I get it, Mom.” I did, but that didn’t change that fact that it hurt.

“You gonna be okay?”

I sniffled. “Yeah. Just need to get over the shock.”

“Tell her I love her,” my dad said.

“Dad said—”

“I heard. I love you guys too.”

“Love you, sweetie.”

I hung up and debated whether or not I should open a third bottle of wine. Since I was going to The Attic tonight, I decided on water. I chugged it down and finished my turkey sandwich.

Sorry I didn’t text before now. Just got out of the office.
It was Cage.

No worries.

Did you find anything?
He texted.

Something huge,
I thought. But Birdy being my sister didn’t pertain to the case.

I found some ticket stubs to a club I’ve never heard of.

What’s it called?

Revelry. Ever been?

It was a good five minutes before he responded.

Are you sure that’s the name?

I picked up one of the stubs on the counter next to the journal. 
Yes, I’m sure,
I texted back. My senses prickled. It wasn’t a regular club. What was it? In New York there was something for everyone if you knew where to look.
Is it a lesbian club?
Maybe Birdy liked to go both ways.

Um…… Maybe I should tell you in person. Did you want to meet for drinks?

I’m going to The Attic tonight to watch Griffin sing. Around nine-thirty?

See you then. 

CHAPTER 10

Katie

I’d picke
d
out a simple denim shirt-dress. It was long sleeved, buttoned down the front, and came with a brown leather belt. I paired it with brown leather cowgirl boots. I left my hair down and did soft makeup in browns and pinks. I looked pretty. Definitely not a clubbing outfit, but whatever. I didn’t have Birdy around to help out.

When I arrived there was a long line. At least a two hour wait, which was ridiculous on a weeknight. And I didn’t have Birdy to get us the V.I.P. treatment.

“Great,” I whispered under my breath as I climbed out of the cab. It was a week before Thanksgiving and it was cold. The weather had gone from tolerable to winter almost overnight. I hadn’t worn a coat. They were a pain in the ass to keep track of.  But as I headed toward the back of the line I cursed myself for the idiotic decision.

Girls near the front of the line started screaming, not the holy-shit-I’m-scared kind of scream but the oh-my-god-I-can’t-believe-I’m-looking-at-this-movie-star scream. Over the years I’d heard the second set of screams many times.

Occasionally the screams had even been for Birdy.

I didn’t look to see who it was though, too frustrated that I wasn’t getting in to see Griffin, at least not at the rate the line was moving. I hadn’t even thought about wearing something low cut and provocative to encourage the bouncer to let me through. I’d become a snob without realizing it, expecting to be treated the way Birdy was treated even when she wasn’t around.

Idiot
, I thought, my thighs trembling.

Someone called my name. I turned.

It was Griffin. He’d been the celebrity the girls were screaming at. Not that I could blame them. He was Rock God hot. Tonight was no exception. His faded jeans hung low on his sculpted hips. The white button up hung open, exposing his hundred pack and part of one tattoo. His shoulder length hair hung perfectly, covering one of his brilliant thunderstorm blue-gray eyes.

My heart leapt and raced at the sight of him.

“Katie. Let’s get inside.”  He waved me over.

I smiled. Large. Showing all my teeth. And I didn’t care that nearly every girl in line threw daggered looks my way. They could suck it.

When I reached him he threw his arm around my shoulders. “You look beautiful,” he said.

I forced myself not to snort. “Thanks.”

We went inside. The club was packed. Griffin led me over to the bar. “Can we get Katie a vodka tonic?”

Guy, the bartender, smiled. “Sure, man. You want anything?”

“I’ll take a rain check.”

“You got it.”

I settled on the only open bar stool between an overweight bald guy and a weightlifter whose arms were bigger than my head.

“Please welcome to the stage Crushed Velvet!” an announcer interrupted over the music. It went completely dark for two seconds. Everyone screamed.

“Gotta run,” Griffin whispered.

A single stage light came on, featuring the drummer. It was Brian, the guy Birdy believed had killed Reid. While he and the rest of the guys were gone I decided to do some digging on him.

Guy set my drink on the bar. “Enjoy.” He winked.

“Thanks.” I took a sip, keeping my focus on Brian. Then two more lights came up, featuring the guitarists, Eddie and Steve. Hammond ran on stage. A spotlight shone on him. He did a back flip and then threw his hands in the air. The crowd cheered. He waved, ran over to his keyboard, and began to play.

The flip was ballsy for a guy who made his living with his hands.

“And finally, please give it up for the lead singer of Crushed Velvet, Grrrriffen Maxwell!”

The crowd went wild. Griffin came out on stage. No shoes. No shirt. Rippling muscles. Pants low on his hips. Rock God was the perfect name for him.