Girl In Pieces (20 page)

Oliver slid the door closed behind us. High above the city, the unmistakable scent of snow and cold surrounded us. “Look, I didn’t want to tell you before because I knew it was going to piss you off, but it can’t wait any longer.”

“Just tell me.”

“Ah, it’s about your friend. Your bar manager. Brian.”

I glanced towards Kat. She was cleaning the living room, bare feet padding across the white carpet like she was worried she might leave footprints.

“What about him? How do you even know him?”

Oliver gave me a serious look and I knew. Shit. I knew.

“How the fuck did he get mixed up with your family?”

“My father reached out to him after Ken Koile’s funeral. The bastard offered to slide him his father’s line of credit.” Oliver exhaled, a white cloud that dissipated in the cold air. I shook my head. “Turns out Brian’s shit at cards.”

“No kidding. Jesus, what was he thinking? How bad is it?”

“Bad. Very bad. He’s blown the credit. I didn’t know any of this was going on until a couple of days ago when my father gave me his name.”

This was the only point of contention between us, Oliver’s job. He was a Knox, so money and power came part and parcel with the name. Gambling Hells and private clubs were the family business and South River had no shortage of men with money who wanted what the Knoxes could get them. Fine. I certainly had no business telling anyone how to seek pleasure.

But there were also a lot of people who didn’t have the money but badly wanted the lifestyle anyway. That’s where things got dirty. That’s where things got scary. That’s where Oliver came in.

Oliver lived exclusively under his father’s thumb as the Knox enforcer. Him and his brothers, though they had a lot fewer scruples and a lot more interest in violence than Oliver. I’d been trying to get him to leave his family’s business for years.

“You don’t leave,” he’d say after too many drinks. “You die or go to prison. That’s how you get out. Family is everything.”

Oliver Knox was the guy you didn’t want having your name in his pocket. He was the dark shadow in every alley, around every corner, stalking you across the country when you tried to run.

Oliver was terrifying when he needed to be. He made a fucking fantastic Dom, the one place where his power was his and his alone. In his playroom, he took orders from no one. He was loyal to a fault, understood limits and boundaries better than most, and knew how to provide care afterward. But he also never kept anyone around long enough to form any lasting attachments.

As far as I knew for sure, Oliver had never actually killed anyone, nothing like that. Never had to. Marks found a way to pay the debt or work out a trade before it went that far. He was very good at finding the soft spots in anyone’s armor. He knew how to hit them where it hurt.

This was why he could never take a permanent sub. He never allowed himself to have a weak spot.

“I need to talk to Brian before you go after him. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe I can fix this.”

Oliver shook his head. “Unless you have twenty thousand dollars, you can’t fix this.”

“Son of a...” I exhaled. That explained a lot about Brian’s behavior over the last six months. It explained everything. Shit, how had he done this to himself? Why hadn’t he asked for help?

“This is where everything runs out for me,” Oliver said. He put his hands on the balcony ledge and stared out over the city. “The money, the women. I’d give up everything if I could make this stop. My father will never let me go, though. Every time I hit the street after some low life with a gambling problem --no offense-- I hope they’ll fight back hard enough, break enough bones, that I can’t keep being my father’s pit bull. He’ll have to rely on my brothers to do all his dirty work.”

“You could run.”

“Then I’d have to spend the rest of my life running. And I’d put everyone I ever cared about in danger. You included, I might add.”

“I’m touched.”

“It’s not the gamblers that’s the worst. That would be easy, they signed the contract and took the money. It’s when they put other people in danger that really pisses me off. He has a sister,” Oliver said quietly. “That’s what I’m told.”

Before I knew what I was doing, I was in Oliver’s face, practically on top of him. I balled my fists around handfuls of his expensive shirt and yanked him into me.

“If you go anywhere near her,” I told him quietly. “I will kill you.”

He stalled. He wasn’t stupid. It took a heartbeat before his eyes jumped to the girl inside cleaning up his living room.

“Shit,” he said. The moment slipped and he shoved me off him, several buttons breaking from his shirt, tacking across the balcony, and rolling over the edge in free fall. “You’re telling me your fucking submissive is his
sister
?”

I didn’t say anything as he ran his hands through his hair and turned away.

“I would never hurt her.”

“Your brothers?”

“Will know she’s off limits.”

Brian and I were done. I knew that now that Kat had been named as a source of persuasion. Sadly, I doubted he’d go to any extraordinary lengths to protect her. Not since he’d decided to throw his life away greedily for money by getting in bed with the Knoxes. His father had been a gambler, fantastic at cards, and made serious money with and for Richard Knox. Brian had none of those skills or the stomach to deal with the consequences.

“I won’t let anyone hurt her, Oliver. Not you, not anyone.”

“I can’t protect him. He’s in it on his own and there’s nothing I can do. But your girl…I’ll keep her out of it. You have my word.”

We drove home in silence.

Whatever had happened on the balcony between the two men made Josh pensive and tense. He didn’t touch me, but I touched him as he drove, stroked the webbing between his fingers and he let me.

“Do you remember that night in the bar? The night Kyle left me? We made up those drink recipes and listened to Green Day until three in the morning.”

“Oh yes. How could I forget?” He glanced from the road to my upturned face and smiled. I
mmm
ed pleasantly and slid an arm around his abdomen.

“I thought you were going to kiss me.”

“I was going to kiss you.”

“I wanted you to.”

“God, now you tell me. I could have had you naked and tied to my bed months ago.”

“At least.” I sighed. “Do I have to call you ‘Sir’ and ‘Master’ all the time?”

His troubled mood broke when he laughed, a full body laugh I loved hearing. He pulled me to him and held me still to kiss the top of my head. “No, absolutely not. That’s just for the bedroom when we play. The rest of the time it is just you and me as it’s always been.”

“Except with kissing.”

“Yes, except with kissing. As often as possible.”

The pleasure dissipated from his eyes and after a few minutes of quiet his mouth tightened and he returned to looking troubled and anxious. I sighed and rested my head against the window and watched as he turned onto the boulevard and pulled into a parking space outside the bar.

“I don’t think we should tell Brian,” I said quietly. “At least not for a little while.”

He scowled and glanced across the seat at me. “I’m not keeping you a secret.”

“No, I don’t want you to. Just from him. For a little while. He’s going to lose his shit and, well, he just lost a girl he thought he cared about and now it’s going to seem like I’ve stolen away his best friend, too. He already hates me half the time and I don’t think this will be good for him. Or us. His reaction is going to be bad, Josh, right when he was starting to come around.”

Josh looked out the window, a hand still on the steering wheel keeping me on my side of the car, the other he brought to his mouth. Whatever his thoughts, it was clear he had no intention of sharing them with me. I shrank back to my door, feeling that little knot of worry growing bigger. More secrets, then. Would he talk to Oliver instead? How many important people were in his life? Was I ever really one of them when even now he couldn’t tell me everything?

Again I felt the vague jealousy of being on the outside all this time. It nibbled at my security, one question at a time. Oliver had proven to me that there was more Josh I didn’t know, may never know.

Selfishly, I wanted all of him.

“Fine,” he said, steel in his voice he couldn’t hide. “For a little while. I’ve lost enough time with you. I won’t lose much more. Not because of him.”

I leaned across the seats and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

He sighed, but didn’t look at me.

“Yeah, yeah. Bat your eyes and kiss me like that and you’re bound to get your way more often than not. Come on. Go grab a change of clothes and a toothbrush. I’m going to make you midnight omelets and we’ll watch infomercials till you fall asleep.”

“You sure know how to romance a girl, Murcek.” I pushed the door open and climbed out into the quiet street.

“Only the best for my girl. Maybe tomorrow night, if you’re very, very lucky, I’ll let you do my laundry.”

“Yeah, that’s going to happen.” I made a rude noise and dove into his side, my worry momentarily forgotten. He wrapped his arms around me and dragged me across the street to my building.

“Is that a challenge? You haven’t even seen my flogger collection yet. I can be very persuasive with a flogger.”

“You do not have a flogger collection.”

“I do.”

“I call shenanigans. I’ve torn your apartment apart and never found so much as a single porn magazine.”

“You went looking for my porn?”

I shrugged. “Of course I did.”

“You’re so weird.” He held the door to my building open for me. The way he leaned against it, thumbs hooked through belt loops (
Belt loops. My God.)
grinning like that, I just wanted to push him against the wall and have my dirty way with him. “Your curiosity is why I became very, very good at hiding my porn and my toys.”

I made a noise of frustration that made him smirk. His smirking did not help my frustration.

“Give me five minutes.” I grabbed the front of his coat and tugged, pulling myself up onto my toes to kiss him. “Then you’re going to spill all your secrets, Josh Murcek. Starting with where you hide your porn.”

“Brat.” He swatted my backside as I tried to leave. “Hurry up. I’m starving and want you naked as soon as possible.”

I squealed and pushed him away. He walked backwards towards his building, keeping an eye on me the whole way, grinning like a stupid fool. 

When he turned, I took off up the stairs, ignoring the aches the night’s festivities had left me with.

There were only three other apartments on this floor, so it didn’t take long to realize something wasn’t right.

I slowed.

My door stood open, splintered wood where the deadbolt had broken through the frame.

Oh.

Glass crunched under my shoes as I pushed my way inside. It never occurred to me to stop and run or call the police. Later, when I relived this moment in my mind a hundred times, I’d regret that. I should have gone to Avery’s. I should have run to Josh the moment I saw the break-in.

Should’ve.

Would’ve.

Didn’t.

Several steps in, I knew the shadows were all wrong, my things in all the wrong places. I fumbled for the light on the wall. Found it. Flicked it on.

And covered my mouth to hold in a scream.

Chaos. The floor was littered with broken mementos, glass, and clothes. The couch had been shredded, puffs of cotton clinging to every surface. My desk had been stripped bare down to wires, shelves emptied, everything that wasn’t nailed down taken.

My stereo. Television. Books, DVDs. The art on my walls,
my
art, which had no value to anyone but me.

Bedlam. What they didn’t take, they destroyed and violently. I made a slow circle, taking it all in, my thoughts spinning through everything I noticed that was missing until I couldn’t count them all.

I touched my fingertips to my lips. Tears filled my eyes, and that knot of emotion in my chest broke open and spilled its poison into my veins. All at once I couldn’t breathe. My heart squeezed. I choked when I wanted to scream and scream and scream.

My home. This had been my home.

Panic shook me apart piece by heartbroken piece. Everything I owned of any value was gone. My computer. They took my computer.

No.
No no no
. No.

Months of graphic work had been on that computer. Hundreds of hours for jobs I’d never be able to finish. Someday, in alternative universe where I wasn’t flat broke, I could replace the laptop and software, but not the work I’d already completed, the clients I’d certainly lose.

Kat the artist was dead. They’d stolen her as easily as they’d stolen my television.

I had to get out of here or before I completely lost it.

My toe bumped a box, which clattered onto its side. I stopped. Looked at it. Stared for a long time as my brain tried really hard not to communicate what I was seeing. I crouched down to pick it up.

My hands shook visibly as I opened it, tipped it upside down.

And then sank to my knees.

It was gone

The money.

The cash Brian had given me. My lifeline.

The last of everything I had.

Gone.

Tears escaped, sliding tortuously down my cheeks. I was going to lose my home. I was going to lose my business. They’d taken all the little pieces that made me Kat, right down to my clothing and the books I’d read. What wasn’t worth a damn, they destroyed just for the hell of it.

For one bright, shining moment I’d been powerful and happy and loved. I’d been in love, wrapped in Josh’s arms. I’d endured pleasure and pain on levels I’d never dreamed of. The stars aligned and I’d felt needed.

And I’d become
extraordinary
.

Now, in one shattering moment, the truth knocked me back to my knees where I belonged, reminded of how weak and naive and silly I really was. I couldn’t take care of myself, let alone someone else.

Josh.

While I tried not to lose my mind as I’d lost everything else, Josh was waiting for a mess of a girl who’d thought for a second she was
more
.

I couldn’t bear to meet his beautiful blue eyes because I couldn’t bear to see myself in them now.

The helplessness and humiliation I felt then rose up and swallowed me whole and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t even slow it down.

Because this was what I knew as I saw what was left of my life, as I felt the glass shards of old picture frames bite into my bare knees—

Josh didn’t deserve this.

Tonight he’d made me feel like I could have everything. The sun, moon, and stars.

He’d made me feel like I was someone. Someone special. Someone strong.

And I’d wanted it all. Every piece of it.

Foolish girl.

End of Part II

The Fortune Teller’s Daughter

The Curvy Sister

Distracting the Billionaire’s Son

Taming London: The Submission of London Mackenzie

Breakfast with Mia

Other Stories of the South River Doms:

Her Secret Pleasure (Secrets #1)

Her Secret Betrayal (Secrets #2)

Coming Soon:
Her Secret Power (Secrets #3)

Going too Far, The Curvy Submissive #1

Girl in Pieces, The Curvy Submissive #2

Coming Soon:
Wanting it All, The Curvy Submissive #3

Becoming Jane, novella in the Master of Desire anthology

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There are more South River Doms just waiting to turn you on!

Try
SECRETS
first. Old lovers reunited years after they were sure they’d never see each other again. Old passions die hard, but can Kara and Sean pick up where they left off after so much time and heartache?

Short excerpt from HER SECRET PLEASURE, Secrets #1:

"Up," he whispered as he placed his hands on my hips. I slid up onto the edge of the counter top, a secret part of me stirring with pleasure at being given a command from this man it could happily obey.

He moved his hands down to my bare knees to just above my socks and parted my legs slowly. The memory of this felt so acutely real it took my breath away and started my heart hammering despite my exhaustion. He was so close, his hot breath on my face, the warmth radiating through his fingertips on my bare skin. It all felt so deliciously familiar. I gazed up at his face, but he watched my knees where his hands touched. His eyes glassed over and I thought I could detect a hitching change in his breathing, too.

When Sean pulled his hands away, they were shaking.

He grabbed a handful of paper towels, ran one under the faucet, and then moved expertly between my parted legs to get as close as possible. He touched a fingertip under my chin, raised my gaze to meet his, and lightly guided my face to turn so that my wounded cheek was facing him, every touch given with frightening intimacy.

He held me still with his thumb on my chin and index finger beneath it. Very gently he touched the wet paper towel to the dry edges of my scratch. I flinched, tried to yank away from him, but he held me steady.

"Shhh," he whispered. "I've got you."

The ghost of a smile caught the corners of his mouth and I considered what the consequences might be if I pressed my mouth against that smile.