The Club Sin Series 4-Book Bundle (81 page)

Charles isn't here.

Life is so damn short.

Having her kids living out their dreams was all that mattered anymore. Now Mary wondered why she hadn't thought of doing that for herself. She wasn't sure when she'd decided to stop living or, more to the point, to live only for other people.

Her thoughts oddly went to Elliott. He'd given more to her life in just a couple weeks than she'd received in the last four years. What he told her last night echoed in her ears:
“You're too personable to be spending so much time alone, darlin'. Others are missing out, not having you in their lives.”

The old her was that woman.

She pondered now how Elliott had seen that side of her, when she was anything but that woman anymore. She had gone to his play party to connect with that side of herself again, and she realized now she had. Even more so, Elliott had helped draw that woman out.

Dark sadness overtook her, making her swallow deeply.
God
, how she'd treated him with such disrespect when he'd been nothing but caring toward her. And it was exactly that—entirely disrespectful that she'd thought of another Dom in his presence.

Elliott hadn't deserved that, and a soul-crippling sadness stormed into her.

Mary blinked out of her thoughts as Cassie asked, “So, what did you do after the show?”

She took a sip of the tea the waitress had left and didn't enjoy the thought of lying to Cassie. Her lifestyle wasn't something she and Charles had shared with their children. No one knew what they'd enjoyed in the bedroom. Some things were not for children to hear, no matter how close they were. “I went back to my hotel.”

“Oh, wow, you are full of excitement,” Cassie muttered, rolling her eyes. “You come to New York City and hide away in your room. You need to get a life.”

“I have a life, thank you very much,” Mary retorted in her defense. “A good life.” Though Mary didn't even believe herself now. Her life wasn't as good as it could be, she knew that.

Cassie raised her brows. “A boring life.”

Mary ignored her daughter's dig and asked, “This new show you're going to be in, tell me about it.”

Cassie examined her mother, then tightness formed in her expression. “Mom, why don't you date?”

“Cassie,” Mary grumbled.

“No, seriously, why?”

“Because I love your father,” Mary replied. “I have no interest in dating.”

Cassie's eyes turned bleak. “Aren't you lonely?”

Mary stared at her daughter, unsure of what to say. Cassie didn't understand how deep her and Charles's relationship was. The ownership it stood for. What it did to Mary when Charles died. “I am lonely sometimes, yes. But I have you three kids, which also includes a meddling daughter.”

Cassie barked a laugh, though the deep sorrow in her gaze remained. “A daughter who loves you and thinks you shouldn't spend your days alone. I know Dad wouldn't care about that. He'd want you to be happy.”

Mary again stared at her daughter, trying to find the words to explain. Absentmindedly, she touched her diamond necklace. She had pledged herself to Charles. She couldn't imagine herself offering that vow to someone else. Her loyalty to Charles knew no bounds. “What your father and I had happens once, and I feel blessed I got to experience it.”

Cassie's eyelids lowered and she looked so much older and wiser than her years. “But if it happened once that means it can happen again.” She placed her hand over Mary's, softening her voice. “If it was me in this situation, what would you tell me?”

Mary hesitated, and then begrudgingly admitted, “I'd tell you that life is too short to spend it alone.” Her throat began to tighten as she added, “I would also tell you if you find someone who makes you feel loved, you don't ever let them go, and to always keep living.”

Cassie nodded. “Sounds like some good advice that you need to listen to.”

In Antonia's, an upscale five-star Italian restaurant located in the Aces casino, Elliott shifted in his seat as the young man at the piano played a lovely tune. White linens covered the tabletops. Small candles gave the room a warm glow. Even though soft conversations were going on around him, he stayed more in his head than in the present.

Four days had gone by in a blur since Elliott had last seen Mary. As the long days and nights passed, his mood had darkened with each minute drifting by. He leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine, frustration drowning him. He couldn't decide if he'd done the right thing or made a terrible mistake by walking out on her. It seemed that having a piece of her was better than having nothing at all.

Someone clearing her throat drew his focus. Elliott lifted his head to his sister, Ana, frowning at him from across the table. “Care to tell me what is wrong with you?” she asked.

“I really must work on not being such an open book,” Elliott grumbled, playing with the steak on his plate that he always bought at their weekly Thursday-night dinner.

“You haven't said a word in five minutes.” Ana placed her elbows on the table, examining him with a long look. “What's going on with you?”

Part of him didn't want to get into this with his little sister, but he also was damn tired of being in his own head. “I met someone.”

Ana's brows rose. “I take it from your mood that it hasn't gone well.”

Elliott had never shared details of his lifestyle with his sister. It was a conversation between family that wasn't appropriate. “Clearly not.” For once, he thought his submissive had finally come to him. That he had found the perfect someone for him that he would always protect, but Mary didn't belong to him.

All that he'd witnessed was Mary's love for another man. He saw what Charles had seen and what Charles had had in his life. What Elliott desired. He cursed fate for bringing him and Mary together. For showing him what he longed for, but keeping it out of his reach.

Ana cocked her head, her eyes searching his. “So then, if you are this unhappy alone, why are you sitting here with me over dinner and not with this magical woman who has wooed you?”

Elliott snorted. A very good question indeed. One he'd constantly asked himself over the last few days. He wanted to go to Mary, but he knew the reasons she'd shown him the emotional connection she had.

What he thought was real between them was anything but.

She remembered her love for Charles—her submission to him.

Elliott knew he deserved to be loved and for a woman to be honest with him. Mary couldn't possibly give him that. He was well aware that he had exploded out of anger and, more so, out of hurt that she hadn't denied his accusation. “You can't conquer a woman who has a broken heart from the death of her husband.”

“Ah, yes, women are complicated beings,” his sister said with a small smile. “Yet we are also emotional creatures, too. Perhaps she is simply scared of a new relationship. Have you talked to her about that?”

Did I?

No, he'd lashed out in anger, he realized. He hadn't asked Mary what she was going through, he only got angry that she didn't see
him,
that she saw only Charles. “Perhaps I haven't said as much as I should have.”

Ana sipped her wine, then gave a firm nod. “Talk to her. Do what you do, learn about what the trouble is and fix it.” She grinned, tipping her wineglass at him. “Then I can have my brother back, instead of this miserable man.”

His sister's words instantly brushed across him. Ana had him pegged right down to the heart of it. In his professional life, he lived and breathed taking things that were broken and fixing them. His anger had made him see red. Now his thoughts cleared, and he was past that what Mary had done was insulting, it was quite possibly the best thing he'd ever seen.

He wondered now if their connection could be faked, or did she simply feel something she had before?
Something undeniably sensational.
But he also considered if maybe she hadn't truly mourned the loss of her husband. Perhaps she was confused, and that's why she couldn't admit she had feelings for Elliott. He even speculated now that her loyalty to Charles—a submissive's vow to her Dom—might have made it impossible for her to move on, even if it was what would make her happy.

Possibly it was exactly as Dmitri had said,
“I think Mary has gotten so used to not thinking of herself, she forgets the way life used to be.”

Though Elliott had seen the Mary that Charles had known, maybe Mary couldn't see herself that way anymore since Charles had passed away. With stunning clarity, he realized that he couldn't possibly be angry over her loyalty to her past Dom; he actually loved this trait in her.

Elliott longed for Mary to show that type of loyalty to him.

He recognized, a little foolishly, that Mary simply needed to put Charles to rest, but she didn't know how to make that happen. He stared down at his plate, knowing he was too consumed by his emotions to realize all of this was about her. She was conflicted between the woman in the past to the woman he could see now. And, as she'd done from the first time he touched her, she needed him to guide her.

Lifting his gaze to his sister, his lips parted to reply when a high voice cut in. “Hello, Elliott.”

He glanced up and controlled the frown fighting to be unleashed on his face. “Kate.” His ex-wife was scantily dressed in a skintight dress that showed off the cleavage that he had paid for.

Kate turned to Ana, giving a tight smile. “How are you, Ana? It's been too long.”

“Not long enough,” his sister replied, with hatred dripping off her voice. “You don't look like you've aged much, but I see that your face isn't moving. Has my brother's money paid for that Botox?”

Kate scowled.

Elliott chuckled, unable to hide it. His sister had never liked Kate, not from day one. After their divorce and Kate's fight to get just about everything he owned from him, that loathing only worsened. Kate hadn't been happy with a halfway split. She wanted everything he had. In the year after his divorce, since he became consumed with his work and had doubled his worth, Kate had attempted to get more.

She hadn't succeeded in her fight of greed.

“Kate, our table is ready.”

His ex-wife turned to her boy toy, who had to be at least twenty years younger, and she wrapped her arm in his. “Wonderful.” She glanced at Elliott and stared daggers at him. “I wanted to say hello. Enjoy your dinner.”

“Be well, Kate.” Elliott had no love in his heart for the woman anymore. She was selfish and greedy. Worse than this, she branded herself as a submissive, but she was anything but that. She simply didn't have a heart to give herself over that way.

Not in the way that Mary had.

As Kate left the table, Ana scoffed. “Still a bitch. Still after anything and everything to make her cold heart happy.”

Elliott gulped his wine, not needing the reminder of Kate tonight. At fifty years old, his personal life was so off from what he wanted it to be. The clear-cut reminder that he was still very much alone.

Ana finally sighed, flicking her long hair over her shoulder. “You know, no matter how miserable you are right now, things could be a lot worse.”

Elliott arched a brow. “Worse how?”

Ana gestured toward his ex-wife. “You could still be with that bitch.”

His gaze slid to Kate and he watched her fawn all over her toy. He didn't miss her, or what their marriage had been. Yet it was as if he stared at his life, which was so empty. Nothing had changed since he ended his marriage with Kate. He might be wealthier, but that was all he had to show for it.

At one time that would've been enough. It wasn't any longer.

Elliott wanted
more.
He needed the woman who burned under his touch. “You're right,” he said, turning to his sister. He raised his wineglass, tilting it toward her. Nothing like his sister putting things into perspective. “That life would be worse.”

The wind breezed through Mary's Mercedes convertible as she glanced over to the flowers on the passenger seat. This morning, just after her coffee break at work, Elliott had a couple dozen red roses delivered. Since she hadn't seen him since last weekend, they came as a surprise, but the card with them was more meaningful than the flowers.

Do this for YOU.

Yours,

Elliott.

When she'd flipped over the card, she had discovered a business card to a local widows' group. The gesture had left her somewhat flabbergasted for a few minutes, standing in the receptionist area of her doctor's office.

The meeting was every Saturday morning, which was tomorrow. Mary didn't know if she'd go. She didn't even know how she felt about Elliott sending the flowers, or the fact that he'd suggested she should go to a widows' group.

The only thing she did know was that she needed to go to a place where things made her mind quiet. The last week had been mentally and physically exhausting. Her thoughts conflicted with her emotions, and she'd never felt so undone.

She missed Charles.

She also missed Elliott.

His smile. His gentle care. His Dominant touch.

Elliott had stayed on her mind all week, and Mary had never been so happy that her workweek was over so she could get out of Vegas. With her heart and mind constantly at battle, she just needed it all to
stop.

She slowed the car on the paved road lined with palm trees and a sense of relief fluttered through her. Once she pulled into the driveway of her lake house, the quaint, two-story yellow-brick house with the Spanish roof brought immediate warmth to her soul.

Though the house was only a couple thousand square feet, it was perfect. It had enough bedrooms for the family and an open-concept living room and small kitchen, where they could be together. She wouldn't change a single thing about this house.

She and Charles bought the property when the kids were young to give them a childhood outside of the city. Now it was her sanctuary. Her safe place that was all hers and where troubles didn't follow her. She inhaled the hot, dry air as she exited the car, then she strode around the side of the house on the cobblestone pathway toward the backyard. Palm trees filled her grass yard, and seeing that the grass was wet, she realized the sprinkler system had recently come on.

The sun beat down on her shoulders as she gazed at the couple of boats drifting down Lake Las Vegas. Her small sailboat was tied up at the wooden dock near the beach. Then her gaze went straight to the eucalyptus tree by the water.

Charles wasn't buried there—he was buried in his family's plot in Vegas—but Mary had thought planting a tree in Charles's honor at the lake house was a perfect sentiment. It had been a family affair, and that day was full of smiles, as well as tears.

Seeing how big the tree was now only reminded her how much time had passed since Charles left her. When she reached the tree, she dropped to her knees and read the plaque placed in the grass in front of the trunk…

For Charles, a man who made this house into a home.

She inhaled the minty scent of the tree as the breeze fluttered the hair around her face. Her throat tightened as she touched her necklace, her heart reaching for him. Charles's death still seemed like such a sore wound that had never healed. His passing felt like it had happened yesterday.

In the pale-blue-painted room, the loud beeps coming from the monitors sent shivers down Mary's spine. The scent of antiseptic, stale air, and the sounds of the busy hospital only increased the horror fluttering through her veins. She lay curled up next to Charles. His cold, frail body, not at all what she remembered, was a hard reminder of her reality.

The monitors glowed in the dark room, casting a greenish light over Charles's hollowed-out cheekbones. Once a strong man, he was now nothing but bones. His body weakened enough that he resembled an elderly man even though he was only forty-five years old.

Mary snuggled up against his shoulder, settling her head on his chest, hoping he'd wrap a strong arm around her. That was wishful thinking. Her husband was dying. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she listened to his shallow breaths. How much longer would he suffer? Five months of chemotherapy and every alternative treatment out there had resulted in nothing less than a body that had long ago given up.

She raised her head from his shoulder, gulping at the air, as she studied the man she loved. The twenty months that had passed since he'd received the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer had been long. As much as she wanted to continue to fight the truth, his end drew near.

“Charles,” she whispered, raising her hand to brush her fingers over his clammy cheek. Their story had been one of fairy tales and instant connection. Within a week of meeting Charles, she knew she'd marry him.

He'd swept into her life when she was in her twenties, taken her in his arms and never let go. Now he couldn't keep that promise any longer that they would have a happily-ever-after. Her dreams were stolen without any hope of salvation.

She whispered his name again and he stirred. His breathing became so ragged she pulled her hand away, so as not to wake him. The morphine drip ran constantly now to help ease his pain. His eyes had opened for mere minutes over the past week, and only short conversations occurred as the agony of his disease stole him.

His voice cracked through his dry lips. “Mary.”

“I'm here.” She cupped his cheek and the skin was a chalk color. The dark circles under his eyes were so black. “I'm with you, Charles.”

The corner of his mouth arched up ever so slightly before his eyes opened. His head that once held beautiful, thick black hair was now bald. His light brown eyes that charmed her were pale.

She pushed herself up to see him better, not wanting him to strain. “Just rest, you don't need to speak.”

He swallowed once before he said, “It won't be long…”

The lump in her throat that had formed so many months ago thickened. The ache in her chest silently deepened. She had forced herself to be strong for him. For Charles. “Shhh, stay quiet. Please don't push yourself.”

“Listen to me…” His gaze, which had once held so much life, was filled with a misery that made her heart bleed. No part of the man that she experienced her life with looked back at her, only a shell of what he used to be. “I need to say…”

She sat up, grabbed the water from the table beside her, and raised the straw to his mouth. “Here drink this, first. Please, Charles, you're so weak.”

He swallowed the liquid and his eyes fluttered closed, as even swallowing seemed painful to do. “You're the love of my life. The reason I breathed. Never forget that.”

Mary blinked into the present, tears falling from her eyes, landing on her knees. “I don't know how to live without you.” The words passed easily through her lips, as if she had needed to say them for so long. “I don't know how to go on without you being at my side.”

She had always been strong, moving forward for her children. Perhaps she hadn't taken the time to speak of what lay in her heart, to even bare it to herself. Now her heart bled and she drowned in the agony of her loneliness.

Unable to catch her breath, she lay down, pressing herself against the damp grass, wishing it was Charles's body beneath her. “You promised me you'd never leave me. You promised me that I'd always be safe. That my heart was always protected. That you would never hurt me.”

Sobs ripped from deep in her chest as a reality that she'd long ignored crashed over her. “You did what you swore you would never do.” The grass was the only thing that kept her in the present, as all she wanted to do was drift away. “You broke your promise to me.”