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Cutting my trip short to race home, because she decides to ignore my calls and do little pirouettes all over my peace of mind? What the fuck? I knew I should’ve been single.
“If you ever insult my wife again,” I tell him, “I’ll take my son fishing using your eyeballs as bait.” “Yes, sir.”
I grin, hoping she can hear it in my voice, because I’m losing my fucking patience. “Your sister came when she was called,” I taunt. And that is it. Winter’s icy façade suddenly cracks. Her eyes go wide and then quickly morphs into a glare as she shoots out both hands and shoves water at me. I dive in and grab her as she’s distracted, throwing her over my shoulder. “Such a troublesome girl,” I scold, slapping her ass. “Why couldn’t I like the easy one? But no, I wanted this one.”
“Decent men don’t do this,” I tell her. “But that’s why I wanted this one. She’s a devil, just like me.”
“I love you,” I say. She doesn’t respond, and I’m too weak to keep up the pretense. “Okay, okay,” I admit. “Yeah, I may have threatened your choreographer with…” I search for words that won’t piss her off, “removal of certain limbs. I don’t like him putting his hands there. I put my hands there.” He doesn’t need to hold her that far up her inner thigh, for Christ’s sake, I don’t care what the lift is called or if he’s gay. Just no.
“The only one who can bring Ivar Torrance’s father to his knees is Ivar’s mother.”
I rub her nose with mine. “Forgive me?” She lets out a sigh but then slowly nods. I smile, relieved. “Talk to me, then?” But then she shakes her head. I growl and push back, letting her go. “Then, if that’s not it, what the hell did I do?” I slap the water. “Goddammit!” She stands up, replying flatly, “You won the bet.” And then she turns around, finding the edge of the pool and hops out. The bet… It only takes a moment for the light to dawn, and I realize what she’s talking about. The bet. My chest swells, and a smile spreads across my face as I dive for the edge of the pool, catching up with
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So, we made a bet. She would get pregnant if I could get her pregnant. While she was on birth control. I knew I was Superman.
She covers herself, and I take her hand. “Come on. I wanna see him.” I know he’s asleep, but it’s been a week. But she digs in her heels, stopping us. “He’s, um…” I look at her, my nerves instantly firing. “What?” “He’s, um…” She swallows. “Not here.” Excuse me? “He’s not here?” I repeat. “He’s twelve months old, Winter. Where is he?” She shifts on her feet. “Rika wanted him for the night.” “Rika…” I say. “And she took him to Meridian City?” Winter turns her head away, telling me all I need to know. I nod and grab her hand, leading her back to the house. “Of course not.”
But this is our son, dammit. They don’t get to make decisions about him without me. Rika has no business sticking her nose in this. “You know she can’t prove herself if you don’t give her a chance,” Winter points out. “She had a chance.” After a short pause, Winter adds, “Yeah, so did we.” Her voice is somber as we both stare out the windshield. “Thank goodness we gave each other another one.”
I pull her into the kitchen, her bare feet stumbling across the hardwood floors. I force her into the wall and glare down at her. “I would never have done anything,” I growl, no longer keeping my shit to a whisper. “I would never have hurt you!” “I know.” She answers so quickly and so easily that I hesitate, because I expected her to argue. She knows. She knew.
I watch her, graceful and well-spoken. A true player. “No, Michael is in London,” she tells him. “But keep his seat open.” She eyes me. “I might still be escorted.” I almost snort. As in moi? Bitch just took my king.
“I know what you do to parents who hurt you,” she finally says, returning to our discussion. “Do you really think I’d put her in your path if I weren’t sure?” My mouth curls a little, amused. “You scared of me?” “Oh, lots.” She nods exaggeratedly.
Rika smiles to herself, and I look down to see her take her single slice filled with tuna and fold it in half, peeling off the top crust. I falter, glancing down at my sandwich, which is already folded the same way. Huh.
She props her elbows up on the counter. “I mean, you don’t have to escort me,” she explains. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And the Andersons will be there, not to mention Kincaid still hates you, so...” Is she trying to get me excited? “You just might steal the show.” She feigns a sigh, sounding forlorn. “And I know how you like to keep a low profile.” I chuckle, peeling off my crust. She’s as good as Winter at playing me, but I can’t say I don’t enjoy it.
I don’t want Ivarsen around Rika’s mother. But I’m not entirely sure it’s because I don’t trust her. Maybe I want to punish her. Maybe I’m jealous that he gets to have what I didn’t. I stare down at the sandwich I can no longer eat, my stomach churning and the hint of bile in my throat. If I want Rika, and I want my kids to have her, there’s no getting around Christiane. I don’t want to have to explain to them why they can’t see her or why they can’t come here. Fucking fine.
“While we’re on the subject, I want you married before you have his child.” She laughs at me. “You want?” I nod. “Kai married Banks in a day. What’s taking so long?”
What’s going on with her? I watch her play with her bread, remembering the first time we were alone in a kitchen together. I had to be fifteen. She saw me, stopped breathing, and left as quickly as possible. Now she rarely makes a move without my knowledge or input.
Misha moves up, standing directly at Rika’s side. “Don’t you worry about it,” he tells me. “We’ll take care of it.” What? We’ll take care of… I grab Rika’s arm and pull her over to my side as I glare at him. “That’s right. We will.” You little shit. You know what your parents almost married makes you and her? Absolutely nothing. No one shuts me out. “This is family business,” he maintains. “And I’m the oldest,” I fire back, inching forward. “Get in line.” He may very well be her step-brother at some point, but I’m blood.
“Stop it!” Someone pulls at my shoulders as I almost get him under me, so I can straddle the little fucker and then maybe he can write a poem about it.
“Misha,” she grits out, staring down at him. “We’re having a conclave in one month. You just got yourself invited.” And she stalks off, setting the glass pitcher down on the island. Misha sits up, flipping me the finger. “Prick.” I push myself to my feet. “Babysoft.” Sea is a great place to bury bodies, you know? Deep breath, asshole.
Damon is doing well. I kind of envy the freedom he has. He’s creating his own legacy. But still…he should know. I was wrong to keep it from him. “I’ll deal with it,” I tell her and continue walking. What’s one more order of business to add to the conclave anyway? Nine friends locked on a boat with alcohol, spear guns, and the black ocean at night? This was a fantastic idea.
“Mmmm.” She shifts under me and yawns. “You can’t come at me with your seven-hundred-dollar perfume and expect me to keep this platonic, Rika. It’s devastating.”
I know I shouldn’t seek refuge in her as much as I do, but there’s so much going on, she seems to be the only one who realizes that I’m… Weak. When it comes down to it, I still feel like a kid playing at all of this.
“I need Will back, Rika,” she whispers. I lift my head, resting my chin on her chest and seeing her eyes glisten. She purses her lips to keep her emotions in check, but eventually, she explains, “I love you and Banks and Winter and the guys, but…Will gets it.”
I pause there, aggravated she’s changing the subject and putting up that façade again, but she holds me, dressed in her tank and underwear, and swings a long, naked leg over me. I let out a quiet laugh. Hiding behind playfulness. Will does that, too. I start to rub her head, but then the cabin door opens, and we both look over, seeing Banks standing in the doorway. She stops dead, her eyebrows nearly reaching her hairline as she catches us in our little, cuddly embrace. Her mouth forms an O, and she starts to back out, closing the door. “Get in here,” I call out. “We’re not doing anything.”
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Alex lifts up her head, and I stop rubbing her. “So…” She looks at Banks. “You and Kai.” And then to me. “You and Michael. And Damon and Winter, and…” “Misha and Ryen,” I offer. They’ll be here, because Misha is Will’s cousin, so we have business he wants to be involved in. “Misha and Ryen,” she repeats absently. “And what am I supposed to do while everyone else takes ‘breaks’ tonight?” She put “breaks” in air quotes as if she won’t get any hot, little downtime, too. Oh, who will she find to play with? “There’s a full crew,” I assure her. Her eyes go wide. “And David and Lev will be boarding
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I walk out to the sun deck, the dying light behind us, and see Damon standing at the edge of the boat looking down at the darkening water. His eyebrows are pinched, and I cup my food in my hand, leaning against a column and watch him as I chew. The last time I stood where he stands, Will was in the water with a cinderblock tied to his ankle and Trevor was trying to kill me. Will and I were almost lost that night.
“Sometimes,” Damon says, breaking the silence. “I let my mind wander enough, and it always comes back here.” He breathes hard, staring at the water as I stick a cube of cheese in my mouth. “Except Michael doesn’t catch him, and you never come up.”
I see our mother in him now. A lot. I didn’t before. The way his eyes go big and round, and it takes a moment to be sure whether or not they’re happily surprised or pissed off. The way he says what he wants and doesn’t like to lie. The way they both hate being alone. What an amazing thing time is. Three years ago, I thought I was going to die on this boat, him the last person I saw or talked to. I’d never been more scared. Now, there’s hardly a day that goes by where I don’t speak to him or need him.
“You know…” I approach him. He lifts his head, listening. But I don’t continue. I take a breath, let out a sigh, and…shoot out, shoving him hard in the chest. His eyes go big, he flails, and the next thing I know, he’s lost his footing and tips over the side of the yacht. “Shit! Fuck!” rings out as he plummets. His body hits the water ten feet down, a big splash as he disappears under the surface. I stare down and pop another cold cut into my mouth, chewing. Did he land on his shoulder? How do you land on your frickin’ shoulder?
Michael gazes out at the night, his back to me. I drift slowly into the room as Misha, Ryen, and Alex walk past me, but I can’t take my eyes off him. My insides melt, and after all the years of wanting him and loving him, I’m still sixteen with a crush from afar. Loving someone so much it hurts.
Michael turns and our eyes lock. His hazel gaze holds me frozen, and it’s hard to breathe, because I see it in his eyes. I always see it. The love. The need. The longing. But now, it’s different. There’s a hesitance there now, too. Like he’s unsure of what to do with me.
Michael takes his seat and swipes his fingers across his phone, setting it in the middle of the table to record the minutes. “All right, considering our agenda, let’s first tackle the—” “I want to kill your father,” I say, cutting him off. Damon chokes on his vodka rocks. Every eye at the table turns to me, and Michael silently stares as my words hang in the air.
“And I want to marry you,” he tells me. “Is this why you’re dragging your feet? My father?” I falter. One has nothing to do with the other. “That’s a private matter.” “You don’t talk even when we are in private. The only time things are good lately is when we’re fucking.” Damon shoves his chair back, making Banks and Ryen jump, and rises, scowling at Michael. But Michael is already on it, not bothering to get out of his seat as he glares up at Damon. “I was there when she was five and eight and thirteen, so you remember where you and she started the next time you want to imply you have any
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But before they can chime in, I tell him, “I don’t resent you. I love you.” I am a little hurt by his lack of urgency, but I understand the position he’s in. “And I’ll die your wife or I’ll die no one’s.”
“But I killed her son, Rika. I can’t…kill her…” He falls silent, but he doesn’t need to finish the sentence. I know.
“I’ll do it,” Damon chimes in. Michael nods absently. “I know you will, but I’m not going to let you. You have things to live for now. Don’t put yourself at unnecessary risk.” He sighs, sitting back again. “We can’t slaughter every problem anyway.” No, we can’t. We’re not criminals, and I have to constantly remind myself of that. We don’t break laws for personal gain. We do it for fun.
Michael and I are locked, but neither of us says more, probably because we don’t know what to say. He either wants to yell and doesn’t want to do it here, or he wants to throttle me. “Al…right,” Kai stammers, and I know he’s glancing between Michael and me. “We’ll… come back to that, then.”
I turn to leave, but someone grabs my hand, stopping me. I look up at Michael, both of us silent as the room slowly empties. “Say my name,” he whispers. The vein in my neck throbs. “Michael,” I say. “That’s not how you say it.” He inches closer, taking my face in his hand. “How you’ve always said it.”
“Michael…” “Fuck you, Rika,” he says, cutting me off. He stands up straight, turning his attention on me, and I tense. “Fuck your power, your schedule, your assistant,” he tells me, “your fucking little entourage everywhere you go, your plans, and your chess games. I gave you too much power.” I can’t move. Slowly, the bricks of every moment we built together start to shake, and I don’t know if I’m more shocked by his sudden disdain, or the fact that he actually thought Kai and I were… “And you know,” he goes on, “I wanted this. I wanted you to own it. I didn’t want another version of my
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“We won’t have any children together, Michael.” That’s as plain as I can put it. He needs to know the likelihood is slim. I wait for him to not be angry. To give some sign that this isn’t the end of the world, and he still loves me more than anything, but… He turns and walks away. He leaves the room, leaving me standing there with tears on my face. Emptiness aches in my body everywhere. He hates me. God, he hates me. I can’t breathe. “You knew?” I hear Banks ask. “I found out,” Kai tells her. “It was an accident.” I sniffle, my hands shaking. Oh, my God. He left. He walked out. I close my eyes
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I should leave. I step back but run into something hard, and I pause, the hair on my arms standing up straight. A long arm with long fingers reaches around me, and I spot the same beautiful vein in his hand bulging as he grips his bottle of Kirin, handing it to me. A flutter hits my heart, and I’m sixteen again, back at St. Killian’s.
“What’s my worth if I keep you from having the one thing most people really want?” I pause, staring at the scene but barely paying attention. “I couldn’t lose you, Michael.”
“I knew you were in my truck that day,” he says in a low voice. I blink. What? “I saw the backdoor open in the rearview mirror,” he explains. “And then I saw it close.” In his truck…? And then it hits me. Devil’s Night so long ago when I snuck into his truck to follow him and his friends. The same one where he let me try his beer for the first time. “You weren’t old enough for everything,” he continues, “but you were old enough for some things, and I couldn’t wait anymore. It was always there. Since we were kids.”
“I loved your world,” I whisper. “You wanted to see so badly that day in the catacombs.” The heat of his body warms my skin. “I even think part of you wanted to be her. To experience it all.” “I wanted anything with you,” I reply, opening my eyes. “I wanted to let it all happen.”
“I wish I could go back to that night,” I tell Michael. “I would’ve tried not to get in that truck. I would’ve tried not to steal all this time from you.” Tears burn behind my eyes. I’m a burden to him. I feel like I’m making his life worse. But all of a sudden, his arms wrap around me, and his whisper hits my neck. “And if I could go back, I wouldn’t have wasted a moment.”
“I would’ve left that warehouse that night, but I would’ve taken you with me instead.”
“Do you trust me?” he asks. I… I nod. “Then why would you ever think the idea of children with any other woman wouldn’t make me sick?” he whispers, and I can hear the pain in his voice. “We will have kids. If you want them. But I will never not have you.” He shakes me. “Do you understand?” A sob lodges in my throat. “Do you understand?” he growls again. “A world where there is no us can’t happen.”
“I can’t follow the rules,” he says, “and with you, I don’t have to. I’m not alone. I can’t go back to being alone.” He hovers over my lips, our mouths open and hungry. “I can’t fucking breathe without my little monster.”
