Chapter 16

sixteen

Tav

There’s no high quite like the high a man gets when he’s on stage before a full crowd that screams for something only he can give them. It’s addictive. The good kind of addictive, that reaps benefit rather than bleeding a man dry.

Before Olympia came back into my life, I’d have bet every dollar in my account that this—performing—would be the only weakness I’d ever have. The only craving I’d ever truly bow to. The only addiction I’d ever indulge.

Now there’s her.

She’s been in my life for a week, and she’s already messing with everything. I haven’t been able to forget the way I’d felt when Kane taunted me with Ilya only last night. The hot, tight possessiveness I’d felt toward the little woman I tell myself I hate.

I’d called it a night when she’d swayed in my arms, asking adorably if the room was supposed to spin. The way she’d relaxed in my arms against my chest, dropping every barrier she always seems to keep in place around me, I knew she was well past intoxicated. I also knew I had to get her home before Ilya showed up to the party.

The last thing I wanted to do was go head-to-head over a woman with the head of the Russian Bratva. Even I’m not that crazy, but for her, I thought maybe I’d do it.

That’s why I have to get her gone from my life.

Having Ilya take her wouldn’t do. I needed her gone in a way that I’d never have to see her again. Never hear from her or of her.

I’d gotten her home last night, watching in amusement as she stumbled around the house, blabbering on about how fun my friends were and how lucky I was to have them. As though I don’t already know.

When she’d gone to the kitchen, pulled the cranberry juice from the fridge before plucking the bottle of vodka I keep on hand for Kane, from the pantry, staring at it like she wasn’t sure how to open the twist off cap, I knew I had to shut it down.

She’d whined when I took away her bottle.

I told her to go to bed.

She stomped her foot and folded her arms as glassy eyes met mine with unpracticed defiance.

I threw her over my shoulder, giving her plump little ass a slap for good measure.

Her fists connected with my back.

I laughed.

She cursed me all the way to her room where I threw her onto her bed, tossing a blanket over her before shutting off the light on my way out.

She didn’t make an attempt to escape. I figured she was too drunk to try. The girl is a lightweight.

I’m pretty sure even now where she stands in the crowd, nursing another drink, that she’s still half smashed. I don’t mind, though. She’s kind of cute when she’s tipsy.

Pounding the drums as Cash belts out the song he wrote for Wrenlee—one of our biggest hits along with the song Kane penned for Nevaeh—I revel in the sound of the crowd screaming. The hairs raise over my arms and the drumbeat thunders inside my veins.

Nothing consumes me quite like this, being here like this with my brothers, on stage. It’s life.

Still, even though this is my place, and I’ve always been firmly in my place when I’m here on stage with these men, I find myself doing something I’ve never done before. I look for her. I search the crowd for big blue eyes and pouty lips and dark chocolate waves I want to wrap around my fist.

The thought has my dick growing hard as the song ends. A mist of green and orange lights shine down on the stage, hovering over the crowd. But I find her. She’s standing at the side of the stage, closer to where Kane stands with his guitar. The women surround her, and they’re all dancing as a new song begins.

I play the drums from muscle memory as my eyes stay fixed on her.

Like all deadly things, she’s devastatingly beautiful. When she throws her head back, arms lifting high, hips swaying, I can’t help but clock the way she moves. Every move she makes as her body sways to the music I helped to create.

She’s like a siren, luring me in. Luring me to my demise.

I’d jump into the deep for a chance to possess her.

Shit.

Tearing my eyes from her, I think again how I have to get rid of her, before she becomes even more dangerous. Before she came into my life, I’d thought myself strong of will. Turns out, I’m not so strong, after all.

She’s going to destroy me.

I won’t let her.

Anger overrides my fascination with the little siren now that I’m not watching her, transfixed by her. I pound the drums until sweat coats my flesh. And then I pound more. I give everything I have to this show until Cash sings the last song, and the melody fades into a roar that rises from the crowd for us to feast on, and feast we do.

* * *

“Still trying to get rid of the girl?” Cash shoves his arms into a black leather jacket backstage.

“Nothing’s changed.” Why does that feel like a lie?

“Sure seemed like something had changed last night.” Kane, always the asshole, pokes.

“Nope.” I swallow half a bottle of water, too aware of the way Ian watches me.

“Gonna go get the girls,” Cash says, already walking to the door. “Don’t like Wren out there without me.”

“Yeah,” Kane agrees, and because I’m a fucking sucker, I feel myself following until Ian calls, “Tav.”

I pause, turning back. “Yeah?”

“I got that thing you asked for.”

My hot blood instantly runs cold. “The will?”

“No. Not yet.” He eyes me carefully. “The medical report you asked for.”

A rush of air leaves my lungs. The disappointment is a painful burn, but I recover fast enough. I’m accustomed enough with disappointment not to be too crushed. In time, I’m confident Ian will come through for me. Though, if I’m honest, I’m surprised it’s taking him so long now that he knows what to look for. There has to be more than a physical copy. Somewhere, someone has to possess a digital copy, and if they do, Ian will find it.

“Thanks,” I say, turning to the door again. “Email it to me, yeah?”

Ian leans his ass into the arm of the couch. “Hold up a sec.”

I pause, frowning. “What’s up?”

“I don’t think you should play her like you are.”

I stiffen. “The fuck do you mean?”

“I mean, I think there’s more to her than you think there is.”

“She’s my younger brother’s ex fiancée, Ian. She showed up at my home out of the blue, blackmailed me into letting her stay by holding my mother’s fucking will over my head—the will I suspected always existed, but couldn’t prove—and has no intention of giving it to me until she gets her inheritance in fourteen months.” I hold up my hand, because I’m pissed, and I have more to say. “None of that is taking into consideration the fact that her sister was the woman I thought I’d marry. The woman who turned out to be sleeping with my father behind mine, and my mother’s, back.”

“She’s not her sister, Tav,” Ian reminds with cool rationality I’m not capable of right now.

“No. But they share blood,” I spit. “I couldn’t ruin Ophelia, but Olympia walked right into the shit coming her way. No, she fucking demanded it.”

“So, what are you doing? Making a fool out of her with this bet?” he asks with his constant calm. I’m vibrating. “You’re going to take her innocence and kick her out with no protection, because you think we’re going to side with you and cheat her into losing? Is that what you’re doing?”

“She’s not innocent. I grew up with that family. They were born dirty. Fucking filthy.” Red fringes my vision. I need to end this conversation. “And, yeah, I expect my brothers to take my back at the end of these thirty days. I expect you to stand beside me and help me get rid of a leech.” My voice is rising. “Think you can do that, Ian?”

He’s quiet for a beat as I wait, my chest heaving with the emotions of my past. Emotions I’d thought I’d burned before burying the ashes.

When he speaks, he speaks softly. “You’re angry at them, not her. She was a child. And before she came here, you’d always spoken kindly of her.” He pushes off the arm of the couch to stroll casually toward me. “I’ll have your back always, Tav. You know that.” He pats my chest. “But be cautious the devil you become in your quest for revenge. There’s only so much you can come back from. Only so much the innocent can forgive.” His open palm connects with my heaving chest on his way past me. He gives a solid pat. “Read the documents I sent before you do anything.”

With that ominous warning, he’s gone.

I pull up my email and scan the first document. My eyes pause on a single sentence as my blood roars behind my ears.

She’s a virgin.

She was telling the truth. At least about that.

My eyes scan more of the document, and I see who ordered the exam: Darius Taviera.

Ian also included who the good doc sent the report to. Remira Laurier and Darius Taviera.

Maybe there’s some truth to her story after all.