Shattered Bonds: Book Seven of Wicked Play (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

Liv woke to soft snores and Noah’s arm wrapped around her. The steady beat of his heart thumped beneath her ear in a reassuring rhythm of life. One big inhale filled her with the lingering scent of the wild sex they’d had last night. A lazy smile curled over her lips and she snuggled in closer to his heat while he still slumbered. The chances of this being a repeat event were slim, but it didn’t stop her from savoring the last of it.

What happened last night was a result of circumstances.

Her thoughts traveled over the last forty-eight hours, and the sense of peace slowly slipped away. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and took in the pattering taps of rain hitting the roof, a resigned sigh slipping out before she shifted up to study Noah.

His lips were parted in a way that invited her to kiss them. She didn’t though, afraid she’d wake him. His beard stubble darkened his cheeks, giving him a roughish air that matched his messed hair with a lone curl that insisted on dropping down to rest on his forehead. She had to fist her hand to keep from brushing it back.

Her one regret about last night was that she didn’t get to explore him the way she would’ve liked. His toned body had fit with hers almost perfectly, yet she’d missed her chance to touch him, taste him and return the worship like he’d done with her.

Wide awake despite the short night and leaden weight that seemed to hold her limbs down, she forced herself to ease away from his comforting warmth. She snatched his sweater off the floor and tiptoed into the hall to grab her bag from the other room and use the guest bathroom. She kept her shower short, but she couldn’t resist twisting around before the mirror to see if there really were bruises on her hips.

She sucked in a breath, a tightness clenching her chest and core when she found the purplish outline of his fingers pressed into her pale skin. Images of the night before scrolled through her mind in flashes of passion and reckless abandon. Sex had never been like that. She wasn’t a virgin by any means, but Noah was...exactly like she’d imagined he’d be if he let go.

Wild, hard, dominant and passionate beyond control.

She held a certain amount of pride that she’d evoked that in him. That she’d gotten past his reserve and helped him find a release.

She snickered at her pun. That was all it was, really. A release of stress and tension from the day. A confirmation of life when they’d both needed it.

So why was she pulling his sweater on and burying her nose in the neck to inhale his scent? She rolled up the sleeves, brushed her hair into the easy ponytail and flicked on a quick brush of mascara, but it was the comfort of having him wrapped around her that gave her the strength to head downstairs and meet the day.

Coffee was brewing, eggs were mixed and the bread was waiting to be toasted before she turned on the flat-screen TV that dropped down from under the cabinets. It might’ve been 5:00 a.m., but there were a dozen texts and even more emails waiting for her on her phone. She scanned them all to ensure there was nothing urgent, filled a mug of coffee, stirred in some creamer then grabbed a pad of paper and a pen.

The local morning news anchors droned on in the background, and her To Do list was fifteen items deep before she slowed. She sipped her coffee and mapped out how to get them all done.

She was deep in analysis of the public transit system around the cracks in her phone screen when the hairs on the back of her neck began to dance in awareness. “Morning, Noah,” she said without turning around. Would he say anything about last night? Should she?

“Morning, Liv.” The floor creaked beneath his feet, and she tracked his movement via sound to the coffeepot, then the clink of the mug and splash of liquid as he poured a cup. “Any reports on the accident?”

“No. Nothing, yet.” A small miracle. Her focus was on her phone, but her attention was completely on him.

“What are you studying?”

“Bus schedules.” It totally sucked that her car had died, but she wouldn’t admit that to V or Holden.

“Why?”

She finally glanced up and had to bite her lip to keep from sighing. The man was rumpled and possibly even more gorgeous, despite his frown. His hair had the finger-combed look and his shorts and T-shirt showed off all that skin and muscle she’d failed to admire last night.

She swallowed. “Working out?”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“So are you.” His scowl had her hiding her smile behind her coffee cup.

She glanced at the clock. She had to be at the bus stop down the street in thirty minutes to catch the connection across town for some clean clothes, then get over to the center for the end of the morning cycle before the kids left for school.

“I have scrambled eggs ready to go.” She nodded at the bowl of beaten eggs on the counter. “I can make them now, or you can fix them when you get done with your workout.”

He leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee until she wanted to squirm.

“What?” she finally asked, tapping the end of the pen on the counter. “You don’t like eggs? You didn’t have much else.”

“Why are you making me breakfast?”

“You act like no one’s ever done something nice for you.” When he didn’t say anything, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I was up and thought you’d be hungry. I’m not trying to move in or anything.”

She met his stare and dared him to deny her assumption. His preference for solitude and order was clearly established, but there was no need for him to be defensive.

He set his mug down and moved to her side. She scowled, not understanding his intent, when he clasped her chin and leaned down to kiss her.
Oh.
She couldn’t stop her smile as he pulled back, his thumb caressing her bottom lip. “What was that for?”

“Morning, Liv,” he said, a smoldering heat darkening his eyes.

She swallowed. “Morning, Noah.”

He cocked a half smile. “Better.”

She gave a hesitant nod. “Okay...”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.” Better than expected, that was for sure.

“You sore this morning?” His eyes flicked down to scan her neck, a remembered tingle springing to life where he’d bitten her.

“No.” Well, not in a bad way. She didn’t expand on that though.

“I like your outfit.”

She looked down and tugged at the hem of his sweater. It hit her midthigh and was perfectly decent, yet she felt exposed now that he’d said something. “It was easy to grab when I got up. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He swiveled the stool around and urged her legs apart until he stood between them. “You should keep it. It looks better on you.”

She laughed. “Right.” As much as she’d like to, there was no way she would take the expensive sweater.

“The bus schedule?”

She scrambled to follow the jump in the conversation. It was so tempting to lean forward the few inches that separated them and fall into him. As it was, her thighs burned where they touched his.

“Figuring out my route for the day,” she finally answered, then glanced at the clock. Dang, she had to hurry now if she was going to make the bus. She nudged him out of the way. “You’ll have to make your own eggs now,” she said before choking down the last of her cold coffee. “The bus will be here in twenty minutes, and I need to get dressed.”

She was halfway down the hall when he called out. “Liv.”

“What?” She paused with one foot on the stairs. “Oh. I checked all the emails and texts. No change on Kendra and Tyler, but Jake woke up and should be downgraded to acute care this morning. I’m going to swing by the hospital after I get the kids at the center off to school.”

She started up the stairs before he grabbed her wrist. She spun around. “What now?”

“Do you ever slow down?” His brows were furrowed in thought or maybe annoyance, which was fine, since it matched hers. “Here.” He held out a set of keys. “You can use my car.”

“No.” She shoved the keys back. “You need it.”

“It’s my other car.” He trapped the keys against her palm. “I don’t need it. It’ll be easier than taking the bus for a while.”

Dang it. She wanted to be stubborn and refuse, but her pride wouldn’t help anyone. Her shoulders slumped as she took a step back down so she was eye level with him. “Are you sure?”

His blue eyes captivated her, so intent and sure of himself. “I insist.”

He insists. She had to smile at that. Of course he did. “Then I insist on making you eggs for breakfast.” He wasn’t the only one who could dole out demands. “Oh.” She snapped her fingers. “It’s Thursday, right?” The days had blended together.

“Yes.”

Nothing more. It was good to see that last night hadn’t changed him. Well, except for the way his thumb was caressing the inside of her wrist. That was new and nice. Her pulse fluttered, and his lips were soft and warm when she pressed an impulsive kiss to them.

“With everything that’s going on, I’m assuming you’re skipping the center today,” she said as she licked her lips to get another taste of him.

He released his hold on her wrists to plow the hand through his hair. “No. I’ll be there.”

“Why?” She followed him back to the kitchen. “I’ll explain it to them. The kids will understand.”

He topped off his coffee. “No. They’re the ones who shouldn’t have to understand. I won’t skip out on them.”

She leaned on the counter and held out her empty mug. If he expected a rebuttal, he wasn’t getting one. His commitment to the kids she loved was one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place. She took her filled mug back and cradled the warmth in her hands.

“What’s your schedule for the day?” she asked. “Do you need help at the club tonight?”

He snatched up the TV remote and punched the volume higher. A red “Breaking News” banner flashed across the bottom of the screen, and Liv’s stomach curled around the coffee she’d just consumed.

“Reporting live from the Hennepin County Medical Center, I’m Deborah Coats with an update on Tuesday night’s fatal two-vehicle accident. We’ve just learned that the crash was intentional,” the blonde news reporter said. The screen flashed to clips of the accident, which brought back instant memories of the blood and chaos and sickened Liv further. “Details are still coming out, but the name of the deceased victim has been released. The man pronounced dead at the scene is the former city council member from Ward One, Remington Harcourt.” A picture of the councilman appeared. “You might remember his name from the scandal that broke last fall during his run for re-election when he was exposed for being a member of the local sex clubs his campaign was protesting. According to a source at the police station, Mr. Harcourt left an apparent suicide note in his truck, vilifying the owners of the club that had been the focal point of his antifamily crusade.”

The screen changed to a picture of The Den, and Liv groaned. Her mug clicked against the counter when she sunk onto the stool, legs weak. This was exactly what Noah had predicted.

“Now the story doesn’t end there,” the reporter continued, the foreshadowing enough to have Noah cursing. “It turns out the SUV Mr. Harcourt hit is registered to The Den. Three occupants of that car remain in intensive care and four were admitted and released with non-life threatening injuries. We’ve been unable to confirm this information, but one source says the SUV was carrying seven people associated with The Den, allegedly three of the owners.”

The reporter went on to fill in theories and presumptions about Harcourt’s motives, but Liv tuned it out. She already knew why he’d done it. Revenge.

Her phone pinged almost in unison with Noah’s, her screen showing a text from Vanessa, which was quickly followed by ones from Rock, Seth and Marcus. The text group she’d set up yesterday showed they weren’t the only ones watching the news.

Noah flicked the channel to another station as soon as the reporter ended her segment. Sure enough, there was another breaking news banner with a different reporter putting his own spin on the Remington Harcourt story. Noah cursed again and wiped a hand over his mouth.

“Now what?” she asked, not waiting for the second reporter to finish. The news was out, and any chance of hiding was gone. It was only a matter of time before more names were released. She didn’t doubt that.

Noah’s eyes were hard and flat when he looked up. “We already prepared,” he said, the cold rigidity of his voice chilling her with foreboding. “Now we defend.”

Chapter Twelve

Noah strode through the hospital entrance, brushed the raindrops off his suit and proceeded down the maze of hallways to the Intensive Care wing. The extra walk was worth evading the collection of news trucks and reporters who had gathered near the closer entrance.

He’d been moving nonstop since the story broke that morning, and the mess was only getting deeper. The elevator doors swished open on the ICU floor, the abnormal quiet broken by the click of computer keys and squeak of shoes on the polished tile. The rush and adrenaline of the media was starkly countered by the somber stillness of the waiting room.

Seth rose when Noah entered the room, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from commenting on the man’s appearance. Two days’ growth of beard couldn’t hide the dark circles or the haunted look in his eyes. Limp strands of hair hung around his face, having escaped the messy knot at his nape. The swelling had receded on his lips, but a purple bruise showed dark on his cheek. At least he’d managed to change his clothes, thanks to Liv and Carter.

Noah didn’t hesitate to pull Seth into a tight embrace. Hurt radiated from the man in almost visible waves that struck deeply within Noah. Seth clung to him for several long seconds before he stepped back to wipe the moisture from his cheeks. Noah kept a hand on his shoulder and gave the man a moment to collect himself.

Seth cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders with a forced determination. “Thanks,” he said, his voice strong. “You have news?”

“I do.” Noah motioned to the corner they’d taken over. Cali and Carter were there, along with Kendra’s parents and two people he didn’t know. He’d already spoken to Rock, who was at the club arranging more security, and Liv was at the center. Thankfully, V and Marcus had finally agreed to stay away now that the news had broken.

Empty cups and half-eaten bags of chips littered the coffee table next to a stack of worn magazines and a couple of paper bags from a local sub shop.

“Are Dek and Allie in the rooms?”

“Yeah,” Seth answered. “Do you need them?”

“No. Just pass the info on when you get a chance.”

“They’re moving Jake out of Critical Care,” Cali said. She lifted her hand to her neck, only to flinch when she hit the padded neck brace. She fisted her hand and dropped it to her lap to pick at a chip in her nail polish, her foot bobbing on her crossed leg. A bruise bloomed beneath the white bandage on her forehead, a reminder of the blood that had clotted her blond hair but was now gone.

The good news about Jake was tempered by the lack of it for the other two. No one said that, but it hung there anyway.

“I can go sit with Kendra if you need Deklan,” Kendra’s mom offered, already setting her book aside.

“That’s all right, Mrs. Morgan.” He gave her an appreciative smile. “I doubt he’ll leave anyway.” Noah wouldn’t if the roles were reversed.

She slumped back in the chair and leaned into her husband when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Her designer suit was wrinkled, her eyes puffy and red, but she still managed to have an air of elegance.

He took in the newcomers and stepped up to introduce himself. Kendra’s brother and sister, Chris and Emily, exchanged greetings, then he took a seat and dropped straight into business mode.

“The police released the names,” he said, making eye contact with each person sitting around him. Cali’s inhale was the hiss of exclamation he’d expected. “Everyone who was in the car has been identified. At this point, I don’t know which names will be used, but the information will most likely go out today.” He checked his phone. Three hours until the evening broadcasts.

Kendra’s father let out a low curse and leaned in. “Can’t we stop them? I’ve got a lot of contacts I can use.”

Noah appreciated the man’s offer, but it wouldn’t help. “At this point, it’s better to let the information flow. It’s too late to stop, and attempting to do so will only make it more powerful.” He glanced at Cali, who’d turned ashen. “It’s likely that Jake, Deklan and Seth’s names will be disclosed as the listed owners of The Den.” Her eyes closed, and Carter grabbed hold of her hand, which she clenched.

For the thousandth time he cursed the situation. So many lives are going to be turned over and changed because of the revengeful pettiness of one man.

“What about the rest of you?” Seth asked from behind his clasped hands. His toe tapped a silent beat on the carpet.

“I don’t know.” And that really pissed him off. He couldn’t prepare for the unknown. He assessed the reaction of Kendra’s family, his focus holding on her dad. There was no easy way to approach this. “Mr. Morgan. You’re aware of what kind of club The Den is, right?”

Deklan had given him a brief summary of Kendra’s past and her parents’ knowledge of it when they’d talked on the phone. Confirming their understanding of what their daughter did with her fiancé was about as low on his wish list of things to do as having bamboo jammed under his nails.

Damn it. Anger burned up his spine to flush him with heat. He couldn’t shake the sense he was committing an act of betrayal against Kendra and Deklan. Their private desires should never have to be laid out before their families and the world to judge.

“It’s Thomas,” Mr. Morgan answered in clipped notes. He glanced at his other children, whose faces were filled with a confusion his lacked. “Eleanor and I do. Kendra told us everything when she met Deklan.”

Relief washed through Noah. At least he didn’t have to go into a detailed explanation of BDSM to the older couple. A bit of anxiety released with his shallow exhale, yet the resentment remained.

“What are you—”

“We’ll discuss it later.” Thomas cut off his son, adding a sharp look that had the other man glaring back.

“I have to talk to my kids,” Cali said, a quake in her voice. She blinked a few times, her focus distant. “I don’t...” She bit her lip, and Carter hauled her into a gentle hug. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain it to them. Or my parents.” She closed her eyes, held within Carter’s arms but seemingly unaware of the offered support.

Helplessness swirled with the frustration and anger to eat at Noah’s gut. He searched his mind for ways to help Cali explain, support he could give or a way out, but he had nothing.

“Will they understand?” Thomas asked. “I can talk to your parents if you’d like.”

Cali looked at him, unmoving for a moment. “Thank you. I appreciate your offer.” She sat up, and Carter let her go when she rolled her shoulders. “But I need to handle this.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Carter insisted.

“But I do,” she bit back. “It’s my problem.”

“We’re all in this.” Seth’s calm voice eased through the stress that held them all. “It’s not just your problem.”

“Not this part. This is my life, and I have to deal with my family’s judgments.” There was no way to counter that truth.

“You know we’re here for you, right?” Noah asked her. The pathetic uselessness of his words wasn’t lost on him. Cali was facing the potential loss of her family if they judged her harshly, in addition to a public outing of desires that the majority of society deemed as wrong.

She stood and moved to stare out a window at the rain-drenched day. Carter started to rise, but Noah placed a hand on his knee to stop him.

“I know what she’s going through,” he insisted. “Losing your family because of who you are.”

“Give her a moment.”

Carter waged a silent battle with him before he slowly settled back into the chair.

“Allie needs to prepare, too,” Seth said, shifting the focus off Cali. “Her family is extremely conservative. There’s also her law firm.”

“Would someone please tell me what everyone is so afraid of?” Chris asked. He brushed off his father’s hand and leaned into the group. “So the asshole who hit them had a vendetta. But why? What is so damn secretive about this club?” His gaze passed over everyone, yet no one jumped to answer.

The man was a younger version of his father. Brown hair neatly styled in a fashionable cut that went with his tailored clothes and Italian loafers. Noah recognized the brand. In fact, he identified with the man in many ways.

His sister nudged his arm and handed over her phone. She tucked a length of hair behind her ear and gave them a weak smile. “That might be easier.”

Of course. The Den’s website. Conservative and nicely presented, it matched the image of the club. Yet the information was clear on what the club offered.

Chris gaped, tapped the screen a few times and cleared his throat before he lifted shocked eyes to his parents. “You know about this?” They gave slow nods. “I thought... I didn’t think... Christ.” He stared at the ceiling, and Emily eased her phone out of his clenched hand. “I thought Eric forced her into that stuff. I didn’t know she wanted it.”

“Why does it matter?” his sister asked, getting in his face. “It’s her life. Her choices. And we’ve seen how Deklan treats her like a queen.”

“But I don’t need to know about this.” He pointed at her phone.

“Exactly,” Emily exclaimed. “That’s the whole point of this discussion. No one needs to know about any of this, but the choice is gone. That bastard took his life and ruined theirs. Kendra’s in a coma and when she wakes up, she’ll have this...this mess to deal with. I wish he was still alive so he could rot in jail. He doesn’t deserve to get off so easy. It’s not fair.”

She gulped in a breath and collapsed into the seat, tears rolling down her cheeks. The silence engulfed them after her rant.

Chris swore and tucked her head to his chest when he hugged her. “I’m sorry, Em,” he whispered. “You’re right. None of this is fair.”

Seth met Noah’s eyes, his silent question of blame flowing between them. Noah shook his head at the man, but Seth thrust to his feet and stalked to the other side of the room.

Fucking shit. Noah buried his hands in his hair and tried to find answers where there were none. Seth was the one who’d leaked the video that had eventually outed Harcourt as an abusive Dom last fall. The man’s fall from grace had been harsh but brief from a media standpoint. He’d withdrawn from the re-election race and seemingly disappeared shortly after resigning from the council.

Now with the circumstances reversed, Noah had a different perspective on the event. One that shoveled the guilt and regret so deep he had no idea how to get rid of it. And he’d been only a bystander in the event. Had he advised them wrong? Were they all culpable, even if someone else had given the video to the press?

The condemning questions that evolved into a guilty mantra wouldn’t help. He’d gone that route after Beth and in the end it hadn’t changed a thing. She was still dead, and even though he still blamed himself, she was the one who’d committed the act.

Just like Harcourt had.

He sat up, his gaze going to Seth. The man was hunched over with his hands hiding his face in a chair by the door, as far from them as he could get. With the weight of responsibility holding him down, Noah stood.

Thomas caught his eye, his shrewd gaze narrowed in question. Noah subtly shook him off. “Not now,” he said, then turned to Carter. “Go to her.” He lifted his chin toward Cali and went to Seth. “Hey.” He clamped a hand on the man’s shoulder and sat next to him. “I know what you’re thinking, and you need to stop.”

“How?” The single word held a drowning dose of torment.

“Harcourt did this, not you.”

“But if I hadn’t—”

“Then he’d still be abusing men who weren’t given a choice to say no,” Noah insisted, reinforcing his conviction with a hard shake of Seth’s shoulder. “You acted with good intentions. No one could’ve predicted this would happen.”

“But I didn’t.”

He had to lean in to hear the low words. “You didn’t what?”

“I acted because I was mad. I wanted revenge for Tyler. Period.” Seth looked up, his expression a mix of pain and conviction. “I wasn’t thinking of anyone else. Now that one selfish act has caused all of this.” He swung his arm out to encompass the room. “I did this,” he snarled.

Noah held his stare through several deep breaths, heart racing with the importance of finding the right response. “Were you driving Harcourt’s truck?”

Seth frowned and turned away. “Don’t.”

“What? Speak the truth?”

“You can’t make this better.”

Noah winced at the direct hit. “But you can make it worse if you don’t snap the fuck out your self-pity act.”

Seth whipped around, fist poised to strike.

“Do it,” Noah goaded, tensing. “Then you can feel guilty about that, too.”

Seth’s fist wavered before he let it fall to his side. “You dick.”

There was no heat in the words, and Noah released the breath he’d been holding. “I try not to be, but somehow I still manage it.”

Seth snorted and wiped a hand over his mouth. “Join the club.”

Noah braced his forearms on his legs to copy Seth’s pose. A scan of the room showed Thomas and Chris watching their exchange with mirroring expressions of avid interest and speculation.

He lowered his voice and nudged Seth with his knee. “You can’t carry the blame for this. It’s too much, and the other two need you to be strong, not buried under guilt that isn’t yours to bear.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“I know.” Damn, did he know. Noah could sense Seth studying him, but he kept his gaze on the worn industrial carpet.

“Beth?”

Noah grimaced, hands clenching in reflex. The instinct to brush off the question was right there. He didn’t talk about her. Couldn’t for the longest time. The sick churn of the exact guilt he was telling Seth to let go of twisted and stabbed at his chest. He was a fucking hypocrite.

He hung his head and found himself admitting, “Yes.”

Seth said nothing for a while, and Noah silently thanked him for that. His throat was dry from all of the words and emotions that were stuck in it. Four years was a long time to stay silent.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Noah finally rasped. “Trust me. It doesn’t help.”

“And what do I do when the others follow the trail back to me? What then?”

“God, Seth.” Noah met the man’s eyes. “Do you think everyone else is blame free? We all celebrated when Harcourt was exposed. He was a two-faced bastard who practiced abuse under the guise of dominance. I doubt any of us felt an ounce of sympathy for him. Not when he was exposed. Not when he lost his job. His respect in the community. His family. To us, it was justified by his actions. Something he deserved.”