Текст книги "Relinquish"

Автор книги: M. N. Forgy

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

SEVENTEEN

LANDON

“Landon, where is the new girl’s paperwork?” my father asks, shifting through some papers sitting in front of him. A couple of times a week, we meet to discuss business, usually in a room that adjoins my office. It’s simple with just a large table and chairs. I sit here, tapping my fingers along the top of the table, lost in thought as my father rambles on.

Nobody tells me no, and no woman walks away from me – especially Charlie. I close my eyes, the darkness behind my lids vibrating with Charlie. Her long, brown hair and small frame. Her attitude is feisty, but her shaky hands give away she’s petrified.

Charlie is different. She’s not like any woman I’ve come across before. The taste of her is sweet, her smell an aphrodisiac. My cold exterior with her is failing miserably. I lose myself around her.  I can’t keep my mind set on what I need to do, and what’s expected of me. All I can think about is… Charlie. I clench my eyes hard and inhale a deep breath. It makes me feel sick that I would even think it, but Charlie is worth breaking my commitment to my mother.

“Landon!”

I promised her I would bring back the family name. I told her I would see to it that the Blackwell name become one of respect and power again. That I would make this estate rise from the shame my father placed upon it. But how can I do that if I break the first step in making this place strong again? I took Charlie to make a statement to the thugs of Vegas, that the Blackwells were back. That—

“Landon!”

I open my eyes, finding my father, Roman, and Veronica staring at me, my father and Veronica in annoyance and Roman with concern.

“I’ll get it to you,” I mutter, sitting up in my chair.

“Where did you say you picked her up from again?” my father questions, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes.

“Mick. She was one of Mick’s girls,” I inform him, exhaling a tired breath. I’ve told them this before. Them asking me over and over again, and them not calling her by her first name even though I’ve told them it before, it’s them telling me they don’t approve. Which means I’m probably doing something right.

“I’m not so sure of this one. She’s…” Veronica trails off, flipping her hair over her shoulder. I straighten my tie and smirk. Veronica doesn’t like her because she smells competition. Call it what you will, but Veronica and I have played a game of back and forth behind our parents’ back since my father and Tara got together.

I don’t care about Veronica, not at all.  In fact, I haven’t even slept with her. I just like to watch her become so desperate for what lies in my pants. The woman is pathetic. I’ve seen escorts with more self-respect.

“Nobody really cares what you think, Veronica. In fact, why in the hell are you even in here?” I tilt my head to the side, eyeing her. She gasps, her eyes wide as she looks at my father in shock.

“Landon!” my father scolds.

“Do I need to remind you, Father, that I am in charge now? Not you, and surely not Veronica. You signed everything over to me, remember? And Charlie is mine, and she’ll be our finest girl yet.” I smile wolfishly at them, making Veronica scoff.

“Get me the paperwork. In charge or not, this is a family business and we are family,” Father insists.

“You’ll get it when I get it to you, Miller.” Venom laces my every word. I’m not sure why he’s taking interest. He’s never cared before.

“Don’t you use my first name. I am your father, and you will call me as so!” he roars, slamming his poor excuse of a fist on the table. I detest calling him my flesh and blood, but it’s easier than listening to him ramble on about how family sticks together. It’s bullshit. Where was he when my mother was dying?

“Yeah, sure. Are we done here?” I push my chair out and stand, fastening the button of my jacket.

My father gives me a cynical eye and quietly nods.

CHARLIE

Heading toward the kitchen, after changing out of my dress and into something more comfortable, I find Tara leaving the dining room with a tray of food.

“Oh, are you hungry?” she asks, her tone friendly. I smile and nod. Her blonde, silky hair reaches her breasts, and she’s wearing a short robe, revealing the tops of her thighs down to her bare feet.

“Yeah, I’m just heading to the kitchen to get something,” I reply, running my hand along the dining room table.

“They just kicked me out. They’re getting ready for the party tonight. You can come to my room and watch a movie, help me finish off these chicken strips,” Tara offers with a friendly smile.  “There’s no way I can finish them all.” She giggles and scrunches her shoulders up.

“Nobody wants to run off to your room and be buddy-buddy, Tara,” a tall, black-haired woman insults, walking out of the kitchen. Tara swallows and looks the other way, her expression sheepish.

“And you are?” I ask, glaring at the woman. She has long hair with a gold band wrapped around her head, with a long, flowered golden dress to match. Her eyes are wide and colored green, her lips blood-red to match her nails.

“I’m Tabatha, the number one escort of the estate,” she sneers, popping her hip out proudly and crossing her arms.

I scoff. This woman seriously has her priorities messed up.

“Tara, I would love to hang out,” I state, my eyes never leaving Tabatha’s. She snorts and smacks her lips together in a ‘go figure’ manner.

“Veronica was right,” Tabatha smarts.

I furrow my brows in confusion. “About what?”

Tabatha gives a tight-lipped smile, and walks past Tara and me. “Nothing. Enjoy your loser party,” she remarks. “Don’t forget to throw up afterwards, Tara,” Tabatha mocks.

After she leaves, I look over and find Tara looking down at her tray of food sadly.

“Does Miller know she talks to you like that?” I scoff. Tara frowns. “No, I can take care of myself,” she snaps.

“I didn’t mean-“

“You don’t have to join me. I’m sure you can get some cookies or something.”

“No, let’s go,” I insist. I am very intrigued by Tara.

She looks up, her face bright and cheery.

“Really?” she whispers. I nod and grab a chicken strip from the tray.

“Follow me,” she instructs. “With the party tonight, the girls are going to be wandering around the estate. They aren’t all that bitchy, though,” she continues.

I follow her up the stairs, and instead of going toward the left or right wings of the house, we go straight, passing a bunch of windows that display the setting sun. She presses her back against a door, juggling the food tray, and pushes it open.

“This is where Miller and I stay. Make yourself comfy,” Tara remarks, setting the tray on the bed. I look around, noticing fancy clothes all over the floor and an unmade bed with gray blankets and sheets. The floor is made up of white carpet, and the wall in front of the bed is nothing but shelves of books and movies. A large TV displays a movie tucked between the bookcases, but I can’t tell what’s playing.

“I’m going to use the restroom and change,” she tells me, prancing off toward a closed door. My eyes catch another doorway next to the bathroom that’s open. I glance in, finding a desk and more books and files along the wall behind it. My breath takes a sudden absence. This is Miller’s office. If I’m going to find anything, I bet it’s in that desk or in one of those files.

I look back at the bathroom door and notice it’s still closed and Tara is singing. I quickly head into the office and pull open some drawers of the desk. My heart races that Miller might catch me rummaging through his desk. I find a few empty bottles of booze in the first drawer. I sigh, pulling open another. My eyes dart toward the door nervously before shuffling through the remains. I find some paperwork from other escorts and their earnings, but it’s not what I’m looking for. Shit! I throw it back in its place, ready to give up, when my eyes catch a divider in the back of the drawer.

I purse my lips in curiosity and slide the drawer out more, finding some folders with dust on them. I open one, dust falling on my lap, and find some older photos of women, like they’re at a party or something. My eyes trail across Landon in one of the pictures, just as serious in the photo as he is now. I close the tan folder and thumb through the other files that lay under it until I find bright red lettering printed on one. I pull it out and my head spins, my stomach falls, and I feel like I may vomit. It says Evans across it. Evans, like my last name? What could Miller have on me?

“Charlie?” My heart beats quickly, and I shove the folder in the back of my shorts, pulling my shirt down over it – or trying to, at least. My shirt’s too small, not covering much.

“There you are.” She smiles, walking into the office.

“I love this desk, and the view is amazing,” I respond, my voice cracking nervously as I point at the windows. My hands are trembling and my heart is sputtering. I never was any good at keeping secrets.

“Yeah, Miller loves it.” She puts her hands on her hips and leans against the doorframe. “I know what you’re thinking.”

I cock my head to the side, confused.

“You think I’m some gold digger, and that I’m only with Miller for his money and power.”

“I—” I’m not sure what to say, because that very thought has crossed my mind.

“You’d be wrong. Just like the rest of the people at this estate. I love Miller.” She smiles, and her eyes fill with tears. The reaction confuses me. “I hate this estate. When he talks about it, or gets involved with it, it makes him a monster. He’s not a monster, though. He’s so sweet and he’s…” She stops and wipes her face.

“He’s different with me. One day… one day, I will get him away from this fucking place.” She levels me with a serious look. “I’ll do anything to make sure that happens.”

I swallow hard, not sure what to say. The only vibe I get with Miller is evil. But as far as Miller being a monster when it comes to the estate, I’d say his son Landon is just like him.

“You wanna eat? It’s probably getting cold.” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder. This woman is so left and right with her emotions, I can’t keep up.

“Actually, Tara, I’m getting kind of tired. I think I’m going to go lie down before the gala,” I lie, standing up from the desk. I watch my steps, trying to make sure the folder doesn’t fall out of my shorts.

“Oh, yeah? Are you okay?” she questions with concern. I head toward her and nod, keeping my back out of her line of sight.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a lot of stress from preparing for my first client,” I half-laugh. Tara gives a wide smile and pats my shoulder.

“You’ll do great, I know it. I have a knack for things like that.” She scrunches her nose. Walking back into the bedroom, I head toward the door to leave.

“I’ll see you tonight, Tara.” I close the door behind me and let out the breath I was holding. My back is soaked with a nervous sweat, and my legs feel like jelly with the amount of adrenaline coursing through them. I hurry down the hall, ready to get in my room and see what’s in this file when Miller, Veronica, and a beautiful redhead turn the corner. I panic, my vision blurring from the amount of blood pumping through my body at such a high speed. I pull the file from my shorts and toss it into a plant next to a window, scared Miller might notice the file from my short shirt or something.

I walk quickly, trying to get far from the plant when Miller notices me.

“Charlie?” He furrows his brows.

“Miller,” I croak.

“What are you doing down here?” he continues.

“I was just having lunch with Tara,” I reply, trying to muster a smile.

“Oh,” he mutters, looking me over. His eyes narrow into slits as he drills a hole into me. I look away, breaking the uncomfortable eye contact.

“Well, I gotta go,” I squeak, walking past them quickly. I look over my shoulder, finding Veronica and Miller still watching me, and closely.

Shit, they’re on to me.

EIGHTEEN

CHARLIE

“Charlie?” shrieks from the phone intercom, the voice nearly bursting my eardrum.

“Yeah, Jean?” I reply.

“Landon asked me to call you and inform you that your date will arrive within the hour.”

I roll my eyes. “Thank you, Jean.” I resume my pacing of the bedroom floor.

“I have to get those files,” I mutter to myself. “But how?”

My door opens, stopping me in my mission to distress the carpet.

Jayden walks in and shuts the door behind her. Her short green dress, sequined with pearls, fits her figure flawlessly, and her crazy hair’s still just as wild as I remember. It’s kinky, curled, and sticking out everywhere.

“Jayden!” I yell, flinging myself into her. She wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tightly.

“Man, I missed you,” she whispers into my neck.

“I’ve missed you, too,” I return.

She pulls from me and looks around my room. “This place, Charlie. It’s—”

“Intense, I know,” I interrupt, shaking my head.

“You hit the jackpot.” She laughs, sitting on my bed.

I smile. It is great, but I’d rather not be owned by the Blackwells.

“You need to get me a job here,” she continues, chuckling.

“You look good,” I change the subject.

She looks down at herself before glancing up at me.

“This dress is stupid-nice. I’ve never had anything like it before. I was scared to wear it at first, but now I may never take it off,” she remarks, her tone serious.

“I know all too well what that’s like,” I murmur, glancing over at the black dress Landon specifically asked for, hanging on the doorknob to the bathroom.

“So, how long do you have to stay here?” Jayden asks, fiddling with her dress.

“I’m not sure.” I sigh, sitting on the bed next to her.

“And Landon? How are you and him?” She peers up at me, her gray eyes pinning me. I take in a sudden breath, looking away.

“I’m not sure. I feel that he wants to be with me sometimes, but then he blinks and I’m back to being the whore.” I shake my head, the feeling of him walking away stinging like it just happened.

“Do you want to be with him?” she questions, leaning her head to the side. Her kinky curls shift to the side, and her eyes smile as she waits for my reply.

I take in a sudden breath. “I– I don’t know,” I stammer. “I do, but not if I have to pretend the whole time,” I confess.

“Pretend?” Jayden questions, her face twisting in confusion.

“It’s something that—”

The phone rings, catching our attention. I sigh and lean over Jayden to answer it.

“Yeah?” I answer.

“It’s ‘yes’, not ‘yeah’,” Landon scorns.

I roll my eyes and huff into the line. “Did you need something?”

“Your client is here. Send Jayden down,” Landon demands before hanging up. I growl and slam the phone down.

“That him?” Jayden asks, jutting her chin toward the phone.

“Yeah, it was. He wants you downstairs. My client is here,” I inform, fidgeting with my fingers.

Jayden nods and stands. She walks to the door and stops, looking over her shoulder at me.

“Charlie, you’re a good person. You may not come from a lot, but that doesn’t make you any less special. But this?” She point to the walls, ceiling, everything that makes up the Blackwell Estate. “These people are not good people. Don’t let them ruin you.” She turns the doorknob and exits, leaving me in an emotional state. I know her heart is in a good place, but I don’t care. My heart won’t listen. It wants what it wants, and it wants Landon. My heart aches as soon as his name drifts through my mind.

I care about Landon, but I’m not so sure he cares about me. Jayden, she cares about me. I need to keep focused on my client tonight and think about how to get out of here. Away from Landon, and back to Jayden.

I throw the white dress Landon ordered me to wear to the side and look for something else. Defying Landon feels great. I grab a sequined dress with silver jewels around the bust which slowly fades into blue. It’s strapless and will reveal a lot of my back, but it’s beautiful and will show Landon I couldn’t care less about pleasing him. It’s a step into the right direction of being done with him.

I put it on and grab some silver heels from a shoe box. Tilting my head upside-down, I ruffle my hair, giving it some volume before running to the bathroom and applying some bluish eye shadow and red lipstick.

I head toward the stairs, the noise of the crowd below informing me everyone is here. My heart picks up its beat, and my palms begin to sweat. I’m not sure how well I’ll do around a big crowd.

Rounding the banister, I find the floor littered with people dressed from tuxes to the most colorful of dresses. I swallow hard and look down at my dress, suddenly insecure.

“This is Charlie, your escort for the evening,” Landon introduces. I force my legs to move, taking me down the steps. I look up from watching my feet, making sure I don’t trip over my dress, and find Landon. He’s standing beside a gorgeous man with dirty-blond hair, buzzed on the sides, longer on top, and swept to the side. He has high cheekbones, thin lips, and cheeks full of blond stubble. He’s tall, built, and looks hot in his black tux and blue tie.

“I’m Hudson. Hudson Mathew. And my, my, am I lucky tonight or what?” he compliments, his voice scratchy but so sexy.

I blush and shift on my feet nervously. When someone compliments me, I don’t know how to react or what to say.

“Thank you,” I respond, tucking a loose hair behind my ear. Landon sighs loudly, catching my attention. Squinting, his hands in his pockets, he looks displeased. I look down at myself, curious if I have done something wrong, when I realize I didn’t wear the dress he wanted. I look back up and smirk at him, a blaze of excitement at my rogue behavior coursing through me.

“Shall we, Hudson?” I ask, still staring at Landon with a look of satisfaction.

“Yes, of course,” Hudson responds, hooking his arm into the crook of my own.

Walking into the ballroom, I can’t help but gasp. There are a bunch of little tables with the most gorgeous décor setting on them. Some kind of white candle holders contain three candlesticks with white and light orange-colored roses wrapped around it. Looking up, there are a paper flowers matching the color of the roses on the table; there must be hundreds of them. Not to mention the millions of twinkle lights surrounding the tables, dance floor, and doors leading to an outside patio I hadn’t noticed before.

How was all this put together in a matter of hours?

“Are you hungry?” Hudson asks, gesturing toward a table.

“Yes, thank you.” We head over to a table, and Hudson pulls a chair out for me to sit before sitting himself. I can’t help but smile at his manners.

“Landon said you were breathtaking.” Hudson grins and runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“Landon said that?” My mouth forms into a big smile thinking about Landon calling me ‘breathtaking’.

Hudson smirks and gives a small nod. “He did.” He chuckles.

I wince at my thoughts. No Landon. Who cares what he thinks? He isn’t thinking of you.

I place my hand on Hudson’s arm, trying to get him to loosen up. I look around the room, curious if Landon is watching. Just as I turn my head back toward Hudson, my eyes find Landon. He’s looking right at me, his brows pinched together like he’s angry. His black hair, which was swept back, is now disheveled, like he’s been running his hands through it countless times. He looks over his shoulder suddenly and I frown in confusion at first, but then I see Tabatha wrap herself around his side.

I take a deep breath, trying to control my jealousy, and look back at Hudson. He takes a sip of his water and looks at me.

“You have this raw beauty about you that you just don’t see in girls anymore,” Hudson compliments, his words making me swoon. Not enough, though, because I find myself looking back over at Landon and Tabatha. Her hands are on his chest and down around his backside. With that, I grab Hudson by the lapels of his jacket and smash my red lips to his. It’s not intimate, and there’s no spark, but it’s needed to taunt Landon. With the way he’s been playing with me, it’s only fair that I get to mess with his head right back.

Hudson’s eyes widen, and he resists briefly before giving in and returning the kiss. I open my eyes, looking over at where Landon was standing, finding it empty. I pull away from Hudson and look around, but I don’t see Landon anywhere. I sigh and run my hands through my hair in irritation.

After eating salmon and drinking wine, the DJ puts on Joe Strummer and The Mescaleros singing “Mondo Bongo.” My lips part and my fingers grip the tablecloth with unease. The song Landon and I danced to. Images of my lustful state and his heavy stare flash behind my eyes.

“Do you want to dance?” Hudson asks, pulling me from my thoughts. My stomach falls, and my eyes widen. Landon showed me how to dance, but I’m not sure if I can pull it off. Especially if my mind keeps taking me back to the way Landon’s skilled fingers explored me while this song played.

“Sure,” I respond weakly. Hudson grabs my hand, his palm not near as big as Landon’s, and pulls me to the dance floor.  I exhale a shaky breath and straighten my back, perfecting my frame. I raise my arms to place on Hudson’s shoulder and arm, getting into stance. Hudson cups my hand, his palm warm and slightly larger than mine, and his other hand tucks underneath my other arm and around my back.  He smiles at me and takes the lead, my feet following on instinct. I keep my chin held high, my frame locked as Hudson whisks us across the dance floor. His body isn’t as toned or muscled as Landon. In fact, Hudson’s sloppy compared to him.

Hudson dips his head toward me, the smell of soap strong. “You’re really good at this,” he whispers. I turn my head and give a tight-lipped smile.

“Who taught you to dance like this, baby?” Hudson continues. I have to bite my cheek at his term of endearment, as it sounds ridiculous coming from his mouth.

“Umm,” I mutter.

“I’ll take it from here, Hudson.” Landon thrusts his arm between us, causing us to separate.

“What are you doing?” I ask, irritated, yet my body melts.

Landon eyes Hudson, waiting for him to back up.

“Look, man, I paid—”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave now, Hudson.” Landon’s eyes burn with a brightness that has Hudson clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, sure, man,” Hudson finally replies, running his hand over the back of his neck. You can tell he’s intimidated by Landon. I can relate. The way Landon walks in a room and just instantly takes charge without having to say a word, it can be overwhelming.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I clip.

“Dance with me,” Landon insists, his eyes hooded.

“No,” I snap stubbornly, crossing my arms.

“Yes,” he commands, grabbing me by the hips and turning me to where my back is to his front. He deepens his hold on my waist and slams my backside against his groin. His cock is hard, poking me with its excitement. I glance over my shoulder at Landon. The corners of his mouth curl into a smirk, and my heart skips a beat. It’s impossible for me to stay away from him. I’ll never become immune to his charm.

He shifts his hips side to side, the smell of him filling my lungs. My body ignites, feeling the heat from Landon’s chest on my back.

I lift my arm, placing my hand on the nape of his neck, and loll my head back on his hard chest. My brown eyes exploring his emerald ones, he peers down at me. The way he looks at me, it’s as if he can see past the scars and walls I’ve put up. Like he sees the real me. Which is unnerving, because I don’t even know who I really am. He trails his fingers down my arm, the touch tickling the sensitive flesh under my arm.

I roll my hips against him, lowering myself then sliding back up, my ass teasing his already-hard length. He brushes the side of my temple with his nose, the sound of him taking a deep breath making me smirk.

“You’re incredibly sexy,” Landon rasps, his tone raw.  “You only dance with me like this, Charlie. Your body is mine, for me to feel, for me to take. Mine,” he growls in my ear, pushing his hips hard into my backside. My name slips from his mouth like a prayer, and I moan in response. “I’m not usually a jealous man, but you’ve made me one.” He presses his fingers into my hips harshly. “I don’t like it,” he growls again, jerking me from my lust-filled state.

“Landon!” I open my eyes and see a pale Roman standing in front of me. He looks like he’s seen a ghost, staring at Landon with wide eyes. I grimace, not sure why Roman is looking at Landon in such a way.

“A word.” Romans lifts a brow before walking off.

The song suddenly ends, and Landon lets go of me. My body weeps for his warmth and touch. I turn and find Landon looking out at the crowd, his jaw ticking.

“Go to your room, Charlie,” he demands, his tone suddenly harsh.

“What?” I ask, shocked. “You can’t just send me to my room like some child!” I yell, not caring who hears me. Damn it, I did it again. I let myself become consumed in his charm. I’m so weak.

Landon turns, leaning down to where our faces are mere inches from each other.

“I can, and I will. Now go to your room,” he whispers seriously, his breath hot against my face.

“Fuck you,” I grit, my jaw clenched with anger, my chest lifting and rising from my harsh breathing.

“Do as you’re told, Charlie, or I will personally escort you to your room and lock you in there myself,” he threatens, his brows narrowed. I stare off into the ballroom and find Jayden with Roman.

“I will make it to where you don’t see her for a while if you don’t go peacefully,” he continues.

I close my eyes and sigh. This feeling in my chest, is it admiration or hate toward Landon? Either way, it’s painful.

“Fine,” I whisper.

I head toward a laughing Jayden and Roman. I smile at Roman and pull Jayden by her elbow toward me.

“Hey, I’m going to go to bed. I’m not feeling well,” I tell her, lying through my teeth. But if I tell her the truth, she’ll cause a scene and Landon may not let me see her again. As much as I hate this, I’m in Landon’s house, and he has the cards.

“You sick?” Jayden questions, looking me over.

“The food’s just not settling well. I’m going to go to bed.” My eyes drift to Roman, nervously brushing his hair back with his hands and adjusting his shirt. I cock a brow and grab Jayden by her elbow, pulling her into our own little circle.

“What are you doing with him?” I whisper. She looks over her shoulder and grins wildly before looking back at me with bright eyes.

“He’s perfect. Laid-back, sloppy, and sexy to boot. Plus, he really seems to be into me.”

“He’s Landon’s brother,” I inform her, letting her know the sin he’s capable of.

She smiles even wider, her cheeks flushing against her tan skin. “That must be where the confidence comes from. Blackwell.”

I shake my head. My friend is gone. She’s been love-struck. I glower toward Roman, telling him everything I can’t say out loud with my stare. A ‘you hurt her and I’ll kill you’ kind of stare.

“We’ll talk about this later.” I kiss her cheek and hug her hard before pulling away and making my way toward my prison.