Craving Truths (The Razer Series Book 3) Read online

  “What if I fuck up?”

  “Then you fuck up.” She shrugged. “But I reckon you’re sick of fucking up, am I right?”

  This woman had me all figured out, and I realised with stark clarity why I’d not been overly anxious to meet her; she could see right through me like she knew every secret I held.

  The motherly way she had about her - I could cling to effortlessly. She’d be an easy woman to love, even easier to disappoint. It’s no wonder Ryder thought she hung the stars and then some. Taylor was the living, breathing embodiment I’d constantly yearned for, since the time I was old enough to understand I didn’t have what other little girls had. No mother to braid my hair before school, no mother to bake cookies with, no mother to go shopping with, or talk boys with. I understood the word ‘mama bear’ and Claire was right, it was Taylor.

  My friend’s hand had inched into mine under the table, Taylor noticing and smiled sweetly. “All in, Chrissie?”

  Blowing out a shaky breath, I jumped in, for once feeling confident I wouldn’t come out the other end covered in shit. “Yes.” I cleared my throat, repeating the word with more confidence. When Taylor beamed at me, I couldn’t help but bask in the sunshine she was throwing my way - even if for just a minute.

  “Now, get up off your arse and come give me a hug. I’m so happy to meet you!”

  Warren

  “I’ll see you Sunday, buddy.” Grinning at my little boy, I secured the strap of his seatbelt, making sure it was snug. Making sure he was safe.

  Kayleigh had climbed from her car when she’d seen me pull up and was now leaning against the passenger door of my car, meaning she wanted to talk, or rail on me, or dish out whatever beat down she saw fit for the day. Every time it was something different, yet always meant the same thing. Always left me feeling shitty.

  Kissing Kieran on the head, I ruffled his hair then shut the car door. We were past the crying stage which was just as well, those damned tears he spilled hurt more than anything. We’d been doing this song and dance long enough it had become routine and he was used to it now. The tears had dried long ago.

  “Where’d you take him today?” Kayleigh’s crossed arms and blatant fuck you attitude jarred at me.

  “Home. Just home, dinner and a movie. He wants to stay over next time.”

  “He has school.”

  There was always an excuse and it grated on me that my own child had never slept a single night under my roof in his whole life. “I can get him to school, Kayleigh.”

  “No.” Flat out refusal, her normal answer.

  “Just like that? No?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  She had my balls in her hand and every single time, I rolled over and let her squeeze them harder. I didn’t push for anything, knowing whatever requests would be met with a tirade of threats, that she’d take Kieran and not let me see him.

  “Sunday then?”

  “No sleepover.”

  “I fucking heard you, Kayleigh. I’m not deaf.”

  Pushing away from the car she walked the few short steps between us until we were almost toe to toe. “Watch your mouth, Warren.”

  I closed it, not opening it again until her tail lights dimmed in the distance and I was sitting in my car screaming my head off in frustration while I thumped the steering wheel. Something had to change. All these years later and the devil still owned me.

  Kayleigh had once been my entire life. I’d met her at sixteen, fallen in love, and had an impromptu wedding at seventeen for no other reason than I loved the girl and wanted to spend my life with her. I divorced her arse at twenty-three after finding out the whole seven years we’d been together had been a lie. Every Tom, Dick and Harry shared my sex life with me, or rather my wife, and I had been oblivious until I’d caught her with my best mate, Clive. Then the whole sordid truth had been thrown at me - by both of them. Thus, ended my marriage and my relationship with a boy I’d grown up with.

  Most people celebrated their divorce with a party, a sign of relief at the legalities being over. Two years it had taken for me and Kayleigh to finally sever those ties. I commiserated with a bottle of vodka and one last hoorah with the ex-Mrs. Fucked her bare in a moment of stupidity in the back seat of my car, then woke up one morning, two months later, to her banging my front door down. When I’d opened up, she’d waved a pregnancy stick at me and called me every derogatory name under the sun she could think of.

  And I was. Because I’d demanded a paternity test in light of all her previous indiscretions. Turned out the little blue thingy that had lit up that stick saying she was having a baby, was mine. My life changed.

  At thirty, I was a divorcee, a single parent when allowed. Kayleigh had made the last five years of my life hell, fucking misery had nothing on me. I gave an inch; she took a mile and then some.

  I couldn’t have girlfriends, didn’t even try, instead settled for seedy hookers I knew wouldn’t be looking for anything more than a good time. I liked sex, a lot of sex, but knowing my wife had fucked around on me since day dot and never held her tongue in reminding me how unsatisfied I’d always left her - well, doubts nestled in my head about how well I could actually please a woman. With a whore, it didn’t matter, there was no need to prove myself, I didn’t give a shit. I just wanted to get off and I used those whores to fuck a lot. Monty’s hadn’t always been the clean place it was now. For years I’d come down from London looking for something that wasn’t going to bite my arse on home ground.

  That first time I’d set eyes on Chrissie had changed it all, felt like I’d been winded. She was almost physically identical to Kayleigh, most likely why I looked twice at her and panicked, until I got closer. She may have resembled my ex in looks but was nothing like her in any other way. Monty’s went from occasional to regular, and the whores stopped. I never fucked another one of Charlie’s girls even though it was obvious Chrissie belonged to another man. A scary looking fucker called Gripp, with more tattoos than I’d ever seen on a single person until I’d met Ryder. I cleaned up my act and bided my time, to every man and his dog it was clear Gripp and Chrissie had an expiration date - I just had to wait it out.

  The night I found myself at the end of Monty’s long, dark hall with Chrissie on her knees and my dick stretching those cherry lips of hers - I thought I’d met heaven. Felt like the luckiest bastard in this world and the next. I knew I was nothing special, had heard all the stories about her, but I pretended it meant more than it did, that she wasn’t just using me because she was angry at Gripp. When I came down her throat and she lapped up every last bit, my name spilling from her lips before she darted her tongue out to lick them, I knew it would never be enough.

  I wanted the woman almost as much as I’d wanted Kayleigh when I was sixteen. There was the kicker though. Every time I caught myself staring at Chrissie, Kayleigh filled my head, and it was enough to give me cold feet and keep Chrissie at arm’s length.

  By the time we’d eventually fallen into bed with one another and promised it was just sex, I’d convinced myself it was all I was capable of giving her. That it was all I wanted between us.

  Sex - nothing more.

  And now, nothing at all. What the hell had I been thinking?

  Still sitting in the car park, I reached for my phone in the cup holder and pulled up her number. The photo assigned to her contact was one of us goofing around in bed at her flat. She looked happy, all aglow from an orgasm I’d given her not ten minutes before. I looked sedate, like I had no fucks to give. I hadn’t then, yet now, everything had changed again.

  What had gone down at her flat still weighed heavy on me, still had my head and conscience going in a hundred different directions. I wondered if it was the same for her. Of course, it would be, she wasn’t the type of person to kill a man, especially her father, and not have it eat away at her. Underneath her coat of armour and wild tattoos, Chrissie was soft as putty.

  Fuck it.

  Me: Coffee?

  We’d
never met outside the club or outside her flat, it had been sex all the way so I wasn’t sure what response I’d get, if any. I put the phone back in the cup holder then decided it was home time, best to try to push her out of my mind until she was ready. Tomorrow I wanted to persuade Ryder to let me come back to work, it was the only thing that could save my sanity right now.

  * * * * *

  The conversation with Ryder was strained at best. Not sure if I was on permanent leave - as in, no job to come back to - or annual leave, I didn’t push it. I understood his grievance with me, had known Chrissie was his baby sister but didn’t fully understand the dynamics. They hadn’t talked to one another, not in all the years I’d known both. Figuring I probably deserved it, I let him bawl at me that morning in the flat, but he was only getting it once. I was a grown man and nobody’s verbal punching bag, no matter who he was.

  “Can you drop by the restaurant? About three?” He sounded pleasant enough, but I could tell it was forced. I’d spent enough time in his company to know the difference.

  “Sure. It’s not my day with Kieran.”

  “Yeah, I know. We need to have a sit down and see where we’re both at.” He wanted to feel me out. About Chrissie, about Charlie. He had nothing to worry about on either count. “See you at three then.” No goodbye, or cheerio, just silence as he hung up.

  Okay, mood noted.

  I cleaned up around the flat I rented above a little shop in Beaufort, mindless tasks, trying to keep my head from wandering back to Chrissie and the reply to my offer of coffee that she hadn’t sent. It was answer enough really and by the time I needed to leave to meet with my boss, I’d worked myself into a heavy mood I couldn’t shift. The walk to the restaurant did nothing to allay my temperament. I paid no attention to my surroundings, only muttering hello’s if I heard one directed at me. I’d been here nearly two years, yet still felt like a stranger. I didn’t socialise, never went to the local pub and always took Kieran somewhere closer to Brighton, seeing as I had to pick him up from just outside London.

  The restaurant doors were flung wide open when I arrived, the smells of onions and varying vegetables wafting into the air. Ryder was washing glasses behind the bar.

  “Beer?” he offered as he dropped the towel to the wooden counter.

  Refusing, my disposition plunged further. The offer of a beer meant I wouldn’t be out back in the kitchen later. Not a great start. Placing the cleaned glass under the counter, Ryder came around and hitched his head to the side before walking to the far end of the room. This was an office conversation.

  “Take a seat.”

  I did as he asked and parked my butt in the chair in front of his desk. Rather than him sit behind it, like a boss scolding an employee should have, he dragged his office chair around and sat facing me. Sitting back, he hooked one leg over the other and looked relaxed. Too relaxed for the ensuing conversation.

  “I can’t find anything on you, Warren. Why is that?”

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I chuckled. Why did I think he wouldn’t dig? He needed dirt on me - I had dirt on him. I wasn’t angry about it, just surprised. He was protecting his own, I understood that perfectly well.

  “You don’t need anything on me.”

  “You’re squeaky clean.” It was his turn to chuckle. “Well, apart from your whores.” I managed to look suitably ashamed, like it was the right thing to feel but I wasn’t sorry. Wouldn’t apologise for them. “My sister’s not a whore, Warren.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” I snapped at him. She wasn’t, she’d simply made poor choices, often with little options. Same as I had. We were allowed them.

  “What is she? To you, I mean.”

  “I don’t know yet,” I confessed. The woman had my head going in circles and there was something about her that wasn’t easy to walk away from. She confused me, excited me, made me want to reach out for something more.

  “Something or nothing?” he pushed.

  “Something.” My answer was quick, not one I had to think about, hopefully giving him whatever he wanted to hear from me.

  “If you go into her club like that again, trust me, I’m going to do more than shout at you. Are we clear?”

  I groaned, disgusted with my actions as much as he was. “God, I don’t know what came over me. I need to apologise to her. Not gonna happen again, I can assure you.” If I did anything that stupid a second time, I’d come looking for Ryder myself for the beat down I’d deserve.

  “Your ex-wife is interesting.”

  “Now there’s a whore,” I laughed caustically.

  “Oh, yeah.” He may have found nothing on me but I’m sure there was plenty on Kayleigh, and why he was quietly amused. “Why don’t you have your boy more?”

  “She won’t allow it. I threaten court, she threatens to disappear. I figure the days I have with him are better than none at all.”

  “But you’d like more, right?”

  “I love my kid, Ryder. It goes without saying, don’t imply otherwise.”

  “Hey.” He held his hands out in front of him. “Not implying anything, trying to get a read of the situation is all.”

  “Fucked up is what it is.”

  “I want you back in next week.” The change in subjects were giving me whiplash.

  “Work?” I asked.

  “Yes. I hired a temp for a fortnight, but I don’t feel right sending him away before his time’s up, even on full pay. Guy’s eager. Let’s just put it down to two weeks paid holiday?”

  My relief was immediate. I still had a job to return to, so I wasn’t going to moan. The head chef job I did for Ryder and Lucca at Sapori D’Italia, their restaurant, was the only one I’d ever truly enjoyed, the only kitchen I’d felt at home in, mostly due to the men I worked for.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m a fair man, Warren. You know this, and if you didn’t, it’s time you learnt. You’ve been with me long enough.”

  “I do, know that, I mean. But this is hardly an everyday situation. I need work to ground me, get me out my head, because right now it’s feeling a little fucking messy in there.”

  “Trouble sleeping?”

  I wagged my head slightly and rubbed a finger under one eyelid. Yeah, I was fuck tired. “You wanna come up to the house for a few days? Having folks around might help.”

  “I’m hoping Chrissie’s gonna reply to my text,” I quickly added, “for coffee.”

  “You two need to sort it out between you. I ain’t that happy, you know it, but you’re both adults, got your own heads to think with. She could probably do with someone like you around. Just don’t go chewing her up and spitting her out. If you can’t give her what she deserves, you need to leave it be.”

  “Don’t fuck her around. Got it.”

  “Things are going to get hot over Charlie not being around. Folks are gonna come knocking her door soon. She’s not gonna let me interfere so I have to watch from a distance.”

  “What kind of folks?”

  “Not fair one’s like me, that’s for sure.” His quiet tone gave away the worry he was trying to hide. “Can I trust you, Warren? Trust you not to throw my sister under the bus?”

  I shook my head, “I wasn’t there, didn’t see anything, no clue what you’re talking about.” Saying it was easy.

  “Good man.”

  That was how we left the heavy conversation. By the time I walked out an hour later, I felt far better knowing my livelihood was safe but queasy over the fact Chrissie might not be.

  She needed to hurry up and reply or I was going to be paying her a visit at the club, this time on better behaviour.

  Chrissie

  Last day at the Loft. I’d refused a trip to Beaufort yet another time with Ryder, still not ready to walk down that road. The flat was silent as I wandered to the kitchen for coffee, everyone presumably off doing their day. Once I’d made my drink, I sat at the kitchen island, idly twirling my new house keys through my fingers, lost in thought.
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  A brand-new start.

  This was what Ryder was offering. Was I being too greedy wanting to take what he wanted to give, to covet it close to my chest?

  I thought about Charlie, how I’d never wanted for material things, how they came with a price, every single time. From the outside, I looked like the spoiled brat with the LV clutch bags and diamonds in my ears. On the inside nothing had been further from the truth. Emotional neglect was a real, true thing. My life had been miserable bar the few scant scraps of affection Shaun had thrown my way when he felt so inclined, or forgot I was a favour to Charlie.

  Having killed my father weighed heavy on me, my shoulders sagged with grief too, for having taken another life with my very hands, no matter who it was. I didn’t miss him; how could one miss a man like him? Still, his death tugged at the dark parts of me and cut me open, it was only when the lights went out did I dare to bleed willingly and let the pain consume me.

  I was being greedy, didn’t deserve anyone’s love or care. I was a monster disguised in a pretty package. There was nothing good about me.

  A wayward tear splashed onto the screen of my phone I’d placed on the island in front of me, my keys clattering next to it. It was only a matter of time before my wrongs caught up and righted themselves. Everyone loved the saying - karma’s a bitch - mine would be something like hell.

  “It never leaves you.”

  Startling at Ayden’s voice, I turned to see him standing in just a pair of sweats, leaning against the frame and watching me intently. Still unable to look him in the eye, I rushed to pick up my keys and phone, making a move from where I was sat.

  “Stay,” he encouraged. “Talk to me.”

  “I can’t,” I choked out. He already thought I was trash, no point adding more fuel to his fire. There was no one’s ear I could whisper into, no one to unburden my crime upon and his presence threw that into stark relief. This was one I had to deal with myself.