Craving Truths (The Razer Series Book 3) Page 6

  “I’ve been in your shoes, Chrissie.”

  I laughed at his words. What the fuck did he know? Perfect Ayden had never so much as stepped out of line, Daddy’s golden boy in a perfect little world.

  “You’ve no idea,” I hissed, pushing up from the table, my blood beginning to boil at his candour. I needed away from him before I said a million things I’d regret.

  Grabbing at my arm, Ayden yanked me into his bare chest and wrapped his forearm around my waist, effectively locking me in place. Struggling, I fought half heartedly to push away from him.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Stop fighting me.”

  “Get the hell off me!” My voice rose in a shout.

  “Chrissie...” His hand tugged at the bottom of my hair pulling my head backwards, so I was left with no choice but to look at him. “I’ve been in your shoes,” he said again, his eyes harder than before, never wavering from my face, imploring me to believe him. This time, I did. Like a stone dropping to the bottom of a well with a delayed splash, it came.

  “Shorty?”

  “Shorty,” he confirmed.

  “I thought...” I trailed off, not entirely sure what I thought, but Ayden hadn’t been the one I’d envisioned sorting out the man who’d killed his best friend and raped his boyfriend’s sister. It didn’t matter, he was telling me the truth, I could see it in the half-haunted look he had about him. He knew what it was like to take a life and have it plague him.

  “He didn’t. He has no idea and it stays that way. He’s never asked, nobody talks about it.”

  For whatever reason, the floodgates opened, and I fell forward into him, those arms of his that I fought suddenly all around me. Comforting, I felt the understanding he was giving, yet finding it strange I could discover such solace in a man who had every reason to hate me.

  “I can’t sleep,” I whispered.

  He whispered back, “Let me help you.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m probably the only one who can.” Pulling me through to the bedroom he shared with Shaun, he nudged me toward the bed. “Get in.”

  Without argument, I climbed into his bed fully clothed, pulling covers around me as I did. When the bed shifted beside me and I felt Ayden’s body press against mine, I gave a little squeak.

  “What are you doing?” I asked him for a second time.

  “Go to sleep, Chrissie. I don’t even fucking like girls. My dick only gets hard for Shaun, you’re perfectly safe in here.”

  I laughed, a care free sound that caught me short. “Shaun won’t like it.”

  “Fuck Shaun.” Then he chuckled. “No, don’t. That’s my job.”

  “You love him?” My question was serious, the humour of the situation gone.

  “More than life itself.” Quiet blanketed the room for several minutes, Ayden’s next question puzzling me. “You love him, too?”

  “Not as much as you,” I answered honestly. Ayden was smart, knew how I felt about Shaun without needing me to spell it out for him. He was sounding me out, seeing how honest I would be with him.

  “You both share a long history together. It was either love or hate, I couldn’t quite figure out which until recently.”

  “I am sorry, Ayden.”

  “Yeah. One apology is suffice. I don’t need another.”

  “Sometimes it feels like there’s never enough.”

  “If you meant it when you said it the first time then no point repeating it. Waste of breath, don’t you think? I heard you.”

  “What do I do?”

  He sighed and rolled me around to face him. I could see why Shaun had fallen for this young man who was wise beyond his years. He was beautiful, inside and out, if what others said of him was anything to go by. It hadn’t escaped my attention either his body was one that would make any person’s mouth go dry. Yes, Shaun had hit the jackpot with a man like Ayden.

  “Can’t answer that, Chrissie There’s no rules here.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Accepted it,” he said simply. “Dealt with it and got the fuck on with my life. You can’t let it destroy you, and it will if you don’t shoulder it.”

  “Did Ryder help you?”

  “Yeah, Dad too. Your brother’s a good man, it’s a shame that was kept from you. He’s like my second father, you know.”

  I had so much to learn about these people, about where I belonged. Sadness crept back over me, a discomforting blanket weighing heavy like it had for days. “You think we could be friends one day?”

  “As long as you don’t bring your brand of crazy into my family,” he grinned at me. “We love hard, but we aren’t pushovers. In time, why not?”

  We were quiet another while, his words sinking in, words that were a warning with a hint of acceptance. I liked that about him, his forgiveness was a mark of his character.

  “And don’t try to steal my man. I will cut a bitch down.”

  Giggling, I thumped at his chest like girls do. “He was never mine.”

  “Oh, I think at one point he was, you just never saw it.”

  “Shaun was always waiting for you.”

  He tugged on my hair playfully. “You think you could manage a little shut eye in here?”

  I did, finally. Wrapped up in the most unlikely of places with the most unlikely of people. “Thank you.”

  “Not everyone wants a piece of you, Chrissie. You’ll learn in time, you’ll see.”

  * * * * *

  I slept peacefully, and when I awoke, searching the side of me for Ayden, I smiled at the face peering over his shoulder. Shaun’s return was big and full of warmth.

  “Should I be worried?”

  “His dick only gets hard for you apparently.”

  “Good to know,” he chuckled. “Now scoot, so I can test that theory.”

  I didn’t waste time hanging around, quickly climbing out of bed and hurrying into the hall. Their bedroom was not a place I belonged, even if it had been the safest I’d felt in a long time.

  Moving into the new house was uneventful and remarkably easy. It was just me, exactly how I needed it to be. Ryder had boxed up my flat and those boxes now sat stacked in the small dining room at the back of the house. It was mostly clothes and shoes - a myriad of designer labels that stank of guilt and neglect. I was in no hurry to unpack as long as I could lay my hand on things I needed. The temptation to sling it all to a charity shop rounded my head a time or two, maybe I would.

  What I needed a few hours after I was settled in, was food. All I had were the bare essentials and I wasn’t in the mood for toast and butter. There was a decent sized supermarket not far from the house, heading that way seemed like a smart idea. I had work later but I wanted food now.

  Grabbing a trolley, once I stepped through those sliding doors, I anticipated I’d fill the thing, I was that hungry. Ambling through the aisles, I dropped in healthier food than I would have normally, no pizzas or crisps, and made a mental note to join the local gym I’d seen on my walk to the supermarket. I wanted a change, wanted to look after myself - be better.

  I stopped short in the fourth or fifth aisle when I came face to face with Warren, who was staring at me from half way down the other side. His hand was clasping hold of a little boys, his eyes looking just like his father’s. I hadn’t known he had a son until that fateful day, was startled at the confrontation of him right before my very eyes, reminding me I didn’t really know an awful lot about the man I’d been sleeping with for months on end. For him not to have mentioned something so significant, solidified the nature of our relationship - nothing. I also wondered what else I didn’t know about Warren, what other secrets did he have that I should have been aware of? There was nothing more intimate than letting someone inside your bed, inside your body, yet there I was looking at a stranger.

  Said stranger approached quickly, that easy smile of his drawing me in like always, his little boy just as eager to approach at first. I wasn’t good with kids, ha
ving never been around them.

  “Hey,” Warren said, his smile stretching across his face. A face I’d always had a liking for, even long ago when I’d first seen him in Monty’s. I’d been involved with Shaun, but you never forget a handsome face, couldn’t ignore Warren’s good looks.

  Trying to keep it casual, I greeted him back while I crouched down to the little boy’s height, then held out my hand. “I’m Chrissie. Who do we have here, hmmm?”

  He giggled. An innocent sound that felt good to my ears as he leaned into Warren’s leg, an act of shyness contradicting his earlier eagerness to reach me. Right there, I was glad for the ton of make up I’d plastered on my face to cover the healing bruising around my eyes.

  “Say hello,” Warren encouraged gently. The boy stuck his hand out and took mine, his small fingers gripping tighter than I expected, then he shook vigorously and with enthusiasm. But that didn’t seem enough for the small boy, he took his hand from mine then wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed me in a tight cuddle that felt warm and right and oh my God... My heart melted right there.

  “Hi,” he said letting go and taking a step back.

  “You have a name?”

  He looked up at his dad then back to me. “Kieran.”

  “Well,” I drawled with a smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Kieran. You have a strong hand, shake like a man.”

  “Daddy showed me,” he grinned, proud of himself.

  “Did he now?”

  He nodded, then hid a little further behind his dad’s leg again. Bless him, he was shy, but absolutely adorable.

  Cold sweat erupted over me without warning and suddenly standing in a supermarket aisle became the last place I wanted to be. As I looked at Kieran, images of the dream that haunted me nightly, swirled with ferocity at the back of my subconscious, threatening to drag me into the yawning abyss it always did when the lights went out. I looked at Kieran again, my pulse thudding hard in my neck, gasping, I stood abruptly. I needed away from them both. Now.

  With wide eyes and hands held out in front of me, I backed away from Warren, refusing to meet his gaze, hoping I wasn’t scaring his son. I refused to show my underbelly for fear it would cut me wide open and I’d drag him down with me. He could never know the pictures that haunted the lonely morning hours. He could never be a part of my life.

  I looked sadly at the sweet boy wrapped around my lover’s leg. No, never the twain should meet. Warren had a child; a child whose dead eyes were the first things I saw when I opened my own after an epic battle with Charlie.

  “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  Turning with eager swiftness, I scurried away, ignoring the confused tone to Warren’s voice as he called after me. Shopping left in the middle of the aisle, I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, the hasty retreat not quick enough or far enough. In the five minutes it took to get home I’d convinced myself I was doing the right thing, my actions saying what my mouth couldn’t.

  I was no good for a man like Warren. I was no good for a small boy.

  I was no good for anyone.

  * * * * *

  I could hardly think straight when I arrived at work. Sammi had called in sick, which meant I had the privilege of the pole tonight, being one girl short. I’d have to cover. My girls never did anything I wasn’t happy to do myself. No matter how fucked up my head was, I had to get up on that bloody pole and give the punters what they came to Monty’s for. It wasn’t like I did it often, my girls were great - loyal, rarely sick. They appreciated the work ethic in the club and most had been with me for a few years. I’d cleaned out the place when Charlie handed me those papers, got rid of the shit, but the girls left were diamonds and didn’t usually let me down. When one couldn’t come in, I knew it was for a genuine reason and was more than happy to fill in.

  There was little choice even if I wasn’t feeling it. And I really wasn’t, still shaken up from the supermarket debacle. Saving grace was the quietness of the club on a week night. There’d be no bother.

  I worked bar for a few hours, Claire alongside me, she’d been with me for years too, now my bar manager. She didn’t get up on the pole but was fantastic at what she did do, going home with her fair share of tips after a night. How she’d become friendly with my caustic self was still a mystery. Yet here we were, thicker than thieves.

  “How long’s he been in?” I pointed discreetly to the dark corner where Tony was sitting, his usual drink on the table in front of him.

  “Maybe an hour,” Claire shrugged. “He’s only had the one, been nursing it.”

  “Huh.” That was not his routine, typically he was three sheets to the wind after an hour of arriving.

  “Someone did a right number on him, I reckon.”

  We didn’t know what Tony’s story was, just that he came in here most nights, sat in the same corner and got drunk. I vaguely remembered the name Stella being uttered by the Ryder and wondered if she had hooked her claws in Tony. I didn’t have the full details of what Ayden’s mother had done to them but there was enough talk to know she had been a nutcase. The one and only meeting I’d had with her was well pushed to the back of my mind. Not a pleasant woman.

  “Well, he doesn’t cause trouble, so we’ll leave him be.” It was none of our business unless he made a nuisance of himself, and he never did.

  “You best be off to get ready,” she reminded me.

  Scanning the club, I was pleased to see it was busy enough with regulars. Yes, Monty’s was a titty bar, but many of the men that came in just wanted to wind down after their day and do it watching scantily clothed, pretty girls swing about on a pole. Trouble rarely came into my bar anymore.

  In the girl’s room, chatter was animated, the two women not currently on stage, talking about nothing of interest to me. All my girls got along, I didn’t like it any other way even if I did have a frigid demeanour at times. I always made the extra effort with my employees, made sure I was approachable.

  I stripped, not ashamed doing so in front of anyone, then climbed into a rhinestone encrusted bikini that left little to the imagination. Leaving my long hair down because I loved the way it swished around when I teased the pole, I went in search of the ridiculous heels I intended on wearing.

  “Gonna turn those heads tonight, Chrissie!” Allison chirped from the furthest end of the room. Her shift was finished, she didn’t do much later than eleven, having a teenager at home. She was thirty-six years old and had somehow kept herself in shape, becoming a favourite among the punters. I could attribute a lot of sales and tips because of her.

  “Not looking to turn anything except the pole, Alli,” I laughed at her.

  “Your man not in tonight?”

  I paused with the eyeliner mid-way to my face and glanced at her through the mirror. “Wasn’t aware I had one.”

  “Oh, come on. That cute hottie that comes in late most nights. Waits for you. You’ve been tapping his arse a while now. Not official?”

  “Not anything.” I continued to make up my face, trying to push Warren to the back of my mind. Not anything I reminded myself. You piece together the broken and that’s what I was. Why would he entertain me?

  “He fair game then?” Allison wasn’t serious, just trying to get me to commit to some gossip we’d all laugh at another time.

  “Have at it.” The words were sour and visions of scraping out the lovely Allison’s eyes if she made a beeline for Warren were very real. She wouldn’t, but still, the very idea of him with another woman made me sick to my stomach.

  Take note.

  “Yeah, right. Anyway, I’m off. See you tomorrow. Hopefully Sammi’s back and we can double. Punters always love that.”

  “Every man’s fantasy, right?”

  “And then some,” she giggled and waved a hand in the air.

  “Make sure a bouncer sees you out.”

  “Gotcha.” She stopped at the door to the room. “As much as we appreciate the cover, it’s not the Boss’s job, Chrissie. I know y
ou don’t mind, but maybe it’s time you did.”

  How could I be annoyed with her? She was only echoing my own thoughts. There wasn’t much integrity about me, but the one place I’d carved out a little slice of respect was at work. My girls knew I had their back, I’d step into their shoes all day long, but Alli was right; it was time the pole took a back seat. I needed to hire someone else.

  Grabbing the ridiculous shoes, five inches of gold none of us enjoyed wearing, I sighed. I loved heels, but dancing in these neck breakers had never been an aspiration of mine. Head held high, I suddenly had a case of nerves as I walked the dark corridor to the back stage. I’d done this a hundred times or more, yet something was different tonight. Something hummed in the air. Getting up on that pole and getting my tits out for Lord only knew who felt too... Personal. Whether it was Warren or my brother or another thing entirely, it knocked me, unsettled me. The unwelcome feeling was ever-present and intensifying with each careful step I took toward the stage.

  One dance. That was it. I had to be the boss, set myself apart. There was no excitement to get up on that pole any more than there was to go to Beaufort and play family fortunes.

  Last time.

  Standing at the curtain, awaiting my cue, I vowed it was the very last time.

  Usher’s ‘Yeah’ thumped me from my thoughts and Lynne, a simple stripper, slipped through the thick brocade curtain, holding it open.

  “You’re up, Boss.” Her breaths were laboured, her smile big as she clutched a wad of cash and her bra top in her hand.

  Taking a deep breath, I plastered on a smile and strutted out onto the velvet covered walkway, which had cost me a pretty penny to replace when I’d ripped out the old wooden catwalks. The silver of the pole glinted in the lights at the end, a beacon, something to aim my feet at. I kept those lights on the stage for that very reason. The girls didn’t see much beyond the glare and felt more comfortable, helped them get lost in their dances without having the lustful and leering looks throwing them off kilter. I preferred it too.

  Shiny lights did nothing for the noise though; catcalls and whistles rang out as I swayed my hips in an exaggerated fashion. My hair swung with abandon as I strutted on the damned heels and out into the body of the club I’d clawed from the filth Charlie saw fit to let it squander in.