Chapter 33
I can get usedto this.
But I can’t.
The last two days with Ember won’t erase the damage we’ve done. No matter how hard I fuck her, no matter how hard I keep her close. A man has to face his future.
Walking back into the new studio, her new studio, I’m prepared to tell her my plan. Prepared to make things right.
Soul music comes from the residency space, Ember singing along with the song. A new sound I’ve never heard before.
My grip on the coffee cups tighten as I think about what I’m about to do. But it’s for her. It’s for us.
She doesn’t notice me when I step in, her hair piled on her head, her eyes on the canvas in front of her. Whatever she’s working on looks like it’s coming together. She’s found her inspiration and I’m way too much of a pompous prick to deny I’ve had something to do with it.
I set my butterfly free.
Pencils spill at the feet of the stool she sits on, one tucked into her hair. Leaning against the entryway, my eyes move to the canvas in front of her, light streaming into the room. Red and orange fill the canvas along with a lot of black. It looks like a mix of items in a blaze.
“Back to work already?”
She looks over her shoulder with a wide smile. “You wear sweats?” She’s in some too, looking fresher with some new clothes and access to the large residency shower. A baggy tee and black joggers matches her calm demeanour.
I shrug, moving towards her. This time with Ember eases my brain, so does time away from my father and it shows in my joggers and hoodie. “Easier for you to get off.” There’s peace with us. Peace within me. It’s something I’ve never felt before.
But it can’t last.
She laughs as I hand her a coffee, a melody that stirs me. I can’t get too attached to this glimpse in our future. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Using your words?” she teases. “Just a sec, let me finish this one thing.” She puts the pencil back to the canvas. “I keep having flashes of Red’s or Picasso’s in my head. It’s always better to get it out on paper. I don’t remember much. I don’t even remember the faces of the men from the red room.” My neck tightens, thinking of any other fucker’s hands on her. “But each of them had an item I focused on. Shoes, or a belt. A wallet or a lighter.” On her last word my eyes shift to the thing she’s scribbling in. A lighter.
But it’s not until she includes the ‘S’ on the front that my hand squishes the coffee cup in my hand. Hot liquid pours out over my skin but the heat isn’t enough to distract me. “Ember, you saw that lighter?”
She looks back at me, her smile fading. “Yeah, it looks familiar, right?”
Too fucking familiar. “You sure you saw that?”
Her eyes move back to her work, right before the pencil drops from her hand. That same hand comes to her mouth. “Mac, I—” Her shoulders drop. “I’m not sure, everything was such a blur. Maybe I imagined it.”
Too late.
“I’ll be back.” Moving over I pull her head to me, planting a kiss on that fiery bundle of curls. “Pack your things.”
Harry Halston may have foundimmunity in Paradise Hill.
But he’ll never be the same again.
There was no way I was cracking the code to Red’s security footage on my own. Any criminal knows to have their shit locked tight. But Harry? Harry’s been more helpful to me than my own friends.
Walking up to the mansion door, a crow circles one of the spires, a leather folder tucked under my arm. My father always said I don’t know how to handle business. Now, I’ll show him.
“Father!” I call, my sneakers squeaking against the marble floor in the foyer. For the first time, these walls don’t threaten to suffocate me. For the first time, this place doesn’t feel like a cell. When he doesn’t answer, I follow the smell of strong tobacco to his office, kicking the door open. “There he is, Sterling McKinsley.”
His eyes narrow, phone in his hand, feet on his desk. “I’ll call you back.” Pulling his feet off the table, he straightens up in his seat. “You dare come at me in that manner, son? Have you finally lost it?”
“Maybe.” I’ve never felt so free in his office, in his domain. “I have a business proposal.”
“I don’t have time for your silly little ideas, Malcolm,” Father chuckles. “They never work. I was on an important call. But it seems you need to be put in your place.”
Now I’m the one to chuckle. “Oh, you’ll have time for this.” Placing the leather folder on the table, I flip it open with a finger. Plucking the images out of their slots, I glare into his eyes before sliding them towards him. “Or is this not you involved in sex trafficking?”
It’s taking everything in me not to climb across this desk and give him what he deserves, but I remember his words all too clear.
I expect you to dominate with your mind. Your hands will get you in trouble.
He glances at me, the red in his face draining, then he leans back in his chair with a satisfied huff. “I thought she looked familiar.”
Is that all he has to say? “Turns out, you’re the sick fuck.”
“I paid for that,” he says. “Like a real man.”
“No, you haven’t paid for that. But you will.” The images of his body on Ember fill my mind again, my hands turning to balls.
“So?” he asks. “What do you want? Your silly little hockey career back?”
“I want you gone.”
My father tips his head back in his chair, letting laughter erupt around the room as my nails sink into my skin. “And where am I supposed to go?”
“I really don’t care. But if you don’t leave and find a way to fall off the face of this earth? I’ll ruin you.”
His laughter stops. “You’re talking a big game, Malcolm.”
“I’m actually being really nice. There’s not much stopping me from sending this to the board, or to the press. Nothing is stopping me from releasing this to the world. You, an old washed-up man, with a young, vulnerable girl.”
“She’s legal.”
“Sure, she is.” Reaching into the folder I flick out a few more photos. “But turns out, you’re a regular. And these girls? Some of these girls are looking to make whoever hurt them pay.”
“Don’t be stupid, Malcolm.”
“I don’t have to be when you are.”
“And what about your little secret? The one I’ve been hiding for months? What do you think will happen to you?”
“You don’t have to worry about me anymore. The only thing I want, is you out. You will release your finances to me. You will release your business to me. Your assets. This house and the others. Your helicopter. All of this is mine.” Silence takes over us, his glare on mine as I come face to face with the monster I never want to be. “If following in your path turns me into you, I don’t want it.”
“I should have never taken you as my son.”
“That’s accurate.” Reaching into the folder I pull out the last thing. “Your flight to Svalbard leaves in an hour. I never want to see you again.”