CHAPTER NINE
PARKER
––––––––
I walk into my penthouse and collapse on the sofa, trying to forget the disappointed look on Aurora’s face when I kissed her cheek and watched her walk inside her building.
She has no idea how much she affects me.
I watched her wriggle in her seat, knowing she was wet and aroused. Goddamn, I wanted to reach over and slide my fingers inside her pussy. I could have got her off while driving, enjoying her pleads for release between traffic lights.
Then purred as she cried out her orgasm.
Instead, like a choirboy, I chastely kissed her and said goodbye.
“Sleep well,” I said.
“Thanks for dinner,” Aurora said, giving me a little wave.
She was frustrated, aroused, and annoyed.
Primed for a wild fuck.
She’ll be questioning every single thing she did tonight and wondering why I rejected her. As people do with low self-worth.
I shouldn’t give a fuck.
It’s payback for all the years I spent curled up in a ball wondering why the green-eyed little girl spent her nights playing or sleeping upstairs while I was bent over and fucked by grown-up cocks.
That’s why, Aurora.
Why were you so fucking precious? Where were the adults protecting me?
Nowhere. That’s where.
Familiar fury flares inside me and I push down the need to smash something. It’s a tool I’ve learned over the years. Sometimes it works, other times not so much.
Hence wishing we could revise our childhood fight club.
Maybe seeing Aurora again is triggering me. In more ways than one. She’s a goddamn mess. There’s nothing special about her.
I hope you aren’t going to propose.
Her fucking words stopped me in my tracks. One minute I was going along with this whole fake date, then she leans against the banister like some all-American girl falling in love.
I played along, enjoying her sexy ass poking out like she was hoping I’d lift it and shove my cock inside her cunt. And she’d love it.
Why do I have a feeling she would?
Then the world stopped when she jokingly said she loved another. Like someone had slapped me across the face, I felt my body move. We were face-to-face before I knew what I was doing.
I could have hurt her.
My hand was so close to going around her throat.
I don’t like the way I react to her. It’s out of control, when I must stay in control around her.
She makes me way too unstable.
For a moment, I had the urge to smash my mouth down on hers and tell her she was coming home with me, where I’d fuck her senseless. And tell any other man if they even fucking looked at her, I’ll rip their goddamn heads from their shoulders.
Not even in that damn order.
“Jesus,” I curse into the empty room, then sit and stare out the windows into the night.
I need to maintain full control next time.
––––––––
O N MONDAY, I have my personal assistant send the fork off on an urgent courier to the lab. An associate on the West Coast has connections with a testing company who promises they can turn it around fast. Well, I threatened to buy his company and destroy it if he didn’t.
Jeremy laughed.
I wasn’t joking.
“Make sure you track the parcel and get them to sign for it. Drive it there yourself if you can.”
She frowns at the address. “It’s in California.”
So?
“You’re a problem solver, remember Louise!” I shout over my shoulder. I know she’s giving me the bird.
“Can I take the jet?” I hear her call out as I walk back into my office.
I don’t bother replying. Louise is a damn good PA. Organized, professional, but has a smart mouth. Which is probably why she puts up with my demands and doesn’t go home crying each day.
As I spin in my chair and tug my laptop back in front of me, I wonder what Aurora is doing. How does she spend her days at her job? Are there men in her office wishing they could shove their cocks inside her?
Better fucking not.
I lean back in my dark gray executive chair and gaze out at the Manhattan skyline. I have a message from my mother waiting for a response and have been ignoring it all week.
My grandmother’s words come back to me.
This can make you a good man or a bad man, Parker. You get to decide.
I didn’t get to decide, Grandma. I had no choice.
You’ll understand one day. I’m sorry I didn’t find out what your father was doing sooner.
Grandma isn’t a hugger, but she patted my knee, giving me a pitiful smile before leaving me in my room. It was one of the last nights I spent in my childhood bedroom.
Years later, my mother gave birth to my little brother, Michael. I barely know him. I don’t want to know him. The few times I’ve seen him, he’s watched me with big eyes, wanting to be like me.
What a joke.
There are two scenarios. One, Dad had the chance to abuse him before he died, and I have to live with that. Or he didn’t, and I have to pretend the guy was a saint and his death a great loss to both of us.
Fuck that.
If he was protected by my mother while I wasn’t, I’m not going to pretend I don’t hate them both for it.
Just as I do Aurora.
Then again, if Michael was interfered with, I’ll be even more angry at my parents for harming another innocent fucking child.
I just can’t be the big brother he wants.
I’m dealing with my own mortality.
I know what her message is inquiring about. It’s Michael’s birthday in a few weeks—his sweet sixteenth—and she wants me to attend.
My dear mother, who lives with her head in the sand and won’t acknowledge what happened to me. Not even to say sorry. She acts as if she isn’t responsible for the disgusting acts that were done to me.
Her love for Michael is likely a result of losing me and her husband, but it triggers me.
He’s following you on social media, Parker. He adores you.
Yeah, he likes every fucking post. But how can he adore me if he doesn’t know me? Tell him to get a life.
Every post . Every Instagram post. Every tweet. Every Facebook. Basically, every platform I’m on Michael-Stone-R likes every goddamn thing I post.
If you spent time with him, he’d know you. Without your father, he needs a male role model in his life.
That man was not a role model. As a result, neither am I. Get him a babysitter.
That was three months ago when she told me to pencil his birthday into my calendar.
I said no.
Between her and my grandmother, who keep hounding me to connect with Michael, I am considering blocking their fucking numbers. But I owe my grandmother my life. And in some sick way, I enjoy listening to my mother plead.
I used to think it was her unconditional love for her two sons that kept her trying to connect us. Then I realized she hadn’t told Michael what happened to me and it’s easier to face my harsh replies than the truth.
Well, fuck her.
My mind follows the yellow brick road back to Mary-Anne, Aurora’s mother. I wonder if the two women knew each other.
“Shit.” I sit up straight and tap the keyboard.
What day is the funeral?
I’ve been biding my time to ask Aurora on another date—she’ll say yes—and the funeral might be the perfect time to find her vulnerable and open to talking about her mother.
I’m not a saint.
I’ve told you that.
I find the notice and check the date. Tomorrow. Taking a mental note of the venue, I wonder if I’ll recognize any of the attendees. I must go.
It would be a missed opportunity not to.