Chapter Six. #2

The first three buttons on his shirt were undone, and it was also creased. His trousers were no better. He had a five-day stubble, and his hair was a mess. Mitch looked nothing like Mitch McQuoid, the owner of Elysian Memories and Velvet Memories.

“Fuck,” Mitch muttered, running his hands through his hair.

Angrily growling, Mitch left his study and headed for his bedroom.

Once inside, he shucked his clothes and stalked naked into the adjoining bathroom.

Turning the shower on, Mitch stood beneath it and let it soak into his bones.

He leaned his forehead against the tiled wall and made himself face his emotions head-on.

Until Mitch dealt with them, he’d be unable to figure out what was happening.

It was never easy being open and honest with oneself, something Mitch had learned early on. His family had been very good at deceiving themselves.

Mitch forced himself to dig deep, and hurt was the first thing he felt when he thought of Jess.

That had been because he’d genuinely believed they’d been building a relationship.

However, that was mixed with uncertainty.

Because he had doubted Jess. Now Mitch had to figure out why he was suffering.

Was it because Jess had left him or because she’d run away?

Mitch recognised it was the second reason.

His doubt had given them a timeframe, even though he’d not realised it.

Subconsciously, Mitch had prescribed them an end date.

He didn’t need to ask why; there had been warning signs, and Mitch had listened to them.

Jess insisted she was poor, but owned two houses.

Jess could work from home. Then there was the fact that Jess not only recognised the Bugatti but also knew it was a one-off, along with its price tag.

There were other small things. The reality was that Jess was comfortable eating in an expensive restaurant and didn’t question why her menu had no prices.

Jess waited for him to open her car door, but then dressed in jeans and an old, ripped tee.

Jess was used to being around money. She’d been a contradiction, and one he’d longed to unwrap and figure out.

That addressed the hurt and the sense of doubt, but it didn’t resolve them.

Mitch had doubted her because he’d wanted Jess to be real.

But he’d found fault with her because he didn’t feel he deserved real.

Damn. There it was. Self-sabotage. Because of his family’s misdeeds, Mitch judged himself alongside them.

His father and grandfather were monsters, evil incarnate.

Mitch had done everything possible to escape them.

He’d rebuilt himself from Mitchum Weideman, pampered son of murderers, into Mitch McQuoid, billionaire.

But the Weideman legacy stained his hands red with blood, even if he’d never taken a life.

Mitch knew what his family was doing and stayed quiet.

He needed to find a way to end the Sealgair Uilebheist without outing the Uile-bheist. He had evidence that his father and grandfather had tortured and killed humans in their quest for Uile-bheist.

Mitch washed his hair vigorously and turned his thoughts to where the victims were buried.

Alfred and Alexander were high in the Sealgair Uilebheist. They were used to being revered and untouchable.

They wouldn’t have been diligent about ensuring the bodies were cleansed of DNA.

Could Mitch somehow leak a few graves to Scotland Yard and have them arrested?

The police would get a search warrant, and all they’d need was a tip-off that Alfred kept a murder diary.

Mitch was damn certain that Alexander did too, but he’d never discovered it. That was the Sealgair Uilebheist way.

Rinsing his hair, Mitch tried to figure out a solution to that.

He had to be careful because nobody knew the diary’s location, apart from the three of them.

Alfred and Alexander wouldn’t expect betrayal from him.

They believed Mitch was whipped. If Mitch got them arrested and sent down, would his hands be clean of blood, or would they still be stained?

Mitch understood his soul would never be clean.

He’d kept secrets when he shouldn’t have.

It was a miracle Mitch had broken free from their indoctrination.

He might not have if they hadn’t killed his mother.

That was why he was so angry. Because Alexander had strangled Mari McQuoid with his bare hands, and Alfred had helped get rid of her body.

Mitch had been three when Mari disappeared, and he’d no memory of her.

He’d read what they’d done in the diary.

And the reason? Oh, it was a good one. Mari had claimed to have once seen Bigfoot as a child.

A kid! And because Mari couldn’t tell them exactly where she’d seen it, Mari had been tortured and killed.

Alexander had accused her of covering for a Uile-bheist and had carried out the sentence with sickening efficiency.

Mitch had just turned eighteen when he discovered the truth, and he’d walked away from Alfred and Alexander in horror and disgust. The threats they uttered that day had contained him, they thought.

They were wrong. Mitch had secretly worked against them, warning those they had eyes on.

The Uile-bheist had supporters called the Saviours, or Saviour Families. Mitch had taken the list of names and warned those he could. That lone act wouldn’t clean the blood from his bloodline, but he hoped he’d saved at least a couple of people.

How could Mitch possibly be worthy of Jess with that on his conscience?

That was the root of Mitch’s anger; he wanted to offer Jess the world, but didn’t deserve her.

Jess, if she really was what she portrayed herself to be, deserved everything.

Mitch turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around himself. He had some people to apologise to.

Jess/Loch Ness Monster.

“Are you okay?” Leon asked, entering her apartment without knocking.

“Make yourself at home,” Jess replied sarcastically.

“Will do. You made rather a stir at the fundraiser.”

“People shouldn’t be so damn nosy. Anyway, I’ve withdrawn for the foreseeable future. I won’t risk destroying the world. I’ve nearly ended it four times. Not again.”

“Jess. You carry the Sin, but you’re not responsible for the Sin. The Sins are human creations, yet we were cursed with them. Humankind made Disease with their ways and actions. You are the person who stops it from running wildly through the population.”

“Apart from the four plagues I let loose,” Jess said and paced to her balcony.

“I’m weak, Leon. I want love and what the mates have, but I don’t deserve it.

Millions have died because of my lack of control, because I longed for something I’m not entitled to.

How do I reveal to a lover what I’ve done?

And don’t say, Leon, that I wouldn’t have to tell him.

Of course, they would. Lovers shouldn’t keep secrets from each other. ”

“Have you considered he might have his own skeletons in the closet?” The Phantom of the Opera inquired. He entered her apartment and shifted into Hans. Hans fussed at his cuffs before walking to a chair and sitting down.

“What do you mean?” Jess asked, cocking her head.

“The man who is your mate. Do you expect him to be pure and innocent? No human is.”

“No, but Mitch won’t have blood on his hands like me,” Jess argued.

“Says who? He could be a pilot who crashed and survived. Perhaps a scientist who made a mistake with a drug,” Leon suggested.

“Mitch is none of those. He’s a jeweller who runs a company,” Jess argued.

“A highly profitable and world-class business. Mitch McQuoid has stores in every city, and his discount line is hitting towns across the globe. Are you telling me Mitch McQuoid is innocent because, Jess, I’d call you a liar!” Hans stated.

“Yeah, I can tell you now, Mitch didn’t get to where he is by being kind and benevolent. He has a fair reputation as an employer, but I know he’s ruthless in business,” Leon said.

“But Mitch doesn’t have the blood of innocents on his hands,” Jess insisted as she walked back into the living room.

“Maybe not, but I assure you he’s guilty of stuff,” Hans stated. “Since when has the trade of diamonds been clean of blood, of slavery?”

“Fine, maybe so, but Mitch’s isn’t directly responsible like I am. Mitch is better off if I stay well away,” Jess countered, and ignored the pang in her chest. She was right, no matter what her dumb hormones and heart demanded.

Mitch

“You’re being watched.”

“Good morning to you, bro,” Mitch retorted.

“Yeah, whatever. There’s a black SUV outside, with two men inside it. They’ve been there since dawn,” Diar said.

“Are you sure it’s me and not you?” It was a valid question. Diar was as rich as him and a valuable hostage.

“Why would Sealgair Uilebheist worry about me? I’m useless, but you, heir to the Weideman throne, you’re anything but.”

“You’re certain they’re Sealgair Uilebheist?” Mitch asked. Why would they be bothering with him? Alfred and Alexander knew how he felt. Why send minions to watch him?

“Definitely. They have that musclebound blank look to their expression. You know, me big brute, no brain,” Diar teased, and Mitch swallowed a laugh.

“Ignore them, I’ve no intention of going back into the fold.

Alfred and Alexander can’t force me, and if they try, then leaks happen,” Mitch replied.

His mind was working overtime. Why now, and what were they after?

Alfred and Alexander knew he wouldn’t return to that life.

They were up to something. The question was: what?

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.