Chapter Eight
Roman
So, you’re going back to him?
He’s Oscar’s father, Roman.
What about us?
There hasn’t been an us for a long time.
- Conversation between Roman, age 26 and Kelsey, age 23
By the time I get home I’ve got five voicemails from Mase and one each from Shaun and Pippa. I slip my phone back into my pocket, still too angry at how they treated Lola to deal with them yet.
I press the panel by the door, turning on the large, bronze, hanging light in the center of the stables. Technically, since Jarred helped me convert it, the place isn’t exactly stables anymore but we all still call it that.
The design is open plan with the exposed beams in the ceiling giving it that rustic country feel I love.
I filled the whole place with plants on every surface and ivy plants climbing the corners.
It’s so different to the polished marble and glass walls I grew up with and usually nothing feels better than coming home.
Tonight though, I’d rather just be with Lola.
It went against all my instincts to leave her there, but staying was too dangerous.
My phone buzzes again as I untie my boots and place them on the shoe rack.
I’m expecting it to be Mase but it’s my father’s name that flashes up on screen.
I clench my keys in my hand. I’m tempted to ignore it but while he never has the time for me, he gets pissed if I don’t make time for him, so I hang the keys on the hook by the door and answer.
“Dad.”
“Have you decided?”
So much for the pleasantries. I walk over to the open plan kitchen and lean back against the island. “I emailed Lucy.”
“Who?” My father’s voice is distant, like always. He’s no doubt doing two other things while talking to me.
“Lucy. Your PA.”
The tapping of a keyboard echoes down the line. “What? Oh, no. I let her go.”
Translation: he slept with her.
“It’s Suzie now, or Sarah.”
Disgust steeps the back of my throat. I put my phone on speaker and place it on the island so I can grab a drink. He won’t ever learn her name and she’ll be ‘let go’ within the next six months.
I was thirteen when I first found out about my father’s infidelity. I used his credit card to book a flight back to England so I could tell my mother in person, but she wasn’t expecting me. That was clear enough when her lover answered the door. No wonder neither of them had time for me.
I feel like all I’ve ever wanted since that day is a proper family. One that eats dinner together every night and goes on holidays.
I thought I had it once, but then she went back to her ex. I realized after, when I wasn’t nearly as upset as I should have been, that she was right. We never would have worked.
On the other end of the line, the clack of typing stops. “So, have you looked over the latest offer I sent you?”
I take a gulp of water, letting the ice-cold temperature cool my frustration. “I’m not taking a job with you.”
“I upped the salary. I’m being extremely generous, Roman.”
I put the glass down on the wooden surface of the island and turn around so I can see out the window above the kitchen counters. I ground myself in the rows of trees and the setting sun. Oranges melting into pink, the kind of colors you never find in the city. “It’s not about the money.”
Dear Old Dad scoffs. “Everything is about money.”
“I won’t work for an oil company. I won’t be shut up inside an office making dodgy deals with corrupt governments.”
His sigh rattles down the line. “That’s your legacy you’re insulting, Roman. It’s time you stop playing farmer and come do the work you were born for.”
I pick up the phone. We can’t go a single conversation without him reminding me that I was only born to be his heir and I don’t have it in me to go another two rounds with him right now. “I’ve got to go, Dad.”
I’m about to end the call when he says, “I hear Lola’s back in town.”
My finger hovers over the red button. “How did you hear that?”
“You’re better than her. Don’t go turning down my offer for some childish infatuation.”
I don’t know how my father knows Lola’s back home, but I shouldn’t be surprised. He makes it his business to find out information and use it to his advantage.
“Lola’s just a friend. She has nothing to do with this,” I say, because the thought of my father paying even the slightest bit of attention to Lola makes me sick. “And my answer is still no.” I end the call.
My father can offer me as much money as he wants, I won’t work for him. I’m not playing farmer. I’m running a successful business. One that I’m passionate about. One that allows me to be outside and not stuck in a white-walled office.
My dad inherited Banks Corp from my grandfather. He never wanted any other path for himself, and he can’t understand why I’m not just falling in line. But then I guess it must be hard to understand someone with whom you’ve spent so little time.
I empty the rest of my water into the spider plant on the island, then put my glass in the dishwasher and climb the stairs up to what used to be the hay loft. It’s now a balcony that runs along the right-hand side of the stables and halfway across the back.
My bed is positioned under a skylight, and I’ve set up a reading nook along the back wall of the stables. A hand-built bookshelf with a sofa and an armchair that Mase calls my “old man living room”. I sit up there and look out over the railing to the rest of the space below.
After spending years in cramped boarding school dorms, I love the openness of it all. The only room in the entire stables that’s got walls and a door is the bathroom off to the side of my bed.
I pull my shirt off over my head as I walk inside the renovated space to have a shower.
I tip my head back, feeling the water run through my hair, and try to stop my mind from straying to Lola.
I thought I had my feelings for her under control.
Not thinking about her at all proved too difficult so I set myself rules.
After each visit I was allowed the time it took for me to shower to let my mind run free.
My plan worked great when Lola was only stopping for a flying visit every six months or so between her travels but now she’s home, my every thought works its way back to her.
I picture my hands on her skin. Her head thrown back as I trace my fingers lower. Purple strands of hair threaded through my fingers after I’ve ordered her to her knees. Those sweet, bratty lips flushed and open.
I groan and press my forehead against the cold stone tiles.
I’m rock hard. This is normally the part where I turn the water to arctic and busy my hands washing my hair, so I don’t use them to do what I really want.
But after today I can’t hold back anymore.
I wrap my fist around my cock and let my eyes flutter shut.
A groan spills from my lips as I stroke myself to completion to filthy fantasies about my best friend’s little sister.
It’s not until I’ve pulled on a pair of sweats and see the message on my phone that I regret it.
Kelsey: Need you to come to the Lagoon, Mase is looking for a fight and there are Vipers here.
Fuck. I throw on a T-shirt and head back out to my pick-up. I don’t know what Mase is thinking. Out of the Ford siblings, he’s the level-headed one but something went down on his last mission, and he’s not been the same since.
I drive as fast as I dare to the Lagoon, parking in the beach car park and crossing the promenade on foot to the local bar.
The Lagoon is one of the few beachfront spots that stays open all year round.
The bar tapped into the indie music scene a few years back and despite it getting flooded with tourists each summer the locals still consider it our own.
It’s also the only place deemed neutral ground for the Vipers MC.
Kelsey may be small, but she runs a tight ship, and she laid down the law years ago that as long as no one causes any trouble, everyone is welcome.
As far as I’m aware there’ve never been any issues but as soon as I walk across the deck and in through the blue saloon doors, I realize that’s about two seconds away from changing.
Everyone in the wooden booths and around the low crate tables is looking over at the bar where Mase and two of the Vipers are facing off. I vaguely recognize them from when we were kids but can’t remember their names.
Mase steps in front of a young woman and shoves a hand into one of the Vipers’ chests. “She told you she wasn’t interested. That means you walk away.”
The other Viper steps forward as his friend stumbles back. “How ’bout you mind your own fucking business, army boy.”
The Viper with the long blond hair smirks as he finds his footing. “Yeah, we were just having some fun, weren’t we baby?” He leers at the woman.
Kelsey locks eyes with me from behind the bar then ushers the woman away. Once she’s safe, Kelsey turns back to the Vipers. “You guys need to take this outside. Now.”
The long-haired Viper flashes her a toothy grin. “Ah relax Kelse. Nothing’s gonna happen. Mase here’s too pussy to fight without receiving orders.”
Fuck. I stride across the bar but I’m too slow to stop Mase’s fist from crunching the Viper’s nose.
“Motherfucker!” The guy lunges for Mase and lands a blow before I manage to pull him away. Mase isn’t done though.
“You think it’s fun to take advantage of women? To fucking rape them!” he shouts over my shoulder as I hold him back.
“What the fuck did you just say?” The Vipers pounce and I brace myself for a hit when a sharp whistle pierces the room.
Max, the Vipers VP, stands by the door, his glower burning into his crew. “Outside. Now.”
I let out a breath and catch Kelsey’s eye.
“Thought you might need a little back-up,” she says.
“Thanks.”
I push Mase onto one of the stools, pissed that apparently, he’s turned into an absolute idiot today. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He sways on the stool. “You don’t touch women without permission.”