Claiming Amber (A Broken Heart Book 2) Page 11

  When I returned for air, I was surprised to find Michael gone. He had given me the space that I had asked for. The jeans clung to me like a second skin, but I finally managed to pull them off while standing in the water. I tossed them and my sweater out of the pool. I always found freedom and peace in water. The beach was my favorite place to go. I loved swimming in the sea and had spent many happy days there. I hadn’t gone back in a long time. I think I was afraid to be happy, in case it was taken away again. I pushed my body harder, freeing myself from my thoughts and focused on each stroke, the swell of my lungs, how the water parted for me. I stayed in that zone for a while.

  A lone figure appeared just as I broke through the water and grabbed the ledge, panting from the exercise and eyeing the unwelcome visitor suspiciously. Matthew kneeled down smiling at me, holding a towel. My initial reaction to push back and swim away kicked in, but I didn’t move. “You’re a great swimmer,” Matthew smiled.

  I didn’t pretend. “What do you want?” I quickly looked at the door for Michael, and Matthew followed my gaze.

  “I told him to take a break, that I would keep an eye on you,” he said.

  “And is that what you are going to do, Matthew? Keep an eye on me?” My heart pounded. He could use the towel to strangle me or hold me down under the water. I knew I could out-swim him, but I didn't think I would be a match for his strength.

  “I know we got off on the wrong foot, Amber, and for that, I’m sorry. But I know what you mean to Emmett, and he is like a son to me. I just want us to get along.” I would have laughed, but fear of this man had me nodding. “Amber, I can see you don’t want to, but you don’t have to fear me. I would never hurt you.” This time, I couldn’t stop the disbelief that crossed my face. His hand touched my joined hands, and it took everything for me not to move. “I saved you from those monsters, Amber.” If he knew I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.

  “I know, Matthew, and thank you for that,” Goosebumps broke out all over my exposed skin; but the cold air in the pool wasn't the cause of the goosebumps.

  “I know you know about Liam, but it isn’t what you think. Emmett knows what happened. I can’t say any more than that.” Matthew looked at me like he was letting me in on a secret, as if this knowledge made me part of the group. He smiled now, and all the milk spots that coated his forehead and cheeks stood out more, his hand still covered mine and he patted it. “I’m sorry for what they did.”

  I shivered now at the memory. “I’m glad it’s over,” I said carefully, playing my role as I looked back up at Matthew, who watched me carefully and closely. I moved to push back into the water but Matthew’s hold on my hand held me still.

  “So we're good?” he asked with a smile.

  I smiled back. “Yeah, we are.” We both smiled at one another. He had to have known I wasn’t buying his shit, no more than he was buying mine. When I pushed back this time, he let go. Relieved, I swam backways, watching him, he left the towel on the side of the pool and left. Once the door closed, I moved to the side and tried to slow down my racing heart. If I didn’t get out of this place soon, I would die. I could feel it in my bones.

  I left the pool, picking up my clothes and passing the towel that Matthew had left for me. I left the pool area in search of Michael. I really couldn’t be left unattended; Matthew’s unnerving visit had reminded me of that. I entered the large kitchen, and everyone stopped talking as they looked at me. A few raised eyebrows, and some smiles made me remember that I stood in my underwear, soaking wet.

  Mandy nearly spat out her tea. “Jesus Amber, what happened to you? You’re soaking wet,” she added, stating the obvious.

  “I went for a swim, anyone seen Michael?” I held the clothes a little tighter to myself, feeling really exposed now.

  JP had been smiling, but now stopped. “Let’s get you a towel,” he said, sounding worried and somewhat panicked. Calm down sunshine, I thought. Everyone had grown way too serious.

  “Seriously I just went for a swim. I’ll find Michael myself.” I turned to leave and slammed into a solid chest. His smell had my cheeks reddening. I didn’t look up at him; my mind tried to sort through what I was feeling. The raw emotions that I knew he would see if I did look up at him kept my head down. I felt like the world was holding its breath as a towel was draped over my shoulders.

  I looked back at JP. He looked from me to Emmett, who hadn’t spoken. My hands brushed his chest as I pulled the towel tight around myself before my eyes travelled from his chest to his eyes, my stomach erupted. The blue was like ice; once again I couldn’t get a read on him. I swallowed my emotions, so many of them. I took a small step back trying to put space between us. I felt like I just needed fresh air. Right now, all I could smell was Emmett’s aftershave filling my lungs. I shivered, this time from the cold that came with the loss of his warmth.

  “I better get dressed,” I said. He still hadn’t said a word, and the silence behind me was making this more awkward. I moved around Emmett, but his fingers tightened on my forearm that was covered by the towel, yet his touch still felt like fire.

  “What were you doing?” His voice startled me. It sounded different, deeper.

  “Swimming.” I stated, as if it were obvious.

  “In your clothes?” His words were accompanied with the slightest smile that had me nearly flipping my shit, but a stupid-ass smile spread across my face without my permission.

  “Yeah, I like swimming.” I admitted. Emmett looked pointedly over my head at the nosy lot behind us. Noise erupted behind us, and instead of giving me the relief I thought I would feel, it just made this moment with Emmett more intimate.

  “In your clothes,” Emmett said again.

  “I do prefer a swimsuit. But I was too lazy to go into town and get one.” My words had his face turn to stone.

  “Don’t even think about leaving, Amber, it’s too dangerous.” His fingers were heavy on my arm now.

  “Jesus, calm down. It was meant to be a joke. You know what normal people do?” Why the fuck was I so angry? He was confusing me, and I didn’t like it. I yanked away angrily and slipped on a puddle of water that had pooled under me. Emmett caught me, and I closed my eyes briefly and inhaled as he held me steady.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I looked at Emmett, searching his face. “For what?” I asked. For dragging me into this shit, I thought.

  “For not getting your joke.” He was so serious, and I found myself laughing. That’s what he was sorry for? “You find me funny?” He asked sounding amused, almost playful.

  “Yeah you’re a real hoot, Emmett,” I told him.

  EMMETT

  Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes sparkled playfully, and she looked at me like no one ever had. She was so...alive. I wanted to kiss her in that moment. I didn’t care that we were still being watched. I didn’t want the conversation to stop, but I also didn’t like how everyone was getting an eyeful.

  “Yeah, comedy is one of my talents.” She laughed again, and I watched as she covered her mouth. She did that every time she laughed. I watched as small crinkles appeared at the side of her eyes, beautiful dimples appeared also, and when she opened her eyes, they sparkled. “You shouldn’t hide your smile,” I told her.

  It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

  I loved studying her, but every time she noticed, she grew serious. She would either get smart and pull me up or grow shy.

  This time, she went for smart. “I had braces when I was younger for like two years. So, it’s a habit. And, if we are on the topic of smiling, you should just smile more. Like, I think you have smiled three times since I met you."

  “You’ve been keeping count?” Her blush was the answer. “Well, I best work on that, then,” I told her, and I was delighted to see surprise light up her eyes.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  EMMETT

  24 Hours Before

  I ENTERED AN Irish pub, where the leader of the Black Bloods said he would meet me. T
he barman looked up from drying a large glass; the pub was empty. Bar stools ran the full length of an old and impressive bar. The rest of the floor was separated with booths, plenty of hiding places. I didn’t think the leader, who liked to be called Silver, would kill me, but others might. The bar was dark and gloomy, with shadows cast everywhere. It was then I noticed that the bar had no windows at all.

  The barman nodded at me, his face gruff, and his stomach swelling over his jeans’ belt. He returned to drying his glass. The 9mm in my jacket gave me a little sense of calm, but everything else about this setup felt wrong. I sat at a high, round table that was positioned close to the main door and beside the wall, where I could protect my back, and waited.

  A man entered through a back door that held a dartboard. He entered alone, smiling. I could see now why he was called Silver. His long mane of jet-black hair had one chunk of silver in it. His features were Chinese. He flexed his hands, covered in fingerless leather gloves that matched his leather pants. “Mr. Harrington.” He smiled wide, his eyes nearly disappearing completely.

  I shook his outstretched hand. “Silver, thanks for meeting me,” I said as he let me go and jumped up on the stool across from me.

  “Freddie, two large ones.” He raised a thumb of his small fist as he spoke, and Freddie moved quickly and got us our drinks. I got down to the task at hand.

  “I am delivering a shipment for Mr. Kirill and I just wanted to meet you first, before we did business.” Freddie dropped the pints of muck in front of us. Silver drank nearly half before Freddie had even left the table. I didn’t touch mine.

  “So, pleasure before business? Smart man.” He ran his hand along his beard, his face set in a permanent, unnerving smile.

  Silver emptied his beer and ordered another while looking at my full one. “I’m more of a top-shelf man,” I said.

  “Name it.”

  “Hennessy brandy would be fine,” I told him. Freddie didn’t fail, and I drank the glass down. Refusing a drink in this situation would be stupid.

  “Leave the bottle, Freddie,” Silver said before lighting up a cigarette. I took the outstretched cigarette that Silver offered, and this seemed to please him. “My father only recently handed me over the business.” He took a deep drag before flicking the ashes on the ground. “Honestly, I didn’t want it, seen too much bad blood. But us sons must listen to our fathers.” He smiled, raising his glass clicking it against the bottle of brandy. My cue to refill. So, I did. “How’s yours?” he asked. I could see it, he knew we weren’t speaking. The only questions I had were how he could have known, and who told him. But before I could answer, the door opened.

  “I’m good, Silver.” I knew he was coming. I had asked him to, but seeing my father walk through the door had me chucking down my drink. I didn’t want him to see any reaction from me. Inside was a different story. The only satisfaction to this was Silver’s paling face; he got over his shock and smiled.

  “And the devil walked into a bar,” he said.

  When I had worked for my father, if anyone had referred to him as the Devil, which most did, I wouldn’t let it stand. But now, being older and wiser, and away from him, I knew they were right. He was the Devil, and he deserved the title. My father and Silver embraced like they really were old friends. I stiffened as my father’s hand squeezed my shoulder. I wanted to break it, but I needed to make it look real. So, I did nothing. I wasn’t known for my affection.

  “My son,” my father said, looking me dead in the eye. The glee I saw made me regret asking him for help. I knew—eventually—it was going to cost me. But I had no one else to turn to, and I was a resourceful man.

  “Thanks for coming,” I said as he released me and sat down.

  Silver smiled and nodded at me. “You sneaky dog, you,” he said it in a joking manner, but I could hear the underlying threat.

  My father shifted, and I placed my hand on his arm, surprising him. “He’s right. I didn’t tell him you were coming.”

  “I think a little more respect in the future would be nice,” Silver said. I was ready to nod and play nice, but my father wasn’t.

  “You should be the one showing respect, Silver. I think you know what happens to people who aren’t.”

  Silver raised both his hands. “Respect works both ways, Devil. I’m just saying.”

  “And I’m just saying, don’t ever talk to my son like that again. You’re a piece of shit that I tolerate for your father's sake.” Silver let out a humorless laugh, the lighter now sat in his hand as he flipped it between his forefinger and thumb.

  “Everyone needs to relax.” I directed this to my father, who really didn’t seem to give a shit how this was going, and that alone worried me. “So, we will meet at the Yproc docks, four pm,” I said to Silver, who briefly stopped playing with the lighter.

  “One of my men will contact one of yours.” He stood, ready to leave. I thought this would go much smoother, and my heart sank as my father stood, deliberately blocking Silver. I stayed seated, my hand close to my gun in case I needed it.

  “No need to have someone contact us, Silver. You will be there.” My father smiled; it was empty. People often said I had his eyes and smile. I really hoped I didn’t. They always seemed soulless.

  “Sure thing, Devil.” Silver was definitely new to the game. His disrespect might be let go here, but other leaders wouldn’t tolerate it. Silver walked past my father, the barman was still drying the same glass, his eyes downcast, but he was listening. Who was he listening for? I wondered as I eyed him.

  My thoughts shattered as a single gunshot had me reaching for my own gun. I turned as my father fired for the second time, the glass smashed as the barman hit the ground behind the bar. A pool of blood grew around Silver’s head.

  “A head shot? Are you out of your mind?” My father didn’t even blink at my tone. “What have you done?” This time I grabbed him, but he shoved me off.

  “He isn’t fit to lead.” He still held his gun, pointing it at Silver’s body.

  “We needed him, I asked for your help. This is putting me deep in it.” Closing my eyes briefly, I fought with my monster who rattled the bars of his cage.

  My eyes opened as my father’s hand weighted heavily on my shoulder. “Stop worrying, son. It will work itself out. His father should have never gone into retirement. This way he has to come back out."

  “Yeah, I get that. But for what? To find out who killed his son?” I shrugged off my father’s arm and walked to the bar, leaning over it. I wanted to make sure the barman really was dead. Blood gurgled from his mouth as he fought for his life, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, then he just stopped, went still. Dead.

  “Can you get one of your men to do clean-up?” My father asked me, as if we were having a casual conversation about the weather.

  I leaned back over the bar to find my father putting on his black leather gloves. “What are you going to tell Silver’s father?” I asked, and was rewarded with a smile.

  “That the barman shot him, and I shot the barman. Did you see how he was listening? That means he was working for someone. It wasn’t me. Was it you?”

  “No, it wasn’t. I’ll get Matthew on clean-up,” I said, pulling out my phone.

  “His father will hunt down whoever hired the barman.” My father looked happy with himself. I dialed Matthew’s number.

  “And when he finds out the barman was only here to listen, not kill him, what then?” I asked as Matthew’s phone rang. My father pulled a gun out of his pocket and fired three bullets around the main door.

  “Emmett, are you okay?” The worry in Matthews’s voice sounded sincere. Anger rose inside me, but I dowsed it.

  “Fine. I need you to come to O’Flatterties, for a clean-up."

  “On my way,” Matthew said, not missing a beat.

  “My father’s here,” I said before hanging up.

  The man in question smiled at me. “I get to see my old pal, Matthew.” He moved behind the bar. I
knew he was placing the gun in the barman’s hand.

  “You can’t touch him,” I warned as I watched Silver’s blood run into the cracks of the large slabbed tiles.

  “Tomorrow, the extra protection will be placed on your people, so they can leave the compound.” I looked at my father now. He hadn’t said anything about not touching Matthew, and I was worried. I swallowed. The price of all this was steep, and I wondered yet again, was it too steep? He narrowed his eyes at me. “You will hold up your end, son. I would hate to have to kill you.”

  The door to the pub opened and Matthew arrived, his eyes darting from me to my father. Mercifully, he didn’t hesitate, but nodded at me and silently got to work. “Yeah, I will,” I said as my father searched my face, and I shut it down.

  He smiled. “You are becoming more like me each day, son.” His words were giving life to my deepest fear. I didn’t want to be my father’s son.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  AMBER

  OVER THE NEXT few hours, I watched as people left, each being gifted at the door with their own personal bodyguard. I bounced up and down at the bottom of the stairs, watching everyone. I needed to get out of here. I hadn’t seen Emmett since earlier, when I was caught half-naked, and now Michael no longer tagged around after me. Matthew smiled when he saw me. I tried to return it, but I wasn’t sure if I succeeded.

  I had searched the house twice for Emmett. No luck.

  “You're leaving?” I jogged to the door as Mandy was being given a bodyguard by JP.

  “Can I go with her?” I asked JP, not allowing Mandy a moment to answer.

  He shook his head. “You have to wait for Emmett.” He sounded exhausted. It was like the hundredth time I had tried to be a third wheel with couples only to have JP turn me away. But this time was different. It was Mandy, and she was alone.