Ruthless: Sins of Seven Series Read online

  “We’re here,” I respond, ignoring her earlier words, hoping she’ll drop it. I don’t want her to see me, I lie to myself. Pushing open the door, I drop the keys into the hand of the valet and round the front to help Madison from the vehicle. She slips her small, delicate hand in mine, and once again, a jolt shoots through me and my veins are alight. As if a match has been dropped on me and I’m burning for her.

  Jesus, O’Leary, get a hold of yourself.

  I escort the woman beside me into a large ballroom, which is opulent, decked out in crystal chandeliers, plush Merlot-colored carpets, and shimmering iron trim along the walls holding the wallpaper in place.

  Picture frames hang along the walls, looking like they belong in a historic building like Windsor Castle rather than a rich man’s playground in the middle of Chicago. Everything looks like it’s been dipped in liquid gold and hung up for people who have far too much money to bask in. And bask they do.

  My gaze roams over the crowd as people walk up to Madison to greet her. She’s long since let go of my hand, but I still feel her. She’s close, so much so I can still smell her citrus and floral perfume.

  “And this is Callan O'Leary.” Her voice steals my attention, and I’m brought back to the present.

  The man glances at me with a confident smirk, and I almost allow my dislike of him to show, but I manage to school it just as Madison glances at me with a smile. There’s something about him I don’t like.

  “He works for my father, watching over me like a hawk.” Her innocent words cause him to lift those dark inquisitive brows.

  “Mr. O'Leary.” His voice cuts through me like a hot knife through ice. The man is the spitting image of her asshole ex-boyfriend, Hudson. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.” His mouth lifts into a satisfied smirk because he knows I’m the one who fucked-up his son. The one thing he’s not counting on is that I’d do it again.

  When his son saunters over, his satisfied smirk has me twitching to wipe it off with a few liters of acid. Perhaps even dropping him in a bath of the shit. The man I would like to see six feet under is standing before me with a woman on his arm. Draped over him like an expensive piece of jewelry.

  It’s only when she snarks at Madison do I recognize the made-up Barbie doll. “You’re really wearing that?”

  “She is,” I respond for my woman. “And I’m dying to drive her back home right now and show her just how beautiful I think she looks.” I offer my hand to Hudson’s father, whose name I missed. “It’s good to meet you.”

  We shake before he grins. “Gregory Brockovich. I think you may have met my son, Hudson,” he tells me, and it slowly sinks in with his words. Accusation. Clearly Hudson can’t defend himself, so he ran to Daddy to help him.

  “Yes, we’ve been lucky enough to make an acquaintance,” I respond easily. Slipping my arm around Madison’s waist, I offer the asshole a smirk before greeting. “We’re off to mingle. We’ll probably see you later.”

  With that, I lead my girl away from the tense conversation. All my life, I’ve dealt with war between families, and I don’t want her to experience the shit that comes along with it. I saw it in Gregory’s eyes. It dances like a flame. There was venom dripping from his smirk, giving away his feelings toward me about the fact that Madison is on my arm and not his precious boy's.

  “Are you okay?” Madison looks up at me when we stop at the bar. There’s a crease in her brow as she regards me. In this light, she looks so beautiful and innocent all I want to do is muss her up. Make sure when we walk back out of a dark corner, everyone will know I’ve claimed her.

  “I’m fine. I just realized the people in this room are just as bad as the ones we deal with back home.” We’re all sinners here. All out for ourselves, to ensure everyone knows our names. I think back to my own past and how the O’Learys along with the Morans have always been at odds.

  It’s easy to aim a gun, to pull the trigger, and it’s easy to watch someone’s life flash in their eyes before the light is snuffed out. I could easily do that right here, while looking into Hudson’s shrewd glare. And I’d do it with a smile on my face.

  That kind of training never leaves. It’s always there, beneath the surface. The need to feel your enemies blood drip between your fingers. The cock of a fully loaded gun. The sharp hiss of the bullet leaving the barrel, and the sweet crimson spraying from the wound as it steals the lives of men like Seamus Moran, our lifetime enemy. They don’t deserve to live.

  “I knew a man like him,” I answer finally. “They always saw their demise, but I couldn’t very well go doing something stupid in the middle of a party.” My response is accompanied with a sardonic grin, causing her brown eyes to blaze.

  “I know you’ve killed people, but hearing you say it is strange.” Her whisper is only for me to hear, and I love how close she is to me when she does lean in.

  “Do I scare you?”

  This time she lifts her gaze to mine. There’s a gentleness that she regards me with. It’s not pity, but concern. “You don’t scare me at all, but you do worry me.”

  “Why? Life happens to everyone, but so does death. I used to just deliver it earlier than they were expecting.” My words cause Madison to grip my arm, squeezing as if she really does worry about me. I’ve always scared everyone away, but with her, I can’t find it in myself to do it anymore.

  Her touch is what calms me. It’s she who makes me realize I can do anything and she’d forgive me. But when my eyes land on our enemy, he smirks as if he knows something I don’t. What he doesn’t know is I never back down. I never let the other person win, because I’m good at what I do. And when I set my mind to it, nobody comes out alive.

  We’ll all bear scars of this war.

  We’ll all fight, but only one side can lose, and I’ll ensure he pays for hurting her. If Hudson comes near Madison, he’ll not see the light of day again.

  “Madison, let’s get drinks.” I tug her close to me, which is my first mistake. The second is the way she curves her body into my hold. He sees it. He knows there’s something about her. She’s special to me, and as I turn toward the bar, I berate myself. I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t let him think she’s only here because I’m a guard. She’s here for me.

  I fucked up.

  Big time.

  “What was that?” She doesn’t miss a fucking beat, questioning me as soon as we’re out of earshot. “Callan—”

  “Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, Blossom,” I bite out, knocking on the oak counter of the bar to catch the attention of anyone who can pour me a fucking drink.

  “Don’t shut me out,” she pleads, but I ignore her. She’s fucked with my head, and I just messed up. I’ve put her in danger, and she doesn’t even realize how fucked up this could get. If she only knew I wouldn’t think twice about taking Hudson and slicing him from head to toe just to watch him bleed all over the carpet of this ballroom just to get back at him for hurting her.

  Three months ago, Carrick, my baby brother, flinched when we went to take out a lifetime enemy of our family. He couldn’t do it, so I took the shot. I killed Seamus Moran because he took the life of Rick’s fiancée. An eye for an eye. It’s how we’ve always lived out life.

  And now Hudson knows Madison means something to me. Something in his eyes tells me he wouldn’t stop at hurting her just to get back at me.

  I should never have fucked her. Never have touched or kissed her. Carrick warned me, and I didn’t fucking listen. The barman sets down a tumbler with a double shot of amber liquid, which I swallow down without asking what it is.

  “Another. Better yet, bring the bottle,” I order, and he nods. I watch as he moves around the bar, pulling the bottle of Macallan from the shelf and setting it beside my glass. This is what I need. This is always what calms the storm raging within me. War wages, but as I gulp down the alcohol, I know I’ll ease the tension that knots my muscles.

  “Callan.” Madison pleads my name, causing m
e to finally look at her.

  “Tonight, you’ll go home with one of your father’s men. I’ll be staying at my brother’s place. There’s shit I need to sort out.”

  “What?” Her dark eyes widen in shock at my harsh words, which are spit in frustration. It’s not her fault. I’m the asshole who put her in danger, but I need to take my anger out on someone. Anyone. And she’s right here.

  “You’re such an—”

  “Arsehole?” I finish her sentence. “Tell me something I don’t know by now, baby girl.” I gulp down another shot and a third before she finally pulls my arm until I’m looking at her again. “But I need to sort something out, okay?”

  “Are you really going to send me home alone?” she questions, picking up her white wine. The Chardonnay glistens in the glass as she lifts it to her mouth. Plump, shimmery lips purse as she sips the liquid.

  “Listen to me, Blossom.” I pull her closer, my hand on her hip, my fingers digging into her soft curves. “My job is to keep you safe. I need you to listen to me and stop fighting me at every turn. For once, just let me do what I was hired to do, and that’s ensure you’re safe. Stop being a brat about this.”

  She tugs her arm from my grip, hissing in my ear, “Fuck you, Callan O’Leary. Fuck you and your so-called dangerous life. If I wanted a safe life, I would’ve stayed with Hudson. Perhaps he’ll make me come with this plug in my tight little ass.” Her words are for me, savage and brutal, cold and calculating, but they drip with poisonous desire.

  And I know she feels something more for me.

  And I know deep down, the more I push this woman away, the more she’ll fight me tooth and nail until I’m the one kneeling at her feet.

  Madison

  He’s not telling me something. I see the secrets he’s hiding, and it makes me want to know more. I want to scoop out everything in his mind and devour it. Yes, I may be young, I may be more innocent than he’s used to, but I’m not stupid.

  “I didn’t ask for love, Callan. I didn’t ask for a fucking ring. I’m asking for you to actually let someone in for once in your goddamn life, but clearly, you can’t,” I bite out. Gulping down the wine, I slam the glass on the counter and stalk away from him.

  His voice is rigid behind me, calling to me to stop, but I don’t. I can’t, because the fucking butt plug is making each step more difficult than the last. It feels good, I feel full, but I also feel needy. I want him to touch me, to stroke the ache hanging heavily on my core and ease it somewhat.

  The hallway is dimly lit. There aren’t many people around, and I easily push through the doorway of the stairwell. My back flush against the cool concrete as I inhale deeply, attempting to calm myself from the frustration Callan leaves in his wake.

  He’s like a storm, wreaking havoc on everything he touches, but as much destruction as he causes, he also offers me some kind of calm.

  “Madison fucking Parker, if you don’t—" He comes storming through the door to find me on the step, my arms curled around my legs, my ass at an angle on the concrete because it’s uncomfortable to sit down. But he stalls as if he’s in shock seeing me in this state. My eyes burn from unshed tears, but they’re not from sadness. Rather from the frustration of wanting, needing, and craving a man who pushes me away at every turn.

  I don’t blink.

  I don’t allow them to fall.

  Instead, I pin him with a glare. “Leave me alone, Callan,” I retort, anger entwined in every word, lacing itself around me as I watch him breathe.

  “Do you know how much danger you’re in?” he growls. He fucking grunts like an animal about to devour its prey, and I know I’m the deer caught by the lion.

  “What? Because you decided to piss off Hudson and his dad?” My words cause him to stall. He stops his approach and glares at me.

  “I know men like him. He’ll hurt you, kill you.” Those words are not new to me. I’ve heard it all before. But I’m done playing kids games. I’m over being the frail flower everyone thinks I am.

  “Why don’t you check yourself, Callan?” I bite out, rising to full height. The sadness he caused is gone, and in its wake is something new. A strength I didn’t know existed inside me. “I’ve been threatened before. Fuck, I’ve even been kidnapped before, so don’t think for one second I’m some delicate flower you need to protect.” I take a step closer to him, lowering myself from the stair until we’re toe to toe. “Let me tell you something, Mr. O’Leary, I can fight a man off me. I can hold a gun, and I wouldn’t flinch if I had to pull the trigger. So don’t for one fucking minute think I need you to protect me.”

  My words cause another flare of anger, frustration, and something else I never knew existed inside him — respect. I’m certain I’ve convinced him. I’m sure after my show of strength he’ll finally give me what I want.

  But it all comes crashing down when he shakes his head.

  “This time, you’ll obey me.” He grips my arm, tugging me out the door and toward the exit. We make our way hastily as my father’s name is called, but there’s nobody there to accept the award. The car is brought around only moments after we’ve stepped out into the chilly night, and I’m plonked into the passenger seat without a word. He locks me inside as he rounds the front, and then he’s beside me. I have no choice but to allow him to take me home.

  The silence that hangs between us in the space of the vehicle is stifling as he grips the steering wheel with a white-knuckle hold. The tension radiating off him holds my attention, it steals every inhale and exhale as I watch him command the vehicle through the streets.

  I don’t look at the road, my gaze focused on Callan. On his broad frame, his taut muscles beneath a beautiful suit. We didn’t even get to dance tonight. The thought unbidden but saddening as it pops into my mind.

  It’s only moments later that we’re pulling into the long driveway of the Parker mansion. He still hasn’t spoken. He moves with precision, opening my door, helping me from the SUV. We make our way toward the house, and I watch him unlock it, shoving open the door and allowing me to step inside first. There are soft yellow lights all around the foyer, and when I look at Callan, he’s cast in a gentle glow.

  A devil inside an angel’s body.

  “You should get some sleep. I’ll contact your father and inform him we missed the ceremony due to safety precautions. Then—”

  “Callan—”

  “I’m leaving now, Madison. Have a lovely evening.”

  He doesn’t wait for me to say anything more, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him. I try to pull on it, but he’s locked it.

  He’s left.

  He walked out, and it’s because of me.

  * * *

  It’s been two days.

  Long, dreary, and annoying days.

  I woke up the night after the event to an empty bed. I had to remove the fucking plug from my ass in the shower. I ached. My whole body was alight with need, and there was nobody around to ease it. But that’s not why I’m angry. That morning, I was informed Callan had given over the post as my bodyguard to someone else. Another man on my father’s team to escort me around.

  I don’t mind so much. He’s older, married, and he’s only here for his paycheck, but it’s the fact that Callan told me he was only going to sort something out stings. My chest aches because as much as I didn’t admit it, I fell for him.

  Sighing, I stare at the ceiling, wondering what he’s doing, where he is. All my calls have gone unanswered. Even the messages I’ve sent him, both angry, forgiving, and wanting. He’s not responded to any of them. I let my frustration out in a long text message. I told him everything that was on my mind, but even when I was brutally honest, he couldn’t give me the same in return.

  Perhaps it’s better that he’s gone. But as soon as I think that, my heart aches, my chest tightens with pain so acute it steals my breath. My emotions get the better of me when I remember how he felt, his touch, his filthy words, and the way he fit inside me like he was meant to be
there.

  A knock at my door startles me, and I’m on my feet in seconds. When I pull it open, I find my father standing on the other side. He looks stressed out, disheveled.

  “Dad.”

  “Madison.” He offers a curt nod and enters my room. He doesn’t look at me, rather heads toward the window and stares out of it for a long while. “You were meant to be the good girl, looking after the Parker name,” he starts, and I know what’s coming.

  “Look, Dad—”

  He spins on his heel, glaring at me angrily. I’ve seen my father upset before, but the rage that seems to simmer from him is something else. “I trusted you, Madison. You asked to be treated like an adult, and I did. I left here for a month and have been called back a week early because you decided to galivant with your bodyguard.”

  “I did not galivant!” I retort hotly. “I fell in love!”

  “Love? You’re a child. You have no idea what love is. Hudson gave you—”

  “Hudson?” I’m screeching, but I don’t care. I hope the whole goddamn city hears me. “Did Hudson tell you how he came into my room to force me on the bed? Did Hudson tell you that he got beaten up by Callan because he hurt me?”

  My father’s mouth falls open in shock, and I take that as my cue.

  “I didn’t think so. Because you know what Hudson is? A fucking animal! At least Callan treated me like a lady. He respected me, made me smile.”

  “This is ridiculous. I’ve spoken to Mr. Brockovich. We’re setting up your nuptials to Hudson. They’re to take place in a week.”

  Rage shudders through me violently.

  “What?” The word is hissed from my lips as I glare at my father, ready to set him alight with a mere glance.

  “You heard me.” There’s tension wafting from him like a cheap cologne. He’s always been relaxed, calm, but he seems on edge, which only makes me wary as to where he’s been and why he’s trying to once again ruin my life.

  “You can’t do this.”