Taming Rough Waters Page 8

  When I had myself under control again, I left the laundry room to go to the kitchen. Violet was sitting at the table with her tablet and the half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich I'd made her for lunch. She also had a glass of the almond milk she'd begged Evan to buy for her, along with some other vegan foods. Apparently, my little brother was a sucker for a pleading little girl, and he'd bought whatever she wanted.

  She startled guiltily as she noticed me walk in, and I eyed her suspiciously as she put the tablet to sleep and started wolfing down her sandwich instead. I wondered what she was up to, and opened my mouth to question her just as the doorbell rang. I frowned and headed for the front door, wondering who was here in the middle of a Wednesday.

  I crossed the house and went to the door, pausing to peek through the peephole and instantly tensing when I recognized who was here. I closed my eyes and braced myself for a moment, before the doorbell rang yet again. I unlocked the door with a sigh and opened it to see my father standing there with an impatient expression.

  "It's about time you answered the door," he grumbled as he pushed his way in without waiting for me to invite him inside.

  I watched him stride into the living room dressed in his khaki work shirt and dark pants. An I.D. badge hung on his chest announcing that he worked in the maintenance department of the hospital. The same one Beth worked at. He was a stocky man, an inch or so shy of six-feet tall, with gray hair and sharp steel blue eyes just like Evan and me. Those blue eyes were now giving me and my ratty T-shirt and sweat pants a once-over and frowning when he found me lacking. Welcome to the story of my life.

  "I figured you were still unemployed, so I found you some work," he said gruffly.

  "Dad, I already-"

  He cut me off. "The hospital cafeteria is hiring, and I called in a favor to get you an interview this afternoon."

  "Dad, that's not nec-" I tried again.

  "The pays not great, but I suppose it's better than leaching off your brother." He looked at his watch. "If you get dressed right away we can just make it in time."

  "Dad," I finally said sharply in irritation, trying to ignore his passive-aggressive jab. He was still upset that Violet and I didn't move in with him when I came back home. Like I'd even considered for one second living under his roof ever again or working at the same place he did for that matter. This man was one of the biggest reasons I left this town twelve years ago. "I already got a job."

  He eyed me with a skeptical expression. "Where?" he asked tersely.

  "A place called The Indigo Room," I replied.

  "That nightclub?" he asked incredulously with a mortified expression.

  "Yes."

  "What the hell kind of a place is that for a mother to work?" he asked indignantly.

  "A place that pays well and lets me use Evan's truck to get there," I replied calmly, not wanting to make this worse.

  He shook his head. "I swear, your life choices just keep getting worse and worse," he said in disgust. "The only thing you ever did right was marry Ray." He shook his head and glared at me. "He was a hell of a lot better than that deadbeat loser you were with before him."

  "He was not a loser, goddamn it," I snapped out irritably, close to losing my temper. Calder was the only thing I ever thought I did right. I was the loser who fucked it up. I'd be damned if I let Dad say those things about him.

  "How dare you speak to me that way!" Dad retorted with a snarl. "You little b-"

  "Don't yell at my mom!" Violet's voice called out angrily.

  Dad and I whirled to find my daughter standing in the doorway into the kitchen. She was glaring at her grandfather with flashing green eyes and a hard stare that frighteningly channeled her father. Even at ten it was intimidating.

  Dad turned back to me with a sneer. "Are you going to let your daughter talk to me like that?"

  "Are you going to talk to your daughter like that?" Violet asked next, unerringly calling my father out on his hypocrisy.

  Dad's face reddened in dumbfounded anger with his mouth opening and closing several times, rendered speechless by a ten-year-old girl.

  My little girl was fearless, smart, and precocious. She was also far more observant than most kids her age. My father didn't stand a chance against her. Violet hadn't spent her childhood under his overbearing thumb like I'd been, worn down and intimidated by him year after year. Ray had treated her like an angel, unlike how he treated me, who'd been his glorified nanny and housekeeper after I gave him what he wanted, a child. Thanks to Ray though, I was relieved to discover when I returned home that I wasn't intimidated by my father anymore. Ray had been a real threat. My blustering father was just a sad lonely man angry at the world.

  "Go home, Dad," I said in disgust before he could find his voice again.

  "Well, at least I have a home," he finally managed to say as he glared at me. "Unlike my ungrateful daughter who'd rather work at a filthy nightclub than take the decent job I found for her."

  My father may not intimidate me anymore, but unfortunately, he could still hurt me, and knew just how to do it. The guilt of living off my brother reared up to torment me yet again, and I suddenly felt worthless and clammed up as I fought my threatening tears. I refused to cry in front of him and let him know he'd gotten to me.

  "Why are you so mean?" Violet asked sharply as she marched toward us. "If you can't be nice, you shouldn't say anything."

  "Now listen here, young lady," Dad said angrily as he pointed at Violet. "Your mother may let you talk that way to adults, but I won't tolerate that kind of disrespect."

  "Just go home, Dad," I said bitingly, my maternal instincts kicking in. He might talk to me that way, but I'd be damned if I let him do it to Violet. "I don't need your help or that job. I can take care of myself."

  "Sure you can," he growled out snidely as he turned from Violet and gave me a scoffing expression. He headed for the door and leaned in as he passed me. "Don't come crying to me when you fuck this up, just like everything else in your life." He walked out without another word and slammed the door behind him.

  This time I couldn't hold back the tears that burst out of me, his words cutting deep and too close to home. Why did I let that man still affect me so much? I dropped down to sit on the nearby sofa and covered my face with my hands as harsh painful sobs tore up out of me.

  The next thing I knew Violet wrapped her arms around my shoulders, murmuring sweet comforting and reassuring words to me as she stroked my hair and hugged me tight. It should have made me feel better, but all it managed to do was make me feel worse. What kind of mother had to be defended and comforted by her own daughter? I'll tell you, the worthless kind.

  CHAPTER

  TEN

  ____________________

  Calder

  I'd been standing here in my office for far too long now, obsessively watching the security feeds of The Indigo Room like it was some reality show I couldn't pull my eyes from. And the focus of my fixation? Ella.

  I stared at the massive television mounted on the wall next to my desk that could be hidden behind a retractable canvas and disguised as a large piece of art. I'd kept it hidden last weekend, refusing to give in to the urge to spy on her while she worked, but tonight I couldn't resist. I absently ran my thumb over my lips, intently watching her hips sway as she moved from table to table to drop off drinks and take orders, and thinking about that unbelievable and godforsaken kiss yet again.

  I couldn't stop thinking about it, no matter how I tried, the softness of her lips and the way she'd melted so willingly against me. I still wanted her. Each morning since, I'd woken in the aftermath of a vivid sex dream, rock hard, frustrated, and pissed off, the feelings persisting throughout the rest of the day. The constant physical pull toward her wasn't as strong or as frightening as the day I kissed her, but it was still worrisome and getting old. I needed to do something about it, and today I'd finally had enough.

  I met Claudia at Désir Dangereux a few hours ago, intent on working ou
t my sexual frustration on her in the hopes it would keep it at bay while working tonight. I had her kneeling naked for me in my private playroom, ready and willing for anything I wanted to do to her. I stood there in front of her with my crop in hand, ready to dish out the pleasure/pain that Claudia and I both craved.

  Instead, I took one long look at her, and balked. This wasn't what I wanted. It was a poor substitute for her, the woman I really wanted. The one I longed to pleasure as much as I longed to hurt and to punish too. I knew Claudia would be up for all those things, her inner masochist a willing participant with my more sadistic tendencies when I played, but it wasn't fair to her to be a stand-in for another woman. It wasn't right to play when I was all twisted up inside like this. It was clear to me that I wasn't in the proper head space for this at all.

  I said Claudia's name to call an end to the night, then froze with a jolt as she looked up at me. I dropped my crop as I suddenly saw what I'd never noticed before, her uncanny and unnerving similarities to her, from those blue eyes and that oval face to the long blond hair and tall slender body. I just stood there staring, horrified into silence by the revelation.

  Had I unconsciously begun this arrangement with Claudia because she looked like her? Had she been a substitute for what I really wanted, to hurt and punish her for the past? For that matter, had all my other subs been too? They hadn't all been blonds, but there had certainly been a lot of them. Fuck.

  "Sir?" Claudia finally asked worriedly when I hadn't moved or spoken for several long moments.

  "I...I apologize, Claudia, but I can't continue this arrangement anymore," I said in a husky vulnerable sounding voice that gave away far more emotion than I intended. "I'm ending our contract."

  Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked confused for a moment, but then a look of dawning understanding came over her face.

  "What's her name, sir?" she asked in a curious tone as she smiled softly up at me.

  Her reaction was unexpected and disconcerting. Even though Claudia had been clear from the start that this was merely physical for her too, I'd expected anger or at least a few tears, not this. We'd been playing together for several months after all.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I replied sharply, denying the truth I couldn't even handle myself.

  She bowed her head respectfully. "Of course," she said in a dubious tone. "I'm sorry if I overstepped, sir."

  With her head down and her hair obscuring her face, it was easy to start imagining that she was someone else kneeling there on the floor for me. The jolt of longing and arousal that hit me was distressing, and it infuriated me.

  "Get dressed," I barked out abruptly, wanting to get her the hell out of here sooner than later. "I'll see you out to your car."

  She dressed hurriedly, and I escorted her out of the empty club to her car, ignoring her worried and knowing glances as she got into her vehicle. I watched her drive away, then went straight to The Indigo Room after that. I'd been hiding in my office with the door locked watching her ever since.

  Right now, she was walking across the club's main room. I tracked her across the different feeds split across the large TV screen, calm and confident as she walked. That is until she reached the empty hallway to the break room. Then her shoulders hunched, and her steps slowed as her demeanor faltered. She lifted her hands to wipe at her eyes. I stepped toward the television to get a closer look at her as unwanted sympathy fell over me. Was she crying? She disappeared into the break room where there was no camera before I could tell for sure.

  I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes thoughtfully. She wasn't the same woman I remembered anymore. Something had dimmed the light that used to shine inside her, and practically snuffed it out. It really bothered me. I worriedly wondered what happened to her, a bone deep longing to go to her and comfort her coming over me.

  I immediately glared at the screen, angry and irritated with myself. Why did I care? She was the one who snuffed out what little light I had left twelve years ago. She just took off, and I never saw her again. Whatever happened to her, karma had given her back what she deserved. I flipped the switch that lowered the canvas down to cover the television, and stalked over to my desk. I dropped into my chair with a low growl, intent on getting some work done to distract myself from my pointless and infuriating preoccupation with that woman.

  A knock sounded on my door, and I leaped to my feet, grateful for the distraction. I opened the door to find Scott standing there. I sighed in relief. His calming presence was always a balm to me, and I needed it right now.

  "Hey," he said as I stepped aside to let him enter. He had a file folder tucked under his arm and was wearing a gray T-shirt and khaki pants, which was pretty dressed up for him on any given day.

  He walked unhurried across my office to the sitting area on the far side of the room and lowered himself onto the low gray sofa, then dropped the file folder down on the coffee table. Without a word, I went to the small refrigerator tucked in one corner and pulled out two bottles of sparkling water. I handed one to Scott and took a seat in a cream club chair across from him. I watched him open his drink as I did the same.

  He motioned toward the file with the bottle in his hand. "I did that background check for you." He took a long pull from his drink as I set mine down and picked up the folder. "And it ain't pretty."

  I eyed him sharply with narrowed eyes. He nodded toward the file, and I flipped it open. The first thing I saw was a photo of a tall fit middle-aged man in a designer suit with dark hair and a short beard. He was handsome, yet imposing as hell, with cold and intense dark-green eyes and the hard expression of a man not to be trifled with. I stared at the image uneasily. Something about this man rubbed me the wrong way.

  "That's her late husband of eleven years, Raymond Voss," Scott explained.

  Wow, eleven years. Ella didn't waste any time at all replacing me. I ignored the twinge of pain that clutched my heart at that thought as Scott continued.

  "Before he was killed in a private plane crash several months ago, he was under investigation by the Feds."

  My head shot up and I looked at Scott with wide incredulous eyes.

  He nodded with a grim expression. "Apparently, he was some big-shot crime boss passing himself off as a legitimate business man, and a real piece of work. Drugs, possible murder, prostitution, money laundering. You name it, the Feds were looking into it."

  "Holy fuck," I mumbled under my breath.

  I flipped to the next photo. Voss was in this one too, and so was Ella. They were both dressed in elegant formal wear in a candid shot taken at what looked like some high-society event. Voss was escorting Ella with a proprietary hand on her arm that spoke of ownership, but without a hint of affection that I could see in his grim expression. Ella walked beside him with her eyes downcast, and her body language defeated and subdued. I frowned, not liking it one damn bit, even as a more doubtful thought occurred to me.

  "If her husband was so rich, why is she working here?" I asked dubiously.

  "The Feds seized everything right before he died. She's got nothing."

  I narrowed my eyes at the photo. Was that why she was here now? Her sugar daddy died, and she was back home on the prowl for a new one? After all, she left me because I couldn't provide her with financial security. It seemed like almost too much of a coincidence for her to end up getting a job in my club. The jaded, bitter, and distrustful man I was couldn't help wondering if maybe she researched me and thought our old connection was something she could exploit for her own gain now that I had money.

  Anger surged inside me in an instant. If that was the case, she was in for a rude fucking awakening. I ground my teeth together and crinkled the photo in my clenching hands. I scowled and shoved it back into the file, then slapped it down onto the coffee table, unable to stand looking at it any longer. I looked up to see Scott eying me closely in concern.

  "You don't usually have me doing background checks on your employees," he said suspiciou
sly. "And you look pissed as hell. What's going on?"

  I sighed and rubbed my thumb across my lips. "It's her," I confessed bitterly.

  Scott's brows practically flew up to his hairline. "That Ella?" he asked incredulously.

  I nodded and leaned back into my chair as Scott scowled along with me now.

  "What the fuck," he snarled out. He was one of only two people who knew about my history with her. His expression became concerned. "Are you okay?"

  I glanced away shamefully and unconsciously fingered the crook of my left elbow, not relishing what I had to tell him next. "I visited my mother on Sunday," I said quietly. He was also one of only two people who knew about my mother. He also knew that I usually only visited her if I was battling down a really severe heroin craving, and he knew it had been a long time since I needed to.

  "Did you use?" he asked sternly.

  I met his eyes unwaveringly now. "No," I replied firmly.

  He held my gaze for several long penetrating seconds, then nodded in satisfaction.

  "You should fire her," he said with a hard expression.

  "I know," I answered in a subdued tone.

  "And if she's a gold digger trying to suck you in, then it's even more of a reason to can her ass, sooner than later," he continued harshly. "It's not worth your sobriety or your life." Scott was very protective of me for a good reason. He'd found me overdosing on several occasions, including the one when I almost died.

  I nodded in agreement as the anger began to surge back up again at the thought of her coming here to try to use me.

  Scott nodded in reply and stood. "I have to go," he said. "I've got some philandering dumbfuck to photograph tonight." He smirked. "Such is the glamorous life of a private investigator."