Freeing Him: A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2 (21 page)

BOOK: Freeing Him: A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2
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“No?” A bitter laugh escapes. “Then you don’t know me very well.”

“I can help you.”

He shakes his head. “What? Because you’re a shrink? I don’t need that kind of help. I know what’s wrong with me. What I need is to find a way to escape. And as long as my father’s alive, that won’t be possible.”

“Why can’t you walk away like Kolson did? Start your own company?”

He shakes his head and then mumbles, “So naïve.” Then he says louder, “It doesn’t work that way with him. I walk and I die. He’d find a way.”

I press on. “Can’t you go to the authorities?”

“Authorities? My dad owns the authorities,” he says resentfully.

“Not all of them. The FBI wants him.”

“You can’t be serious.”

I stop here. My better judgment overrules my desire to help him. As much as I want to and as much as I know he wants to leave, there is that warped tie he has to Langston. I’ve said too much already. Instead of talk, I lace my fingers with his.

“If you ever decide to leave, you can come to me. I’ll do anything to help you.”

His eyelids close and he drops his head forward. The internal battle that wages within him is loud. I question whether I’m being fair to this man who’s been through so much. But I quash that thought because I know I’d do anything, anything at all, to get Kolson back.

The waiter comes to take our order. I can’t eat anything now, so I order coffee. Kestrel does the same.

“What did he do after he came back to the house? After he killed Storm?”

“He locked himself in his office. I left the house because I was so disgusted.”

“Where did you go?”

He raises his brows. “Gabby, you really want to know?”

My cheeks heat. It’s obvious what he did.

“No. I didn’t mean to pry.”

His lips curl. “It’s not like I don’t have any kind of life away from my father, you know.”

“So tell me exactly why you wanted to see me.”

“To apologize.”

“No, that’s not it. You could’ve done that over the phone.”

He glances away, and I get the impression he’s suddenly nervous.

“Did Langston put you up to this?”

“No. But he knows I’m here.”

“I figured as much.”

His jade green orbs nail me again. But this time, anger darkens them. “Not for the reasons you think.”

“Enlighten me, then.” I try to pull my hand away, but he tightens his hold. His lids squeeze shut briefly, then he pins me again.

“You’re being watched. Even now. Every move you make, from the moment you leave your building to the time you return. Your cars are being followed. They know exactly where you go.”

“Did you have something to do with that little black thing Lydia found on the entrance table in the penthouse?”

“Yes. He made me do it.”

“Kestrel, is he listening to us now?”

“No. Because he didn’t know I had planned on meeting you. Well, that’s not exactly true. He didn’t know but he does by now, because the men watching you will have called him.”

“What will you tell him?”

“That I wanted to let you know how sorry I was about Storm. He’ll buy it because he knows I’m close to Kol. And he knows I cared about that horse too. We all grew up in the stable, riding. He’s a fucking asshole, Gabby.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I know. And you shouldn’t. Ever.”

Whoa.

“You confuse the hell out of me.”

“I know that too. Why do you think my back is to the door? I don’t want them to see what I tell you.”

“So,” I bend my head when I say this, “if what you say is true, then everywhere I go, they report back to your father. Correct?”

“Yes. Everywhere. For instance, he knows you went to NA with your friend Case. He knows you met him in Gramercy Park. He knows
everything
, Gabby. I’m telling you to watch your back. If Kolson is around and you’re meeting him, stop because you will lead my father directly to him.”

“I’m not meeting Kolson and I don’t know where he is. You can tell your dad that.”

A rueful smile appears on his face. “I’m not meeting you to convey anything to my dad. I’m sincere in wanting you to know how sorry I am over my father’s reprehensible actions.”

“That word doesn’t come close. He’s sick, Kestrel.”

“How much do you know?”

“About what?”

“Him? The dragon?”

“I’m not following.”

“Kolson never told you, did he?”

“No.”

“There’s a reason we call him the dragon. He is a monster of the worst kind.”

I’m angry now. So angry. I’m tired of hearing how horrible this man is. All the evidence points to that, but no one will tell me what he’s done.

“I’m sick to death of hearing about this dragon crap! Tell me what he did. Kolson would never speak of it.”

He’s torn. And my harsh tone has done nothing to open him up. I fear I’ve only thickened the wall between us.

The waiter interrupts us to refill our coffee cups. When he leaves, the silence is tangible. They say the first one to speak always loses. I guess I’m the loser because I’m tired of waiting.

“I know it’s useless. I always felt helpless with Kolson when it came to Langston and I feel it with you.” My voice sounds heavy. These past weeks have taken a toll.

 

“It’s hard to discuss something when you can hardly stand to think of it. Does that make sense?”

“Kestrel, you’re talking to someone who was molested, repeatedly, by her cousin while her parents stood by and did nothing to stop it. Of course it makes sense. I lived that life. Until Kolson.” My tone is irritated and resentful.

“But that’s different.”

“People in glass houses …”

“I know. Do you know he bought us? All of us? He made it look like he adopted us, but that’s not how it went. He would find women in his casinos who had racked up too much debt to pay off and then he would research them. Find ones with young kids. Trade the kids to wipe out their debt. He wanted three sons to carry on his dynasty. He stole us from our mothers. Then he tried to brainwash us. We were little boys.”

His voice is quiet, monotonous, and if I hadn’t been tuned in, I might have missed half of what he told me. I can’t disguise the shock and disgust I feel.

“Jesus.”

“That was only the beginning. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Maybe later.”

“Oh God. All of you?”

He nods, but only slightly.

“I need to get out of here. If I stay too long, those guys out there will wonder what we talked about. Gabby, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just wanted you to know I’m sorry.”

He puts several bills on the table and walks out. I reel with what he’s revealed to me. I’m angry, sad, sick, pained, confused, conflicted … there are so many emotions washing through me, I can’t move. I need to collect myself because when I walk out, those men need to think I’m fine and that Kestrel and I had a nice visit. I suddenly feel very protective of him. Holy shit. What kind of mindfuck is Langston Hart?

Pull it together, Gabby. Stop thinking about this. You need to walk out of here like your normal self.

I paw through my bag in search of my phone and hop online. Recipes always distract me so I go to Pinterest. When I’m levelheaded enough to leave, I walk out the door where Axel is waiting for me. I fiddle with my phone, trying to look busy. I decide I can’t go back to work. My concentration is zapped, so I go home. When I get there, I text Case. I need to talk to someone. He answers right away and then calls me. He lends a sympathetic ear as I dump everything on him.

“I think you may eventually have an in with Kestrel. He wants out,” he says.

“I doubt it. He’s too afraid to do anything. I’m so worried about Kolson, I can’t think straight.”

“I know you are. He’ll show up.”

“Call me if you hear anything.” I end the call.

 

My life is nothing but a never-ending roller coaster. I’m nauseated and I can’t sleep. When will this crap end?

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

Kolson

 

Case says to lay off the bottle, but fuck that. It’s the only thing that numbs me. Storm. He fucking shot Storm. Why didn’t I steal him away from there years ago? The beautiful animal that saved me so many fucking times. I know the answer to that. The dragon would’ve found him and taken him back home since he was the rightful owner. And then he would’ve pressed charges, I’m sure. I want to scream with the agony that shreds me. I must find my way back to Gabriella. I need her so badly right now. My body craves her. But I can’t go to her like this. I’m a wreck. I’ve half a mind to drive out to his fucking compound and shoot his ass … to let him see how it feels. Better yet, lock him in the dark.

I pick up my glass and hurl it across the room, watching it shatter in small shards. Then I pick up another and another until there are no more glasses to throw. That’s what he keeps doing to me—splintering me into nothing but shards. He’ll continue until there’s not anything whole left, unless I find a way to stop him. Hatred envelops me, darkens me, and I don’t want it. I don’t want to feel like this. I need Gabriella’s light. I need to feel her soul.

What am I going to do now? My blood boils with loathing, but I’ll find a way. I have to because now I not only seek vengeance for myself and Gabriella, but I also have to avenge the death of Storm.

Storm gave me my life back, and I will take Langston’s in return.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

Gabriella

 

The bed shifts under his weight as he slips in beside me. I’m not alarmed, even though I should be. It’s been days since I’ve seen him, touched him, smelled him, and tasted him. This isn’t something I should want. I should be shouting at him to get out. My anger troubles me. I’m annoyed with him for leaving the way he did, yet I’m conflicted because I want to pull him into me and soothe him.
Push him away,
my mind screams. Tell him how you feel. I can’t, though. My body yearns for him, betraying me, as it reacts so wickedly. His arm slides around me, pulling me into the curve of his side, and I hear him inhale as he nuzzles my hair. My breath hitches as his hand inches higher and takes a hold of my chin. Lips graze my cheek and I sense something raw about him, about the way he touches me. He’s different now. Edgy, maybe. And sad.

Nudging him, I roll over and squirm my way beneath him and then grab his face with both hands. In the dim light, that’s when I notice how much of its fullness is gone. It’s all angles and shadows. My hands slide to his body, reaching for the beauty and symmetry I know I’ll find. Unyielding steel is what my hands discover instead. Hot and smooth, but again, all softness has vanished. Not that he was ever truly soft, but now …the change is drastic.

He doesn’t give me time to puzzle it out. My shirt is shredded as he growls in my ear. He’s all tongue, lips, and teeth as he sensually assaults me, spiking my desire. My anger is forgotten as lust fills my veins. I reach for him, aching to feel his cock in my hand. He violently shoves my hands away but doesn’t speak as he continues to invade my body with his tongue. When he gets to my sex, I cry out his name, which spurs him on. He spreads my legs further and drives his tongue deep into my tunnel, then circles my clit as he slips first one, then another finger inside me. My orgasm approaches and when he doesn’t stop, I clench his fingers with my muscles as I come all over his hand and mouth.

When my spasms pass, he climbs on top so he’s positioned for me to suck him off. I gladly give him what he wants. He tastes like nothing I’ve ever had and, oh, how I’ve missed this. He’s hesitant at first but I hook my arms around his thighs and pull him into me, sending his cock straight to the back of my throat. I moan and that tiny vibration sets off a series of deep groans. That sound, that only he can make, is a near orgasm in itself. I double my efforts just to keep hearing it. His sac weighs heavy in my hand and I squeeze it exactly like he loves it, pressing my finger on the place directly behind it. I can tell he’s close by the way he tenses when he pulls out with a vicious jerk. He scoots down, and still straddling me, he teases my clit with his cock. Around and around, up and down, but then he stops, grabs my arm, and pulls me up so we’re face to face.

“Put your arms around my neck and don’t let go.” Those are the only words he’s spoken to me thus far, and they make my weak hold on the tears I’ve been forcing back loosen. They bubble past my lids and leak down my cheeks as he enters me with an aching, unhurried pace.

His tongue catches the glistening drops as he slowly pulses back and forth, back and forth, and heat burgeons within me, setting me on fire. I’m full, he’s so deep, kissing me where no man has, and I’m reeling with emotions.

“Don’t,” he murmurs as he licks my tears again. The last thing I want to do is break down in front of him, but he’s making it damned difficult.

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