Manacle (MC Sinners Next Generation #3) Page 4

  Mansion comes close.

  I’ve never seen something so big in my life and it scares the hell out of me. I grew up in a decent-sized home, but this? I have no doubt this makes everyone in Denver nervous. I couldn’t even begin to count the rooms in this place, let alone the pools, gaming areas, kitchens, bathrooms and tennis courts. Let’s not forget the gardens.

  Preston had said his family was wealthy.

  He wasn’t lying.

  “Are you okay?” Preston asks, leaning in and gently taking my arm.

  “Just slightly overwhelmed,” I admit.

  “Is this too much, too soon?” he asks and I catch a hint of cockiness in his voice. I guess if this was mine I’d show it off, too.

  “No, of course not. I’ve just never seen such a beautiful home. It’s incredible.”

  “My parents have worked hard for this.”

  The way he says it sounds as though he’s insinuating that the rest of the world don’t work hard enough, but that if they did, they could have the same. That annoys me, but I could be taking it wrong because I’m so uncomfortable after only being in his home for a short time.

  “I don’t doubt it,” I say. “I need some fresh air; do you mind?”

  “Of course. I’ll take you into the garden.” He hooks his arm through mine and we exit the massive home through a beautiful pair of French doors off of the main ballroom. I feel like royalty leaving, all eyes on me. I shift uncomfortably and keep my eyes straight ahead. If I don’t make eye contact, perhaps they won’t try and talk to me only to find out I’m some poor peasant girl who really doesn’t fit in here.

  The gardens are as overwhelming as the house, with giant sculpted shrubs and water fountains. Preston leads me into a gorgeous gazebo with fantastic lighting that would make any bride get on her knees and beg for the chance to have her wedding day pictures taken in it. We sit on a stone bench and I turn towards him. He’s smiling at me, genuinely happy.

  Preston could be what I want. He could show me the world.

  So why do I feel so uncomfortable?

  I’m probably just being childish because I’m not used to it, so I plaster on my own smile and take his hand. “Thank you for including me tonight.”

  “No problem; I’m glad you came. Tell me some more about yourself, Skye.”

  I look down at our hands. “You probably wouldn’t want me here if you knew more about me. My life is very, very different to yours.”

  “I’m fascinated to know.”

  I study him and he looks genuine. Well, if he is as into me as he claims, then he’ll find out about me eventually and be okay with it. Now is as good as ever to test those waters.

  “I was raised with bikers.”

  His face doesn’t change for a second, and then he blinks. I can see him struggling to gather himself, but slowly, a look of pure horror crosses his face before he wipes it clean. “Bikers?” His voice is far less confident than it was before.

  “I told you that you wouldn’t like it.”

  “No, it’s not that,” he says quickly. “I just . . . I’ve never met someone who was raised by bikers. Tell me about it.”

  “It’s not as scary and graphic as you would think. I have a mom and a dad and a crap-load of uncles.” I smile lamely, trying to make a joke.

  He smiles back, equally as lamely.

  “We’re just a family. That’s all.” It is a big fat lie. “No different to yours—well, except for all the fancy things.”

  “And your family, they don’t live here, do they?”

  I shake my head. “No, they don’t. I moved here because I wanted a different life. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but I want to travel and fall in love and do big things. I couldn’t do that there.”

  “That’s a very brave thing for you to decide.”

  I look to him, and my heart softens. “You’re the first person not to criticize me over it.”

  He takes my hand again, gently rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “I think it takes a big person to know what they want but an even bigger one to go after it. If people make you feel like you’re doing the wrong thing, they aren’t worth your time.”

  “No,” I say softly, my heart cracking. “They’re not.”

  “Have you any idea where you’d like to travel?”

  I sigh happily. “Anywhere, to be honest.”

  “I travel a lot in my work. Perhaps one day, I’ll take you with me.”

  I beam. “Really?”

  He winks at me. “Yeah, really. I like you, Skye.”

  “I like you, too.”

  He leans forward and reaches over, taking my face in his hands and bringing me close. “May I kiss you?”

  My heart flutters. “Yes, of course.”

  His lips touch mine and it’s nice. Soft. Gentle. Sophisticated. A memory of Danny’s rough lips moving over mine pops into my head, and my heart sinks a little more. Of course kissing Preston won’t be the same as kissing Danny; they’re two different people. I made a choice. I made a choice to let go. I have to let go. I close my eyes and focus on Preston, moving my lips over his until the kiss becomes more intense.

  A throat clears.

  We both turn to see a stunning couple standing at the entrance to the gazebo. They’re an older couple, and absolutely dripping with elegance. Clearly they have a great deal of money. Preston stands quickly and I do too, noticing his urgency.

  “Mom, Dad,” he says, clearing his throat.

  Mom?

  Dad?

  Crap.

  I smile sheepishly as Preston takes my hand and we move closer to the gorgeous couple.

  “Preston,” his mother says, her voice silky smooth. She looks like a mannequin with her perfect body, blond hair and dazzling blue eyes. “Who is your friend?”

  She doesn’t sound pleased. Perfect.

  “This is Skye. Skye, this is my mother, Ann.”

  “Hello Ann,” I say, stepping closer and extending my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  She looks at my hand a second, then takes it in a flimsy handshake. “You too, dear.”

  Dear. Ugh.

  “And this is my father, Johnson.”

  I look to the man who is rather striking with his dark hair that’s got a sprinkling of grey. He has green eyes and olive skin. I have no doubt in his day he gathered a good amount of female attention. My guess is that he’s a little younger than Ann.

  “Hello Johnson.” I smile, extending my hand to him.

  “Hello Skye.” He smiles back, showing two perfect dimples. “Welcome to our home. You look lovely.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Skye and I have been seeing each other a little,” Preston says.

  “Wonderful,” Johnson says, his eyes flickering to Preston then back to me. “What is it you do, Skye?”

  “Currently I’m just working to earn some money, but ultimately I’d like to travel.”

  “You don’t go to college?” Ann asks.

  “I think that ship has sailed, but it’s still an option.”

  “Travelling is worth the expense,” Johnson adds, giving his wife a look.

  “What about your family?” Ann adds. “That’s a lovely dress; it wouldn’t have been cheap.”

  What’s she getting at?

  “Her family are quite well off,” Preston adds before I can open my mouth.

  My stomach drops, but I say nothing, I’m too shocked to even contemplate opening my mouth.

  “Oh really? You’ll have to tell me more about it later, dear.” Ann says, looking pleased. “We’ll be on our way—there are so many guests to meet. We’ll see you two inside.”

  They disappear, and I spin on Preston. “Why did you do that?”

  He opens his mouth, then closes it.

  “I am who I am, Preston. I don’t attempt to be anything different. If you don’t like that, we’re wasting our time here.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like it,” he says, but I’ve already grabbed m
y purse and am rushing off. “Skye!”

  I disappear around the side of the house and rush to the front, waving down a cab. It goes past me, full of people already. Frustrated, I start making my way down the street. Preston calls my name from somewhere in the distance but I don’t stop to try and let him explain himself. I might not want to be an old lady, but my family is my family and that will never change.

  I won’t apologize for that, not ever.

  I get three blocks away and everything quietens down. Moving to my left, I duck through an alley and come out on a silent street that’s currently quite dark, only a few houses shining light. Preston is less likely to follow me down here. I lean down, undoing my shoes and kicking them off, then I pick them up and start walking. I’m only ten or so blocks from town; I can flag a cab there.

  I need to clear my head.

  ~*~*~*~

  “Come on lovely,” a young man says, following me down the street. “It’ll be fun.”

  I keep walking, my head down, trying to ignore the five guys that came out of a house that was clearly having a massive party. I can only assume they have noticed me in my dress and must have decided I’d be a fun taunt.

  “No thanks,” I mutter. “I’m late.”

  “You’re walkin’ here all alone—you ain’t late for nothing. Come on, we’re having a party. It’ll be awesome.”

  “I’m fine, really.”

  One of them grabs my arm and I stop, glancing at them. They’re giving me serious expressions now and my heart stutters. Fighting wouldn’t work, so I try again, carefully saying, “I really have somewhere to be, but thanks for the offer.”

  “One beer. It’ll be fine.”

  I shake my head, and the man who holds me tightens his fingers around my arm in warning.

  I will never get away from this many men, no way in the world, and if I fight it’ll only anger them. I’m smarter than that, so I force a smile, even though my heart is pounding and vomit is rising in my throat at the realization that this could end very badly if I don’t get myself out of it.

  “You know what?” I say. “I’ve had a shit night; beer would be good.”

  They all smile and my stomach flips. The man holding me grins and pulls me towards the house where the music is blaring. I use my free hand to reach into my phone and slip it out enough so that I can see the screen. My fingers automatically start to scroll for Danny. I find his number and dial, praying that he’ll answer because if he doesn’t, I’m screwed. I let the phone slide back into my purse, hoping he’ll hear if he picks up.

  “I can only stay for one,” I say, a little louder than usual.

  “You can stay for more than that, love.”

  “No, really. I have to be getting home.”

  “I said,” the man growls, “you’ll stay for as many as I want you to stay for.”

  God.

  This isn’t good.

  I glance at the number on the letterbox. Thankfully, I noticed the street sign when I was walking. I say the address really loud, and the man walking me stops. “What?”

  “Your address—I think I’ve been here before,” I lie.

  “Trust me, you haven’t, but I promise you won’t forget it.”

  I shiver as I’m dragged up the front stairs and into the house. I try not to notice that the only people in here are men. I shove my hand into my phone and see the screen is blank. Danny either answered or he didn’t. I don’t honestly know.

  “You won’t be needing that,” the man says, snatching the phone from my hands.

  “I’ll need it later to call a cab,” I say, reaching for my phone, trying to be calm but freaking the hell out.

  He grins and I study him. He’s handsome, which is alarming considering there is an evil radiating from his eyes I don’t like. He has dark hair and light brown eyes. He’s tall, lean, and tanned. “You won’t be needing a cab.”

  My skin prickles but I have to keep calm. If he thinks I’m freaking out, God knows what he’ll do.

  “Do you have a bathroom?” I ask.

  “Sit, have a beer.”

  “I need to pee.”

  “I said sit,” he snaps, grabbing my arm and pushing me onto the couch.

  My stomach leaps and I want to vomit. I don’t have a phone; if Danny didn’t answer that call I’m screwed. Even if he did, I’ve got a solid hour or more to wait, and by then it could be too late. I have to distract this guy for long enough to either get out or for someone to help me.

  “What’s your name?” I ask, trying to sound charming and failing.

  “My name doesn’t matter. What’s yours?”

  “Jasmine,” I lie.

  “Well, Jazzy,” he breathes, leaning over and getting way too close, “I can be whoever you want me to be later when you’re screaming my name.”

  I want to vomit.

  “So you don’t have a girlfriend?” I squeak.

  “I don’t need a girlfriend. I get what I want when I want it.”

  God, he does this all the time—I can read it in his expression.

  Someone comes over and hands him a beer, they both grin at each other, and then he hands the red plastic cup to me. “Drink up.”

  It’s drugged. I’m not stupid; I was raised with bikers.

  “I’m not thirsty right now.”

  “Drink,” he hisses.

  If I drink that . . .

  He grabs my hair and jerks it back so hard I scream. No one in the room moves. “I said drink,” he barks, shoving the beer against my lips and tipping. The liquid pours down my throat and I choke, spluttering and clawing, trying to get his hands off me.

  The front door swings open and I hear a loud familiar voice. “Let her the fuck go or I’ll blow your motherfuckin’ brains out.”

  The man lets me go and I turn, tears running down my cheeks, to see Danny standing in the doorway, the gun in his hand pointed right at the man holding me. Everyone in the room is paying attention now.

  “Whoa, man,” the guy says as he casually sits down beside me. “I don’t know who you are; I was just havin’ fun.”

  “That girl doesn’t want to have fun. You clearly knew that, because you were forcin’ her to drink. Stand up.”

  “Listen I . . .”

  “Stand up!” Danny roars.

  I flinch, not because of fear but because Danny is so incredibly scary when he’s like this. His eyes meet mine and he says, “Come here, honey.”

  I stand on wobbly legs and move to him. The second I reach his side, his arm hooks round my waist and he pulls me to him. Comfort washes over me and I fight to stand. My knees tremble and my body is numb with relief. He must have been in town. He took my call. Thank God.

  “I didn’t know she was yours!” the guy screams.

  “Wouldn’t matter if she was mine or anyone else’s. You go around druggin’ and rapin’ women for fun, that makes you a dead man.”

  “Please,” he squeaks. “I didn’t . . .”

  Danny turns us. “I’ll be back for you, and I will find you.”

  Then he grabs my purse and phone off the floor and walks us out the door. My knees are trembling, and when we hit the front step I go down. Danny catches me, like he always does, and hauls me back up. “Careful, baby, you’re drugged.”

  Is that what this feeling is? Everything in my body is light and my head is so clear it’s scary. I can’t seem to get control of my limbs. Danny tucks his gun away and scoops me into his arms, my flopping body not helping even slightly as he carries me to his bike.

  “You’re not goin’ to be able to hold on. I’m callin’ your dad.”

  “Danny, no!” I slur. “Please don’t.”

  He studies my face. His yellow eyes look really spectacular tonight.

  “Give me five then.”

  He pulls his phone and dials someone. I barely hear his conversation because my head is lolling to the side as I struggle to keep from passing out. I clutch his jacket and whimper his name. I don’t like this fee
ling spreading through my body—it’s awful. I have zero control, and I’m so close to blacking out it scares me.

  “Danny,” I whimper again. “I can’t . . .”

  “I got you, Skye. Always got you. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

  Those are the last words I hear before I pass out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Reality comes like a shock to my worn-out and tired system. I wake in my bed, the covers wrapped carefully around me, my body positioned on the side. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to clear my vision. It takes a few moments but I know right away that I’m not alone. Danny sits like a tall, dark stranger on my chair in the corner of the room, his elbows on his knees, his eyes on me. I wonder how long he’s been sitting like that?

  “H-h-h-how long was I out?” I croak.

  “Ten hours, give or take.”

  Ten hours? My God.

  “How you feelin’?” he asks.

  I push my body up into sitting position, and my head pounds in protest.

  “Okay,” I croak. “I have a killer headache.”

  “That’ll wear off as the drugs continue to leave your system.”

  I notice a bucket on the floor and towels tossed everywhere. “What?” I breathe, confused.

  “You were out ten hours, but you freaked out and vomited for two hours before you passed out.”

  I flinch. “I . . . freaked out?”

  “Yeah, you freaked out. Drugs didn’t agree with you and you lost your shit, thinkin’ someone was in your house and tryin’ to fight me every time I came close. You’re goin’ to have bruises; I had to hold you still.”

  “Did I hurt you?” I ask, meeting his eyes.

  He shrugs. “Couple a scratches, nothin’ major.”

  “Danny, I’m so sorry . . .”

  “What were you doin’ there, Skye?”

  I reach around and rub my arms, shivering as I recall last night. “I was at a party with a friend and we had a fight so I was walking to get a cab. Those guys saw me and basically gave me no choice but to go inside. I tried to be calm about it but things got out of hand. I didn’t know if you took my call so the entire time I was there . . .” My voice cracks, and I trail off as I recall the fear I felt when I thought Danny might not have answered the phone.