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  Crawling on my hands and knees, I reach for something, anything, and my hand comes in contact with a knife I dropped this morning. I grip it and sit in the same spot until I can think straight again. Until my mind calms enough for me to realize I’m fine, and that I can move to turn on a light. That this time the darkness won’t consume me. Flashbacks try to resurface in my mind and my hands automatically go to my belly, touching it.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.” I clap my hands and every light in the apartment turns on simultaneously, surrounding me in bright, white light. My breathing starts to even out again as I reach for my phone, seeing I have a missed call from my daddy.

  “Baby,” he says when I call him back.

  I want to break down—I should break down, but I won’t. That would just prove to him I should be home instead of living my own life the way I want to, the way I need to.

  “Papa.” I look to the time and see it’s late.

  “I’ve been calling and calling with no answer.” Actually, we’re ahead in this time zone, so it’s not as late for him as it is for me.

  “I was working and just got home,” I tell him.

  Dad huffs into the phone. “I wish you would stop that nonsense and come home where you belong.”

  “I’m where I belong right now, Daddy.”

  “Fine. I just want to make sure you’re fine. Do you need any money?”

  “No—”

  But before I can finish, he’s already talking. “I just transferred you some more.”

  I groan at him, but he doesn’t care.

  “If you plan to live this silly life to show us you’re an adult now, you have done so. Now it’s time to come back home.”

  “No.”

  “Olympia Cavanagh,” he says my full name.

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “You’re going to give your old man a heart attack.”

  I laugh. “That’s not possible.” I almost forget what happened while I’m speaking with him, almost. “You’re way too young and fit for a heart attack.” He is, he looks damn good for his age.

  His laughter on the other end of the phone sends me to a happy place. “You wait until you have a daughter, then you’ll understand what it’s like when she disobeys you at every turn…” He pauses. I brush off his comment, choosing not to react to it.

  “I don’t disobey you at every turn, I just refuse to live my life the way you and Barren do.”

  “Speaking of… call your brother. Tomorrow, though, he will be asleep right now.”

  “I will.”

  “Goodnight, baby.”

  “Goodnight, Papa.”

  His views of the way a woman should be and her place are not the same as mine. Hell, they’re most likely the same as women living in the 1920’s, but despite all that, I love him so much, and I’m extremely thankful for him. Even if he wants to lock me in the house so I can never escape, and that’s just not going to happen.

  7

  Darby

  My hands come down fast and hard. He whimpers at me and tries to push me away. That shit isn’t working, I will fuck his shit up. Blood covers my knuckles, more than likely a mixture of his and mine.

  Who the fuck knows, who the fuck cares?

  One punch—for sneaking around in my club.

  Two—for scaring Olympia, which he clearly did.

  Three—for touching her.

  Then the rest—the rest is because he shouldn’t be here.

  Poor fucking guy or not, I don’t give a rat’s ass.

  “D, step back now.” Falcon’s behind me. His hand touches my shoulder, pulling me from the fog I was just in.

  I stare down at my hands then to the man who was sneaking around. Oh fuck! Even thinking about it makes my blood boil all over again, and I want to continue to hurt him.

  “Did he see anything?” Falcon asks, checking around to see if anything is out of place.

  “No.”

  “Okay, good, leave him then.”

  I swing around to face him. “He tried to get to Olympia, then he touched her.”

  Falcon’s shaking his head. He points to one of the cameras in the corner that only we know about.

  “He didn’t, she kneed him before he could. Now go the fuck home to your son.”

  Shit! My son.

  My hands are covered in blood—they can’t touch someone so pure, so innocent, so not stained by all the fucked-up shit in this world. It wouldn’t be right for him to have to touch me.

  Falcon opens a bottle of water and starts to pour it over my hands. “Is it her or you?”

  I guess he’s asking me why I got so worked up. We’ve had strangers hanging around before, and not once have I beat them to a bloody pulp.

  “Both, but mainly me.”

  “You need to get laid.” He whistles, throwing the bottle into the bin, then walks past me to his own car.

  He’s right, I do need to get laid.

  “Creed will be here in ten to move him, so when the asshole wakes he won’t wake here, around the club. Get home.” Falcon nods his head to me and takes off.

  I do the same, going straight home to see Ma asleep on the couch, and Charles in his own cot through the monitor which is sitting next to her. I touch her shoulder and she wakes. Without a word, she starts to leave.

  “My father will be here in a few days.”

  She reaches for her jacket, slides it on, and then opens the door. When she turns back to me, she has a smile on her face. “I haven’t seen that man for years. I bet he was happy when you told him?”

  I don’t answer, she knows how he is. He doesn’t get emotional, he’s a man where everything’s turned off. Why change now?

  “Goodnight, Darby.” She closes the door behind her and leaves me in a quiet apartment yet again.

  “I’m not coming in today.” I scowl as I talk over the phone in a video chat with Echo. His blond hair needs to be cut and pushed out of his face.

  “You have to, you have no choice. We have video conference meetings, and I can’t do them all myself,” he groans.

  “I have Charles.”

  He shakes his head. “He’s a baby. He sleeps. Bring him and hurry the fuck up.” He disconnects the call.

  Charles makes a sound that almost resembles laughter, and I smile at him, kissing the top of his head while I get his diaper bag ready for the car. He’s the best little man, his hair is almost the same color as mine, though his is a little lighter to my darker blond. His eyes, they’re all Cleo. She’s someone I haven’t thought about, or more accurately tried not to think about. What am I meant to tell him when he gets bigger? How? That’s the better question. I wouldn’t know where to begin. I didn’t know Cleo long enough or well enough for me to tell him what she was like. She had a baby with a stranger because that’s all she ever wanted even if it cost her her life. Who does that?

  Shutting the door behind me, I take Charles into work. I groan when I see Olympia’s car parked out the front as I pull Charles out from his seat, ready to go into work. He starts fussing because it’s his bottle time, and I try to calm him by rocking him, but none of it works. He screams the whole way until I’m inside and walking to the office doors. A flash of blue steps in front of me and reaches for Charles, lifting him from my arms. Then she begins to sing, and Charles instantly calms down in her arms.

  It makes me angry. Angry that he doesn’t do that for me, and not even for Ma. But in her arms, his eyes are wide as he stares up at Olympia and her beautiful voice. Yes, beautiful. Why she works here with a voice like that I will never know.

  She pauses and looks to me. “Now’s the time to escape for the bottle,” she says then checks Charles and resumes singing. I don’t even know what it is she’s singing, but I love it, really love it. It’s deep, and I want to play it on repeat while listening to her voice. Walking away, I leave him in her arms as I step behind the bar and heat up his bottle, my eyes on them the whole time. I’m not moving, not wanting to move, it’s
hypnotizing and I don’t like it. I don’t like that she has him in her arms, and I don’t like that I let her take him from me. He. Is. Mine. Who the fuck does she think she is?

  Grabbing the heated bottle, I walk back to her and snatch my son from her arms. She stops singing, and then Charles starts screaming as I walk away with the bottle and a screaming baby up the stairs and straight into my office. I give him the bottle, and he goes quiet instantly.

  My door is pushed open with a loud bang as it hits back against the wall. “You’re late,” Echo complains, shaking his head. He hands me the work phone then sits opposite me. “Why are you scowling?”

  I look down to where I know Olympia will be. I keep forgetting she arrives early, all the fucking time.

  “You crushing on the bartender, too?”

  “Too?” My head whips to him, and he chuckles.

  “I was referring to how Creed did with El.”

  “She’s temporary,” I say.

  Echo nods. “Sure she is.”

  Just then, a small knock comes on the door. Olympia peeks in at Charles in my arms having his bottle.

  “Olympia, come in.”

  Her hands are bunched together at her front as she steps into the office. “I wanted to thank you for last night,” she grits out through her teeth.

  “Well...” Echo laughs in his seat, already knowing what happened. He would have seen it all through the cameras since that’s his department.

  Her head snaps to Echo, and she scowls before looking back to me. “I can care for the baby if you want.” This time it’s me who scowls. She notices and shakes her head. “It was only an offer. No harm, no foul.” She turns to leave.

  “Wait,” Echo says.

  I look to Echo, ready to pummel him.

  “We do need you. Maybe just for five minutes.” He stands and walks to Charles and me. “I’ll put her in my office, and you can turn that nanny-cam thing on and watch her.” He reaches for the nanny-cam too, but I hold Charles closer to me.

  “You know how to look after a baby?”

  Olympia nods her head with a small smile touching her lips. I stand as Echo hands her the nanny-cam, and as I kiss Charles’s head as I hand him to her. “You don’t need me to warn you, do you?”

  She touches Charles forehead, dragging her finger down his little nose. He smiles up at her, and I’m fucking instantly jealous. So fucking jealous she’s getting those smiles from my boy.

  “You will hunt me down, chop me to pieces, and then kill me slowly. I got it, big man.” She turns with Charles in her arms, and Echo switches the cam on in my office, and her voice starts to float through the air as she begins to sing to him again.

  “Someone’s fucking you up. Do you want her?”

  I look to her now seated in Echo’s office with a happy Charles in her lap as she plays with his hands and continues to sing. “No.”

  He laughs, not believing me. “You do, and it’s funny. Does it feel weird to want someone other than a one-night stand?”

  I whip my head to him. “You would know all about wanting the wrong woman, wouldn’t you.” He doesn’t take my dig. “How many is it that you’ve loved?” He shakes his head. “The first one was a real score, wasn’t she? Fucked your brother.” I look back to the cam.

  “Are you done berating me now?”

  I nod my head.

  “Just fuck her already.” He laughs then hands me the phone. “Stop staring at the help and fuck her. Then maybe, please, can we get some fucking work done? I would like to go home sometime soon to fuck mine.” He winks and I know he’s telling the truth. He really doesn’t want to be here either. This meeting better go fast because as I turn the volume down on her voice, it pains me to do so. That’s a new feeling for me because most people’s voices piss me off all the damn time.

  Yet hers, I can’t turn away from, and it’s like a train wreck waiting to happen.

  8

  Olympia

  He’s so precious, the most beautiful little human on the planet. I can’t get enough of him and his beautiful piercing blue eyes, especially when he offers me that dazzling smile as I sing to him. Charles’s father, on the other hand, now that’s a completely different story. He’s one hundred percent an ass with a capital A. But it’s a biteable ass. Yes, I’ve looked. How could I not? He has one of those asses you just can’t look away from. Fuck, he has the whole package you can’t just turn away from.

  Charles is asleep in my arms when Darby walks in to collect him. My voice stops in my mouth as I see him leaning against the door, simply watching us. My eyes rake him over, knowing he can’t do anything about it right now as I have his baby in my arms. I wonder where Charles’s mother is. Why isn’t she here holding and singing to this beautiful angel? If I had a child as perfect as Charles, I know I wouldn’t let him out of my sight. Just like Darby has trouble letting Charles out of his sight.

  “Do you have kids?” he asks.

  He’s tall. So fucking tall, those legs go on forever in his smart suit pants. And oh my God, those kissable features. For example, his hands—can hands be kissable? I’m sure they can. Goddamn the way he laces them together is such a turn on—those big, strong fucking hands and the things I know they could do to my body. And don’t even get me started on how hard and fit he appears. Then my eyes travel up on their quest to his lips, with the perfect cupid’s bow that I want to trace my tongue around.

  “Olympia,” he says again from those lips, the ones I’ve been thinking about doing all sorts of things to my body, reminding me I haven’t answered him, yet. I look up to his eyes that glisten when he speaks—they remind me of chocolate, not just ordinary chocolate but the dark type.

  Finally, I get my senses back and answer, “No. No kids.” I keep hold of Charles as Darby steps into the room and toward me holding his sleeping son. He reaches for him, and I reluctantly hand him back. He turns to walk out, and what he says shocks me so much that I stay seated longer than I should have.

  “You have the voice of an angel.”

  The smile stays even when I go back to work, I can’t seem to wipe it off my face.

  I don’t have many friends here. Johnny, I met in school just before I dropped out and decided I didn’t want to complete my course anymore. Other than him, I’m very much a loner. Unless I went back home, which I don’t plan to do anytime soon, that’s for sure. So, my days are spent with me doing nothing, and my nights when I don’t work are spent in my own company—you guessed it, doing nothing as well. I’m really winning at this city life. Not. My father would want me home in a second if he knew, but I will never tell him what’s going on in my life.

  “What’re your plans tonight?” These words come from Storm. I’ve spoken to her a few times briefly, and she’s always so nice. I shrug one shoulder as the boys all walk out not long after I’ve closed up. I should have been gone by now, but I was listening to a voice message from my brother on how I should come home to look after the house and that Papa needs me. It makes me so angry that I had to close my eyes and try to calm myself down, then the door shut and Storm walked out, and here we stand.

  “Go home,” I say.

  She turns her head to where they’re all talking in hushed whispers then turns back to me smiling. “You should come with us. We’re going to have some drinks since it’s their early night.”

  It is—Mondays they close earlier than every other day. I was disappointed when I realized it was Monday, because it means I have to go home and sit by myself.

  I look over Storm’s shoulder to where Darby’s leaning on the car as he listens to what the others have to say. His eyes are on me, though, and his stare is so mean, so fierce, it causes his face to scrunch up while his hard eyes almost hurt me, so much so that I have to look away.

  “I’m good.” I turn to open my car when she touches me.

  “Ignore him. Echo told me he’s being an ass to you. Forget him. He’s an ass to everyone.” She smiles and somehow it makes me feel better.
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  “I probably shouldn’t.”

  “No. You probably should,” Darby says stepping up. He looks to Storm who just crosses her arms over her chest before she gazes back to me with an eye roll.

  “Well then, I just might.”

  Storm claps her hands at my words, and Darby’s face hardens even more. How the fuck that’s possible I don’t even know—he’s going to end up with a permanent scowl etched on his gorgeous face if he’s not careful.

  Echo comes over and wraps his arms around Storm’s middle. “What’s going on?”

  “Olympia is going to come for some drinks with us.” I like her excitement, even if the person next to her is shooting me daggers with all his might, and they’re hitting with so much precision I can almost feel the associated pain.

  “Sounds… fun,” I say. Storm reaches for me, pulls me to her and starts to walk.

  “We can quickly stop at our places before we meet them.” She waves them off as we get into her car, leaving mine at work.

  “This is your place?” Storm asks as she looks around.

  I cringe at her words. “Yeah.”

  “You’re rich.”

  I shake my head at her statement. “I’m not, I swear.”

  “Hey, no judgment here, but why do you work for the club if you can afford this place?”

  My apartment is the penthouse suite, and it’s just as you’d imagine it would be. Beautiful. As you walk in, there’s white marble on the floors which lead through to an opulent open-plan area. On the far wall, there’s a large fireplace surrounded by dark wood tones. In the center of the room hangs a gorgeous light fitting, one I wanted right from the start. With its silver accents and dangling lights, it makes the room sparkle. The sofas are white, but I have colorful scatter cushions setting off the area. Floor-to-ceiling windows are on three of the four walls, which overlook the city. During the night it’s like Christmas with all the fairy lights of the city lit up and the sparkling off the lake in the distance. I love it, and sometimes I simply sit in the dark taking in the cityscape.