BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) (50 page)

“Was the Leer part of what my mother received?” 

“Yes.  The Leer and the house here in the city, which she sold after you bought your house.  That was about it for her.”

“Why did you keep saying ‘about’?”  Namir asked. 

Mr. Breslow flicked his eyes to Namir like he was an annoying insect.  “I had fees.”

Taylor shook her head.  “I don’t understand.” 

“Which part?”

“The estate.  My mother told me all the money was tied up in real estate, stocks, whatever.  She said there was hardly any cash.” 

The man laughed throwing his head back as he did so.  “Oh Constantine is a piece of work, isn’t she?”  He rubbed at the corners of his eyes, his lips still trembling with laughter.  “No, sweetie, it was tied up for her because there wasn’t any for her!  Not cash anyway.”  The laughter started again and he slapped the desk.  “She has money of her own, although not as much as you…not by a long shot.”  He sobered slightly before continuing.  “See you are worth that amount, but you do have part of it tied up.  Your portion of your father’s estate won’t be released to you until your twenty first birthday.  He looked at his calendar and smiled.  “Which is in three weeks!” 

Taylor shook her head.  “I’m so stupid.” 

“Didn’t Jason or Constantine explain this to you?” 

“No, and I was too stupid to ask.” 

His face softened again.  Namir could see it was legitimate.  “Maybe it was a little stupid, but now you know.” 

“I want to handle my finances alone now.  No one has access, not Jason and not my mother.”  She paused and glanced at Namir.  “If for some reason you can’t reach me…or I’m unable to handle…”  She stopped and looked flustered.  “Namir is the only other person I now trust with my finances.”  

Namir swung his head around, his eyes wide.  Mr. Breslow had a similar expression. 

“Now, Taylor!  You need to re-consider!  How well do you know him?”

“I know that he’s the one protecting me.  He would lay his life down for me.  Therefore, I trust him above all others.”  She looked at Namir, then back to Mr. Breslow.  “Who is in charge of my father’s portion for the next three weeks?” 

“Constantine.” 

“If…if I were to die before my twenty first birthday, who gets that money?”

“Constantine.” 

Namir slid to the edge of his seat.  Taylor swallowed before asking her final question.  “Exactly how much of that figure you showed me will officially become mine on my birthday?” 

Mr. Breslow didn’t bother writing it down, he simply said it out loud.  “24 million dollars.” 

Taylor was quiet on the way back to her Hampton’s home.  Namir was lost in his own thoughts, and none of them good. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

Taylor kept her eyes pinned on the passing scenery through her passenger window.  “I’m thinking that it’s all a strange coincidence.” 

“Yeah.” 

Taylor looked at him briefly.  His strong profile was stern as he watched the road ahead and occasionally checked the mirrors.  “What do you think?”

He hesitated, not wanting to exasperate the situation she was already in, yet unwilling to pretend that it wasn’t a strange coincidence.  “I think we need to be more careful for sure.  I’m not sure your mother or Jason would be capable of a farce like the stalker, or capable of hurting you.” 

“She is.” 

The statement was so plain, so brutally honest in its simplicity, that Namir checked the mirrors and pulled her car to the curb.  He cut the motor and twisted in his seat.   His eyes were dark and intense as he looked at her. 

“Taylor, you have to be absolutely certain before we can do anything about it.” 

“It’s a lot of money.  Why has she been so secretive?  Why has Jason?  I mean he makes a ton of money off of me as it is!  I just don’t know.” 

“Are you going to talk to her?” 

Taylor shook her head.  “All I’m going to tell them is that my finances are now off limits.  I’ll explain that I’m handling it on my own now.”

Namir started the engine and pulled back onto the road.  He could feel something brewing.  It was an innate ability he had, that had intensified after his first shift when he was thirteen years old.  Something wasn’t right, and it didn’t just have to do with their visit to Mr. Breslow. 

As it was, Taylor didn’t have to explain anything to her mother.  Constantine was in a frenzy when they walked in through the interior garage door.  Jason was there as well looking uncomfortable.  Namir had no doubt that she had called him, demanding he come over. 

Constantine leaned her weight on a stiff stretched arm on the counter island.  Her red hair was pulled up in a loose bun with artificial curls spilling onto the top of her head.  Her red lipstick made an angry slash across her pinched face.  Jason was casually nursing a drink at the kitchen table. 

“Just who in the hell do you think you are?”  Constantine demanded, as soon as they walked in. 

Taylor looked at her mother coolly.  “I assume Mr. Breslow phoned?” 

“You’re damn right he did!  Why would you go to see him in the first place?” 

Taylor slammed her purse onto the opposite end of the island.  “It’s my money!  I shouldn’t have to answer to you about it!”  She looked at her mother with more anger than Namir had seen before, and she shot Jason a dirty look to boot.  “When were the two of you going to tell me about the trust fund that my father left for me?  I turn twenty-one in three weeks!”  She held up three fingers. 

“Sweetheart, there was no reason to bog your youth down with financial troubles.”  Jason said smoothly.  “Your mother and I decided, after your father died, that we would handle it until your twenty-first birthday.”

Taylor drug her purse off the island.  “If I make it to my birthday, right?”

Jason’s face was horrified.  “My God, Taylor, what are you implying?” 

Constantine laughed mirthlessly and grinned.  “She’s saying we would harm her to get to her money.”

Taylor stood next to Namir.  “I’ve named Namir as the only one, other than me, who can discuss anything with Mr. Breslow, and since he was so tactless as to call and tell my business, perhaps I’ll find another accountant/lawyer.” 

“Oh we already know about Namir.”  Constantine said, walking slowly towards Taylor.

There was a dangerous edge to her voice that Namir didn’t like.  Constantine was turning out to be far more complex than he had originally thought. 

“What are you going to do, Mother?”  Taylor stared her down.  “Are you going to wash my mouth out with soap?  Slap my hands with a fly swatter until they bleed?  Or maybe…”  She said looking upwards with a finger laid on her cheek.  “You’ll become so enraged that you’ll throw me down a flight of stairs and say that I tripped.” 

Jason choked on his drink, spewing it across the kitchen table.  “What?”  Liquid dribbled from his parted lips and down his chin.  “She…”  He pointed at Constantine.  “She fell down the steps when she was ten!  I remember!  That child had fourteen stitches in her head!”  He thumped his own head for emphasis.  His voice shook.  “She spent two days in the hospital!  You and Tony were…nearly devastated.” 

Constantine never looked at him once.  She kept her eyes on Taylor.  “She’s lying.” 

“Am I?” 

Namir took Taylor by the hand and directed her out of the room.  He glanced at Jason once, and saw that the man looked honestly mortified. 

Greta met them at the top of the steps, her face ashen.  It was obvious she had over heard.  She touched Taylor on the cheek and handed her Lancelot. 

Namir took Taylor into her room and locked the door.  He kept his hand on the door knob and spoke without turning around.  “Please, tell me that was made up.” 

“It wasn’t.” 

He turned with force and came to the bed, kneeling beside her and Lancelot.  Lancelot licked his knuckles as Namir placed his hands on her thighs.  “Taylor, she can’t stay here.” 

“I’ve dealt with my memories for a long time, and honestly, the other day when she slapped me, that was the first time in a long time that she has done anything like that.”

Namir searched her face.  “Did your father know?”

“I don’t think so.  I hope not anyway.  That would make him guilty too.”

Namir shook his head.  “I don’t think Jason had a clue, but you never know, I guess.” 

“He’s seen her slap me a couple of times, but to him that’s just the wealthy’s way of fighting.” 

“It’s not right.” 

“No.”  She said sadly.  “It isn’t, but she’s my mother, and she is what she is.  I can’t change that.”

“She abused you.”  Namir said coldly. 

“I can’t change that either.” 

Her face was empty.  It was the only way Namir could describe it to himself.  It was empty and he wanted to fill it with something.  Anything.

Namir licked his lips and moved his weight onto his knees.  Taylor sat still and watched him, not resisting as he gently moved her knees so that he could come closer to her.  He brushed loose hairs from the sides of her face, his large hands moving over her skin in a deliberate movement.  He moved one hand to the back of her head, and the other to her waist. 

Taylor felt the tremor go across her belly as his hand gently gripped her waist.  Her head was being pulled slowly towards his face.  When his lips touched hers it was feather soft, like he was afraid he would hurt her.  Taylor made sure he understood that he wouldn’t by leaning into the kiss harder. 

Breath escaped Namir’s lips with force as she broke the kiss.  Namir was afraid he had crossed a line. 

Lancelot looked at them curiously with his head to one side and his pink tongue sticking out.  Taylor grinned and motioned towards him with her head.

“He’s wondering what in the heck we’re doing.” 

Namir grinned too, relieved she wasn’t angry. 

Taylor looked at him, blushing but smiling.  “Wow, Namir, why haven’t you done that before?” 

He stood and held a hand out to help her to her feet.  “I’ll make sure I repeat it more often.”  His legs were shaking, and there was a throbbing in his groin, but he felt a surge of something powerful going through him as well.  Something not sexual.   

Taylor hooked Lancelot’s leash onto his collar, brushing against Namir as she reached for the dog.  He breathed in deeply, careful to do it slowly so she wouldn’t know what he was doing.  He loved the scent she wore today: rose with honey.  Underlying that was a natural earthy floral smell.  When he had first noticed it on her, it made him think of a flower bed after a spring rain.

Namir awoke the next morning near dawn, tired after a night of tossing and turning.  Every sound, large or small, had woken him.  Constantine had thankfully taken to her rooms for the evening, complaining to Great of a headache and nausea.  Namir hoped her maladies were caused by regret and conscious, but he suspected that it was due to the craving of sympathy and drama. 

Namir smiled as he remembered playing poker for pennies and nickels at the kitchen table with Great and Taylor.  Greta had kicked their butts.

Jason had walked around like he was on egg shells, looking at everyone sheepishly, until Taylor had finally patted him on the back and told him that she didn’t blame him for anything.  Namir wasn’t so sure he felt the same way.    

Jason had stayed the night and proceeded to get sloppy drunk, singing Christmas carols to them as they played.  After the third song, Taylor had reminded him it wasn’t even Halloween yet. 

“Doesn’t your wife miss you?”  She had asked while looking at the cards in her hands. 

“My wife is leaving me.”  He announced with little emotion.  “Actually, she’s throwing me out.” 

Everyone stopped and looked at him.  He shrugged, and made a pouty face.  “Oh, she’ll make a killing on child support and alimony, but I’ll survive.”  Just as suddenly as he had pouted, he grinned and broke into the Gloria Gaynor song, just to prove his point.

Namir showered quickly and checked the monitors in his bedroom.  He wanted to take Taylor and Greta out for breakfast somewhere nice since it was Saturday, but all thoughts of food left his mind as he stared at the image of the front gate sitting open.  He checked the other camera angles and saw that the house was quiet, and there was no movement in the backyard or along the sides of the house.  The garage was also dark and empty of any people. 

He opened up the camera pointing at the gate so he could see it on the entire screen.  He saw a rather thick paper laying in the driveway, just where the gate was sitting open.  He knew they received a paper, and it might be thicker on the weekends, but usually it was left in the paper box. 

Namir listened at Taylor’s door.  He didn’t hear a sound.  He walked to Constantine’s doors, but all he heard from there was a light snoring.  He tried the door, and was surprised that it opened.  He stuck his head in, amazed at the size and splendor of the room.  Against the far wall was a king sized bed on six inch platform.  Constantine moved her head, and Namir saw that she had on burgundy sleep blinds, even though the room was nearly dark due to the heavy drapes.  Jason was lying face down beside her, still in his clothes, snoring softly.