Queen of Hearts (13 page)

“This is about me and your husband? Look, lady,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m sorry if I fucked your husband, but you obviously know who I am and what I do. I don’t ask for resumes or marriage certificates when I entertain clients. That’s not my problem. I don’t go shopping around for these men—they come to me.
He
came to
me
. It’s not my fault your husband can’t keep it holstered!”

The dog went on a full-on barking rampage at my outburst, and thankfully, she put the damn thing down and shooed it off into the house.

My blood was boiling, and my hands shook. The
nerve
of this lady hunting me down. Never, and I mean
never,
had I been approached by a John’s significant other, and I was beyond pissed. More than that, I was slightly freaked that she’d been able to find me, and through Ellie, no less.

“Sweetheart, if you slept with my husband, we have bigger problems. My name is Cherese Maguire. Doyle Maguire is my estranged husband. I believe it’s my son you’re sleeping with.”

I felt like I’d been cold-cocked in the face. My entire body felt warm, and I swayed a little on my feet.

“What did you say?” I whispered in disbelief.

“Come inside, Jayne. Let’s have a little chat, shall we?”

She cocked an eyebrow and swiftly walked away, leaving me standing in the open doorway, gawking at her like a fish out of water.

I followed after her a few seconds later, numb and barely able to move my feet. My arms hung at my sides, and my head felt like it was floating above my body. My fingers tingled and pricked with panicked nerves. There was no telling what was going to happen inside that house. What that woman had to say could easily break me.

She led me through the house toward the back. The rooms were bright, well lit and sunny, and when we reached a sitting room with a colorful atrium, she waved me inside.

The room was pleasant and beautifully decorated with dainty hues of butter yellow and beige. She pointed to a khaki-colored sofa, and I took a seat, still quietly observing her every move.

I didn’t trust her as far as I could throw her.

She took a seat across from me, and her mangy dog took a running leap, landing in her lap.

I tried to avoid her piercing stare. I took in the room instead, admiring the paintings and delicate antique furniture. At the very least, the room was calming, such a vivid contrast to the tensions between the two of us.

I was nervous as hell. My hands continued to shake, so I settled them in my lap and clasped them together to hide the tremors. I didn’t need to give her the satisfaction of watching me freak out. She knew she had the upper hand as it was.

It suddenly occurred me to that it would’ve been a hell of a lot easier had she been a woman scorned. Facing the elusive mother of Flynn was about as awkward as it could get. He didn’t talk about her a whole lot when we were together, but from what he did tell me, she was quite a woman, and he absolutely adored her. I wasn’t sure what to make of her. I didn’t scare easily, but the woman sitting across the room had me ready to pee my pants.

“Don’t be so nervous, Jayne. I haven’t brought you here to do you any harm. Quite the opposite, actually.”

My eyes shot up, and her eyes told me she was giving me the truth.

“Why am I here?” I asked.

“My son is in love with you.”

My eye twitched as she said the words, and I quickly looked away from her. I wasn’t expecting that. When I looked up, she was petting her dog’s head gently and watching me with a careful, calculating eye.

I bit down on the inside of my mouth to contain the words I wanted to spew out and looked away again. I felt like a kid in the principal’s office. I suddenly wanted to admit to crimes I hadn’t even committed just to get away from her and those eyes.

“I’ll admit,” she started. “When he confessed that he was in love with a prostitute, I was less than pleased. I want better for him than this life. I always have.”

Well, that was a punch in the gut that I could’ve done without. Her words stung, admittedly, but I couldn’t blame her for feeling the way she did. She was being truthful, which was more than I could say about her husband—or her son.

“I don’t say these things to be cruel, but honestly, you and I both know you aren’t fit to be what he needs.”

Hearing that didn’t dissolve the initial sting, either. Of course, his mother had every right to judge me in regard to her son. She also probably had no idea what a dirty, dirty son of a bitch he was.

That was my little secret.

“Ah,” I mused, sitting back and smiling as the little tidbit of personal knowledge swam around in my head. “So you still live in double-standard land. I get it—trust me.”

I crossed my legs, folded my arms over my chest, and smiled, feeling Jayne claw herself to the surface to rear her ugly head. It was more than a shield for me, more than a disguise. It was my only ammunition.

“Your son pays women—paid
me
to do filthy, unmentionable things, but
I’m
the problem? Women like you keep women like me in the business, lady. I’m a businesswoman first and foremost. I hold power you couldn’t even imagine having. I control my destiny.
Me.
I
choose
to fuck men for money. I give them only what I am willing to give, and nothing more. If the price isn’t right, I send them walking, wanting what they will never have. You think I should feel inferior to you because of who I am and what I do? Well, I don’t. Women like you get owned, Mrs. Maguire. I’m on the other side of that coin. I am the controller—no one else. So, no. I don’t feel less than you at all.”

“Don’t you?” she asked, sitting forward and setting her dog on the floor.

“No.” I answered adamantly. I’d spent a lot of time figuring my shit out. She had no idea.

Her lips spread and she sat back, crossing her legs at the ankle, drumming her long manicured fingernails on her knee. I was completely confused by the bright smile that graced her features at that moment.

“You’re nothing like what I expected. I’m impressed. I didn’t give my son enough credit, it seems.”

I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Is there a point to all of this, or did you just bring me here to scare me away from Flynn? If so, that’s completely unnecessary.”

She laughed, throwing her head back a little, and her entire body shook. “I don’t think it would do me any good to scare you off, Jayne. My son will do as he pleases. He always has. I wanted to meet you, to see if you were trustworthy. I want to help.”

I cracked my fingers, popping each joint as I took in her words. It was a nasty habit, one I thought I’d long since gotten rid of. When I was little, I did it a lot when I was worried or afraid, especially after my mother died. I was suspicious of the woman in front of me, but too curious to ignore her.

“Being obtuse and vague must run in the family. I don’t speak in riddles, Mrs. Maguire. What is it you want to help me with?”

“Revenge. Vengeance.” She enunciated each word thoroughly, as if she wanted to make sure I understood just how serious she was.

It rang through loud and clear.

My curiosity spiked. “So he is alive.”

She nodded. “Doyle? Yes. He’s still alive, and he won’t stop doing to others what he did to you and your family. He’s hiding, but he’ll come out eventually, even amid the current legal situation he’s found himself tangled up in. He’ll come out from under his rock. He’s too much of a greedy bastard to let his fortune be toyed with, especially not by Flynn.”

Every hair on my head stood on end, and my entire body tensed. In the back of my mind, I’d always known he was alive, but with Flynn being so aloof about the whole thing, I thought possibly he was just dangling the possibility in front of me to keep me in check. I’d hoped he was dead—I wanted him dead. But nothing that evil ever went down that easily.

“Why would you want to help me? What’s in this for you?”

“I hate the bastard,” she seethed. “It’s a very long, very boring story, Jayne, but I need you to know that I mean to help you. Now that I’ve met you, and I’ve confirmed the kind of woman you really are, I want to make things right. Your father didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

Bringing up my father hit that dark, secret place inside of me. I rubbed at my chest bone, the pain settling there like a burning anvil.

“You know the whole story?” I asked, inching forward.

She sighed. “Would you like some tea, Jayne?”

I shook my head, and then immediately nodded, changing my mind. “Actually, if you have something a little stronger, I’d appreciate it.”

She stood, giving her hands a clap. “My kind of girl.”

She walked into the other room, leaving me alone with my thoughts while she fetched our cocktails.

I studied her when she walked back in the room. She had a beautiful profile and moved with the elegance of a ballerina. Refined—that was how she’d be described. She was lovely, and you could tell that at one time, she had been more than beautiful. You could tell that time and misery had done a number on her, though. There was a darkness to her features. Sadness. She had dark, wavy hair, which her son had inherited, and a lithe figure that showed the proof of careful maintenance.

Aside of the dark hair, there wasn’t any other resemblance to Flynn. Her eyes were bright and cold, a searing ocean blue that mirrored the spirit inside of her.

She set down a short crystal glass in front of me and began to pace, clicking the cubes inside of hers as she strode through the room.

“Do you know a woman named Kristine Franklin?”

I startled, surprised by the sound of her voice after the long silence. When I looked up, she turned to face me, tears streaking down her face.

It was unsettling.

I nodded. Kristine Franklin was a few years older than I was, and one of Vince’s top-earning girls. She’d been with him for years and somehow moved into my father’s bed not long after she’d taken up with Vince. It hadn’t lasted long, and I’d never heard what happened to her after that. It was as if she’d disappeared.

It hadn’t mattered to me at the time. My father had a revolving headboard when it came to women. They were disposable, pawns and trinkets. I forced myself not to get attached to them while I was still young. Ellie was the first, and the last one I had any kind of relationship with.

“Kristine is my husband’s mistress. His
whore
. She has been for many, many years.”

I gasped. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Maguire. I don’t know what to say. I haven’t seen or heard of her in a very long time.”

It was the truth. I didn’t know what to say to her. I knew nothing about Kristine, or what the hell she had to do with anything. I barely knew her, period. I don’t think we shared three words the entire length of time she was with my father. I did feel badly for Cherese, honestly.

“She knew what she was doing. She is a very ambitious girl.”

She chuckled, but it was without humor. She was bitter—vengeful to the very core. I felt bad for Kristine, wherever she was. Having Cherese Maguire as an enemy was definitely not on my to-do list.

But I had to admit, she had Kristine nailed. She had been screwing one hundred thousand-dollar clients left and right. I never understood what she was doing with my father. Not only was he over twenty years older than her, but he was a two-bit—hardly equal to the plethora of powerful men she had on a daily basis.

Now, I wondered even more.

“But, you know all about ambition, don’t you?”

Oh God... she was back to being bitter, and armed with liquor, it was anyone’s guess what she’d do or say next. I swallowed down a mouthful of the amber poison she’d filled my glass with and cringed. Thank God it was strong. I was going to need it.

“If you’re implying that I’m trying to ensnare your son to further my ambitions, you’re dead wrong, Mrs. Maguire. I used him, and he used me. Period.”

She huffed. “Do you make a habit of telling your clients that you love them, Miss King?” she snapped.

I scowled and stood to face her. “I don’t. No.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, turning from me and making another lap across the floor.

It was mortifying to watch the woman fall apart in front of me. Her grief was tearing her up.

“Flynn is selfish. Spoiled. That’s partly my fault. He’s my only son, my only child.” She took a shuddering breath and sat back down in the chair she filled earlier. She looked up at me, tears still brimming in her eyes.

“You need to know that what he feels for you is genuine. You’re not a toy to him. I recognize that—especially now. You love him, or at least you did.”

I looked away, too overwhelmed to meet her gaze. Admitting that to her was dangerous. I couldn’t even admit it wholly to myself at that point. She was obviously unstable, and I still had no reason to trust her.

“So, as you now know, I have my reasons to distrust women like you, Jayne. I’ve lived this life for over thirty-five years. Kristine wasn’t the first, but she was the smartest. She managed to take him completely away from me. He discarded me, his son, and his sanity. For her.”

Shaking my head, I squirmed in my seat and crossed my legs again. Did she think I was trying to take Flynn away from her? She confused the fuck out of me.

I was exhausted.

“
She
is the reason your father was murdered. She finally left Doyle, after robbing him blind and turning him over to the Feds. He blamed your father because she’d gone to him, Jayne. She used him for information against Doyle, and in turn, threw him back at the den of wolves to suffer.”

“Jesus,” I hissed. I took another gulp of Scotch and slammed it down on the table before running my fingers through my hair nervously. “None of this makes any sense!”

“Men that crave power the way Doyle does don’t care who they hurt as long as they get what they want, darling.” She took a deep breath and settle back against the chair. “They have to control everything and everyone. Your father knew Doyle was seeing Kristine, and in typical male fashion, it was an all-out pissing contest the night your father put his money on that table and made that bet. Doyle took it as a slap in the face that your father had the audacity to challenge him that way. Not only had he touched what Doyle believed to be his, but Sammy was reckless. Honey, his fate was made before he even drew a card.”