The C Word (Just a Word Book 1) (6 page)

I’m so
focused on keeping my voice down, I shush her.

“Why are we
whispering?”

“Because I’m
following him,” I hiss.

“Oh! Where is
he going? Is this a good idea?”

“I don’t know
and I don’t know.”

“Okay, just
explain to me what happened, how did you find him?”

“He found me.
He came into the bank and the same thing happened again, I almost lost it.”

“So now you’re
following him?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t you
think that’s dangerous?”

“Maybe, I don’t
know, but I need some answers.”

“And how are
you feeling?”

“Valentina,
this is not the time to psychoanalyse me.”

“I mean, how
are you feeling physically jackass. You said you had another episode, what
about now?”

I try to
still my thoughts to see how I’m doing, but everything seems to be on overdrive
right now as on top of it all, adrenaline is surging through me. “I feel on
edge.”

“Sexually
frustrated again?”

“I guess.”

“Like your
beast wants out to play?”

“Yeah.”

“So you want
him?”

He makes a
turn and heads for Green Park. I don’t know what I’m doing following him. It’s
the worst plan ever. I’m not even curious to see where he goes. I just want to
find out what he
wants .
I think.

As he crosses
the road to the park, I’m forced into a position right behind him, his scent
stirs up lust in my confused mind. How can I want him? He terrifies me. I
hardly dare breathe as I follow him through the gates of the park in the crowd
headed down the slope to the tube station.

“Maxi?”
Valentina asks impatiently.

He breaks off
as they all turn a hard right, streaming into the underground. He keeps walking
straight down the path into the heart of the park.

“Yeah, I do,
but it’s not that, it’s more. It’s like being around him brings that side of me
to life.”

“I like him
already.” She giggles.

“Yeah, thanks
for your help.”

It’s busy
; ,
tourists are sitting on the grass and in the many deck
chairs, appreciating the greenery in the dense city. He keeps walking until he
passes through the thick of the crowds and the path becomes quieter. He slows
down, stops and scratches the back of his neck, then I realise, he knows I’m
here.

Of course he
knows, if he is like me, he knew before I took off after him.

“I gotta go,”
I whisper, shutting her off and dropping the phone into my inside breast pocket
before she can object. I loiter behind him, not knowing what to say. I can’t
even bring myself to edge closer. Yes he terrifies me, but not so that I feel
physically threatened. I’ve yet to encounter anything as powerful as me. That’s
not why I’m rooted to the spot. It’s because I want him and the longer I have
my eyes glued to that behind, the worse it gets. But then I’d have to touch him
and I can’t.

“What do you
want?” He sighs heavily.

“Some
answers.”

“I don’t have
any.” He shrugs and then starts walking again. Just when I think I’m probably
going to have to follow him all day, he heads down the dappled pathway between
an avenue of ancient trees and steps up onto the nearest bench. Sitting on the
back edge, he places his feet on the seat and rests his elbows on his knees. I
shake my head, honestly, and Rose thinks I’m a rebel without a cause! Keeping a
safe arm’s length between us I take a seat. The civilised way.

We both stare
into the distance and sit for a while in silence.

“Do you live
around here?” he asks.

Wary of his
motives, but aware he could simply stalk me and find out, I reply, “not too
far. You?”

“Moved here
about a month ago, been doing some gigs in town and moved in with our drummer,
but he’s disgusting and has parties like every night, so a couple of weeks ago
I rented a place of my own, in a nicer area. I like it,” he muses. “But I’ve
been feeling all…off, since I got here. Like this place is messing me up.”

Why is he
telling me this? “Why did you come in to the bank?”

“I don’t
know.” He confesses, a deep frown settling on his face. “I felt, compelled.
That’s the only way I can describe it. I actually have an account there, well,
a trust. I’ve never needed to go in, but I was passing and I just felt like I
should, no clue why. And it happened again. That thing you did last night that
fucked me up.” He turns to me while he’s speaking, accusation in his tone.

“Hey, I didn’t
do anything. It happened to me again too. And compelled is exactly how I felt
going into that pub I had no place in last night.”

“Oh I don’t
know City Boy, you looked ok there to me,” he smirks and then winks.

Seriously?
Flirting? At a time like this? I’m just about to pull him up on it when he
ricochets off in another direction.

“You know not
everyone in your bank is human right?”

What the
fuck? I don’t even know how to respond to that. I guess that confirms for
certain he’s not human. Not that it was in much doubt, especially if we are
handling money for him. It’s more the fact that he convinced my father that
concerns me. It leaves only one real conclusion. At a loss for a suitable
response, the plain ugly truth finds it’s way out of my lips. “Noone in there
is human, actually.”

He glares at
me, “no one?” he asks pointedly.

“No one,” I
confirm. “Including you.”

He tilts his
head on a nod in confirmation and shrugs.

“You had my
father fooled though. You must be something pretty special to go under his
radar.”

He scowls. “Your
father?”

“The man you
spoke to.”

“Interesting.”

Yeah very.
But I don’t feel like enlightening him.

A
companionable silence descends and we both watch activity on the large expanse
of grass through the trees. I don’t know how much time passes, but I relax back
against the bench and cross one leg over the other. T stands up on the bench,
hops down to the floor and drops down into the seat beside me. His legs strewn
casually in front of him and his body angled so that he is lounging rather than
sitting on the rough wooden bench. The absolute contrast to my formal approach
to life, he is ‘fuck it’ personified.

It’s a minute
before he moves again, but when he does, my stomach tightens and panic surges
through me. He moves his hand off his thigh and holds it out to me, palm up. I
stare at it, then look up at him. He is watching me intently, expectantly.

I guess I
want to know as badly as he does if what happened last night was fluke, the
result of some crazy one off supernatural incident. Or if this is something one
of us is really capable of. I lift my hand and hesitate for a few moments,
finally giving in to temptation and carefully placing my hand in his.

I whip it
back almost immediately as a flood of feeling hits me, but I don’t freak out
this time. I look in to his eyes and see that he is just as spooked as I am. My
hand grips my thigh and my fingers twitch at the thought of trying again. But
it’s not a decision I need to make, he reaches over and strokes the back of my
hand with his knuckles.

As I look
down, a stream of what is in his head, fills mine. It’s not anything I can
really pin down, there is too much and it’s a chaotic jumble, but then, he
hooks his index finger under my little finger and takes a deep breath…and it
all falls silent. I look back up to his eyes. Both of them, since he isn’t
hiding behind his hair today. He sucks one of his lip rings in to his mouth and
catches it with his teeth, then he speaks. But his lips don’t move.

“Has this happened to you before?”

I shake my
head as a shiver travels down my spine.

“You can hear me?”

I nod.

“Then answer.”

I suck in a
breath, “I can hear you.”

He sighs and
shakes his head.
“In here genius. Answer
me in your head.”

“I’m not
doing that,” I say aloud.

“Why not?”
he scowls.

Recalling
with extreme clarity all the warnings I’ve had about sharing a bond with
someone and possibly doing them harm, I shake my head. “Because I’m just not,
that’s why.”

Back in my
head he continues,
“too bad, I think I’d
quite like having you inside me.”
A slow smile spreads across his face.

I shake my
head and try to conceal the beginning of my own grin.

“I get the feeling you’re a bit of a control freak,”
his words continue to enter my head, uninvited. But I don’t pull my hand away.

My nose
wrinkles in objection. Too many times in my life I’ve heard that said about me.
It makes it sound like it’s a bad thing. “Do we have to use the word freak?”

“Is there another word you prefer?”
Even in my
head his tone is flirtatious.

I think for a
moment. “How about control enthusiast?”

He laughs
aloud. An infectious, captivating laugh that lights up his face and takes him
right out of his moody rock star image. I have no choice but to laugh too,
chuckling at my own control issues.

As I catch my
breath, he leans right across me and lifts my cuff with his finger to reveal my
watch. It’s the kind of invasion of my personal space that normally gets my
back right up. It’s so cocky of him but I don’t hate it. Casually reading the
time like it’s nothing, he cusses under his breath, “I have rehearsal, I need
to go.”

A pang of
disappointment grips my chest. As wary as he makes me, I don’t want him to go.
He might cause unwanted physical reactions but I feel quite at peace in his
company. I know that’s fucking strange, but I feel like he might be the first
person to understand me and I feel the need to hold on to that.

He moves his
hand away from mine and I feel the loss of his presence just as intensely as I
felt his intrusion, but before I can react he moves in. His lips crash against
mine and I feel him and all his desires. His tongue seeks entry and I part my
lips gladly to allow him to kiss me properly. I moan at the thoughts he shares
with me. The ways he imagines us together. My cock stirs, oh God, I want him. I
want him to fuck me, I want to fuck him, I want those rings on his lips to rub
me places.

He pulls away
and chuckles. “So that’s how to get you to open up.”

I frown, no
clue what he means.

Back in my
head, he asks,
“so tell me where you want
these rings? Maybe I can oblige.”

I sit bolt
upright and jerk away from him, but he grabs a handful of my clothes and pulls
me close again. Eyeing me, he looks smug that I slipped up and gives me a
knowing smile, since he saw what I was thinking about him, wishing him to do.

Dragging me
roughly against him, he kisses me hard, one last time and then he lets me go
and stands. “See you around City Boy,” he says with a smirk and turns and walks
away, leaving me a dishevelled, horny, wreck.

I stare after
him until well after he is out of sight and then I slump back onto the bench.

Fuck.

7

THE GREATEST

Defeated, I
reach into my jacket pocket again and pull out my phone. It’s my lifeline to
the help I always need. We are here for each other night and day. Sometimes she
needs me, sometimes I need her. She is the only person who knows all of me and
I think I’m the only person who knows her at all. She is beautiful, inside and
out, she’s also the only girl I’d never fuck, even if I could pin her down. The
text sitting on my screen makes me laugh, even though I know the threat is
deadly serious.

‘Hang up on me again when I’m worried sick about you and you will learn
to fear your sleep!’

I contemplate
leaving her hanging, but just the comfort I get when she threatens my life in
that oh so endearing way she has, stops me from messing with her. She deserves
to know I’m okay at least.

‘I’ve slept with one eye open since the day I first laid eyes on you,
today will be no different. I’m okay, I survived. I’ll talk to you later. M x’

I put a tail
on her once, back when I was serious about bringing her in. That’s how I know
she’s beautiful, like drop dead fucking gorgeous. The photos that landed on my
desk took my breath away. I know where she calls home, though she is rarely
there, but I can at least mail her documents. She moves around a lot, she has
her own problems, trust being the biggest. But after what she went through with
the death of her family, I can’t blame her. We agreed, I would stop trying to
make her come in and she would start trusting me. We have been inseparable ever
since.

‘Glad to hear it. Call me later or be afraid!’

I’d call her
back now, but I just need to process things for a bit. So instead, I just stare
into space. Time stands still and I don’t find any answers, only more
questions. Eventually, I drag myself up and decide to walk home, instead of
waiting for my driver. I send a text asking for the car to be returned to my
apartment straight away and dismiss him for the weekend. Ignoring the rest of
my emails and messages, I head back to my apartment to collect my things.

I put my
neatly packed weekend bag in the boot of my car, It’s just my laptop and some
casual attire for the weekend, even though my idea of casual will still have my
brothers mocking. Suggestions that I may have lost my yacht, or taken a wrong
turn on the way to my polo match will start the moment I show my face. Oh how I
love the banter…that was sarcasm, just in case you were wondering.

I grin as I
head round to the driver’s door. I’m used to the rear door being held open for
me as I slide into the luxurious leather surroundings of the back seat. A bit
extravagant having a driver you might think. But have you tried to park in
London? No?

If I leave
the city, I drive myself. But unless I want to be late for everything, a driver
is the way to go. A perk of the VP’s job. Oh I do enjoy the perks, but I damn
well earn them.

As I start
her up and hear the thunder of the Supersport’s 5 litre V8 in the underground
car park, I smile and silently thank my father again for his faith in me, then
ease my perk out into city traffic.

So how did
the
25 year old
fourth son, become vice president of
the family bank, you ask? Well, because I’m the greatest. Now hold on, before
you laugh, it’s in my name. Maximus. It means the greatest and I’ll be honest
with you, it suits me perfectly. I’m the fourth child of six and I’m the
special one. And no, I’m not cocky, I’m just special. Really. I work damn hard
at everything I do, how I present myself, how I treat others. It’s all
carefully considered. And I’m Vice President because I rock this job.

All my life I
have watched my father and had my eye on the prize. I’ve known this was mine
since I was a child and I have done everything I can to prepare for it. Finance
is an orderly way of life that perfectly suits my controlled way of thinking.
My siblings are all on the board, but they all have their own things going on.
Not one of them has what it takes, or cares to try.

My father’s
pride in me and the knowledge that I am trusted to take over from him as
president when the time comes, is all I’ve ever strived for in life. It is an
honour that every alpha in my family for generations has been bestowed with, so
for it to come to me is incredible indeed. I am no alpha, nor do I claim to be.
But my father is a wise man and there is sense in his decision.

I hope he
still thinks so after my outburst today. I feel much calmer but I have to get
my shit together because he’s going to want to talk things over the minute I
get home and I’m not sure how I feel. I guess, embarrassed. It felt like a
major drama earlier and now I feel kind of silly. Things have been undoubtedly
tough lately, and then there was meeting T last night. I may have freaked me
out but I felt an ease in his presence I have never experienced. Talk about a
head fuck.

Dad is never
going to understand, he will tell me to avoid all contact. Not that that’s a
problem, I don’t know how to get hold of T anyway. Although he seemed very
confident when he told me he would see me around. Shit, I don’t like that one
bit, I’m the one who calls the shots. I don’t like that stuff being left to
someone else. And yet, I get a thrill just thinking about him potentially
springing up in my life again.

In a half
daze, I find my way to the estate and follow the private road which forms the
neighbourhood of our pack. To the outside world it looks like just another one
of the many private estates around here. Gated entry, and within the gates, a
small community of large expensive looking homes. The kind you see in
magazines. Driving all the way through brings you to the largest of the houses.
My home and beyond it our expansive land.

As my car
draws to a halt on the driveway, the front door opens and my father rushes out
with a stern look. I climb out of the driver’s seat and begin to greet him,
when I am interrupted.

“Your mother
has been worried sick!” Which is ‘Dad’ for, I have been worried sick.

“I did say I’d
be going home first to get some things.”

“That was
hours ago son and you haven’t answered your phone and you’ve been blocking me.
What were we supposed to think?”

I pull my
phone from my pocket and see all the messages and calls I missed. “Sorry, I
didn’t realise.”

He sighs. “We’re
worried about you, that’s all. Now come in and let your mother fuss over you
and tell me what’s been going on.” He places his arm on my shoulders and guides
me to the door. I lock the car from my key fob as we go inside. I guess I’ll
get my bag later.

As we enter
the huge kitchen that is the heart of the house and of the pack, my brother,
Alex bellows across the room, “Ahoy!” and stands to attention, giving me a
salute.

I glance at
my blue and white striped shirt, which I suppose at a push is slightly nautical
and hold in my grumbled reply of, ‘very original’, instead opting for a one
fingered salute of my own, which earns me a lemon to the side of the head.

Dad takes the
keys from my hand and tosses them to Alex. “Make yourself useful, bring your
brother’s things in from the car and put them in his room.” Then he lets my
mother at me for that motherly once over thing they do when they’re concerned,
even though she only saw me like two days ago. I swear if I let her, she would
check my ears and make me say ‘ah’. Thankfully, Dad comes to my rescue and
tells her he needs to talk shop in his office.

It’s not
really shop he wants to talk though and my mother knows this. He’s not shutting
her out either. My parents have the most beautiful relationship. He discusses
everything with her; they are very much a team. But my father is a very
practical man and likes to get down to the facts one on one, it’s his way.

“So where
shall we start? The panic attack? The boy in the bank? Or do you want to take
me right back to where you started to feel that you were losing control?” His
look is disapproving mixed with concern. “You should have come to me. What have
I been telling you all these years?”

I look at him,
guilty for making him feel that I couldn’t talk to him. “I know Dad, honestly I
do. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I have had patches like this before
and got control of it again. I was dealing with it.”

“So you think
this is no different? I have never seen you like I saw you today. Don’t tell me
this is nothing.”

“I thought it
was nothing. Then yesterday it went a step beyond anything I have ever had to
deal with before.”

He sits back
in his chair and waits expectantly.

So I tell him,
in every disturbing detail, the loss of control, the way it comes on so fast,
meeting T, the bond we seemed to have when we touched. I missed out the bit
about Rose, instead telling him that I blew off some steam. I’m sure he gets what
that means, but if he would prefer to envisage me at the gym, that’s okay by
me. Then I tell him that I caught up with T outside the bank and he was as
puzzled by his need to be in the bank today, as I was to be in that particular
bar last night.

“Hmmm,” he
says, tapping his lips with his index finger. “You think he’s like you don’t
you?”

I nod. “It’s
the only logical conclusion really isn’t it? I couldn’t read him. Clearly he
couldn’t read me. Have you ever known anyone who could sneak a power past me?”

He shakes his
head.

“But this
bond thing is really freaking me out. How did I not know that I could do that?”

“To my
knowledge, you can’t,” he says standing and going over to one of his packed
bookshelves. Once he has located the book he needs he returns to the desk and
sits back down. “You know I have learned everything I can. But there isn’t much
information. The Mali are very underground.”

He doesn’t
speak their name often and each time I hear it, my heart does a tight spasm.
Reconciling myself with what I know of these beasts is never something I’ll be
able to do. I’m not one of them, I live to prove that in every aspect of my
life. I have to believe in nurture over nature, or I may as well give up. He
has always been honest about everything, but that word tears me up. It’s like
verbal damnation. How can I convince anyone that I am good, worthy of love, if
the name adopted for what I am means ‘evil being’?

Mali, I hate
it.

I hate them.

“Most of this
is folklore and rumour,” he says, turning another page and pulling me out of my
despairing thoughts.

“Huh?” I was
so
lost,
I had forgotten what he was looking for.

“I can’t find
anything concrete about any kind of telepathic abilities. Other than when mates
bond, there is nothing.” He shrugs and closes the book.

“Well it
happened, twice.”

“Maybe he’s
not what you think he is and it’s something he can do?”

I shake my
head. “No he was as surprised as me.”

“But he didn’t
confirm what he was?”

“No.”

He thinks for
a long moment, then he looks up at me, decision clearly made. I know exactly
what he is going to say.

“I think
maybe you should see him again.”

Ok, that was
the opposite of what I thought he was going to say.

“Maxi?”

Huh? Oh, I’m
supposed to respond. I’m finding it hard to think clearly.

 
“But I don’t know how to contact him.” T
seemed pretty sure we would meet gain, but honestly, how likely is that?

“Let’s see
what Dickie thinks,” he says. Quick as always to involve his trusted beta.

“I’d rather
not Dad.” I intervene fast before he calls him.

“But he’s
very good with this stuff and he has helped you before with getting your head
together.”

Yeah, he helped me yesterday too Dad, you just don’t want to know how.
“I
had a brief word with him before our meeting yesterday.”

“Oh good,
helpful?”

“Yes very,
but as I said, it’s coming on faster and stronger than before. I just want to
use this weekend to relax and recharge, don’t go involving Richard.” I think I’m
the only person other than his mate that calls him Richard. She just likes to
maximise his status, she thinks Dickie makes him sound less important. For me
it’s more that kneeling for a Dickie, would be so much harder to take seriously
than kneeling for a Richard.

Really I
should stop kneeling for him at all, but it’s difficult. No one else really
understands what I need. I’m not a submissive, even when I submit to him, it’s
not really submitting. I just need to be pushed that far sometimes. I couldn’t
get that anywhere else without having to get more involved and since it started,
I have felt more on top of things. He lets me just take that edge back.

I don’t have
any feelings for him, but I’d be lost without him.