Twisted Lies 2 (13 page)

Max edgily looked at me. “Core? Are you
ready to go, bro?”

“I’ll meet you two downstairs. I need a
minute to cool off.”

“I bet you do,” Rocco mumbled.

Max and Rocco nodded, and then they turned
and left.

My hands clenched and unclenched by my sides
as I took a deep breath. My body was on edge with the need to find
Sinthia and finish what we’d started. I was aroused at the mere
thought. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted someone with
the intensity I felt for Sinthia, but I knew I’d have to get over
it fast.

My mind raced out of control.
Why the
fuck did I have to meet her under such fucked-up
circumstances?

Running my hand through my hair, I stopped
short and then slammed my fist against the wall.

Fuck it.

I’d wanted to bend her over the balcony rail
and shove my cock so far up her cunt that I wouldn’t know where she
ended and I began.

It didn’t help matters that she was exactly
the type of woman I was attracted to.

Shit, she’d looked fucking gorgeous when she
welcomed my touch. Her beautiful hazel eyes had glazed over with
lust. Her pouty full lips had turned up in the corners as if
begging me to delve further. It was sensual the way her face had
glowed, and more importantly, her body had reacted to my touch like
a woman tuned to my fingers. All the while, her head had tipped to
the side as if taunting me to break her, to make her beg.

Little had she known that her lack of
submission was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. My
sadistic streak had pressed to the forefront with the burning urge
to make Sinthia mine—well, at least temporarily. Eventually, I
would tire of her, as I had with all women. My life wasn’t
conducive for any attachments, even a momentary one.

My lips curved up. It hadn’t even bothered
me when Mitch told me she’d called him about helping her break our
contract. Mitch had thought I would be angry, but it was quite the
opposite. I loved a woman who was willing to fight, willing to get
her hands dirty, because that was what it would take to stand
against me. Going against me was like bringing a knife to a
gunfight. It would be a bloody slaughter. I would crush her to get
what I wanted, and I wouldn’t lose a bit of sleep about it.

I was ruthless, cold, sadistic. That was how
my enemies had described me. But I hadn’t gone from a street thug
to self-made international business mogul by making friends and
kissing asses. I did what was necessary. What most people couldn’t
or shouldn’t, I would do that and more. That was how I had
accomplished about ninety-nine percent of the things I’d done in my
life, and Sinthia Michaels wasn’t going to be an exception.

I waited for the inevitable.
What will be
her next move? Will she offer her body in exchange for getting out
of the contract?
No. She didn’t seem like that type of woman.
Besides, that wouldn’t work. I’d just fuck her and still crush her.
But I loved a challenge.

I’d been tempted to tell Mitch to take her
on as a client. It would be fun to play around with her like a cat
with a mouse, but that would be a waste of my time and hers. Our
agreement was ironclad. But, damn, just anticipating her next move
was fun. I had no doubt she would continue trying to wiggle her way
out of our contract.

Ram came strolling up to me. “So what did
Bigsby say?”

“What?” I asked in a low tone.

In exasperation, he threw his arms up in the
air. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” I shot him an irritated stare.
“He did a song and dance, apologizing for his behavior toward me at
his fundraiser a couple weeks ago.”

I shrugged, but it still irked me,
remembering how the asshole’s eyes had scrutinized my all-seeing
eye tattoo on my neck. He had clearly not approved of my presence
at his dinner event until Mitch had admonished him by pointing out
I was Core McKay—as in McKay Corporation, one of Mitch’s biggest
clients.

“But I knew he was trying to feel me out
about the Sin Michaels deal. He’ll be calling me soon. I guarantee
you.” Bigsby was a pompous asshole, and I had no mercy for idiots.
My nostrils flared. “We’ll wait for his next move. I saw the
desperation in his eyes. It won’t be long. Trust me.”

And if shit couldn’t get worse, dipshit Kyle
Fillion appeared on the rooftop, decked out in his preppy designer
tuxedo. His carefully coiffed blond hair gleamed, and his face was
tanned and clean-shaven. I could practically smell the money on him
as he walked up to Ram and me.

“Hey, Core. Have you seen a gorgeous
brunette with a beautiful ass on the rooftop?” he asked, fixing me
with a toothpaste-ad grin.

My fingers curled into fists as I struggled
to hold on to my temper. “Excuse me?” I asked, taking a menacing
step forward.

I despised Kyle. He was the kind of snob who
used to look down on me when I’d been just a poor kid from the
projects with a single mom who worked hard by stripping to put food
on the table. I was far from poor now, but I’d never forget how
it’d felt to be treated like dirt by guys like him.

Kyle ran a hand through his hair. “Sinthia
Michaels. Bigsby said he saw her up here.” He grinned. “Damn! I
can’t believe how good she looks. If I’d known she would turn out
so hot, I wouldn’t have dumped her ass.” A wistful expression
crossed his face.

I angled my face in a silent warning, never
letting my eyes drop from Kyle’s. “She’s not interested in you,” I
delivered between clenched teeth, not bothering to hide the fury
building within me.

Confusion clouded his gaze. “Wait. Are you
fucking her?”

I closed my eyes, trying to bottle the rage
bubbling to the surface. I wanted to punch this smug rich
motherfucker in the face and break every damn bone in his body. My
eyes snapped open.

He clapped me on the back. “Never mind. It
doesn’t matter. A woman like her wouldn’t think twice about fucking
both of us.” He winked at me. “I don’t mind sharing.” A smile
curved his lips.

“She’s mine,” I said to Kyle in a calm but
icy tone, grabbing him by the throat. I effortlessly rammed him
against the wall, ignoring his yelp of outrage.

“How dare you touch me!” Kyle screeched. He
tried to get away from my grasp, but I held him close. “I’ll
fucking sue you.”

“You must have a death wish, Kyle.” Anger
coursed through my veins as I squeezed.

Kyle sputtered and clawed. The more he
struggled, the tighter I constricted. The urge to extinguish his
worthless life burned like a fire through my blood until I felt
strong hands trying to pull me off of him.

“Core? What the hell?” Ram barked.

I released Kyle.

“Are you insane! I’ll…” Kyle huffed and
puffed as he quickly tried to straighten his jacket.

My temper and general take-no-shit attitude
was known far and wide among both my enemies and peers. I had no
damn clue why Kyle hadn’t gotten the message.

“You’ll what?” I scowled, stepping forward
and leveling an ice-cold glower at him. “You want to dance, big
boy?” I hissed.

Kyle gave Ram a stricken look. “Ram, this is
bullshit. He’s out of control.”

“Don’t fucking look at Ram. Look at me, you
sniveling wimp.” My tone demanded attention. “He can’t fucking
protect you. I’m the one you should be worried about.”

Kyle dusted off his tuxedo jacket. “I’m not
afraid of you, Core.”

I stepped into his space, staring him down.
“You should be.” Cold dismissal hung off every word. I shoved him
away. “Now get the fuck out of my face,” I spoke with quiet
menace.

He held up his hand before storming off.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ram asked in a
careful tone. His eyes widened. “Fuck! Sinthia Michaels? Are you
actually thinking about tapping that ass?”

“And what if I was?” My irritation swelled.
I really didn’t want to talk about this shit.

“She’s hot. I get it.” Ram shook his head,
annoyance etched on every line of his face. “But you can’t fuck
her, Core, for multiple reasons. Most importantly, it would be
fucking messy.”

“What if I don’t give a shit about messy?”
Challenge dripped off the words.

Common sense told me to walk away from this
clusterfuck. That had been my plan until I walked into the gala and
she looked at me with that bad-girl stare mixed with a side of
trouble. There wasn’t anything contrived about the sway of her hips
as she’d walked toward me with an impish smile. It had been wicked
and real, which said she wasn't the type to run from several rounds
of hard fucking.

Ram actually shook his head, and disapproval
turned down the corners of his mouth. “Core, don’t do this. You’re
thinking with your fucking cock.”

I leveled him with a glare. “I don’t need a
lecture from you, Ram. I got this.”

With a snort, he cut his hand through the
air. “I give up. Have it your way.”

I rolled my shoulders. “I always do,” I
snapped before striding past him.

I would be damned if I admitted Ram was
right. This was the first time in my life that I was thinking with
my cock like some oversexed teenager.

Basic raw hunger surged through me, beating
at my self-control. Sinthia was everything I wanted in a
woman—strong and feisty. I was becoming painfully hard. The idea of
fighting to have Sinthia submit to me had my cock throbbing and my
balls aching.
Damn.
I had no doubt she’d battle me like a
hellcat, and I couldn’t wait to find out how hard she’d fight.

Infuriated by my encounter at the gala with
Sinthia, I plopped down on the bed. The playful curvaceous woman
seemed to always be one step ahead. Her tenacity made me crave her
even more. My attraction to her was trouble and distracting.

I had to stay focused on the mission—the
destruction of Bigsby Calhoune. Tucking my hands behind my head, I
thought back to the night Bigsby had changed my life by killing my
mother.

***

Mom grabbed my chin. “Look at that mug.” She
shook her head, dark-red hair swirling around her. “What did I tell
you about fighting?” She eyed the bruises and cuts on my face.

I pulled away. “Leave me alone.” Lowering my
head, I waited for her to leave. When I didn’t hear the sound of
her retreating feet, I roared, “They called you a whore!” I tried
to keep the bitterness from seeping into my voice, but as I thought
of her stripping in front of drunken men night after night, I found
the task even more difficult with each passing moment.

She gasped, her mouth opening and then
shutting, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Core, I
dance for a living to put food on the table. I don’t give a shit
what those snotty-nosed boys from the neighborhood think.” She
stared at me. “Do you?”

I shook my head, but I did. By now, I should
have been used to hearing the horrible names the kids from the
building called her, but it hurt as bad as it had the first time.
“I hate it here. Why can’t we move?” I despised everything about
living in our cramped one-bedroom apartment in the crime-ridden,
drug-infested project—from the pungent aromas of fish and burned
meat that wafted through the air to the piles of garbage lining the
dirty sidewalks.

She sighed heavily. “I’m working on it,
baby. Real soon I’ll have the money to move us out of here. We’ll
have a fresh start.” She ruffled my hair. “You’ll see.”

I knew she was trying to make a better life
for us. Nothing had been easy for her while raising me alone. I
despised the fact that my biological father had abandoned us,
leaving her before I was born. All I’d ever been told was that
he and Mom had a one-night stand, and he’d wanted Mom to have an
abortion. When she’d backed out at the last minute, he dumped
her and told her he didn’t want anything to do with me.

“You promise?” I asked.

She beamed, brushing my hair away from my
forehead. “I promise, baby.” The doorbell rang, and her face
tensed. “That’s my friend. He’s going to help me with my money
problem. I’ll be right back.”

I frowned. “What friend?”

Mom didn’t have any friends. She’d said the
women from work were too catty and manipulative.

“That’s none of your business, Core. Just
stay in your room and do your homework, okay?”

“Okay,” I responded grudgingly.

She walked through the bedroom door, and I
cracked open my math book, dreading doing my homework.

When I heard my mother’s bloodcurdling
scream, adrenaline coursed through my veins, and I ran through the
living room into the kitchen where I saw her being pinned against
the wall by a huge, burly man whose back was facing me.

My hands trembled as I helplessly watched in
horror while the man repeatedly beat her face to a pulp.

“I warned you to keep your big fucking mouth
shut, but you didn’t listen,” the man rasped. “Now you’re going to
end up like Cruickshank—dead.”

Mom struggled to breathe. “Please. I’m
sorry. I promise. I won’t say anything.”

“It’s too late for begging,” the man said
with menace while punching her face.

I charged and jumped onto the man’s back,
trying to claw his eyes out of his head.

The man slammed her to the floor, and I
heard the bone-crunching thud of my mother’s frail body.

The man yelled, “You little bastard. You’re
dead!” Then he swung around and grabbed me by the neck before
throwing me clear across the kitchen.

My head smashed against the corner of the
counter before my body bounced on the floor. Dazed, I slowly
reached my hand up to where my head had hit. I felt the oozing
thickness of gushing blood across my eyebrow, but I refused to give
in to the pain. My mother needed me, and I couldn’t do anything to
help her.