Page 23 of True Bastard
“Alice, I’d like you to meet Kyllian Ward, my son’s...”
“Friend,” I quickly offered, smiling up at the woman as Anna Joy coughed into her hand, her mother lightly elbowing her to be quiet. “I’m in town visiting for a few days.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” Alice preened. “Well, welcome to Deadwood. Our little town has a rich history. There is definitely plenty to do here.”
“Deadwood?” I asked, my eyes widening. “Do you know a Karen O’Callaghan?”
Alice smiled. “Sure do. Karen owned the beauty salon in town a few years ago but moved to Rapid City to be closer to her granddaughter. How do you know her?”
When I saw both Bastards watching me, their eyes hard and calculating, I gulped, then lowered my head, silently cursing myself for not watching my words. “She’s nobody. Just a family friend. Thought I’d stop by and say hi while I was in town.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I’ve got her new address. I can give it to you if you’d like. I’m sure Karen would love to see you.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that very much.”
Alice smiled. “Now, what can I get you, ladies? I can’t stand around and gab all day long. Well, I could, but then this place would go belly up.”
A Bastard sitting at the table grunted. “Like he would ever let that happen.”
After placing our order, I quietly studied Helen Michael, Firestride’s mother. She was a stunning woman, and I immediately saw where Anna Joy got her looks from. Anna Joy was the spitting image of her mother. And while Anna Joy was talkative, the young girl had nothing on her mother.
“Oh, I’m so thrilled you agreed to have lunch with us, Kyllian. When Firestride told me about you, I wanted to meet you right away, but he wouldn’t allow it. Something about you needing time to acclimate to club life. I told him that no self-respecting woman would want to live in that pigsty. But he won’t listen to me. He’s so much like his father in that regard.”
“Pigsty?” I echoed, a small, involuntary smile touching my lips. It was a ridiculous notion, a club being called a pigsty, especially by a mother. But there was a warmth in Helen’s voice, an unexpected kindness, that cut through the thick layer of dread I’d been carrying.
“But he lives in a clubhouse, doesn’t he?”
Helen waved a dismissive hand, her perfectly manicured nails catching the sunlight. “Oh, that place is just a den of iniquity. Firestride, bless his heart, needs to learn to separate his work from his personal life. It’s a habit he got from his father. But he is a good man, Kyllian. He is a strong man, and he will protect you. He knows how to handle women like you.”
Her words, meant as comfort, landed like a blow.
“Handle women like me?” I repeated, my voice laced with a familiar bitterness. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
The casual way she’d spoken of his protectiveness, the underlying assumption of control, sent a fresh wave of unease through me. It was the same narrative I’d heard before, the same condescending tone that implied my own agency was secondary, my own desires irrelevant.
Helen’s gaze softened, a flicker of understanding in her eyes as she reached across the table, her hand covering mine. The warmth of her touch was a stark contrast to the cold reality of my situation, but it did little to soothe the gnawing fear in my gut.
“It means that my son is a man who knows what he wants, Kyllian. And when he wants something, he gets it. He’s been through a lot, and he’s learned to cherish what’s his. And right now, my son believes you belong to him.”
There was that word again...cherish.
Chapter Fifteen
Firestride
Sitting in the velvet booth at Dead Intention’s, Rapid City’s newest high-class strip club, I watched as Honey danced before me, one hand holding onto the brass pole, while her other hand grabbed her breast and squeezed hard as she gyrated her pelvis against the pole. The music pumped all around, canceling out the patrons in the other room. Yet the music and Honey did little to stop the war going on in my head.
Why did I fucking kiss her?
Grimacing, I shifted in my seat, and Honey smiled, her hand trailing down her trim body to rub her naked pussy. I watched as she dipped a finger between her wet folds and then brought her finger up to her lips before she sucked it into her mouth, moaning.
“What the hell are you thinking, brother?” Cerberus’ voice, a low growl from beside me, broke through the haze of my thoughts. He gestured with his chin towards Honey, her routine now a blur of cheap desperation. I grimaced, the sight of her doing little to quell the tempest in my gut. It was Kyllian, her defiance, her sheer refusal to be broken, that had consumed me.
Morpheus had warned me; Cerberus had warned me, but I hadn’t listened to either of them. I’d played with fire, and now I was getting burned, but it wasn’t just my own skin that felt the heat.
“She’s a liability, man,” Cerberus continued, his eyes narrowed, tracking my own gaze toward the exit. “Morpheus is going to have your head if this blows up in our faces. You know how he is about loose ends.”
He was right, of course. I knew the rules.
