CRUEL (The Buck Boys Heroes Book 2), page 18
“I told him to calm down. I begged him to.” I squeeze Juliet’s hand in mine. “I had to raise my voice to drown out his. I just wanted him to look at me. He’d done it before. He had moments like that when I was growing up, but my mom could always reach him. She could always find a way to get him to listen, but that night I couldn’t.”
Tears well in my eyes as I think about that moment. That very last moment.
“I approached him. I was crying too by then. I wanted him to sit with me.” I shake my head. “I thought of Nigel. I thought maybe Nigel could get through to him. He was with us, but in a room across the hall so I turned my back to go get him.”
Juliet sobs.
I do too. “I heard his feet on the matted carpet. It was as loud as the thunder outside. He ran toward it and by the time I turned back around I saw him barrel through the floor to ceiling window.”
I drop my head into my hands.
“I didn’t think it would break, but it shattered and he was gone.”
Juliet brought me to bed.
After I relived the worst moment of my life, she took me by the hand, undressed me, and then crawled in next to me.
She held me while I cried, and while I slept.
I sense a sudden shift in her breathing so I glance to my left to find her eyes wide open.
“You’re awake,” I say for some reason.
The smile on her face that follows may be the only reason I need.
“So are you,” she points out before she kisses me softly on the mouth.
I run a hand over her delicate chin. “That was hard.”
“I know.” She presses her lips to my palm. “I’m honored that you trusted me enough to tell me.”
“I trust you with my life,” I say with absolutely no reservation. “But, there’s more, Juliet.”
“There’s more?”
I nod.
“Do you want to talk about it now or later?”
“Now,” I bite the word out. “I want you to understand everything.”
I close my eyes briefly to gather my thoughts. I hear the soft sound of the lamp on the nightstand being turned on.
The soft light it provides is just enough for me to see her beautiful face clearly. I need to focus on that so I can get all of this out. So I can begin to put it behind me.
“By the time he jumped, Nigel was banging on the door. He had heard us arguing. I ran to let him in. I was panicked. Jesus, was I panicked, Juliet.”
“I can’t imagine what you went through.”
“He rushed in, and told me to call 911. I couldn’t think straight, so I ran into my bedroom to get my cell phone even though it was in my pocket.”
“That’s understandable,” she says softly.
“That’s when I saw the envelope in the middle of my bed.”
“An envelope? From who?”
I look into her eyes. “My dad. It was a note, written on the hotel stationary.”
“A suicide note?”
I nod. “I ripped it open and read the first few lines. Nigel was in the room with me by then. I threw it at him and told him to make it disappear.”
“It must have been so painful to read.”
“Painful, so painful,” I repeat. “But, it held secrets. I didn’t read all of those secrets in that moment, but I read enough.”
“I don’t understand,” she whispers.
“Ares was in trouble financially. He had run his personal funds dry to keep the business thriving. He was embroiled in an affair with one of his aides.”
“Serious trouble then.”
I kiss her forehead. “Very and for a long time, I refused to acknowledge that note. I carried the burden of his death on my shoulders. I believed that he had waited to jump until I came back because it was a plea for help, and when we argued that was enough to push him to do it. I blamed myself. I felt I had killed him because I couldn’t save him.”
“You were arrested for his murder,” she says. “Kavan, the note would have cleared you right away.”
I look into her eyes. “It would have tarnished his legacy, Juliet, and that was all I had left to give him. All I could do to right my wrong was to honor his dream, so I asked Nigel to keep the note private.”
“You’re lucky the charges were dropped.” She moves to rest a hand on my chest. “You could have gone to prison for life, Kavan.”
“I had a good lawyer and they had no evidence of a murder other than statements made by some of the hotel guests.” I press my hand over hers. “They dropped the charges, sealed his death records, and it was over.”
“People still believe that you killed him, Kavan.”
“I know I didn’t. You know I didn’t. That’s all that matters to me.”
She presses her forehead against mine. “You have been through hell.”
“I survived it. My father didn’t,” I whisper. “I was given access to my trust fund a few months later when I turned twenty-five, so I paid back his debts, balanced the books of Bane Enterprises and have worked hard since then to preserve his legacy.”
“I understand.”
“I have never been ashamed of the way my father died,” I say with conviction. “If I believed that sharing that note would help someone dealing with mental health issues, I’d do that. The secrets in that note would hurt a lot of people, so I’ve tried to strike a balance by funding mental health initiatives, and I want to do more. I want to be more hands on.”
“I admire that.” Her hand trails over my chin. “You’re in a position to make a difference in this world.”
“You’ve made a remarkable difference in mine, Juliet.”
“I want to keep doing that.”
“Forever?”
“Forever,” she repeats before she gifts me with a soft kiss.
Chapter Fifty
Juliet
I watch Mr. Mark as he reads the second article that I wrote. It’s the one professing my love to Mr. Bane.
It’s not exactly what he wanted. There are no details of the night of Ares Bane’s death. It’s simply a journalist spilling her heart out about a man that the world has labeled as something he’s not.
“He didn’t kill his father, did he?”
I shake my head. “No, sir, he didn’t? But I’m standing by that article as written. Kavan’s past is his story to tell, and he’s not comfortable doing that publically, so this is my story of who he is as seen through my eyes.”
He glances up from his computer. “Through the eyes of a woman who adores him.”
“I love him,” I say. “Very much.”
“Her Viewpoint.”
“Excuse me?” I ask because that’s a little left field stuff.
I want to keep him on track. He liked the all business article I wrote about Bane Enterprises, so he may run that. I showed him this one at Kavan’s urging. I have my fingers crossed that this is the one that will make it to print.
“Your monthly column in New York Viewpoint, Juliet.” He smiles. “We are calling it Her Viewpoint. You’ll be interviewing the women who love the wealthiest men in this city.”
I bolt to my feet from the chair I’ve been sitting in. “What?”
“This is brilliant.” He leans back in his chair. “What better way to understand a man than to speak to the woman he loves?”
“I’m getting a monthly column?”
“You sure are.”
I skim a hand over the front of my blouse. I went totally professional for this meeting. White blouse, black slacks, and black shoes. Kavan insisted that I wear my polka dot scarf for good luck, so I am.
“You have complete control until we get to the final copy.” He stands. “You pick your subjects, you craft their stories, handle setting up the photography and then send your column my way by the fifteenth of each month.”
I nod, unsure if I can form a coherent sentence.
“We run two months out, so your love letter to Bane will hit the stands in about eight weeks.” He bounces his eyebrows. “Maybe you’ll be married by then, and we can include a picture of the bride and groom?”
My gaze drops to my empty left hand. “We’re not there yet, sir.”
“You will be.” He taps a finger on the corner of his laptop screen. “The emotion in this piece hit me hard, Juliet. You’ve got something special to offer to the magazine. It’s going to garner us a hell of a lot more readers.”‘
I drop my hands to my hips. “So my pay will…”
He laughs. “Your pay remains where it is for the next three columns. We’ll revisit after that.”
“Thank you, Mr. Marks.”
“Thank you, Juliet.” He offers me his hand. “You brought me something I didn’t know I wanted. That rarely happens.”
“Hey, Mr. Bane,” I greet Kavan as soon as I exit the elevator in the lobby.
He glances around. “Can I kiss my girlfriend in public?”
I tug on his silver tie. “You better.”
He dips me before he kisses me tenderly.
I have to hold onto him when it breaks because it was that good. “Can I have another?”
Laughing, he leans forward to kiss me softy. “I take it that the meeting was a success?”
“You are looking at a columnist for New York Viewpoint.”
“A columnist?” His eyes widen. “Juliet, that’s fucking awesome news.”
“The best.”
“We should celebrate,” he suggests. “Where should we go for dinner?”
“Our bed?” I question with a laugh.
“Our bed,” he repeats. “I like the sound of that. Is our bed in our penthouse?”
“Our penthouse?” I step back to let a woman approaching the elevator pass me by. She tosses Kavan a look that I can’t read.
He doesn’t notice.
That’s becoming more common. This is the third day in a row that he’s ventured out of his penthouse with me.
“Move in, Juliet.” He embraces me. “Live with me.”
I glance up and into his stunning blue eyes. “It’s soon.”
“It’s not,” he argues. “I want it. I know you do, so let’s go grab your stuff.”
I laugh. “You’ll need to meet Margie first, and Sinclair. You have to meet her. She’s becoming a good friend to me.”
“I’ll meet whoever you want me to meet if it means a million tomorrows with you.”
Epilogue
3 Months Later
KAVAN
Life’s treasures are found in the most unusual places.
I found mine in an alley, and now I’ve found a second at a vintage shop called Past Over.
I wouldn’t normally shop here, or anywhere for that matter, but I know that my beautiful Juliet has had her eye on something in the jewelry display case here.
Sinclair Morgan, Juliet’s friend, was the one who told me about the ring.
During dinner at the penthouse one night last week while Juliet was busy with Margot and Nara in the kitchen, I asked Sinclair about engagement rings.
The timing was perfect since we were celebrating Nara and Alcott’s upcoming nuptials.
I gave Alcott a bonus worthy of an impressive ring. I gifted Nara the same amount. She told me she was going to sock it away for a rainy day.
That day will arrive in approximately seven months when they welcome their first child.
It’s months after Graham and Trina will become parents. Sela Locke is due right around my birthday. I’m eager to meet my goddaughter and more than ready to tell her tales about her father that will piss him off.
“This one?” The woman behind the counter holds up a tarnished silver band that’s barely clinging to a gold-hued diamond.
“That’s the one.”
“She’ll love it, Mr. Bane.”
My brow quirks. “You know my name.”
“Everyone in this city does.” She pats her chest. “I read Juliet’s column last week. May I say, sir, that you two are a shining example of what true love is?”
I look to the ring before I level my gaze back on her face. “I’m a very lucky man.”
She places the ring carefully in a small gift box. “Judging by this, Juliet is very lucky too.”
“Kavan!” Juliet’s sweet voice rings out through the penthouse. “I’m home.”
“I’m here,” I call out to her, just as I place my phone down.
I was talking to Nigel. Profits are up, and he’s in Peru on a bird watching mission.
“Very funny.” She laughs as I hear her heels hit the floor.
She’s kicked them off. Her dress will follow as soon as she walks into the bedroom.
I trail her gaze as she skips right past the kitchen on her way to get undressed.
“Turn around.”
That stops her mid-step. She spins to face me.
Her hair is down in long waves. Her make-up is just as I remember it this morning when I walked her to work.
The dress she’s wearing is a deep green shade and belted at her waist.
I’ll never understand how one soul can radiate so much beauty from the inside out.
“How was your day?” I ask casually.
“Fine,” she answers suspiciously. “I’m working on a column about Nolan Black, so I met up with his wife Ellie.”
I’m familiar with them.
Juliet hasn’t requested my help with getting in touch with anyone for her columns even though my connections are vast. She completed an interview with Dexie Jones last month. She’s a very talented purse designer. Her husband, Rocco, and I have crossed paths in the past.
I wipe my hands over the apron tied at my waist. “How’s that going?”
“Can we talk about that later?” She taps her foot on the floor. “Are you cooking?”
I nod. “I’m whipping up a little something for my bride-to-be.”
That sends her eyes to mine. “What?”
I drop to one knee because my plan to make her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, followed by a scoop of honey ice cream just went to hell.
I can’t wait to do this, so I don’t.
I yank the ring box out of my pocket.
I took it to a jeweler after I bought it. She brushed up the band, and secured the stone in place. With a quick polish it looks spectacular.
“I stopped living until I found you, Juliet.” I look into her eyes. “You not only gave me my life back, but you gifted me with the promise of a future that is almost too much for me to imagine.”
Her eyes well with tears.
“I will love you endlessly, protect you always, and respect you until I die. I would be honored if you would marry me.”
I pop open the box and she squeals. She fucking squeals in delight and that’s all I need to hear.
She gives me more though. She looks past the ring to my eyes, and stares into them. “I will love you forever, Kavan Bane. I will protect you and honor you until I draw my very last breath.”
I put the ring on her finger, haul her up over my shoulder and set out for our bedroom. “It’s time to celebrate, Juliet.”
“That’s Mrs. Bane to you.”
I Like Big Books
And I Cannot Lie
Up for a ride with another Buck Boy? Think you can last longer than 8 seconds with the Bull?
Let’s bucking find out.
Click here to read BULL
Feeling thirsty? Rocco Jones has just what you need to quench that thirst.
Go on. Take a big gulp.
Click here to read THIRST
A Preview of Starlight
Stars shine brighter when the moon is dim.
I’ve always been the moon.
That’s what happens when you push your dreams aside to fulfill the wishes of the people you love.
It’s what brought me to a New York City subway platform with my guitar and a heart full of love songs written from pain and sung with hope.
When Berk Morgan tosses a handful of coins into my guitar case, he accidentally throws in a key.
It’s the key to someone’s heart.
Berk comes looking for it. What he finds is a connection neither of us can deny.
He tells me I’m his star. He wants me to shine brighter than I ever have before, but that comes with a sacrifice I’m not sure I can make.
Chapter One of Starlight
ASTRID
“Hey, blondie. I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you give me a private show.”
Blondie?
Men in this city are failing – big time.
I ignore whoever yelled that at me because I’m on the subway platform in midtown Manhattan with my guitar in my hands and its case on the ground.
I’m busking. It’s the same thing I do at least three times a week when the morning commuters rush through here with a cup of coffee in one hand and their phones pressed to their ears.
On a good day, I’ll make someone smile, and I’ll leave with a few extra dollars. On a bad day, I’ll be subjected to a man in an overpriced suit yelling obscenities at me.
Sometimes I’ll yell back because I know that a jerk like that will do the same thing to another woman trying to share her talent with people who need a little pick-me-up.
I skim my fingers over the strings of my well-loved guitar. I’ve had it for almost seven years. It was a gift on the day I graduated from high school.
I had visions of a record deal and a world tour. My dad and step-mom had a plan that included tuition at a community college back in Ohio. I stuck to their plan until I had a business diploma in my hand. That’s when I boarded a bus with the few possessions I had and came to Manhattan.
I start strumming as another train pulls into the station.
