Aloha, page 96
“Q…don’t say what I think you’re about to say,” Tess murmured.
“I will welcome you with open arms, brother.” I smiled coldly. “All you have to do is prove yourself.”
“Prove myself?” Henri asked, equally as coldly. “Prove myself how?”
“Go to Paris. Befriend whoever you need to befriend to get an invitation into The Jewelry Box. I’ll put a tracker on you and, if and when you’re welcomed into this sordid, sickening world, you will lead me right to his estate and will help me exterminate him, once and for all.”
“You want me to infiltrate a sex ring?” Henri’s face went white. “I’ve just told you why I can’t be around that sort of thing. Why I’m here instead of in a ditch somewhere. I-I wouldn’t be able to survive the temptation.”
I shrugged. “That’s your problem, not mine. You asked to be accepted. I’m saying I’ll accept you, but only if you prove that you’re like me. That you suffer the same desires. Drown beneath the same darkness, yet you’re strong enough to stay in the light. It takes strength to survive the curse we’ve been given. And if you’re too weak, then…I want nothing to do with you.”
Wrapping my arm around Tess, I led her toward the door. Before heading into the foyer and the dining room beyond, I turned to look back at Henri. “You can think it over tonight. I’ll give you a bed. I’ll tolerate your presence. But until you prove that you aren’t like our father. That you won’t give in and become him. That you’re better than all the evil swimming in our veins…you won’t be permitted to stay.”
Henri raked a hand through his hair. “And if I don’t?”
“If you don’t?” I gave my half-brother my final promise. “If you fail at helping me destroy Victor and his Jewelry Box. If you fail to resist the temptation of broken slaves, bound and ready to serve your darkest whim. If you fail at keeping your dick in your pants and your hands free from blood, then…so help you, I will find you, I will hurt you, and you will wish you never set foot in my house, kin or no kin.”
“You’d kill me?” Henri winced. “You’d kill me just because I’m sired by the same bastard who sired you?”
“I’d kill you because I know what you suffer. I know how close I’ve come to hurting others. Therefore, I know what you’re capable of. I’d kill you to protect those innocents, but I’d also kill you to free you from the same pain that’s driven me mad all my life.”
“And if I succeed?”
“Then you are worthy of the Mercer name and you will never be alone again.”
Henri looked at Tess snuggled against my side and a look of such visceral longing, such heart-wrenching hope twisted his strangely familiar face.
He’d managed to survive this long but it wasn’t a life he’d been living.
It’d been a prison.
A carefully fortified jail to keep himself in check.
If he could prove he was better than our father, that he had the power to control himself, then I would teach him how to find joy even while being the worst kind of beast.
I would help him find a woman capable of taming him.
I would help him be free.
But so help me God, if he failed, his guts would be ribbons, his blood would be spilled, and his heart would join the other one rotting under my rose bush…
Thank you for reading this short, steamy prequel! Henri Ward’s Dark Romance will release in 2023 with Ruby Tears. Or start at the beginning with Tears of Tess.
EBB & FLOW
Ren Alexander
Chapter 1
“I hope a rabid squirrel gnaws off his lopsided nuts!” I ugly cry the rest of my makeup off my face as Simone watches me in horror. “I fucking hate him!” I squeal, not caring who the hell sees me.
Simone leaves her front door to pull me into a hug on the stoop. “Sharla, I’m so sorry he did that to you.”
“Two weeks before our wedding!”
She nods against my head. “I know, girl. He’s an asshole.”
“A whole ass!” I yell over her shoulder, noticing her mother, Julie, standing in the foyer. I pull away from Simone and wipe my face with the sides of my thumbs. Right now, I’m positive I look horrid next to Simone, whose skin and hair exude a golden glow and contrast my brown hair and ivory coloring.
Simone picks up my suitcase. “Come on. My mom made her famous brownies.” It’s funny that her mother is a dentist but always serves sugary sweets when I’m here. I won’t argue with that.
Still, double chocolate brownies can’t fix my broken world. I sigh and sulk after Simone. She shuts the door as Julie holds out her arms. “Sharla, come here.” Her mother also gives the best hugs ever.
Simone takes my suitcase to the bottom of the staircase. Julie sighs and shakes her head as she lets go of my shoulders and twirls strands of my chin-length hair. “I just don’t understand how he could do this to you.”
“How did you find out?”
“I mistakenly grabbed his phone when I left for my final gown fitting. We both have black cases. Anyway, when I got to the boutique, I checked my phone for messages but realized I had Teddy’s phone. I entered his PIN so I could call my phone. That’s when I saw the texts from one of his coworkers, Dane.”
Simone makes a face. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“I should’ve been afraid to look because a dick blew up in my face!” Simone hides her smile, and I scowl. She never misses an opportunity to laugh or to crack a joke at my expense. Sometimes, I think Simone’s in eighth grade all over again. We became friends when I moved to Dover, Delaware, in seventh grade, bonding over our love of boys, retro 80s movies, and makeup. But I’ve always been responsible and subdued compared to her spontaneity and charisma. Not much has changed with me at twenty-four and her at twenty-three, even as adults, except that now those boys are men. Sometimes.
“And then sexts. Teddy had described what he wanted to do to Dane! Sucking, thrusting, rimming—”
Simone says, “Stop right there. We get the picture. I mean, not that one, but…”
Julie nods and clasps her hands. “Good Lord, sweetheart. I don’t know what rimming is, but it doesn’t sound good.”
Julie says, “Simone, why don’t you take Sharla to your room? The brownies are still baking. I’ll call you when they’re ready.”
Simone picks up my suitcase and heads upstairs. I’ve been at this house so much during my school years for homework, parties, and sleepovers. I loved staying here for Simone, but also for another reason.
We walk past a door, but I stop and push it open, inhaling. Simone sighs and whips around. “Finn isn’t here. Move on, girl. He’s married and has a kid. That ship has sailed and sunk.”
I pout. “It still smells like him.”
“That’s disgusting,” Simone grumbles, storming into her bedroom across from her older brother’s. Finn Wilder was my schoolgirl crush. Back then, he was handsome and has only become hotter. His wife is one lucky girl. Nearly a decade older than Simone, he didn’t live with her for long but was here often enough during college and then to visit afterward. Finn is now Richmond, Virginia’s favorite sportscaster, whose viewers dare him to do sport-related stunts. His favorite is to jump off a bridge in West Virginia every year in October.
I shut his bedroom door and follow Simone into hers. Her old yellow and pink room brightens my gloom for a minute before I remember my life crashing down on me only hours ago.
Simone sits on her bed, and I sit at her desk. Picking up her pink stapler, I turn it over in my hand. “I’m sorry about you being stuck with a dress you’ll never wear.”
She waves her hand with a shrug. “Forget it. I’ll Pretty in Pink it.”
I smile and return the stapler. “You can’t sew.”
“You can help me. If not, I’ll figure it out. Who cares about the dress?”
“I can’t believe Teddy cheated on me. Why didn’t he break up with me instead of entering a marriage he didn’t want?”
Simone frowns as she twists one of her earrings. “Men do shit like that. But remember that you’re a goddamn catch, Sharla. I hate standing next to you.” She laughs, but it’s not a typical giggle for Simone. It’s more like she’s going through the motions.
“Where’s your man? Greg?”
She tosses herself back onto pillows and throws another one over her face with a muffled, “I don’t want to talk about him or my problems.”
“I don’t want to talk about mine, either.”
We’re quiet until Simone sits up. “Let’s not, then. We should go out.”
I make a face. “You know I don’t enjoy clubbing.”
“Why not? I just graduated from college two years past due. Celebrate with me.”
Nodding, I tease, “Oh, yeah. You majored in drug rehab, right?”
“Kind of. I wanted to work in outreach for drug addicts in recovery. Now, I’m not so sure.”
I scoff, “You’re changing your mind again? You changed your mind from a model to a teacher to a real estate agent and then a news anchor to work with your brother. What happened to our shared dream of fashion design? We strived to be partners in a big fashion house before starting our own. Now, it’s only me aspiring to be a fashion designer. You dumped me.”
“Jesus, Sharla. I’m sorry I can’t make up my damn mind and complicate your plans.”
“I sacrificed for you, Simone. After we graduated high school, you convinced me to put off college for a year to make time for road trips, parties, and doing nothing. Now, I’m behind on my career path. And alone.”
“For fuck’s sake! Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t want to take a break? You sure liked seeing new places while the wind blew through your hair! Teddy hurt you, so I’m your punching bag now? Fine! But don’t blame me for holding you back! I didn’t hold a gun to your head!”
We glare at each other until there’s a knock at the door, and it opens. “What’s going on, ladies? Brownies are ready.”
Simone covers her face again, muffling her voice. “Just talking.”
Julie walks into the room, pushing her hands into her jeans pockets. Her short, dirty-blonde hair is the same style I’ve always known her to wear while her familiar smile dazzles, possessing the power to lift a dark mood. “Now is not the time to turn on each other. Both of you have suffered recent losses in love.”
I brush a tear from my cheek. “I wouldn’t know about Simone’s since she tells me nothing.”
She shoves the pillow from her face and sits up. “You’ve had your head up your ass, planning your wedding!”
Julie says, “Simone, that’s not fair.”
“Wait until you’re planning your wedding someday,” I mumble.
“Shove it, Sharla. Stop being a snot,” Simone argues. Her eyes shine, but Simone isn’t prone to tearful outbursts like me. I’ve seen her cry twice in all the years I’ve known her.
“Me?”
Julie sits on the corner of Simone’s mattress. “Ding, ding. Back to your corners. You need each other right now. I heard you talking about road trips. What are you doing about your honeymoon, sweetheart?”
“Oh, jeez. I didn’t think about that.”
“Hawaii, isn’t it?”
“Yes—Maui, to be exact. A week. I always wanted to go there.”
Julie laughs. “Why can’t you still?”
“Well, because I… It’s a honeymoon.”
“Only if you label it as one. Didn’t your parents give you the trip as a wedding present?” I nod. “Since it’s already booked, they’d want you to use it for everything you’ve been through. Take someone with you.”
I glance at Simone, who stares at her lap. “Simone, we could call it a divamoon.”
“Pussymoon,” she says, smiling as her blue eyes meet mine.
“We’re not calling it that.”
“BBmoon.”
“Babymoon?”
“What the hell, Mom? BBmoon.” Julie and I stare at her, and she rolls her eyes. “Bad bitches.”
I frown. “We’ll work on that.” I then turn to Julie. “How do we do this?”
“I’m so on board.”
“Whoa, whoa. First, brownies, and then we’ll make calls.”
Chapter 2
“This is the shit,” Simone whispers as we raise our sunglasses and observe the hotel lobby in a 360-degree circle.
“This looks so much better than the brochure.”
The floor is a random pattern of earth-tone tiles with wide columns jutting from the floor to the ceiling, dotted with large, dome-like light fixtures. Love seats and chairs pepper the massive room that appears endless. Green, gold, and cream carpeting covers the floor, and on the other side of the lobby, small tables and chairs and a long counter with stools pervade the area.
We check-in, the desk clerk explains the amenities, fastens green plastic bracelets around our wrists to keep a running tab on our food and drinks, and offers us a bellhop to help with our luggage. However, Simone grabs the surfboard room keys and advises him we’ll handle it ourselves. I don’t want us to do everything on this trip. I’m here to relax and… I don’t know what else. I’m afraid to make it that far.
We roll our suitcases along the tiles, echoing a hollow, sandy sound. It’s late afternoon and the bright blue ocean shimmers with sunshine beyond the expansive windows on our way to the bank of elevators. The salty sea air drifts into the lobby, peeling away some of my sadness.
The doors close with only Simone and me, and she says, “Thanks for bringing me along.”
“Of course. There’s no one else I’d bring other than my mom.”
Simone waves her hands like she’s swatting flies. “This trip must be epic and life-changing for you, Sharla.”
“It already is since it’s not my honeymoon.”
“Yes. That’s what I need you to remember. You’re single. No attachment.”
“Thanks? God, Simone. Kick me while I’m down.”
“I’m trying to elevate you. You will do the unthinkable. Something you’ve never considered doing. I dare you to have a one-night stand.”
I laugh. “You’re hilarious and sound like your brother.”
“Sharla, this is Maui. You will live. A lot. All your life, you’ve played it safe.”
“I want whatever you’re huffing.”
The elevator opens on the eighth floor to a blue-and-cream carpeted hallway. People roll suitcases past us while laughing and talking. There’s a thrill in the air from being in paradise.
We look at a room key and the directory sign on the wall and swing left as I mull Simone’s suggestion. I’ve never imagined having a one-night stand. They seem impersonal and a little transactional.
Finding our suite, Simone enters a card, and the door opens with a green light and a click. She steps aside and allows me to enter first. I lug my two stacked suitcases and makeup case into the room with a balcony and an ocean view. “Sweet aloha!”
Simone rushes into the room after me. “Fuck me to Maui,” she utters with the same amount of awe.
“I second that.” Luckily, the hotel allowed me to switch our room from a one-king-bed suite to a double queen. The cream-and-gray carpet resembles rippled sand. There is an ocean canvas picture spanning the distance of the bright white beds.
“I can’t believe we’re here!” I marvel, walking over to the window.
Simone laughs. “I know it’s not a honeymoon, but I believe with all my heart that this trip will change your life.”
I’m dubious and ask, “What do we do first?” I claim the bed closest to the balcony because I deserve it. I separate my suitcases and set the smaller cases on the bed.
Simone bounces onto her bed. “I already gave you an assignment.”
I shake my head as I dig into my makeup bag. “I’m not having sex with a random stranger.”
“Why? Your ex-fiancé was fucking a specific coworker.”
I spin around. “Simone, come on!”
She crosses her legs and studies her manicure. “You need to do it. I brought condoms. You’ll be fine.”
“God, I can’t believe you’re trying to talk me into being someone I’m not.”
“No, just less uptight. Have you seen yourself lately? You need a redo. And I will pick out a man for you.”
“Wait! What? There’s no way!”
“Yes way, because your outrageous standards suck.”
“You’ll pick out some beach bum with bad breath and body odor.”
“Give me some goddamn credit, Sharla. I’ve done this before.”
Curious, I sit across from her on my bed. “Oh, yeah. The night you lost your virginity.”
“Donovan Abernathy. So cute, but so dumb. And he lasted five minutes. Disappointing. I almost swore off sex and joined a convent.”
“Why did you do it? I was at the party but was downstairs.”
She shrugs. “I dared him to pop my cherry. We went into Mason’s bedroom, and Donovan didn’t know how to put on a condom correctly. I wonder how many girls he impregnated, but it would not be me.” Simone makes a face and runs her hands over her thighs like she wants to forget it now.
“Then what?”
“Not much else, except Mason watched us. It was creepy as fuck. Donovan didn’t give me time to get in the mood and thrusted maybe ten times, and it was over. I cried, but it wasn’t from ecstasy. For a little pecker, that shit hurt. Zero stars.”
I laugh. “What did Mason do?”
“Nothing. Apparently, Donovan and I were not jerking material.” Simone sighs. “Anyway, we’ll find you a man. You’ll fuck his brains out and give him a fake phone number.”
