Chapter 1
This was it. Now or never. Don’t be a chicken, Gwen.
I slowly step around the 10 ft Christmas tree, toward the family of Hermans, who share their crackers, twisting and pulling them apart. The gifts were upsized, little liquor bottles spill out into their hands. One from Calvin slips past his clumsy fingers and smacks the floor and rolls toward me.
Calvin and I had been dating for three weeks but he wouldn’t introduce me to his uptight, infamously wealthy family that came from Old Money. I wanted to make the best impression I could, so I figured crashing this moment might be a great surprise. An ‘accidental’ run in with Calvin at a public event.
I really, really loved this guy.
His family had already donated a hundred thousand dollars to the Beechwood Fire Station, to help them since it ironically burnt down to the ground last week. More like – exploded. Leaking gas pipes, I think. No one died, thankfully.
Now, this Townhall Christmas lunch was to raise funds and help share support to everyone impacted by the 3 month long span of arson attacks all over Beechwood. The police couldn’t figure it out, neither could the firies.
Calvin spots me as I lean down toward the runaway liquor bottle, and he fixes his tie and turns, clearing his throat as he blushes, facing his family.
I pause, since I expected him to be shy. He was shy around others. Expected. Poor guy.
He’d turn to me soon, though – I get nervous and the little liquor bottle escapes my fingers, rolling further under the tree. I get down on one knee and reach under the prickly pine needles, my fingers brushing the bottle. My miniskirt rides dangerously high and my breasts nearly spill out of my crappy-fitting bra. I needed a new one, but it was the only white one I had.
I stretch out my arm, and the mini liquor bottle finally slips under my index finger and I finally roll it back out, grasping it tight. I stand up, “Cal –” I pause when I feel a pinch on my bum.
What the fuck –?
“Gwen, who the hell are you approaching? Amy’s aunt, Patricia?” Ivaan – my fucking neighbour who fucked me two months ago when he found his wife having an affair – growls against my ear. Clearly a vendetta is apparent. Against me, though?
There must be a misunderstanding here. I didn’t do anything wrong.
“Hang on, no, Ivaan, wait…” I try to turn toward him, but I can’t face him completely when two of his firefighting pals casually approach - far too close. There’s only inches between us all in a few seconds. I can feel them radiating heat all around me, and I feel stifled and overwhelmed.
These six foot five, sexy bastards all watch down on me with suspiciously narrowed eyes, bulging arms barely contained by the red Christmas shirts. Ivaan’s shoulder length blonde hair that never sits a hair out of place is like a thick lion’s mane, and right now he looks like one on the hunt. His dark eyes narrow on the liquor bottle in my hand and he violently grasps my wrist. I gasp at the aggressive contact.
“Or are you just stealing?” Ivaan whispers down at me, “There’s free alcohol over there.”
“Where’s your prize, sweety?” Calvin’s mother cooes at him behind us – before I hear another family member call out from the pack of Hermans.
“That woman has it, she picked it up… why did she take it, what in God’s name is she doing? That wasn’t hers!”
Silence, followed by the two firefighting pals, pointing a finger each at me. Helping to choose a suspect, and of course everyone believes them. I can feel the tension thicken between our two groups.
Ivaan snatches it from my hand, shoves past me and hands it to Calvin, while I hear gasps of disgust from Calvin’s parents and family members. Disgust. They think I’m a petty thief or an alcoholic who crashed the Town lunch.
I am so embarrassed I can’t even turn to see their expressions, but my ears do perk up for the sound of Calvin. Surely he’ll defend me? Call out my name?
“Ivaan, dear, Jordie’s been so quiet about you, it’s unlike her,” Amy, his wife’s aunt and Calvin’s mother, speak to my persecutor with love, “How are you? How’s work been?”
“Busy at work with all the arson attacks, and busy at home renovating the basement, I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact,” Ivaan is gruff. But still, no word from Calvin. When I try peeking over my shoulder, he’s facing his family, back still turned to me as he ignores my entire existence.
We had been fucking every night at his place for three damn weeks and this is how he defends my honour? He said he loved me last night! Rage consumes me and I swing around. I take a step toward him, wanting to smack him over the head at the very least – but I can’t.
One of Ivaan’s mates steps in front of me, seeing where I’m headed.
“I wouldn’t do that,” these firefighters were all the same, even the same complexion, but their features were distinct. This one, who puts a hand on my shoulder to back me up? Calm, brown eyes, waves of black hair, with thick lips now screwing into a signature smirk, “Gwen.”
“That’s my boyfriend,” I hiss, “Get out of my way.”
“He’s not your boyfriend,” he keeps backing me up, “Didn’t seem like it. You crazy? Delusional?” great, this one’s already gaslighting me. I didn’t even know who the fuck he was!
But of course, Ivaan’s now talking shit about me. Probably told his firefighting crew about me. These two have it in for me. For the fuck up he created.
He was the one who agreed to help fix my leaking shower head, he was the one who shoved me against the wall and fucked me while I was still in a towel. Yeah, I agreed to the heated moment, we always had weird chemistry, and I had heard him arguing with his wife. Like, he was literally screaming about the cheating he walked in on. It all happened quickly, he came over to my house to cool down! I tried to give him a handy-man job to get him focused, and he got his fucking dick out instead!
But even then, I knew it meant nothing. A fling, to throw off steam since he knew his marriage was officially falling apart.
But apparently he had been trying to save it up until now.
I didn’t realise how our moment had lingered with him though, at this Christmas lunch at the Townhall, it all comes out. Where apparently he was paranoid I’d tattle his fuck up to his wife’s family. I mean, she was the one who cheated first, so why was he even defending her? Screw men and their logic, seriously.
I was the innocent party here, trying to live my fucking life.
“Get your hand off me…?” I raise a brow at the firefighter now all up in my space.
“I’m Heath,” he is still smirking, and his eyes roll over me, looking hungry, “I think I should escort you out the back, we don’t want trouble with the Hermans.”
“I’m staying right here,” I dig my heels in, “I have to make a donation too.”
Heath forces his strength on me and backs me up anyway into the wall and keeps me there like a prisoner, his hand remaining on my shoulder as his friend follows like a backup.
I feel like a damn criminal, being held before the police arrive.
I look toward Ivaan and he’s now smiling and chatting with all of them, laughing even.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I whisper under my breath, “What are you holding me for? I didn’t do shit.”
“Jagger,” Heath keeps his hand on me, and I do admit it feels sinfully strong, as he keeps gripping me needlessly hard – like he wants me to feel how strong he is, “How’s Ivaan?”
“Mad,” Jagger frowns at me, “Wait till he comes over before we release her.”
“Stay right there,” Heath keeps staring at me and not blinking, and his dark eyes hold an indifference about them. Like he’s always cool. Or maybe he’s just trying to intimidate me.
“Does it look like I’m going anywhere?” I whisper, “I’m trying not to draw anymore attention to me, or I’ll lose business, otherwise, if it was any other event I’d be screaming every name under the sun that I’m thinking about you right now.”
“Tell me,” Heath drawls quietly, intrigued, “Please.”
“You’re pretty hot,” I start, to catch him off guard, “For a fucking piece of shit coward who wants to gang up on a stranger – you call yourself a man who serves the community? Who saves us? Why don’t you let me be innocent until proven guilty, fucking asshole.”
Heath absorbs everything, his pupils widening, “Is that how you deal with difficult clients, as a realtor?” he asks so calmly, “Insult them until they sign the papers so you can sell their house? I’m just curious how you have any business at all.”
I shut my mouth, feeling like I won’t get anywhere with Heath. I thought I might crack him open, but he lets every word bounce off his fucking wide as hell shoulders.
Ivaan suddenly appears then, looming up behind Heath, while Jagger stands back, still acting like a guard.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask Ivaan, my eyes drilling holes through him, “I’m not guilty of anything.”
“That’ll be the last time you try and rat me out,” Ivaan warns me, “Our secret stays a secret.”
“It didn’t happen–” I start to yell and Heath finally releases my shoulder to put that strong hand right over my mouth, shutting me up. Now he clamps my jaw shut.
“You try anything like that again,” Ivaan steps closer to me, “There will be consequences,” he puts his hand on my stomach, and I press my hands behind me while my bag gets squeezed between my hip and the wall.
I shove my hand in there, reaching for my phone and turning on the camera with muscle memory alone. I unlock it and press the button to record, hoping like hell I did it right.
The function is focusing back on the small presentation stage where they’re currently giving away hampers. No one is looking in our direction. Lucky them, right?
Jagger looks like he’ll continue to stand guard, until he realises no one is looking and then he moves closer, running his hand through his brown perfectly styled hair, now leaning his elbow on Heath’s shoulder and looking me up and down.
The three of them are way too close.
Ivaan sees me reaching for my phone, so he jerks my hand out of my bag and then drags my hand down between my legs, his hand holding the back of mine.
My fingers bend with his, and he makes me touch myself through the material of my pantyhose.
“Remember?” Ivaan purrs at me now, almost looking heated himself, “What we did in that shower? What you begged me to do? Tempting me, you bitch. Next time I’ll take your ass – and Heath will film it for the memory, yeah?” there’s no way Ivaan means that –
“I’ll kill her too,” Heath murmurs so quietly. I hitch my breath when the threat registers. It even makes Ivaan pause and throw his eyes to the side, shaking his head and then focusing back on me, still holding my hand.
“Heath,” Ivaan chuckles, “God knows, you need a therapist. Your humour is fucked.”
“Hey,” Jagger suddenly wants a part of this, after just looking me up and down, he smirks, “He tries to kill you, I’ll save you for myself,” he winks, confusing me.
“You understand now?” Ivaan asks me, and when I can’t talk, he has to release my hand and grab Heath’s wrist, dragging his hand from my lips.
“Yes,” I say it as pathetically as possible, knowing it’s being recorded, “If I try to tell the Hermans about your affair, you’ll rape and kill me,” I whimper again, and then Ivaan pauses, annoyed by that last bit.
“You did this,” Ivaan looks frustrated, “Let’s go,” he turns and keeps growling to himself, moving off.
Jagger saunters back and smacks Heath on the side of his bicep, to get him to back up.
Heath doesn’t move away from me, he’s staring at me like a fucking psychopath.
I say nothing, seriously considering him as such a thing. Psycho. Totally. Psycho.
He’s not laughing, he’s not joking around, he’s not winking or trying to reassure me that he was just speaking about killing so non-fucking-chalantly.
Heath’s eyes fall down to my skirt, and he does what I expect, since he’s so fucking cold.
He reaches out and puts his hand between my legs, his fingers crawl under my skirt, pressing straight into my panties.
Heath smiles and takes his hand back, tilting his head at me as he turns and moves back to his friends.
Holy fuck.
I run out the back door, before I hyperventilate.
Damn it, Heath!
He touched my panties… and he found them absolutely fucking soaked.
I reach into my bag and I take out my phone.
I could fucking cry.
The whole interaction?
Recorded successfully.
“Yes,” I run to my car and I hop in, shaking as I turn the engine on and push it into drive.
How dare they fucking touch me and threaten me.
How dare they fucking do that to me.
The very second I get home?
I scroll through my contacts, I get Ivaan’s number – which I had because we were neighbours. We watched each other’s houses if we went on vacation.
Now I send him the fucking video.
With a three word promise.
You’re all mine.
It’s pretty simple – I was going to make them do whatever the hell I wanted.
Or I was going to ruin their lives for the rest of fucking forever.
