Later… the darkness in the bedroom presses in around me. The shadows feel heavy.Suffocating. I normally sleep naked. Not tonight, that is sure as shit aint happening anymore. Toweling off, pull on an oversized T-shirt and a pair of panties, and crawl into bed. I curl beneath the sheets, I toss and turn as sleep refuses to take me under.
The bracelet glints in the dim light. I want to take a pair of bolt cutters to it, rip it off and throw it across the room. But the word consequences echoes in my head. The meeting at Mel’s Diner in Crescent Bay is another problem. It’s public. Which means Cyan probably wants to make it official, wants the whole damn town to see us together. If he thinks I’ll just play along because he fastened a piece of jewelry on my wrist, he’s out of his mind. Turning on my belly, I tuck my arms under the pillow.
Eventually, exhaustion drags me under in my dreams; the bracelet becomes a necklace. It tightens… and tightens—until I can’t breathe and, in the darkness, his voice slips against my ear:mine.
Twelve
“Possession isn’t the problem. Obsession is.” – Cyan MacBrady.
“Why are you here again?” I ask Collin as we walk side by side toward Mel’s.
Collin tilts his head, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’m bored… and you’re more stimulating than finding someone to kill.”
I push open the diner door. “Do what you want, Col, but when Aria arrives, you’re leaving.” His mouth curves as if he finds that amusing.
I could’ve met Aria at her office and walked in with her, but I’d rather have her seek me out. Just imagining that moment is enough to pull me out of any meeting early. When she enters… scanning the room until her eyes land on me… I want to bank that point in time to my memory.We step inside and, as usual at this time, Mel’s is full. Even with the chatter and clinking of silverware against plates, I register eyes on us, the slight shift in energy that always follows. Conversations pause, a few forks hover mid-air a beat too long. I don’t come here for lunch often, being more of a breakfast man. But today isn’t about food; it’s about making a statement. I want everyone in this town to understand exactly who she belongs to.
Janice catches my eye from behind the counter and offers a friendly smile. I helped her cousin’s assault charges disappear when he got into trouble with a few Boston boys. Speaking of him, out of the corner of my eye, I see the idiot scrambling out of my booth, tripping over himself in the process.Good.I like that I didn’t need to say a word. Because here I’m not just a man, I’m their king. It’s not because I orchestrated their misfortunes; I didn’t need to; life did that on its own.
I simply understood something most men never do: opportunity is a ruthless bitch. You don’t wait for her to knock. You kick down the door and make sure she never forgets your name. I learned you can bribe people, scare them into submission. But true loyalty isn’t given that way.
Old man O’Hara raises his glass in my direction. He’s eating lunch with his wife, Lauren, like he does every Tuesday now that she’s out of the hospital. I paid off her medical debt, and he’s one of many. This town owes me, but more than that… they trust me. Loyalty is currency, and I’m rich in it.Even when the whispers started about who I really am, they never turned their backs. Not once, despite the blood on my hands. When corrupt state officials tried to bleed this town dry—buying up loans, forcing families to sell their homes for scraps, I made sure they paid for it in blood.
Now, there’s something almost like fondness in the way most townsfolk look at me. This town keeps my secrets, and I take care of it in return because loyalty goes both ways. Few of them know the truth of what I’ve done, what I am. But the rest stay loyal because I’ve given them something no law, no badge, no government ever could.Security.
“Hey there, Cyan, Collin!” Joan greets us with a grin. “Your usual table is empty.”
Collin, of course, slips into that fake charm of his as she leads us to the booth in the back. “Thanks, Joan. You’re looking lovely as ever.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Flatterer. How’s Rosa? Haven’t seen her this week.”
Collin gives her a smile that never reaches his eyes. “Better now that I’m back in town. Got any of that pumpkin pie?” He adds a wink as he drops into his seat, and Joan pinks like she’s twenty again.
I shake my head. Collin is such a liar. He doesn’t feel emotions—he imitates them. Pretends. The women who climb into his bed never notice. They fall for the smooth words, the effortless charm. If they looked into his eyes for more than a heartbeat, they’d see the indifference underneath. Joan doesn’t notice either.
“This is why I never take you anywhere,” I mutter.
Collin smirks. “Come on, lighten up. Boston’s boogeyman… this is why I don’t take you anywhere.” He sends my words back and I arch a brow at him. Collin plays suave and easygoing, but under that polished surface, he’s more unhinged than I’ll ever be.
Joan giggles at his jab. “No matter how old brothers get, brothers will be brothers. What can I get you two to drink?”
“Coffee. Black.”
“Give me something strong to go with my pie,” Collin adds, winking again. “You know what I like, Joan.” She nods and heads toward the kitchen.
I lean forward. “Why are you really here?”
Collin’s charm drops like a mask falling to the floor. His face smooths to blank and predatory. His gaze sweeps the diner. “Curiosity.”
“Bullshit.”
He taps his fingers against the table. A deliberate rhythm. “You’ve never made a public declaration over a woman before. Not once.” His brow furrows. “Your previous… entanglement… what was her name? Elana? Lucilla’s friend: she would’ve given her life for this from you. But I know you didn’t give a fuck about her unless your cock was inside her.” He leans back, shrugging, “But lunch in the middle of the day with Aria… now that, is interesting.”
Joan returns, setting down our order. “Pumpkin pie and whiskey neat for you, Collin.”
Mask back on, he grins up at her. “You know me so well, Joan.” She giggles, completely unaware of the predator beneath the smile. Then she turns to me.“You eating, Cyan? Today’s special is New England-style clam chowder. Fresh, crusty bread on the side. Perfect for a cool coastal day.”
I take a sip of my coffee. “Sounds good, Joan. But I’m not in a rush. Got some waiting to do first… and she’s worth every second.”
