Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: A Complete Dark Mafia Romance Series (Ebook + Audiobook)

Feathers and Blood: Chapter Four

Isabella

I’m one of the first to show up to the office while the other workers come and go throughout the day. They manage the project onsite, working outside the trailers set up as makeshift offices, leaving me alone for most of my time. I try to stay at my desk to not draw too much attention to myself and get roped into another pushy conversation with Jacob like the night before.

He hasn’t come by, so maybe he hasn’t noticed the missing money clip.

I stayed at the hospital with my father last night and paid for his last round of chemo. Hopefully, although unlikely, it will be the last bill for a while, at least until he has to start another session. I always keep a change of clothes in my work bag, and it came in handy last night.

The job site is alive with noise, and only when that noise stops do I finally look up from my desk. The sun has set on the construction site, and everyone’s workspaces have been shut down for the night. My ankles are tired in my heels, but I’ll have to walk again, knowing better than to fetch a bus at this hour, let alone a sticky cab seat in a taxi.

The phone rings, and I answer it on impulse. “Isabella Julis with Lacey Construction, how can I help you tonight?”

“Come to my office, baby. We need to have a talk.”

The line stops, but Jacob’s voice echoes through my mind. My hand shakes as I press the phone back into place, my heart beating hard against the wall of my chest. I know better than to break; it’s the most obvious sign of guilt.

I wipe my damp palms against my skirt and pull it down to my knees when I stand up. Checking the buttons that line up my blouse, I reluctantly make my way to the trailer nearby, watching the moon filter through the construction project.

Jacob is sitting at his desk when I enter, his hand toying with a dark-colored bottle of beer while his eyes focus on the sight of me. He motions to the chair opposite his desk, and I abide, my nerves shot in this tense silence.

“How was your day, babe?”

I swallow the urge to correct him, to use my name, but something tells me I don’t have that kind of power tonight. “Busy.”

“Busy? I bet. My day has been just as busy.” He leans forward, taking a long gulp of beer before spreading his slight grin into a wide smile. “You know what I had to do today? I had to deal with a man on the site who was selling the copper fittings of the electrical panel for scrap yard money.” he shakes his head, sighing heavily.

“He was taking it after everyone had left the job site and selling it for extra cash. When I confronted him about it, he whined about his kids needing private school tuition and his wife, who has been begging him for a second honeymoon. Well… greed does funny things to normal people.”

“Jacob, what does this have to do with—”

“Ah-ah, I’m talking, baby. It would suit you well to shut your mouth until I say you can open it again.” His eyes poke holes through my skin. “So, as I was saying, he became greedy and decided it was easier to steal than to strike a deal with me. I’m an understanding man, babe. I do my best for my workers, and I’m always there when they need me.

“They found his fucking corpse in the harbor this morning. Terrible travesty. But I guess when you find a dead thief, no one really gives a damn. Just one more rat off the streets of this city. The same goes for any kind of theft, even the ones in an office late at night when no one is looking.”

I flinch at his casual threat. “Please, Jacob, let me—”

“SHUT UP!”

I shudder at his volume, pulling back into my chair as he stands up abruptly. He throws the bottle aside, and I only hear it shatter against the far wall. Jacob undoes the buttons of his blazer coat, strolling like a drunk on the New York sidewalk, waltzing his way around the desk and standing right in front of me, my knees knocking at his.

“I don’t like the police, baby. I don’t think I should have to call them over some minor theft. It was only a few thousand, and I have plenty to spare, but for you to take it and not tell me; that’s the betrayal aspect I don’t appreciate.” He pulls my chin upward, forcing me to look into his scheming eyes while mine fill with nervous tears. “Go ahead, baby. Plead your case.”

Bloodstained Wings: Chapter Four

Isabella

Carter begins his speech, and I can already tell it’s not good. He thanks everyone for their support and then breaks the news that he won’t be the mayor we all were hoping he would be. Instead, he thanks his opponent and wishes him the best of luck, the cameras snapping their photos while it’s clear that Carter Blackthorne has finally lost something.

He’s had everything in life he needed to be successful, so I know this isn’t a fair battle. Everyone was raving about Carter before when he took down Frances and exposed the ugly face of politics around here, but it’s over now. He’s not the mayor, and his days at work are probably going to decrease even more.

The cameras battle to get a glimpse of him walking off the stage. He doesn’t spot me in the crowd, instead giving in to talk to the media. I try to get to him, but someone else catches his attention, and he turns his back toward me before I can even get close.

I bail for now, stalking outside for some fresh air.

It’s not the night to be selfish, I know that, but part of me is a little happy he didn’t win the mayoral election. I have been afraid of the repercussions of his actions for a while. Even if he says that he can’t be charged with anything, he has already told the police just enough to pin Frances down. There’s no doubt that he’s safe from those actions.

So, what about the new ones? If he gets caught doing half the stuff he shares with me at home in his penthouse, then I fear what will happen when Killian takes over.

Taking a seat on the steps, I couldn’t care much less about the white of my dress getting dirty. I hug my knees to my stomach and exhale, wondering if it’s too late in the evening to visit my father. He would be happy to see me, even though his health has been in steady decline for weeks.

His mind is still wandering elsewhere, but his body has reached its final stop.

I think about him, about Sam, too, and wonder if either of them misses me right now.

A cold brush of fingertips pulls my hair aside. I glance back to see Carter behind me, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions to count. He ushers me to stand up, and I do, taking his hand while he whisks me away to the SUV on the street. I didn’t even notice Ernesto come outside before, but there he waits with the door open, waving us inside.

I only get one foot in before I realize that Carter is on the edge of the curb, staring at the mass of media flooding down the steps. They surround him at once, but something else catches his focus. He stares at the top of the stairs, a single reporter standing with her back straight and her eyes piercing through me. Carter doesn’t move for a minute, looking right back at the reporter.

A cryptic expression passes between them, one that I’m not sure if Carter recognizes, but it’s enough that he stops to exchange a passing glance with her at all. I shouldn’t be concerned. I know Carter has his demons, but he very rarely looks at them with such uncertainty as this one.

I want to ask him what he’s doing, but he pushes his way into the car, pinning me to his lap before he slams the door shut. His hand rips through the short slit of my dress, finding the toy that rests under my thin panties. He yanks it out in a single swipe, causing me to arch and writhe with shock, pleasure, and a bit of pain.

“Ouch, Carter!”

“Shh,” he snarls, hooking his arm around my stomach so I can’t move off his legs. “Be silent, dove.”

I retreat back into myself for now, watching the city pass by as we drive to the penthouse. Ernesto doesn’t speak, which is abnormal for him. We all just sit in stunned silence until the car pulls into the garage. I spy my little red sports car, the sight of it under the penthouse almost comforting.

The door swings open, and Carter hikes me over his shoulder, carrying me to the elevator. I thrash in his grip, unsure why he won’t just let me walk, but every push away leads to a harsh slap against my ass cheek. He doesn’t say anything or give me a playful warning.

We make it upstairs without a word said.

He drops me into our shared bed, my back hitting the mattress rather abruptly. While Carter waltzes into the bathroom, I hesitate to stand up, to move an inch, unsure what’s going on in his head right now.

“I thought… I thought we were going to Anita’s tonight,” I whisper at last.

He comes back, wearing nothing but his pants while his midsection is bare, exposing the muscles that create his finely toned body. He grips his leather belt in his hand, his other shaking furiously at his side.

Shattered Wings: Chapter Three

Isabella

Bright light dances behind my eyelids. I hear a beeping sound and lift my hand up to my face. When I tug, there’s a strange pull, like something is holding me back. Slowly, I force one eye open, spots dancing in and out of my field of vision. I blink, and the world tilts into focus, showing me the IV drip poking out of my arm. I frown at the drip and lift a finger up to trace it.

The monitor next to me makes a loud beeping sound.

My frown deepens as my fingers close around the drip, and I try to remove it. Suddenly, Carter is by my side, fingers circling my wrist. Wordlessly, he pushes my hand away and steps forward, blocking my view of the monitor. I rub my hands over my eyes, and when I look back, I see Carter in a wrinkled shirt with specks of dried blood, bloodshot eyes, and tufts of hair standing up on top of his head.

He looks nothing at all like the man I love. Carter looks more like a ghost, a shell of his former self.

And as I inhale, I struggle to remember why.

Little by little, the rest of the room comes into focus, and I realize I’m in a hospital bed, in a paper-thin gown, with a blanket draped over me and a window overlooking the city’s skyline. In the distance, I can make out the squeak of shoes and wheels rolling against the linoleum floors. Gingerly, I sit up straighter, and Carter’s hand darts out to fluff the pillow behind me. He smells like sandalwood and sweat, and it makes some of the knots in my stomach unfurl.

Until he leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead. “You’ve been asleep for two days, dove. How are you feeling?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I swallow and try again, my voice coming out thick and hoarse. “Why am I in the hospital?”

Carter frowns and pulls a chair up to sit next to me. He takes both of my hands in his. “You don’t remember what happened?”

I pause. “I remember you being here when I was drifting in and out of consciousness. Did… did something happen?”

Carter’s face is smooth and expressionless, giving nothing away. But I know something is wrong by the way he holds himself and by the tight set of his shoulders.

Why can’t I remember?

Carter releases a deep breath. “A lot of fucked up shit has happened, dove, but you don’t need to worry about any of that right now. The important thing is that you and the baby are safe.”

My mouth falls open. “You know about the baby?”

“I saw the note. I almost missed it, by the way, so the next time, you should try telling me instead,” Carter says, his lips lifting into the ghost of a smile. “This isn’t the kind of thing I should find out from a note.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Carter searches my face, some of the shadows lifting from his face. “You want to keep the baby, right?”

I grip his hands tighter. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but I want to be a mom, Carter. For what it’s worth, I think you’re going to make a great father.”

Carter releases my hands and stands up. “I don’t know about that. I’ve had to do a lot of shit the past few days to keep you all safe.”

“Why would you…” I trail off as an image comes to mind. When I blink, I see Rich standing across from Tristan, who is panting and bleeding profusely. My heart starts to pound in my chest when another memory comes to mind. One with the gun Carter had given me, the same one I held to Rich’s chest.

All at once, I see the two of us wrestling for control, and I can smell Rich’s blood wafting up my nostrils. I see his mouth form a surprised “O” before he crumples into a heap on the ground. I gasp, sit up straighter, and turn tear-filled eyes to Carter.

“What’s the matter, dove? What happened?”

I shake my head. “I… I can’t tell you.”

Carter’s expression is wounded. “What do you mean you can’t tell me? We don’t keep secrets from each other, dove. Not when it really counts.”

I bury my face in my hands, my shoulders heaving. “I can’t tell you because you’re not going to look at me the same way if I do.”

The bed dips, and I hear Carter sit down. He moves closer to me, but the bed is too small, and I can’t get away from him fast enough. I don’t want to feel his arms around me, and I don’t want him to stroke my hair. I especially don’t want him to be kind and understanding because I don’t deserve it.

“I’m not the same woman you fell in love with,” I whisper from behind closed fingers, my voice catching toward the end. “I’m spoiled now, Carter.”