“Tarius?”
“Yeah. Can we meet?”
“Sure. How about Golden Gate Park?”
“See you in ‘bout forty-five minutes.” Tar didn’t let him reply and hung up. He might loathe his own brother but the asshole was high enough on the food chain to actually do something about this fucked-up situation. And Keeley was worth a thousand trips to Hell. Never mind the fact he was about to sell his soul. He needed her safe. As for his mental and emotional well-being—fuck it. He’d deal with the aftermath. At least he hoped like hell he could. For his sake and Keeley’s.
E strode into the restaurant like he owned the whole damn world. There was no mistaking the man’s self-confidence. He lounged in the chair next to Lacey, and Keeley couldn’t help but notice the air of dominance surrounding him. Nor could anyone mistake his claim to the beauty sitting at his side. That love, what they shared was in every minute movement they made. Magnets. She stared in awe wondering if Tar and her even had a smidgen of it. Keeley found herself praying they did. E reached over to snatch a biscuit off her plate. “So nice of you to share with me.” He grinned before popping the flakey goodness into his mouth.
Keeley shook her head. “You don’t know how to ask?”
He shrugged, earning him a smack from Lacey. “What am I going to do with you?”
His eyebrows wagged in a lascivious way at his wife. “Oh sweetness, please let me show you.”
Lacey turned a brilliant red. “Geeze Even, I swear you have a one-track mind.”
“I do when it comes to you,” he answered, unashamed and unapologetic.
Keeley stood. “My cue to give you two some privacy.”
Her sister’s breathy giggles could be heard all the way to the restroom. A tinge of jealousy filled her. Keeley wanted that with Tar. They had always been surrounded by danger and/or drama. So much so she doubted that easy rapport was even remotely attainable.
“You’ll never be enough, Keeley. You’re not worthy of such love,” the seductive voice weaved around inside her mind latching onto every doubt, fear, and insecurity she had. Guilt slammed into her like a freight train barreling out of control. She’d done too much. She was too far gone.
Keeley splashed some water on her face and gazed at her reflection. “Oh no, you don’t,” she told herself. “You are confessing it all to Tar. Not for you, but for him.” She marched out of that the restroom determined to tell the man she loved the truth and nothing but the truth.
The demon sneered. Damn truth was his fucking nemesis. Time to see just how receptive Tar was to his seduction.
Keeley didn’t make it far from the restaurant before her phone pinged with a text.
Mitch: Braxton requested you. Meet me at E’s club.
Keeley: Be there asap.
She couldn’t help but wonder what changed. Though normally an entourage was with her, she saw no reason not to trust Mitch. Keeley figured E was contacted, so there wasn’t any reason to text Tar or Lacey. Her heartbeat raced in double-time when she noticed Ms. Jones around the corner. Coincidence? The question was answered for her when approached by the only woman who made Keeley’s skin crawl. She actually looked down at her arms convinced they would be covered in spiders. Hell, she hated spiders more than anything, making the visual more visceral. Determined the evil woman standing in front of her didn’t see her squirm, Keeley spoke nonchalantly, “How’s it going?”
“You’ve been informed of the appointment?”
Now, how the hell did she know? Not wanting to show her hand, Keeley countered, “What are you referring to?” The huff of annoyance told her she got under the bitch’s skin. Ha!
“You truly are daft.” Ms. Jones flung her hair over her shoulder, and Keeley fought the urge to pull it from her damn head. “Tonight. You are prepared?”
“For what?” Keeley swallowed down her fury, willing it to stay put as she rephrased, “Will there be something else? Or someone else?” Sure, she was aware that her and Leith would be at the underground later on. Braxton was never too rough with her at E’s dungeon, therefore she didn’t worry about not being able to keep that engagement. If it’d been in reverse, she would have had to work a different angle. The sooner Keeley either brought the bastard to justice or told Tar the truth, the better for everyone. She barely could tether Braxton’s desire to force her into sex, and each meeting with him pushed her onto thinner ice. Deception was an art form, and Keeley worried her ability to create plummeted to the earth at Mach 6.
Again, there was a holier-than-thou air when Ms. Jones replied, “Not a thing.”