Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: The Complete Collection

Chapter Thirty-One

Isabella

“What is he talking about?”

I find myself speaking up for the first time in a while, but something about the way Tristan barks at Carter about his sadistic needs has my radar going off. What could possibly be the reason for Carter’s savageness, and why the hell does Tristan know about it, and I don’t?

My stomach churns. Carter glances over his shoulder at me like an afterthought.

Tristan shakes his head while the blood puddles down his cheek and chin. “Fuck it, never mind. I’m going home for the night, and I’m taking a few days off, boss.” He bites down on the last word a little harder than needed, pushing past me as he waltzes down the sidewalk.

“Go ahead and tell him, Bella,” he adds, holding his busted lip. “Maybe for once, he will be honest with you in return.”

I watch him stalk down into the sleepy city, Carter looming just over my shoulder like a heavy, pungent cloud of fucking doom and misery. I sink sideways into the car door, wishing so terribly I could storm off, but it seems useless when I don’t even know why I should be upset in the first place.

Carter brings a hand around my side, pulling me into his warm, solid stance. “Let’s go get something to eat, dove,” he breathes into my scalp. “I think we have a few things to discuss while we’re at it.”

Despite the terrible turn of events tonight, I can’t help but be pulled into Carter Blackthorne. He’s powerful and demanding and so confident of himself.

He wouldn’t cower at the first flicker of trouble—as I have.

He takes my hand and leads me across the street, pausing to let me climb back into my heels before we skid past a long, lingering line that trails out of a set of golden doors. Carter moves past the people without a care, bringing us to the very front, where a man behind a podium widens his eyes at the sight of my boss.

Carter holds my hand tighter while we’re escorted straight to a table in the dim restaurant without even a moment to waste. I slide into the half-moon booth, and Carter sits directly against me, his arm hanging around my slouching, tired shoulders.

A soft rumble of music plays from the live band, and a few people slowly dance on the dancefloor before them. This place is so calm, so soothing, that I only wish I didn’t have to talk about Jacob Lacey with Carter tonight.

He assesses his knuckles in his lap, worn and bruised from connecting with Tristan’s face—again.

“How did Jacob know about your marks?”

I swallow, a waiter bringing over some wine, and while I haven’t really been much of a connoisseur of finer things, I know expensive liquor when I see it. There are hints of sweet tones through the red, syrupy wine, and I sip on it to stall replying to my new boss.

Carter brushes his fingertips against my throat, curving his knuckles against the bottom cliff of my lower lip and purposefully separating the wine glass from my mouth. He moves the glass away, resting his palm as far up on my thigh as my dress will allow.

“Come on, dove. Talk to me.”

I brush the hair off my neck, a bit of construction dust and sweat sheened across my skin. “You remember the other night when I came home in Tristan’s coat?”

He nods, his thumb running little trails over my thigh. “Distinctly.”

“Well, I was coming home from the hospital, and Jacob stopped me. He tore my shirt, and… and Tristan killed one of his guys and drove me home. But he asked me not to tell you…”

Carter looks past me, miles away in stoical thought. “Did he say why you weren’t supposed to tell me?”

“He just said Jacob is more important to business than I am, and he didn’t want you to cut ties with the Laceys because of what Jacob did to me.”

“Did he touch you?” Carter breathes, speaking soft whispers into my temple. “Did he hurt you at all?”

I only shake my head. “He said he was going to… to…”

“I can use my imagination, dove. Relax,” Carter replies coolly. “But for future reference, you work for me, Bella. Not for Tristan Blackthorne.”

Despite his warm ferocity, I sink into his side and settle there. “Are you going to tell me about what Tristan was talking about?”

Carter inhales for a moment, mulling through his many thoughts. I admire the cold blue of his eyes in this dark restaurant, the porcelain satin shine of his complexion, and the way he carries himself in stark perfection while the rest of us are just trying our best to stay out of his way in fear of feeling inadequate.

Especially me.

“I don’t think it’s important to discuss,” Carter exhales at last, his frustrated hum of tone too strict to be anything but a lie. “For now, let’s just enjoy tonight. With Tristan taking the day off tomorrow, you’re going to have your hands full.”

He brushes the tip of his nose up my neckline, his lips speaking against the bony structure of my ear.

“Quite literally, dove.”

I shiver with his promise and try to sate my desire while the waiter brings over an array of food that we didn’t order. Carter doesn’t seem surprised, taking in the various options of salad, pasta, and bread with a flick of his wrist.

The waiter scurries off like a well-trained hound.

I focus on my glass of wine, still trying to calm myself from the encounter with Jacob Lacey tonight.

“Tell me something,” Carter hums, picking through the salad with a fork and then holding it up to my lips. I oblige, somewhat surprised by his tenderness, and take the bite. “Jacob showed me your file when you got hired at his company. It said you were about to graduate college but that you never did.”

I nurse my wine, the waiter only returning to the table religiously to keep my glass full. “I was a few credits short when my father got sick. My mother passed a while ago, so he needed someone here to take care of him. I dropped out and came to look after his medical care.”

Carter nods, offering me another bite of salad. “And you were going for architecture, am I right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’ve wanted to be an architect ever since I was young, but without the degree, I was only able to find something simple at Lacey Construction. I don’t like being a receptionist,” I mutter, the wine taking full effect already. I cover my lips with my fingertips, regretting my words. “Not that I’m ungrateful for the job you’ve given me, Carter, I really am. I just—”

“Shh, dove,” he mumbles, offering me a bite of pasta next. It pairs well with the bittersweet wine lingering on my breath. “You can’t hurt my feelings with the truth. I know you didn’t grow up wanting to be my personal assistant.”

He chuckles softly to himself, and the sound of it makes my heart flutter beyond restraint. Seeing this strong, collected side of Carter is so refreshing. He’s actually pretty sweet in nature when he doesn’t wield a belt.

“Would you return to school if you had the opportunity?”

I shake my head in reply. “I don’t entertain the impossible, Carter. I have to work to pay for my father’s care. It’s too expensive for me to pay those bills and take time away from work to go to class. And after that, I have to take a pay cut for the first month…”

My head falls. Carter brushes his palm up the hem of my dress. My breath hitches.

“You think I won’t take care of you, dove?” he whispers into my ear.

His hand is heavy on my leg and crawling toward my warm, nervous sex. He wouldn’t try to fuck me in the middle of this restaurant, would he? He kisses my cheek and exhales lightly, offering another bite from his plate for me to take, so I do.

“I’ll work on getting you enrolled into online courses, but I will have my legal team write a contract first,” he adds, waving the waiter over and motioning to my near-empty wine glass. It fills at once. “You will have to work for my company for a while and put that degree of yours to good use.”

Glee fills my wine-infused emotions.

“Really, Carter? That would be amazing.”

I move before thinking, sitting forward quickly and kissing him deeply. His hand on my inner thigh tenses, wanting to go further but thankfully staying put, considering the setting.

When we pull away, he takes my hand and yanks me toward the middle of the restaurant. I try to seem composed on my heels as he pulls me to his chest, wavering to the slow, romantic music. His hand curves down my lower back, and I hiss, moving into him more as he rubs over the bruises on my ass.

He leads us in a delicate dance, the floor clearing for just us, and the music, wine, and delicious food have a smile stuck permanently on my quivering lips. I beg to be kissed by Carter Blackthorne so much that it aches when we aren’t locked in some sort of embrace.

I doubt tonight will end without some kind of sexual venture.

My nerves are on fire just waiting for it to happen.

“Let’s get out of here,” Carter pants into my ear. “I need to rip this dress off your body right now.”

He throws money on the table and drags me from the restaurant, pulling me outside to the sidewalk where he stops under the stars, under the lights of Manhattan, and pulls me in for another full-body kiss.

I sink into his arms, floating effortlessly in his embrace.

“Carter Blackthorne,” a sultry voice calls.

Our kiss is cut short as Carter cranes his head sideways, stepping forward at once to pin me to the brick wall nearby. I squirm slightly, his hands on my thigh and my ass, his eyes deathly cold on the vixen of a woman approaching.

She has long, light brown hair and bright caramel-colored eyes that scan over me with a loathing look. Carter growls a noise like a dog protecting his bone, but I don’t think it’s me that the woman in a short, flashy dress is trying to gain attention from.

“Hey, baby,” she breathes, her long, manicured nail dragging down his arm. He flinches away from her touch as soon as it lands. “Are you looking for another good time tonight? I know the last round didn’t end well between us, but I’m ready to give it another—”

“Leave. Now.”

Carter’s voice is unrecognizable, and even the woman who came over to him steps back in caution. Her eyes sculpt me in an instant, and her face isn’t very difficult to read.

“You don’t need this girl, Carter. Take me back to your office like before, and let me get another taste of your big, sexy cock…”

Carter flinches, his hand on my thigh forming into a fist. I hiccup at the thought of her words, at the realization of what she is and what she wants with Carter. He scowls at her until she leaves in a hurry, trailing away in her sharp, tall heels.

I pry myself out of his arms, no matter how possessively they grab at me.

His eyes soften when he looks at me. “Dove, please. It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?” I pant, my chest hot in a new level of embarrassment. “At least you pay her to blow you in your office; you’re not even paying me this month, and I did the same thing!”

My teeth chatter, the cold breeze of Manhattan not helping my shivering distress.

“Am I just another prostitute to you, Carter?”

His lips part, his eyes become heavy, and for the first time, he looks like a wounded soul. But throughout the first humane look of helplessness I’ve ever seen on Carter Blackthorne, he still doesn’t reply.

My face is burning hot and most likely pink in hue.

I charge down the sidewalk, trying to leave, but Carter has other plans. He grabs at me so aggressively that I yelp in shock, in fear, my back slamming into the brick wall nearby while the dangerous, furious, and terrifying luster of this powerful man returns. Any sign of the kind man I just had dinner with is gone.

He’s not even human anymore. He’s a cold shell of authority again.

I fear him more than I like him, and something about his dilated eyes shows that he sees that shift in me. Finally, his hands release me, and I kick off the heels he bought me, running toward my apartment blocks away and not once looking behind me to see if he’s there.

I hope, for once, Carter stays far, far away from me.