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

Chapter Twenty-Five

Carter

“What does he want?”

Tristan doesn’t look up from his phone when he answers. “His secretary said to bring you to City Hall. That’s all I know.”

I take another sip of my drink. “Fine. Let’s get this over. I have other things to do.”

Including my very hot and insatiable fiancée, who was tangled up in the sheets in our room, sound asleep when I left her thirty minutes ago.

I don’t like being pulled away from her, but this is the first time Mayor Hughes has reached out directly.

And I know it has something to do with the press conference he’s holding in twenty minutes. A part of me is tempted not to show up just to test the limits of our agreement, but the other part of me doesn’t want any more unnecessary problems.

Between the fights breaking out in shared territory, and the issue of the docks still unresolved, I don’t need one more problem on my plate. Least of all, one that involves the city’s dear mayor.

Convincing him to abandon his allies wasn’t hard, but I doubt he’ll do it a second time if I screw him over.

I finish the rest of my drink and lean back against my seat. In the rearview mirror, I feel Tristan’s eyes on me. When I glance up, he holds my gaze and doesn’t look away for the longest time. Tristan and I have been inseparable since I joined the Blackthorne family at the age of twelve.

While everyone else walked on eggshells around me, afraid of bringing up my sordid past, Tristan was the only one who didn’t treat me like I was made of glass. Although I loved and appreciated everything my parents had done for me, it was Tristan who made me feel normal.

Like I wasn’t some broken kid who got lucky.

With a frown, I break our gaze and take my phone out. After scrolling through the contacts, I settle on Isabella’s name, and my stomach gives an odd little dip. My dove and I have been doing so well lately, but I can’t help but feel like we’re living on borrowed time.

Inevitably, something or someone is going to tear us apart again. It’s how it always goes with me, and I’ve come to expect nothing less.

The only difference is that this time, I’m desperate to stop it.

I will do anything and everything within my power to keep our family together, even if it means having to walk away from the only life I’ve ever known. Still, as I wonder what the future holds for us and our daughter, another part of me rejects the idea completely.

Without the Blackthorne family to lead, I’m not sure I know who I am. Or the kind of person I want to be, but I know that I want to try.

Isabella picks up on the fourth ring, her voice thick with sleep. “Where did you go?”

“I have something to take care of.” I use one hand to keep the phone pressed to my ear and use the other to press the button for the partition, separating me from the rest of my family. “I promise I’ll make it up to you when I’m back, dove.”

Isabella sighs, and I hear her yawn. “It’s okay. Just be careful.”

My stomach tightens. “I will. I need you to do something for me, dove.”

I hear sheets rustling, and Isabella’s voice comes back on, quieter than before. “What’s wrong?”

“Whatever happens, you—we need to put our daughter first.”

“I don’t understand.”

I run a hand over my face. “I had a life before I became a Blackthorne. A life I don’t like to talk about. Hell, if I could figure out a way to erase it from my memories altogether, I would.”

“I’m sorry.”

I grip the phone tighter. “It’s not your fault, dove. The world is a fucked up place, but I got lucky. At least I ended up somewhere better.”

“I’m glad you did,” Isabella whispers, her voice catching toward the end. “What was your life like, before I mean?”

“Fucking depressing,” I admit it, with a frown. “But I know that what could’ve made it better was if the people who brought me into this world had put me first. If they hadn’t been so fucking selfish, then maybe…”

I try to push away the memories to the back of my mind, but they still threaten to pull me under.

When I blink, I see a woman with bottle-blonde hair peering at me from behind a cloud of smoke. When she stands up and walks over to me, she shakes me hard enough to make my teeth rattle. Then I see a man with greasy dark hair and pit stains under his arms and heavy circles under his eyes. I blink again, and the two of them are standing a few feet away and arguing.

When she shoves him, he frowns and throws his hands up in the air.

“Carter?”

I blink, and the memory drifts away, leaving me with a strange ache in the center of my chest. “You’re going to be a great mom, dove. I don’t doubt that.”

“You’re going to be great, too,” Isabella insists in a clearer voice. “I know you don’t see that or feel it, but I’m sure.”

“You have too much faith in the world and in people.”

“Sometimes people need faith.”

I sit up straighter as the car pulls to a stop outside of City Hall. Through the tinted windows, I can make out the vague outlines of a few reporters standing on either side of the path leading up to a makeshift stage and podium set up in front of the double doors. Cameras flash and voices rise and fall as I push the door open and step out.

“What’s all that noise?”

“I’m with our dear mayor,” I tell her, pausing to switch the phone to the other ear. “I have to go.”

“Let’s talk about this some more when you get home. Be safe.”

“I will.” I hang up and shove the phone into the pocket of my pants. Slowly, I unfasten a few buttons on my jacket before shoving my hands into my pockets. Ernesto and Tristan fall into step on either side of me, and we walk up the path in the center.

Mayor Hughes is standing behind the podium outside of City Hall, a team of burly uniformed security men standing behind him, with a strange twinkle in his eyes. He stands up straighter when he sees me, and his smile is almost smug. I don’t break my stride or falter as the press turns and notices me walking up to him.

Suddenly, questions are being thrown my way, and spots of light are dancing in and out of my field of vision. Ernesto and Tristan are unfazed as they close ranks around me, and we quicken our pace. Once I reach the mayor, he holds his hand out and gives mine a firm shake. Then he pulls me in for a quick hug, but I can’t hear what he whispers into my ear.

As soon as he draws back, a flood of unease washes over me. What is he up to?

“Thank you for joining me today, Mr. Blackthorne,” Hughes says into the microphone. The top of his head is glistening underneath the bright lighting of the stage, and the overpowering stench of his cologne wafts up my nostrils. “I know the two of us have had our differences, but I’m happy to put them aside for the sake of our city.”

I flash the crowd a quick smile. “I agree.”

Hughes twists so he’s addressing the crowd directly. The afternoon sun is waning now, bathing the world in hues of pink and purple and giving everything a strange but ethereal glow. A low buzz starts in the back of my head, but I ignore it and focus on the mayor.

I hate not knowing what the little weasel is up to. But at this point, I can’t afford any more bad press. If I need to stand here and rub elbows with the mayor to get my businesses back on track, so be it.

It’s not the worst thing I’ve had to do, but it is the strangest.

“Mr. Blackthorne and I have had several talks since I became mayor,” Hughes continues, with a lift of his chin. “I know some things were said, and I apologize for my behavior in all of this. I’m only human, after all, and I’m so thankful to my constituents for continuing to take a chance on me.”

Scattered applause rises through the crowd.

“It is our job to do better, so in light of that, I’ve set up a new initiative. Mr. Blackthorne will be spearheading this new position.”

Son of a bitch. What the fuck is he doing?

The smile doesn’t drop from my face as I lean forward and offer everyone another smile. “I’d be honored to serve my city, Mr. Mayor.”

Hughs nods and grips the podium with both hands. “As of today, Mr. Blackthorne will be given the title of custodian of the city, and he’ll be working closely with law enforcement to help protect this city from those who seek to harm it.”

More applause breaks out, and hundreds of eyes are now fixed on me. I continue to stand there, allowing the flashing lights and everything else to wash over me. Hughes is lucky I’m trying to turn over a new leaf, or I’d have had Ernesto and Tristan create a distraction by now so I could drag him inside.

I still want to feel what it would be like to slam him against the nearest wall and punch him.

For a long moment, as I stand there with my hands clasped behind my back and the blood roaring in my ears, I picture it. I imagine the rush that comes with knowing I’m the one who’s in control.

Before I can do anything stupid, I conjure up an image of Isabella tangled up in bed sheets and laughing as she looks at me. Then I see her cradling a baby to her chest, a look of awe and wonder etched onto her face. Releasing a deep breath, I take Hughes’ outstretched hand and pull him closer.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s an olive branch,” Hughes replies without missing a beat. “Take it.”

I grip his hand tighter, and some of the color drains from his face. “I don’t like being threatened, Hughes, and I hate surprises.”

Hughes uses his free hand to clap me on the back, then draws back. “This is a good thing. You’ve got a title and my public endorsement. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

I study his face. “What the fuck do you want in return?”

Men like Hughes don’t doll out favors for free. Even if he is an ex-cop.

It’s clear to me that our dear mayor has figured out that his experience as a policeman isn’t going to do him any good. Instead of cracking down on crime and turning the whole city inside out, Hughes is slowly realizing the benefits of keeping people like me around.

And in his back pocket should the need arise.

Hughes is keeping me on a tight leash, but it’s a leash all the same. I’m eager to test the limits of my new freedom.

“People like you always assume the worst, don’t they?” Hughes releases my hand and takes a step back. “I’m not that rat Frances, and I’m not one of your goons.”

“Do you have a point?”

“You and I are going to have a talk later.” Hughes turns away from me and waves at the crowd of people gathered, all of them clamoring to be heard over the other. “My secretary will be in touch.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw. “And if I don’t play along?”

“I don’t think you’re going to turn down an ally like me,” Hughes responds, his eyes still fixed on the crowd. “From what I hear, you need more people in your corner.”

With that, he gestures to the reporters, who start calling out questions to him. A few of his security team take a step forward, and I melt into the background. My head is still spinning as Ernesto and Tristan lead me around the back of the building. We take a few twists and turns until we end up back on the main street, across from where the SUV is parked.

Ernesto and Tristan exchange a quick look before Ernesto crosses the dimly lit street. He gets into the SUV, pulls away from the curb, and circles back to us.

Tristan is scanning the street when Ernesto brings the car to a screeching halt. Hastily, I get into the back, and Tristan moves to the passenger side. Once the doors click shut, Ernesto hits the gas, and the car lurches forward. I peel off my jacket and throw it on the seat next to me.

“What the hell was that? How did nobody know what he was planning to do?”

“He’s kept it under wraps,” Tristan replies in a tight voice. “I have no idea how no one got wind of this.”

“We need someone on the inside.” I undo a few buttons on my shirt and scowl. “He’s up to something, and I want to know what it is.”

Because he’s not going to make up an entirely new title without a plan in mind. Which leaves me with the very real possibility of alienating the mayor again.

Fucking hell.

Why can’t I catch a break?

Tristan twists in his seat so he’s looking directly at me. “We will get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, we do have that meeting to attend. Unless you want to skip it…”

I lean back against the leather couch and raise an eyebrow. “If you have something to say, fucking say it. Otherwise, don’t waste my time.”

I’m not in the mood for thinly veiled suggestions or insults. Or backhanded insults.

I glance over at the tray boasting several glass decanters with drinks. My throat is suddenly very dry, but I resist the urge to pour myself a drink. Instead, I press my face to the glass and stare at the world as it races past, a blur of shapes and colors. Tristan’s sigh is heavy, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him whisper something to Ernesto.

When I turn to them, they are both looking at the empty road ahead. Streetlamps flicker on either side of us, and Ernesto flicks the turn signal on. He veers onto a narrow cobblestoned street with large buildings on either side of it. Slowing to a crawl, he pulls into the alley beside an old half-finished building with a tarp on the door.

Paul comes out of the building and looks directly at us with a frown. A chill races up my spine.

I get out of the car and shove a hand into my pocket. “You need a different hobby.”

A shadow settles over Paul’s face. “Maybe I’ll find one.”

In silence, the three of them fall behind me, and I push the door open with a creaking sound. Inside, it’s musty, and there’s a low buzz overhead. My footsteps are heavy, the sound echoing back to me as we creep down the hallway. Together, we spill out into a living room, where all the Blackthorne men are waiting in various stages of rest.

As soon as I come in, they all scramble to their feet.

Lorenzo is the first to step forward, hands balled into fists at his side. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we asked for a meeting.”

I drape my jacket over the nearest chair and pause to roll up my sleeves. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Lorenzo glances over his shoulders and then back at me. “We don’t want this to get ugly.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Get to the point then. You know I hate it when people waste my time.”

Lorenzo draws himself up to his full height. “We’ve all been talking, and we want to put it to a vote.”

I walk over to the nearest chair and sit down, regarding everyone with a blank look. “Put what to a vote?”

A part of me already knows what the bastards are hinting at, but I still need them to say it. Because another part of me wants to hear it from their own lips.

“Daniel Blackthorne should be the head of the Blackthorne family,” Lorenzo announces, the words pouring out of him in a rush. “He is a Blackthorne. He is qualified, and he’s spent the past few weeks learning about our operations and how things are done.”

I fold my arms over my chest and level Lorenzo with a look. “And you think that makes him fit? By that logic, every person here has a claim to the throne.”

None of them want to meet my gaze. But I’m not as furious as I thought it would be. Other than the knots in my stomach and the low pounding in the back of my skull, I know this has been a long time coming.

Since sending Isabella to the manor and buckling down for the war, I’ve been glancing over my shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“He is the best choice,” Lorenzo stutters, some of the confidence draining from him. “We want to put it to a vote.”

I let my eyes sweep over the room. “Do you all feel this way?”

Murmurs of agreement rise through the room.

I swing my gaze back to Lorenzo, who loses more of his bravado under my unflinching stare. “And why did you want me to be here?”

Lorenzo opens and closes his mouth.

Slowly, I stand up and cross over to him. “Don’t back down now, Lorenzo. I want to hear why you fucking thought that handing over power while we’re still trying to recover from a war is a good idea.”

Beads of sweat form on Lorenzo’s forehead. “I didn’t mean it would happen right now. Obviously, we need to make sure the truce goes into effect first…”

I grab Lorenzo by the scruff of his neck. “Do you know what Blackthornes used to do when there was a mutiny? They’d find the person involved and feed him his own tongue. They’d also break a limb or two just to make sure the point was made.”

A ripple of unease moves through the crowd.

Lorenzo pales. “We need someone strong and focused and dedicated to us. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

I grip him tighter, something low and unpleasant unfurling in the center of my stomach. “Is that so?”

Lorenzo looks over at the others and then back at me. “This is why we have a voting system in place. You said it yourself.”

I bare my teeth at Lorenzo. “Don’t lecture me about a system that I put into place. There’s no room in our ranks for a rat who’ll lead the others to their death.”

Unfortunately, I know why Lorenzo is bringing up the vote. I put it into effect years ago to ensure that no Blackthorne head had too much power over the rest, including myself.

Especially myself.

I’ve been dancing too close to the sun for too long, and I’ve seen what power does to people and how it strips away their very sense of self, turning them into a vessel for greed and malice.

I have no intention of turning into another Blackthorne cautionary tale or an urban legend whispered about in the dead of night. Lorenzo isn’t wrong to point this out to me, but I still want to slam his face into the nearest wall.

It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to throw him onto the floor and pummel him into a pulp. I imagine myself rounding on everyone else in this room and taking them on one by one, but I know it isn’t going to do me any good.

As much as I hate to admit it, they aren’t wrong to demand answers. Nor are they wrong to want someone else at the helm.

Since meeting Isabella, the empire hasn’t had my full attention, and I’ve known it for a while, but letting go has never been easy for me. Even when I know it’s the right thing to do.

Regardless of whether or not I’ve been fully accepted as one of their own, the Blackthornes are my family, the only people I want to ally myself with.

After giving Lorenzo a firm shake, I release him, and he stumbles back in surprise. He’s so startled that he collides with a group of men in the back, and a murmur of confusion rises through the room. I shove one hand into my pocket, and the other makes a vague hand gesture.

“The voting system was put into place for a reason,” I say in a strange voice. “If anyone invokes it, it shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

Silence stretches over the room.

“After the truce has gone into effect, and our enemies fall into line once and for all, there will be a vote,” I add, with another quick look around the room. “Remember that the vote has to be unanimous, or it doesn’t go into effect.”

Several startled looks are exchanged. Lorenzo is still sputtering in the background, but I ignore him.

When no one says anything, I pull my jacket on and make a beeline for the door. It takes Ernesto and Tristan a few moments to catch up to me. I wrench the car door open, settle into the back, and count backward from ten. There’s still a low thrumming in my ears when Ernesto twists to back out of the alley. As soon as he merges onto the main road, he adjusts himself and places both hands on the wheel.

Tristan turns to look at me. “What was that?”

“I should ask you the same fucking thing. You didn’t even have the decency to tell me the truth?”

Tristan’s jaw tightens. “I knew they were discussing a vote, but I didn’t think they were going to go through with it. With everything else happening, I thought it would be better not to bother you with this.”

I press my lips together and give Tristan a pointed look.

Tristan runs a hand over his face, and his face falls. “We’ll figure something out. Ernesto and I won’t vote to have you removed. I’m sure I can convince Paul—”

I hold a hand up. “That’s not how this works. You need to do what’s best for the family.”

Tristan drops his hand, and his eyes widen. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” My voice is calm and even, and I can hardly believe it.

But Tristan and I both know the truth about where my loyalties are, and I can’t sit there and pretend otherwise. Not with a daughter on the way. In a few months, Isabella and I are going to be married, and shortly after she gives birth, I know the last of my defenses will melt away.

As will any pretense that I am still fit to lead the Blackthornes. Realizing that I no longer am doesn’t make me as angry as I thought it would.

Tristan’s face is flush with anger. “You can’t just give up. Lorenzo is an idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

I shrug. “Maybe, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Daniel is a good fit.”

“He doesn’t know how to handle a big city,” Tristan protests a little too loudly. “He has no idea how to handle the big leagues.”

I pour myself a drink, mind still reeling with the events of the day. “Does this mean you’ve reconsidered?”

Ernesto shoots Tristan a sharp look before swerving, causing some of my liquid to slosh over the rim of the glass.

Tristan clears his throat. “No, I haven’t reconsidered.”

I tip my glass in Tristan’s direction. “I don’t think you need to worry about your position. Daniel already knows how valuable you are. You’ll be taken care of.”

Tristan frowns. “Why are you acting like they’ve already voted? There’s still time.”

I eye Tristan over the rim. “Do you remember what my dad used to say about quitters?”

Tristan blinks. “Quitters aren’t losers. Uncle Nico used to say it was important to know when it’s time to quit and walk away and when it’s time to fight harder.”

I nod and take a long sip of my drink. “Exactly.”

Tristan stares at me for a long time, the protest still on the tip of his tongue.

Eventually, he twists to face the front, and I take a few more sips of my drink. The pounding in the back of my skull has spread to include the rest of my head. I get out of the car before we pull to a complete stop outside of Anita’s house. It isn’t until I’m at the foot of the stairs that I realize there’s a lone figure hunched on the stairs.

And when she throws the hood back, and I realize it’s Isabella, I make a low noise in the back of my throat. I catch her on the last step as she stumbles and collides with my chest. Exhaling, I crush her to me and inhale the sweet scent of her.

Suddenly, the shitty day I’ve had doesn’t seem to matter. Not with Isabella clinging to me like her life depends on it, like nothing in the world matters.

“I’m not leaving you again, Carter,” Isabella says into my ear. “I won’t, and I need you to know that. I made that mistake once because I was scared and confused, and I thought I didn’t have a choice.”

I pull back to look at her, and my stomach clenches. “What are you talking about?”

Isabella’s expression is solemn, and she unlinks her fingers from around my neck. “When I first found out I was pregnant, I thought that I had to leave. Because I told myself that you were never going to change.”

I press my lips into a thin white line.

“But I know better now,” Isabella adds quickly. “Over the past few weeks, I’ve seen a different side of you, something I didn’t think was possible. When you called me earlier, I thought something happened.”

“Something did happen. Something always happens.” I lace my fingers through Isabella’s and pull her inside. Quietly, she allows me to lead her into the backyard. There, I pause to flick on the lights, and we sit on the bottom of the steps, a smattering of stars sprinkled above us.

A cool breeze wafts past, and I exhale. Everything feels different, more concrete.

And I have so much more to lose than I’ve ever had before.

“I know you don’t like to talk about your past or the kind of life you had before the Blackthornes adopted you,” Isabella murmurs, pausing to bring her head to rest against my arm. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I want you to know that you can.”

I squeeze her hand. “I know.”

With a sigh, Isabella draws back to look at me, and I twist to hold her gaze. “I’m not just saying that, Carter. I know you and I didn’t meet under normal circumstances, and it feels like we’ve been on the run pretty much since we’ve known each other, but it doesn’t have to be like that.”

I stare at her for so long that it feels like something in me unfurls and snaps.

“We don’t have to be like that,” Isabella continues in a clearer voice. “We’ve both got issues. Who doesn’t? But as long as we show up and keep choosing each other, everything else will work itself out.”

“You’re nothing at all like Brooke.”

Isabella reels back as if she’s been slapped. “What?”

I lift her hand to my lips for a kiss. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. The two of you look alike, but Brooke had a mean streak. It’s actually one of the reasons why I was drawn to her.”

Isabella’s brows furrow together. “I don’t understand.”

Neither do I, and I’m not sure why I’m telling Isabella any of this, but I want her to understand. For the first time since meeting Isabella, I want her to take a peek at all of my skeletons, past and present, and I want her to see the broken twelve-year-old who was plucked out of the darkness.

I want her to see the man I am, not the one I pretend to be. I have no idea why it’s suddenly so important to me that she does.

“Everyone else tiptoed around me when I first came here,” I tell Isabella with a frown. “I have no idea how much my parents told them about my upbringing, but I’m guessing they told them enough. Tristan was the only one who treated me like a person, not some fucking China doll. Then there was Brooke.”

Isabella takes both of my hands in hers and waits.

I blow out a breath. “Brooke didn’t treat me like I was some fragile or broken boy, but she wasn’t completely horrible either. Still, she was nicer to me than she was to the others…”

Isabella’s expression softens. “I’m guessing that was a big deal for her.”

I nod. “It’s part of the reason why I was drawn to her. Her mean streak felt familiar, and it was something I was used to.”

Isabella’s expression falls, and she inches closer to me. “I’m so sorry, Carter.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t feel like I deserved anything else, and I didn’t know anything else either.”

Brooke was a familiar lifeline in a sea of unfamiliarity, but it’s taken me too long to recognize my attachment to her for what it was.

A desperate and sad attempt to cling to what I knew. What I’d always known.

“You deserve more, Carter,” Isabella tells me, squaring her shoulders. “I don’t know how Brooke felt about you, and I can’t pretend to understand the relationship the two of you had, but I’m not her. I’m not going to treat you like that.”

I brush my thumb along the inside of her wrist. “I know.”

“You deserve kindness and compassion and empathy, and someday you’re going to allow yourself to recognize that,” Isabella continues, her eyes filling with tears as her words pour out of her. “And when that day comes, I’m going to be right there. Your daughter and I are going to be right there.”

I pull Isabella into my arms and kiss her soundly. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more.

With Isabella, there are parts of myself that I’d long since given up on that are finding their way back into the light. Maybe there’s some fucking hope for me yet.

Brooke was my lifeline in the darkness, a familiar tether to keep me from drifting, but Isabella is more than that. She’s light at the end of a very long tunnel, and I’m so fucking lucky to have found her.

When she angles her head to deepen the kiss, someone clears their throat.

With a growl, I pull away and give Tristan a withering look. “This better be important.”

“There’s been an attack on the docks. Donahue is behind it.”

Ice settles in my veins as Isabella’s arms fall, and I jump to my feet. “Fucking Donahue. Call the others and have them meet us there. Daniel too. It’s time we squash that little cockroach once and for all.”