Read Very Bad Things Online

Authors: Ilsa Madden-Mills

Very Bad Things (32 page)

 

 

Seduce
by Missy Johnson is now available at

Amazon
and all major online retailers.

 

Twenty-five year old Jack Falcon doesn’t do relationships,
and why would he when he has woman after woman literally throwing themselves at
him? For Jack, life is perfect just the way it is. He works hard and he plays
harder.

Jack’s life changes when he meets Belle. Unlike any woman
he’s ever met, there is something about this girl that makes him unable to keep
away, something beyond the youthful beauty and her innocent spirit. Belle is
strong and independent, a big leap from the usual brainless chicks he tends to
attract.

Jack begins a dangerous game. He is determined to seduce
Belle, and without realizing it, his feelings for her develop beyond anything
he has ever felt before. Things become complicated when he learns there are
good reasons as to why he should stay the hell away from her.

How can you stay away from someone you want to spend every
waking minute with? And what do you do when you know eventually you will
destroy that person?

As their feelings for each other deepen, Jack struggles with
his own internal demons which threaten to rip them apart. Jack is torn between
following his heart and listening to his head, which keeps telling him he is
not good enough for her. She deserves better than what he can give her.

How far will he push before they both fall over the edge?

 

Excerpt:

 

“SURE, UH,
CATHERINE. Help yourself,” I said, buckling up my pants. Judging from the
expression on her pretty little face, I’d gotten her name wrong. Shit. It was
all coming back to me. Catherine was last night. This was Mandy, or Mindy. I
reached for her hand, trying to pretend I actually gave a shit.

“Sorry baby, I’m not good with names,” I
murmured as I moved closer to her. With my hand gripping her jaw, I tilted her
head just enough so that I could run my tongue along her neck. I could feel her
annoyance melt away at my touch. “Help yourself to room service, anything you
want. I’ll call you when my meeting is finished.”

She rolled over onto her back stretching
out her long, lean body as she smiled at me. I wouldn’t be calling her, and I’m
sure on some level she knew that. That makes me sound like a dick, but
truthfully, she had gotten just as much out of the night as I had. I’d made her
feel like she was the only girl in the world for me, when really, there were
dozens just like her who were ready to jump in my bed. I made no secret about
who I was or what I wanted, and honestly, any woman willing to go home with me
knew what to expect.

I was Britain’s most eligible bachelor, the
youngest son of property magnate Eric Falcon. My reputation with women was well
documented in all the gossip pages in every magazine, one of which only last
week stated I gave more respect to my pet cat than I did to the many women I
dated.

What can I say? I love my cat.

Really, I’m not as bad as my reputation
makes me out to be. In fact, I’d go as far to describe myself as a decent guy.
I just have no interest in a relationship that extends beyond a quick fuck when
it suits me. I really don’t see how it’s my fault or problem if a chick falls
for my boyish charms. Every woman seems to think she can change me, that she
has something all the other notches on my belt didn’t have. They’re usually the
ones that hang around too long, fall in love with me end up stalking me (I’ve
only once had to employ a restraining order).

The thing is, I’m happy being me and I sure
as fuck won’t change for anyone. I don’t need fixing because I'm not broken. I
simply work hard and play harder. Things are great. I was exactly where I wanted
to be at Twenty-Five years old.

 

 

I EXITED THE lift
on the ground floor of
The Briston
, home to one of the many flats I
owned around London. This particular residence was one I specifically used for
entertaining. I avoided taking women home whenever possible, mainly because I
wanted to keep things as impersonal as possible. And secondly, because
excessive female company upset Mr. Jefferies.

I wasn’t kidding about the cat.

You’d be forgiven for not picking me as the
cat type. Mr. Jefferies had been part of my life for two years, after I found
him in a drain pipe behind my building as a wet, shivering kitten. Initially I
had just planned to drop him off at the shelter, but after three days living it
up with Jack Falcon, it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere. The newspaper
probably wasn’t far off, I do treat Mr. Jefferies with more respect than some
of the women I date, but in his defence he’s worked for it, whereas they
haven’t.

Dropping to your knees before you’ve even
told me your name doesn’t gain you my respect. All that does is make me want to
treat you like the piece of shit you obviously consider yourself to be. If
you’ve got no respect for yourself, then why should you expect it from me? It
sounded harsh, but sometimes the truth hurts.

 

 

For more information about Missy Johnson and her books, visit:

 

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Thursday
Nights
is now available at

Amazon
and other ebook retailer sites

 

Pain can leave even the strongest of people weak and hollow.
But when fate brings two weak souls together, will the love they find mend the
fragments that are barely holding them together, or will the weight of their
past finally cause them to crumble? Max DeLucca has spent seven years trying to
forget the betrayal of his past. He lives his life from day to day never
looking forward and never looking back. The walls around his heart keep anyone
from getting too close and prevent him from feeling too much…until he meets
her. Her entire life, Janie Silver searched for the kind of love that wouldn’t
leave her broken and more importantly, wouldn't leave her behind. She longs for
a love that can heal the wounds of her past and give her the future she knows
she deserves. She thought she was looking for something that just didn’t
exist…until she meets him. Danny’s on Main is where their story begins. A
neighborhood bar where strangers become friends, friends become family and some
… become lovers … it all started on Thursday Nights

 

*Warning – this book is intended for mature audiences only.
Descriptive sexual situations are included in this story.

**This sexy, steamy contemporary romance will leave you
yearning for more. Which is perfect since this is the first book in the
Charistown series. Even though this is a series, each book can be read as a standalone
novel.

 

 

 

 

Seven
Years Earlier

 

 

IT WAS TIME to start moving on.

It had been six months since Max found out his wife had been
cheating on him, again, and was having a baby with the bastard. Six months
since she’d left him standing in the driveway, watching her leave. Six months
since her car was sideswiped, and the woman he had spent more than ten years
loving, was killed. He hated what she’d done to him; but he’d spent those
months mourning the loss of the life he knew and the woman he loved. No more.

Max slid his feet into his boots and headed for the kitchen.
Swiping his keys and wallet off the counter, he opened the door to his
apartment and came face-to-face with his deceased wife’s parents. Two people who
had hated him for years.

“Oh, Max…” Mrs. Smyth stammered, “We were just about to
knock.”

Through the anxious and claustrophobic feeling overwhelming
him, Max found his voice, “I was just heading out for the night. Is there
something I can do for you?”

Mr. Smyth looked down at him with sad but serious eyes,
“Just a half hour of your time…please, Max.”

Being six foot three, there were few people taller than Max,
but Mr. Smyth was one of them. Back in the day, he swore that his father-in-law
loved looking down on him in more ways than just physically. Max’s mind was
reeling, the man had even said
please
. He didn’t want to be with these
people, but his curiosity kept him standing still. What could they possibly
have to say that he’d want to hear? Yet, how could he say no to the only thing
they had ever asked of him?

Max nodded and led his former in-laws into the main room of
his new apartment. He paced the floor, making a path on the newly laid carpet
as he tried to contain his breath, and steeled himself for the reason of their
surprise visit.

“Max,” said Mrs. Smyth, or Gina, as she now insisted on
being called. “We know you probably don’t have anything to say to us. Lord
knows you probably don’t want to hear anything we have to say… but we’ve been
trying to get in touch with you for almost six months.”

He stopped pacing and looked at the woman who stood in front
of him. Her platinum hair was perfectly coiffed and her designer clothes,
professionally pressed. The diamonds in her ears and on her left hand were probably
worth more than what he made in a year. She was the model image of what money
could
buy, but when his gaze traveled up to her face he saw that time had not been
kind. Gina looked tired and old; the deep purple smudges under her eyes spoke
of the sleepless nights Max himself knew so well.

“You have my attention, Gina,” Max said with a little too
much bite. Harvey reached for his wife and gently guided her to sit down on the
couch.

“Chloe was always…troubled,” Gina started to explain as Max
sat on the chair facing the couple, “She was the reason we moved from Texas to
Pennsylvania in the first place. Chloe suffered from depression. She was
emotionally needy and, when it suited her, manipulative. Back in Texas, she had
a boyfriend, and when they broke up she swore the boy had harmed her.”

Max watched the grimace on Harvey’s face as he picked up
where Gina left off. “Chloe had threatened to kill herself if she had to see
the boy at school anymore. Coincidently, a job position had opened up in
Pennsylvania when all this was happening, so we decided to make the move and
give her a fresh start.”

The man paused to assess Max’s expression. Blank.

“Of course, we weren’t here a full week before she met you,”
Harvey added without a bit of animosity, “I did some asking around and heard
you were a good kid, so I stepped back.”

“Then why did you hate me so much?” Max finally asked the
question that had tugged at him for years.

Looking at each other, and then turning sympathetic eyes to
Max, Chloe’s parents said in unison, “We didn’t.”

Max pulled his fingers through his hair in frustration as
his heart began to thrum in his chest. “What the hell? I saw the way you looked
at me. You never accepted me or my relationship with your daughter.” He could
feel the flush rising in his neck, “Chloe said so herself!”

Harvey quietly leaned forward, hands on the knees of his
designer suit, “Son…”

“I am
not
your son,” Max insisted, his voice loud but
shaking. Standing, he clenched his fists, knuckles white. “You hated me. You
never once looked me in the eye. You even disowned her for marrying me. I’ve
never been anything to you,” Max spat. “Why are you here?” His voice was a
shout now, the emotion becoming harder and harder to tamp down.

“Sit down, Max.” Harvey’s eyes pleaded, but his voice was
firm, “You need to hear what we have to say, and then I promise; you will never
have to see us again.”

Not knowing what else to do, Max sat back down but didn’t
release his fists. Harvey inhaled deeply, laced his fingers with Gina’s, and
continued.

“We knew you loved our daughter from the first moment we saw
the way you looked at her. You were still just a boy, but your devotion to her
was that of a man. But we also saw the other side of the relationship—her side.
When the two of you were still in high school and she’d be alone in her room on
the phone with her friends,” Harvey said thoughtfully, “she would say how she
had you wrapped around her finger. That was
when Gina and I finally
admitted that Chloe had bigger problems than depression. We felt horrible that
we let it get so out of control and that you got wrapped up in a mess that we
maybe could’ve stopped.” Harvey looked at a silent Max, an emotion on his face
that Max had never seen there before—embarrassment.

Gina’s gentle voice permeated the fog that was taking over
Max’s thoughts. “We tried to talk to her, we begged her to stop seeing you. But
she told us to mind our own business. She said she loved you and this time was
going to be different. We wanted to believe her…we really did. Then we started
to hear the way she manipulated you about
your going away to college
.
She didn’t want you to go. We hoped you would leave anyway, but you didn’t.
When we told your parents our fears, they agreed to talk to you. But honey,
nothing worked.”

Max couldn’t believe his ears. His parents had met with
Chloe’s? Why didn’t they ever tell him?
Would you have listened?
His
inner voice asked, even though he already knew the answer. After all, he never
went to West Chester University, did he?

Gina continued her account of the past. “We’d hoped she
would finally let go of you when she went away to college herself, but that was
when she told us she planned to marry you. All the while she was seeing other
guys behind your back.” Gina looked down at her hands, “When we threatened to
tell you about her cheating, she just laughed and said, ‘Tell him! He loves me,
he’ll never believe you.’ That was the same summer you and Chloe moved in
together.” Max thought back—it was the summer that she told him she wanted to
get married.

“My God,” Max whispered his voice breaking, “I was no more
than a toy to her; a puppet.” He walked over to his liquor cabinet and poured
himself a healthy shot of bourbon. His stomach felt tight as he looked at the
two people on his sofa.
How was this happening? How could he have been so
blind?
He tried to focus on the familiar taste of the amber liquid and its
slow burn down his throat, into his belly, instead of the sharp pain of the
words flying out of the Smyths’ mouths like darts, each one hitting the red
bull’s-eye.

Eyes glassy with unshed tears, Gina explained how over the
years they’d kept in touch with Max’s parents because Chloe refused to return
their phone calls or answer their letters. She had always managed to cash their
monthly checks though.

“What? You were sending her money? I don’t understand. She
never told—” Max’s brain was on overload.

“No, Max,” Harvey said in a deep voice laced with pain. “We
were sending
both of you
money; large amounts actually. The checks were
written in both of your names; yet every time we spoke to your parents, they
would tell us how hard you were working to make ends meet so you could one day
buy your wife the house of her dreams. We never told your parents about the
money we sent, but our bank statements showed the checks had been deposited. I
don’t know why we kept sending it…” Harvey looked at his perfectly shined shoes
and sighed, “I guess it allowed us to feel like we were still part of her life
in some way.” Max stood and walked to the counter, his hand shaking as he
poured another drink, “We must have sent over a million dollars in the ten
years that you lived together.”

Max choked on his alcohol.
A million dollars? Christ!

“Where did she put the money? What was she saving it for?”
Max’s mouth asked the questions, but his heart already knew the answer, “She
was saving it for when she left me, wasn’t she?” he asked quietly. He paused
and looked at the guilty faces staring back at him. “Wasn’t she?” he yelled.

The boom of his voice visibly startled Chloe’s parents, but
they made no move to answer his question. They didn’t have to—the writing was
on the wall. They knew she hadn’t told him about the checks, yet they continued
to give her money. They knew somewhere in their heart of hearts that betrayal
would be her end game, and they stood back and stayed silent.

“Max…” Gina spoke so quietly Max had to focus to hear her,
“I know our words must hold no value to you, but we had no idea that Chloe was
hiding the money. We didn’t even think to look for it until after she died. At
the hospital, when you announced that she was carrying another man’s baby…well,
that was the first we had heard about her cheating on you since you’d gotten
married. We always hoped that she’d stopped once you were married, and while we
weren’t surprised by her behavior, honey, we were horrified by the consequences
of her actions. She really did hurt one of the nicest, kindest, most trusting
men around. There are not enough
I’m sorry’s
to make up for our regret.”

Max’s heart was pounding. He could hear the blood flowing
through his ears, and he couldn’t
think of anything coherent to say. He
just stood there, holding his glass and staring at the amber liquid in front of
him.

Harvey and Gina stood up and walked over to Max; tears
inched down both of their tired, pained faces. Harvey placed an envelope on the
counter next to the bourbon.

“Here are the documents regarding the bank account where
Chloe kept the money. Everything has been changed over into your name. You may
not want it now, but it is your money. Thank you for loving our daughter. We’re
sorry that it came at such an awful expense for so many years. Hopefully, one
day, happiness will find you…until then, we hope this helps.”

The man patted him on the shoulder, and then the soft click of
the apartment door told him he was alone.

That was exactly how he intended to stay
.

 

 

JANIE BLEW ON her Grande Starbucks
as she waited for her friend to arrive. Watching people order their complicated
drinks and seeing the annoyed baristas roll their eyes at the incorrect
ordering procedure always reminded her of the Seinfeld episode with the Soup
Nazi. The thought made her smile as she sipped her cup of liquid energy. Even
in a small shop just outside Philadelphia, the crowd was big and anxious.

The ease of the moment seeped out of Janie’s body only to be
replaced with tension as a woman’s voice shouted, “Come on, kid, move! I don’t
have time for your crap!” The only thing more upsetting than the sound of the
irritation coming from the mother’s voice was the look of complete surrender on
the little girl’s face. When her tear-filled brown eyes met Janie’s, Janie
could feel her heartbeat quicken, and the memory crashed into her like a wave,
pulling her under and keeping her there.

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