Shattered Dreams (Shadow Souls MC Book 2) (3 page)

Chapter Six

James pushed his hair back from his face and considered the options before him. On the one hand
, Richard was practically offering his daughter up to him on a platter, and the girl did nothing to resist. She would not be a challenge. She would not present any fight or struggle. She would be easy—that was no fun.

However, at the same time, she was there and would give him a lot of things that he wanted: money, power, position, legitimacy. The married man received a lot more sympathy than the unmarried one. A bachelor was often seen as a climber, ambitious beyond all reason, walking over people without any care for them. However, the married man… The married man had a family, the calming and soothing influence of a wife, and the potential for children. The married man had something to lose, something to motivate him besides power and desire—even if his only ambition was power and desire.

He wanted a wife who would match him in his ambitions, drives, and goals. However, that type of woman was rare. All the girls in his circle were trained to be one thing and one thing only: empty. They never had any substance or depth. They were tools of the trade and nothing more. And Sierra was nothing more.

Although, he did remember her from before her disappearance. She was stubborn and vibrant and passionate. She took on the appearance of a hundred different counter-culture movements in some attempt to create herself. She was rebelling against something. He wondered whether there was any part of that girl still hiding under the exterior she presented. He considered whether she could become a partner, someone he could truly trust and talk with openly, someone who was his true supporter in the complicated dealings of drugs and organized crime.

He didn’t think she could be that girl. Perhaps that girl didn’t exist anymore—not in her, not in anyone. However, he knew he would marry her.

He straightened his tie and looked at himself in the mirror. He needed her father to be under control, so he would marry her. Plus, by marrying her, he would have someone to warm his bed and to make sure he was giving enough money away. James knew that there was nothing like donating to charity to deflect negative attention from a criminal, some of the biggest donors in the world were criminals.

Prepared, he went to his car and drove to where he was meeting Sierra. He made sure all of their meeting places were public and open. It would dissuade anyone from thinking poorly of them and also to make sure everyone knew she was a taken woman. These shows of dominance, display, and ownership were necessary in his world, since nothing was less progressive than the rich and mighty.

She was already waiting for him with her empty smile and blank eyes; but, as always, he almost thought he could see a glimmer of something else, something that wasn’t allowed for him.

“Miss Hall, so lovely to see you,” he called, waving to her across the half-empty restaurant. He sat down, adjusting his clothing and taking a small box out of his pocket. He placed it on the table nonchalantly trying to see her reaction, but she barely seemed to notice anything.

“How are you today?”

“Quite fine. And you?”

“Much better now that I’m here with you.”

He forced a small smile to stay on his face. She never had anything to say, except what was expected from her. He wondered if he bring something more alive out of her. Before he even had a chance to think about what he was doing, he asked her, “Why are you so closed off?”

“Excuse me?”

“You sit over there like a little doll, saying everything and doing everything exactly how you should. Are you anything else?”

She stared at him. Her eyes flashed for a moment with a look of darkness and fear, a look of something deeper. The corner of her lip curled upwards a small bit, in acknowledgement of her change. Then, her eyes emptied again and her lips turned back into the slightly puckered, slightly opened look of innocent seduction. “I don’t understand. Are you not happy? It isn’t like we are dating. You can walk out whenever.”

James was confused by what had just happened. There was something deeper to this prodigal daughter, but she wasn’t going to share it with him anytime soon. He needed to know what it was. He smiled back at her and slid the box closer to her. She opened it to see a stunning diamond tennis bracelet. “I was wondering, Sierra Hall, if you would like to start something official.”

Chapter Seven

Chad stared at the bottom of yet another bottle
and wondered what he doing. He didn’t have anywhere else to be, and Sierra was gone. Completely gone. Never coming back—gone. She was just as gone as Scott was, except in this instance she was also tantalizingly close as well. If he reached out, he could almost reach her, touch her soft skin, and smooth back her thick hair from her forehead.

He had ruined everything in his life. He had been wandering around, trying to get back to Las Vegas where his car was, so he could go find her. It felt like every few minutes his fingers hovered above the screen of his phone, almost calling her, almost texting her, telling her he was sorry. However, it would do no good. She had left him.

He didn’t actually know where she had gone, but he had a few guesses about her whereabouts. From everything he knew about Sierra, she probably had run to somewhere new and far away from everyone she had ever known, so she could start over again. She would never tell anyone where she had gone. Hell, for all he knew, she had ditched her phone and changed her number. His chance had slipped away.

He could claim there that she held part of the blame—for forcing him to keep these secrets, for overreacting—but he knew the blame was on him. He fell for her and saw her as his perfect angel of redemption; so, he decided to keep these secrets and lie to her. Everything about their relationship was built on a lie.

Some small part of him knew he was still in danger and that there was even a small chance that Sierra was in danger; but, his mind would not bring itself to think about that. It felt too selfish and cowardly to think about what he wanted, felt, and needed. Yet, what else was he doing, except indulging in self-pity and self-loathing.

He needed to find some sort of path and something to do with his time. He knew she had to find some way to start fixing whatever meager bit of life he had left. He knew that the Shadow Souls would be out to get him, and he didn’t really have anyone else to go to. He stumbled out of the bar and blinked wearily at the sun, wondering how long he had been in there.

He knew there was a bus depot somewhere and decided that he had to get back to California. He needed to find something to take his mind off Sierra.

After drunkenly slurring his way through purchasing a ticket and stumbling on to the bus, he was on his way—back to Orange County. He fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the bus was pulling into the last stop. He stumbled off the bus, still a little drunk and a lot hung-over. Somehow, he managed to get to his apartment and lock himself in his bedroom.

Then, the tears came. He collapsed on his bed and cried, like when he held Scott’s body on the pavement. There was nothing he could do and nothing he could say. He didn’t know how to go on. The sense of loss overwhelmed him, pressed against him, and burned him through, searing his soul. She was gone.

The next morning, he was a changed man. The pain of losing her, and not just her, but everyone else as well, was still there. It was sharp, poignant, and central to his every thought. However, instead of just being his world of pain, it began to be his motivation. He would make sure he was as good as could be so that he could hope that one day, maybe, he would be back in her good graces, back to where she could laugh with him again and give him that one precious smile that lit up his world in a way he didn’t know was possible.

He called her. It was still her number, thankfully, but she didn’t pick up, and it went to voicemail. “Sierra. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but please listen. Yes, I was more involved in Scott’s death than I first told you, but it was an accident. And…and I love you. I am lost without you. Please, can we just meet and talk?”

The first seed placed, he turned to the news and online gossip articles. He needed to know what the lay of the land looked like. He was barely three minutes into his research when he found something shocking.

She was here. She had come back to California, and all her pictures were with James Northorp. He couldn’t believe that this was what was happening. Dread dropped over him like a waterfall. He wondered what happened to her and why she had come back to the place she hated most in the entire world. He knew something had changed and the vibrant, rebellious girl that he knew only a few weeks ago was gone. Suddenly, she had become a pawn of the lords of crime in Southern California. It was like
The Stepford Wives
. This situation was grimmer than he ever expected.

Not to mention, he was at least somewhat familiar with James Northorp. He was another of the crime lords, and he had a lot of money behind him. In fact, he was one of the richest men in the country although no one knew that. Even though he was very rich, his power was somewhat limited and most of his money was inherited. Three or four generations ago, his name carried a lot of weight. However, after some horrific mismanaging and bad decisions, the name lost favor. It seemed like James was trying to bring some credibility back to the Northorp fortune.

Chad heard that James was suave, sophisticated, charming, and wickedly intelligent. Numerous gossip websites and articles listed him as one of the most, if not the most, eligible bachelor in the country. Chad knew that Sierra needed to remember who she was and not get swept up in the chaos and complacency of being someone’s private doll.

Chapter Eight

Sierra’s sadness and grief
gave way to apathy and her apathy was now giving way to a type of happiness. She had a faint memory of true happiness. It involved a man with blue eyes, a wounded ego, and guilt that needed to be eased; but, he was in the past. Two weeks, two years, two decades, it didn’t really matter. He was in the past, and she couldn’t think about him anymore.

Instead, she focused on the world she was currently in. This world included James Northorp, who was charming, attentive, and wonderful. He gave her adorable little gifts—although little gifts from a multi-billionaire tended to be quite extravagant—and played the role he cast himself in perfectly.

He never pressured her, but she made sure he knew she had some power behind her. This was, at its core, a business transaction. He wanted her name and the prestige her family would bring to his business. She wanted to be able to live her life exactly as she saw fit, and she wanted to be clear that she would continue doing that.

For the world, they played the part of a doting couple in love, but they both knew there was no love involved in this interaction, and there probably never would be. Oh, eventually they would get used to each other and grow to like each other; but they would never love each other. Plus, Sierra knew she could never love anyone ever again, not after Chad.

She wasn’t supposed to think about Chad. She would never tell anyone about him. He would remain her private joy and pain.

While love wasn’t part of the equation, she did like James. He was debonair, a Jane Austen hero come to life. Plus, he accepted her terms. It was a beautiful partnership, and he was, at his core, a likeable person, or, at least, a person who presented the most useful persona. For him, with her and at this stage of his life, that persona was a fundamentally nice and likeable guy.

“James?” she asked one day, as they sat at an outdoor café. James’s bodyguard lurked at a table a few away.

“Yes, my darling?”

“Do you think that our relationship will last forever?”

“For as long as you want it to, sweetheart. I am your slave.” He leaned across the table and kissed her gently. It was a closed-mouth, innocent kiss that lacked passion. That was how every kiss was, nothing to excite or create lust or desire.

She pulled away from him and smiled, nodding her head slightly at the paparazzi hiding behind newspapers and building corners. They always thought that they were hiding so well, but she could spot them without even trying.

Not to mention that this whole occasion was completely planned. It was public, yet private; casual, yet constructed. It was perfect.

“On the topic of life together, I have a question for you.” Slowly, he rose, and Sierra could hear the increased clicking of camera buttons in the background. With practiced grace, he lowered himself to one knee while pulling a ring box out of his pocket. “Miss Sierra Hall, would you do me the magnificent honor of taking my hand in marriage?”

Sierra knew it was time to act surprised. She did her best, clasping her hands to her mouth and letting a few tears spring into her eyes. She allowed herself to be rendered speechless. She nodded her head up and down. Then, she offered out her hand.

James reached for it and then smiled. “My dear, this is your right hand.”

She laughed and put forth the correct hand. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He pulled her to her feet and embraced her, giving her a kiss that was almost fervent. “Darling, you have no idea how happy this makes me. We will have a beautiful wedding, full of flowers and important people. It will be wonderful. The whole country will talk about it. Then, we will live a beautiful life.”

She laughed. “You’re such a dear.” She paused. “I love you, James.”

“And I love you, Sierra.”

***

Then, a flurry of wedding planning commenced. James kept trying to push the wedding nearer and nearer. Sierra didn’t resist any of his meddling. She didn’t have any desire to draw the engagement out for too long. She wanted to get on with the next stage of her life quickly. No one raised an eyebrow at their eagerness, they just smiled at their youthful exuberance.

“James?” she asked one night, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her laptop, swatches, forms, and bills spread out around her.

He was reclining on the couch, scrolling through something on his iPad. Sierra did her best to ignore his business interests. There was a brief time when he tried to get her interested and involved, like he wanted her to become part of his criminal business; but, he soon stopped trying because she was openly resistant to any attempt to draw her in. “Mmhmm?”

“Do you know how much we are spending on this wedding?”

“I didn’t give you a budget. Neither did your father. Fulfill all your wildest fantasies. Buy only the best, the greatest, and the biggest. I don’t want to hear numbers.”

“Why?”

He put down the tablet and turned to her. “Because we need the world to know how much we love each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Everything must be planned exactly. I know you don’t have much interest in my business dealings; but, as part of this family, you are part of the business dealings. In the coldest of terms, I am making an investment in you and I want to get the highest return possible. So, I’m willing to put in a lot of money to make sure that happens. I don’t mean that to sound overly cold, but this is what you have agreed to.”

Sierra nodded absently. “Oh, I know. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of how much we are actually spending here.”

“Trust me, I am well aware. I don’t let a single cent of my money be spent without my full knowledge of who, why, where, and how.”

“You know. I think this will be a beautiful partnership.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back. She thought how well everything would work, and she didn’t think about Chad.

***

The main thing Sierra learned on her wedding day was that with enough money and the right attitude, nothing needed to be stressful. She woke up in the morning and—what could only be called handmaidens—attended to her like a queen. There were three of them. One waited with breakfast, one with a robe, and a third with a hairbrush and lotion.

One handmaid said, “Miss Hall, if you could disrobe, I can go ahead and lotion you.”

She slipped out of her silk pajamas and sat where the girl indicated. She was staying in the hotel where the wedding was going to be held. In fact, James had rented the entire hotel for their wedding. All their guests were staying here, even the ones who weren’t from out of town. There was unlimited alcohol, room service, and pay per view, for the people who felt especially lonely after seeing the couple of the year get hitched.

Lotion Handmaid—Sierra hadn’t bothered to ask for their names—was extremely thorough. Her lotion application turned into a full-body massage. Sierra felt very comfortable, as she dined on toast, bacon, and eggs.

Robe Handmaid put the robe on her and started laying out her pre-wedding outfit—a pair of burnt orange capris, a chambray button down shirt, braided leather sandals, and tasteful jewelry. Sierra knew she would go through about seven outfit changes today. At least, that how it seemed to her.

After she was dressed, she would get her hair and nails done. It was about ten right now, she noted as she buttoned up her shirt. The ceremony was at three, reception at seven. This would be a very long day, and she really just wanted to get it over with. There was a lot about this day that she wouldn’t enjoy or look forward to, but she would do it—she had no other choice.

The day passed by in a blur for Sierra. She didn’t really want to engage with the day. Everything just needed to pass by her, so she could get this whole rigmarole over with. After all, the whole thing was just a show. Nothing was real, nothing was substantial. It was simply a business transaction, a cover.

She toyed with the massive diamond ring on her finger. This stupid wedding was costing so much money, just so that James could put credibility behind his name and she could have a safe, comfortable life where she would never have to doubt anything or be afraid of anything except her own thoughts. As of late, those thoughts hadn’t been so bad. They were mostly empty and boring, concerned with the wedding and all the money she was spending.

Her entire body was waxed, free of every undesirable hair. The desired ones were molded into the perfect shape. Then, the bride-to-be was allowed to eat lunch. Sierra was completely at the mercy of her handmaidens. They carted her around from one place to another, chattering about her wedding and how lucky she was and how in love everyone in the whole damn world must be.

When they got to lunch, the table already had seven other girls at it. Sierra looked quizzically at them and then remembered that she was meeting her bridesmaids. Three of them were relatives of James, one a sister, two were cousins, the others were girls she went to school with, theoretically her friends.

A general squeal of delight and excitement came from the gaggle and Sierra smiled, extending her hands toward them. This was her wedding day. She was supposed to be happy and excited. That was why these girls were here.

Although, of course, every single one of these girls were carefully selected because of their family connections and their understanding of the delicate nature of this situation. They were not entirely part of the play, but they definitely knew that this wasn’t all love. Some of them were married, and they had all grown up under the same expectations and the same understanding of what their options were when they grew up. At least this selection understood—that was why they were asked.

Lunched passed in a pleasant hour or so of chatter and banter about inconsequential things—about love, marriage, happiness, the future. This is what Sierra had to look forward to; but, she kind of was. She would be safe, away from everyone and everything.

She left with the bridesmaids and headed back to the hotel where they would all get ready for this ordeal. Sierra hated all the pomp and circumstance, not just for the wedding, but for everything. So, she put on the thirty-thousand-dollar-dress and let a make-up artist from Hollywood airbrush her. She looked gorgeous, but plastic.

She had left her phone behind all day, but one of the handmaidens brought it to her and said, “You’ve been getting calls and texts from the same number all day.”

Sierra knew the number would be someone she didn’t exactly want to talk to. Someone who had betrayed her, hurt her, caused her a lot of pain. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t be here now. He was going to try to stop her from going through with this; but, she would, if for no other reason than to just spite him. The winner was the one whose life ended better. She was marrying a wealthy, influential, eligible bachelor. Everything would be fine.

“Keep it in the wedding suite. I don’t need that stress today. It’ll just keep dinging all day and night. I want to focus on my future.” She tossed a perfectly curled lock over her shoulder and smiled at her reflection.