Fable's Foes, page 2
part #2 of Grimm Tales of Smoky Vale Series
I had already packed one bag, and I was making good progress on another when a sharp knock came at the door.
“It’s open!” I called out.
The door pushed open, and our butler, Hans, formally dressed in a suit, stood in the opening. There wasn’t much to like about this house, but Hans was different. Even when he was being formal, he always gave me the impression that he cared.
“Mr. Fable, your father wants to see you in his office immediately.”
“Tell him I’ll be there in a bit, Hans.”
“He said right this minute, sir.”
“Fine.” I sighed and grabbed the zipper on the bag. Whatever I needed, I could come back for anyway.
I barreled past Hans, who stared at me, his mouth opening and closing several times like he wanted to say something. When he didn’t, I continued down the stairs, turned left, and walked along the hall to my father’s home office.
Nervous excitement fluttered in my tummy. For me, this was big. Having a politician for a father and a mother who placed her ambitions ahead of her son’s needs had always rubbed me wrong. For the first time, I had the chance to do something about it.
I rapped sharply once on the office door, then without waiting for a response entered. The tension in the room was so thick I came up short. A pair of heads turned in my direction. Mother glared in the way she normally did when she was disappointed. Father looked paler than usual, his eyes appearing owlish in his face.
From them, I looked over at Daddy, who avoided my eyes. He didn’t have a reassuring smile, didn’t hold out his hand. Nothing. Finally he raised his head, and our gazes held.
I froze at the coldness in his eyes. No warmth he’d showed me earlier as he diapered my bottom. He had a smirk on his face that made no sense.
This wasn’t the man who held me in his arms and patiently cut my food into tiny bites to feed me. This wasn’t the man who taught me that being a little was nothing to be ashamed of.
He looked at me like we hadn’t fucked in his bedroom right before he’d given me a bath and I’d slipped into little mode.
I knew something horrible had happened. And whatever it was, it was clearly my fault.
“You naïve, foolish boy,” Mother growled, breaking the silence in the room. “What have you done? You’ve just ruined us all.”
Chapter One
Fable
“For far too long, Smoky Vale has been run by criminals wearing badges in the form of tattoos and terrorizing our streets with the loudness of their motorcycles. For far too long, innocent citizens have been caught up in the conflict between them, dying at the hands of these monsters. But enough is enough. If you want us to get rid of these motorcycle clubs once and for all and live peaceably without fear, then vote for me, Gerald Wentworth, for mayor!”
I shifted my weight from foot to foot, wincing at the thunderous applause that followed my father’s official announcement that he was running for re-election.
He’d already spent one term in office, during which he hadn’t carried out any of those things he mentioned in his speech, but what did the citizens of Smoky Vale care? Father’s speechwriter was skilled and thorough. He’d targeted areas that the community was passionate about.
I’d grown up hearing the stories of the motorcycle clubs that ran Smoky Vale. Although Father would never admit it, he, the police department, and other state agencies were nothing but pawns. He hated the guts of these motorcycle clubs, but he’d never go up against them toe to toe. He condemned them from the comfort of his home and carefully guarded venues like this one.
What would change when he won office again? Exactly nothing. The streets would continue to be unsafe at night. Not that I’d seen much of it firsthand.
My mother had married my stepdad when I was three, and he was the only father I knew. Growing up with him meant hearing about his political views, even long before he became so involved in politics. For as long as I could remember, we’d lived a guarded life.
I hated it. All the careful security made it difficult for me to be myself. My parents always reminded me that the whole world—an exaggeration, since Smoky Vale was just a small town— was watching. One wrong move on my part could jeopardize their chances of remaining in power.
A sharp elbow jabbed into my side, and I gasped. My mother glared at me, even while her lips stretched into a smile.
“Don’t slouch,” she griped at me from between clenched teeth. “And would it kill you to smile? Is that any way to treat the man who took you in and raised you like his son?”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, straightening my spine in my stuffy suit. “I’ll do better.”
“You see that you do, and don’t make me ask again.”
Father turned toward us, his eyebrows narrowed in question. I smiled at him and nodded. Mother was right, of course. I should be grateful he’d taken me as his son when he and my mother met only a few months before they got married. He had even opted to adopt me so I didn’t have to be just a stepson to him. He was a kind man who believed he could make the streets safe again.
Too bad I only saw him as an idealistic man who had no experience with the realities out there. He’d rejected my reality, and now I struggled with what I felt for him.
There was some amount of affection because he’d been good to me, even when Mother just criticized and harped about what a disappointment I was. But at the same time, how could I be okay, knowing he’d sided with her about denying me my deepest desire?
I kept the smile plastered on my face while I pretended to listen as Father thanked those who supported him and invited the chief of police to take the stand. The man fully endorsed Father’s wish to remove the biker gangs from Smoky Vale, and Chief Dehaney pledged the support of the police force to ensure that happened.
Dehaney seemed like a good man, but he wasn’t as idealistic as my father. He spoke about the realism of needing time to weed out the members of the different biker clubs, which had to be done lawfully. He even admitted this meant looking into their organization to find anyone who might be connected to the biker clubs.
The man was so mesmerizing that even I listened to him. Eventually, I got bored, though, when a few of my father’s other friends took the podium to make their pledges of support. I didn’t doubt that he would win, even with the other candidate who’d recently announced he was running against Father.
Soon enough, the speeches wrapped up, and then came the part I hated. Making small talk with people when we had nothing in common. The one friend I had in Smoky Vale had gotten out when he accepted a scholarship to study in Europe. Given the different time zones, our friendship had slipped into nonexistence.
I gritted my teeth in sufferance and tried to keep the smile, nodding politely and listening to how much me being gay helped my father’s campaign. Apparently, he didn’t hesitate to exploit my sexuality to reach the population that was anything but straight.
After a couple of drinks, I reached for the third, but a hand plucked the stem from my hand.
“Uh-uh, hon. A little too much to drink, don’t you think?”
My throat tightened, and I dropped my hand. I took my time to raise my head and meet Claud’s eyes. Overcome with emotions, I couldn’t readily respond. I hated him with every fiber of my being. Everything had gone so well until he’d ruined it. I should never have pressed him that day to visit my parents and convince them that we wanted to be together. I got what I wanted, but I wasn’t happy about it. How could I be when I hated my Daddy?
Yet I wanted everything he stood for so much. Even knowing it wasn’t sincere, I craved the praises, the petting, and all the grown-up things he did for me when I wanted to be a little. And because I knew no one else like him, I felt compelled to seek him out to fulfill those needs, even when I hated him.
He was a liar. A master manipulator. But he knew what a little needed.
He was perfect as my father’s campaign manager. A perfect scum.
“I don’t have to talk to you,” I said.
“Now you sound like a petulant child,” he replied, his tone amused. “Do I need to put you across my knees too and spank you like one?”
I hated being spanked as a little, and the bastard knew it.
“No.” I lowered my gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
I scanned the room, checking to ensure no one was close to us. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I said quietly for his ears alone.
“Good boy.”
My heart skipped a beat as it always did when he called me a good boy. They were the two most effective words to work on me. My stomach churned acidic bile that rose in my throat. I swallowed it back with great difficulty. My mother would kill me if I threw up all over the nice carpet at my father’s get-together.
“You look tired,” Claud said. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
“I’m fine.”
He was right that I was tired. Last night, I hadn’t slept well as I’d tried to think up ways to extricate myself from this very complicated relationship I’d found myself in. From love and trust to blackmail and lies. I was out of my element.
“You’re not fine. Meet me outside in ten. I’ll have the car parked out front.”
“Mom isn’t going to like this.”
“I’ll handle your mother and father. Just do what I say, and I won’t tan that pretty ass of yours.”
My cheeks grew hot, and I watched him as he walked away toward my parents. Claud was a tall, good-looking man. He reminded me of the aristocracy with the way he moved, his spine always straight, his steps surging with confidence. Other people responded well to him too. If only they knew the level of deceit this man was capable of.
I made a quick stop at the bathroom to pee and pinched some colors into my cheeks. One minute later than I was supposed to meet Claud shouldn’t have been a big deal, but he’d assume I did it deliberately.
Just as I stepped out, the brand-new sleek black BMW my mother had insisted Father buy drove up. The car slowed at the steps of the building, and as the driver emerged, I glanced around for Claud.
Could I ditch him? I preferred to spend this evening alone. I still had a doll mother hadn’t found when she had the maid search my room and throw out all my little stuff. I typically took the doll out at night when everyone was sleeping.
“Mr. Wentworth, get in the car, please.”
I turned toward the driver and frowned. I’d never seen this man before. He was the same height as our regular driver, Bates, and he had on the uniform, but something about him was off. Maybe the fact that he wasn’t the one who’d driven us to the venue.
“Where’s Bates?”
“There was an emergency, and he had to leave.” The driver smiled. “He sends his apologies.”
“Oh. I’ll just wait on Claud.”
“Mr. Hill is already inside the car.” He moved slightly to the right, and I caught a glimpse of Claud inside.
Seeing Claud eased my suspicion. I took several steps closer to the car, and the driver moved out of the way. I got a good look at Claud. He clutched at his chest, blood spreading on his white shirt and coating his hands. Alarmed, I stumbled back and into what felt like the nozzle of a gun pressed to my spine.
“A word out of you and I’ll shatter your spine so hard you’ll be spitting fragments out of your mouth.” The nozzle dug harder into my back. “Now get in the fucking car.”
My thoughts went haywire. There was no other way to explain my jerky movements as I did what he said. He shoved me the rest of the way, slammed the door shut, and got into the driver’s seat. Any ideas I had of getting out were dashed when the automatic locks clicked shut.
“Oh my god, Claud,” I whispered, covering my mouth with my hands and staring at the blood on his shirt. He’d been shot in the abdomen. He groaned, his head rolling back onto the seat.
“You have to—”
“Shut up!” the driver growled. He turned around to us, all traces of his earlier smile gone. His face twisted into a sneer, and his eyes glinted with malicious intent. “One word and I’ll fucking off you both. Don’t think I won’t.”
I clamped my mouth shut. Claud looked pale, and he shivered. He was a shitty person, but he didn’t deserve to die from bleeding out.
The car drove away from the venue, and with every mile that separated us from that safety, my heart sank further. No one would know we were abducted, since everyone would think Claud and I had left the venue together. How long before they realized, and would we even still be alive?
Claud gripped my hand. I tried to pull away, grossed out by all the blood, but his grip was too strong. I peeked up at him. His eyes were so full of pain, and his breathing turned shallow.
“Listen to—"
His whisper was cut off by the bullet that pierced his forehead. Blood splattered onto my face, and I let out a silent scream. Claud’s body slumped back into the seat and crashed lifelessly against the door.
“Oh god. Oh my god! Oh my god!” The words finally came along with a shitload of tears. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his unseeing stare, the blood dripping over eyes that had shared both warmth and coldness with me.
I scrambled as far back to the other side of the seat as I could, swallowing the bile that rose in my mouth.
“If you don’t stop screaming like a little bitch, the next bullet is for you.”
I’d had no idea I was screaming until he shouted at me. I looked away from Claud and stared straight into a gun barrel. I whimpered, then closed my mouth to keep in the sound.
I clamped my eyes shut to keep the horrible sight away. Of the gun. My abductor. Claud’s lifeless body. But it was no use. The images would forever be burned into my mind.
Chapter Two
Booker
The lead singer of the group Shinedown belted out the lyrics to their hit song Fly from the Inside, but hardly anyone paid attention to the music. Except for Jamie.
Grimm must not have been watching him closely enough. The boy was wasted and held a red plastic cup, which spilled all over his hand as he attempted to dance to the song.
It was bad. Horrible, really. For one, it was the wrong kind of song for him to twerk his ass to, and for another, he was drunk and perched atop a table. Not exactly the safest place to dance when the floor was available.
Grimm didn’t seem to be around. No wonder the little minx had taken advantage of the freedom to break out a little. I couldn’t say I blamed him either. He’d been through a lot since returning to Smoky Vale, and losing his residency at the hospital couldn’t have been fun. He’d almost been shot, and his freedom was curtailed. Grimm always had a detail on him for precaution.
Several of our brothers, as well as the hangarounds who’d descended on the clubhouse for the party, stood watching Jamie. Some were shouting at him to take his shorts off. His cute little boy shorts were already indecent enough, and practically all the men in the room had their tongues hanging out. A boy like that didn’t go unnoticed in a room full of horny bikers who came in all colors of the rainbow.
I shook my head at the sight. The boy was hot, and he knew it. He lapped up the attention, and the men gave it to him, but they kept their distance. He was the prez’s property, and Grimm didn’t need to brand him for everyone to have gotten that bit of news.
Grimm Buckley, who’d never been in a relationship in all the time I’d known him, had found himself a partner. A boy, of all things, who called him Daddy. Nothing new about that, though, since the boy had been using that title for years, but now it was official.
Our president was owned.
“Jamie! What the hell do you think you’re doing, boy?”
I grinned at the crowd that backed away at Grimm’s growl. Satisfied that I wouldn’t be needed there, I allowed my gaze to wander the room. A brunette had the dick of one of my brothers between her huge jugs as he titty-fucked her. I had no interest at all in that scene and rubbed my palm down my jeans as I continued my investigation of the room.
When I spotted our twins leaning against the wall, I did a double take. Now that scene piqued my interest. No one could confirm just yet if they were fucking or not, but I had my suspicions.
They were standing close, Whip leaning into Noose with his twin brother’s hand splayed on his lower back. They seemed to be talking, but even straight across the room, the intensity of their gaze could be felt.
Noose slipped his hand downward, hovering just over Whip’s ass, but before he could connect, he pulled his hand away and eased back. He scowled at me. I wanted to yell at him not to stop on my account but doubted he could hear me above the noise.
I tilted the neck of my Jackie O’s in their direction, hoping they got my message loud and clear. A few weeks ago, I got shot, while protecting Jamie, the bullet narrowly missing my spine. Technically I should still be recuperating, but I wasn’t one for boredom and low action.
Life was too short to care about something as mundane as who people fucked to get off. If no minors were involved and consent was granted, everything else was free game as far as I was concerned.
Zak, leaning against the bar, popped up in my line of vision. One of the regular gals was behind the bar, serving alcohol. Cass was supposed to work the bar with her, but I’d spotted the cock slut sucking two dicks in the corner, so he was out of commission for the night.
As usual, Zak was just observing while he chatted with Bones, one of our prospects. Unlike the other members of the club, I’d never seen Zak naked, never seen him with a cock in his mouth or in his ass while we partied. He sometimes drank, but not too much, and when everyone else was plastered, he could be counted on to be sober.
So typical of him.
Maybe that was the reason I’d felt so good for the brief time we’d been fucking. Almost from the beginning, Zak had set his sights on me, even though he could have all the other men in the club. The chemistry between us had sizzled, and I’d had no intention of giving into it until we had that stupid fake boyfriend stint when my grandaunt visited Smoky Vale.
