Flynn: Social Rejects Syndicate (Mackay Brothers Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  It’s not from affection he feels toward his daughter; it’s simply because he doesn’t want to piss me off. King wants to answer me in the best way possible, so he looks good to me. In my eyes, I’ll never respect or even come close to liking King ever again. Not after seeing the way he treats his daughter. His own flesh and blood.

  “I’m not gonna let Imogen call you again. From now on, you don’t think about her or talk to anyone about her. Imogen no longer exists for you. She’s not your daughter and won’t be coming back to you. Even if you do manage to pay off the money you owe me,” I order him, letting malice and anger fill my voice so he knows I’m not playing around. “Imogen is mine and is no longer collateral for your debt. I’ll have Henry and Liam pay you a visit to let you know what I’m taking instead. My decision is fucking final.”

  “Flynn, you can’t do this,” he stutters out. “I don’t have anything else.”

  “You do and I’ll figure it out. Imogen is no longer your concern,” I assure him, needing him to understand he has no say in what happens from here on out with Imogen.

  “Flynn, you don’t understand. Imogen is all I have left in this world,” he tries again, pleading with me.

  “Imogen may be all you have left since your wife died, but you don’t act like a caring, loving father. The way you just treated her was like nothing I’ve ever heard before. She chose to call you and you blew her off. That girl is upstairs crying right now, and you don’t give a flying fuck. The only thing you care about is what kind of deal I’m going to make you,” I growl out once more.

  Before King can try to say another word to me, I pull my phone from my ear and hang up. King has nothing to say that I want to hear. Pulling up Liam’s number, I press call and wait for him to answer. I don’t give a shit what the time difference is right now. The only important thing is finding out what else King has to offer up as collateral and getting him to hand it over. Imogen is no longer going to be used for that. Or for anything else. Including whatever little game my father is playing.

  “Everything okay?” Liam questions as he answers the phone.

  “No. I’m done having King use Imogen as collateral. He pissed me the fuck off just now when he chased Imogen from the room in tears over the fucking phone. I want to know every single little nitty gritty detail on him. I’m going to take as much from him as I can and enjoy every damn second of it,” I state, keeping my voice low so Imogen doesn’t hear me.

  “I’m on it. I’ll dig up everything I can find and even that he’s trying to hide,” Liam swears to me.

  Hanging up the phone once more, I make my way into the kitchen. There’s a note on the counter letting me know I have a plate of food in the refrigerator. All I have to do is warm it up so I can eat dinner. It will be the second meal I’ve eaten today. Tommaso and I were busy and didn’t get a chance to stop for something to eat. We’ve been on the go all day long and I’m more than ready to eat, take a shower and head to bed. I’ll be checking in on Imogen before I head to my own room again tonight.

  After putting my plate in the microwave, I take off my coat and lay it on the back of the couch while loosening up my tie. When I’m home, I hate having my work clothes on. I’d rather be in a pair of shorts or jeans and not much else. That’s neither here nor there though. My plate is filled with garlic bread and spaghetti. There’s another plate in the fridge with my name on it, but I just grabbed one of them.

  It smells amazing as I sit down at the island and quickly eat my food while straining to hear any sound from Imogen upstairs. I’m not imagining her coming back downstairs after trying to call her father. She’s going to hide in her room for the rest of the night.

  My plan was to come back and if she were up I was going to have her keep me company while I ate dinner. We have to bridge the gap here somewhere and I have no problem starting it. Imogen just needs to be on board with the plan and play along. Hopefully we can be friends and have some sort of communication while we’re here.

  I’m still not sure what I’m gonna do when we get back to Australia. It’s a mystery. The only thing I know is Imogen won’t be having anything to do with her father. I’ll ensure she keeps far away from the restaurant, her dad, and anything else to do with him. If I have my way, Imogen will be moving on with her life and never worry about her dad again.

  Rinsing off my plate and placing it in the dishwasher, I grab my coat, check all the doors and windows, and head upstairs. Stopping at Imogen’s door, I listen for anything on the opposite side. There’s no noise so I carefully push it open. Slowly walking inside, I see her passed out in the bed. She’s laying on top of the bed with her bathing suit and sheer shirt on. Her hair is splayed out behind her covering her pillow. The dark of her hair is in stark contrast to the white pillowcase. In the moonlight I can see the red streaks covering her cheeks from crying. It’s the last thing I want to see covering on her face.

  After covering her up with a blanket from the end of the bed, I brush the hair back from her face and leave the room. Crossing the hall, I close my own door and strip out of my clothes on the way to the bathroom. Turning on the hot water, I keep it as hot as I can stand it. Once it’s up to temperature, I step in and let the heat cover my body and slide down. Leaning against the tiled wall, I don’t rush washing my hair and body as the warmth seeps into me.

  Frustration fills me as I more thoughts of Imogen swirl through my head. No matter what I’m doing, she’s there. Thoughts of her and me together, of her fulfilling my every wish while I fulfill hers as well. I want her in my bed for more than a night or two. That’s not ever something I’ve wanted with a woman before. I want a night or two and that’s it.

  Knowing I’m not going to get her out of my head, I quickly wash up so I can get out and dry off. Instead of putting on lounge pants tonight, I walk to the bed with the towel wrapped around my waist. Rosa won’t just walk in my room and I know Imogen won’t. So, there’s no reason for me to bother with wearing anything. I hate wearing clothes to bed.

  Sliding beneath the sheets, I pull them and the blanket up to my waist and close my eyes. As sleep begins to claim me, Imogen invades my mind. I picture her being in bed next to me, curled up into my side as we both fall asleep.

  Walking downstairs, I don’t hear anyone moving about or any soft talking. When I enter the kitchen, Rosa is the only one in there. Looking past her to the patio, Imogen isn’t out there either.

  “Has Imogen been down yet?” I question her as she places a cup of coffee down on the island for me.

  “No. I haven’t seen her yet this morning. Would you like me to wake her up?” she asks, keeping her back to me.

  “No. If she’s tired, I’d rather let her sleep,” I respond. “I’m not sure how late I’ll be tonight. Don’t worry about making me a plate tonight. I’ll eat the one I didn’t last night.”

  “Okay. Did you like your food?” she asks, finally turning to look at me.

  “Yes. It was very good,” I tell her, adding sugar and milk to my coffee before taking a sip of it.

  Rosa nods her head while continuing to work on something at the stove. It smells amazing. While drinking my coffee, Rosa hands me a plate filled with eggs, sausage, and an English muffin. Since it’s just me, I don’t worry about moving to the table in the dining room or out to the patio.

  Just as I’m finishing up, Tommaso makes his way inside. He accepts the cup of coffee Rosa places in front of him. While he drinks his black, we sit in silence. Tommaso won’t talk in front of Rosa or take a chance Imogen may come in whatever room we’re in. Business is meant for the guys and that’s how we keep it.

  As soon as Tommaso is done with his coffee we head out. He’s got his SUV parked out front. We climb in and Tommaso turns to me for a minute. There isn’t a word exchanged between us. Giving me a smirk, he turns to face forward and turns on the engine before pulling out.

  “You’re so fucked,” Tommaso finally says as we pull out of the driveway.

  “Why is th
at?” I question him, thoroughly confused.

  “That girl is already under your skin and you don’t even realize it,” he responds, the same smirk on his face.

  “How do you figure she’s under my skin?” I ask him, not sure I’m going to like his answer.

  “She’s invadin’ your head and you can’t stop thinkin’ about her. Imogen is the first thing you think of when you wake up and the last thing you think of when you fall asleep. You can’t do a single thing without thinkin’ of her. And, you don’t believe she’s any form of collateral,” Tommaso tells me, never taking his eyes off the road.

  “That’s not true,” I lie to him, knowing I’ll never admit it to anyone. Including myself. “What are we doing today?”

  “We’re stakin’ out the warehouse again. If we can get a glimpse inside, we’re to take a look but that’s it,” he answers, glancing at me briefly.

  “I’ll go inside,” I volunteer, looking out the window.

  “You sure you’re up for it?”

  “Yep.”

  When we pull into to the parking lot across from the warehouse, we wait a few minutes to see if anyone is hanging around. No one is there. There aren’t any guards outside the warehouse, on the roof, or anywhere around. Cars don’t sit outside of the building either. I look around the place before getting out of the SUV. Tommaso doesn’t try to stop me as I make my way across the road and over to the building.

  I make my way slowly over to the door on the side of the building. When I still don’t see anyone around, I try the handle. The door is left unlocked and doesn’t make a sound as I open it. When it’s open enough for me to slip through, I make my way inside and close it behind me. There are only two lights on as I make my way through the crates, looking into the ones that are open. Guns, cocaine, ammunition, and other drugs fill them. Everything is packaged and ready to be shipped out to whoever is buying it.

  What confuses me the most is there is no rhyme or reason to how the crates are placed or what’s going on. Hell, in some of the open crates, drugs and guns fill them. This is not the way anyone I know would be doing business. Everything is kept separate and organized. I’ll need to do some more digging to find out who they’re shipping them to and what is going on. Paperwork has to be somewhere in here.

  Walking through the warehouse, I find a small office at the back. One small light casts shadows across the room. Opening the door, I head for the desk. There isn’t a single piece of paper on the top. I search through each drawer to find nothing of importance. Turning around, there’s a file cabinet in the corner behind the desk. Bingo!

  Like everything else in this place, it’s not locked. I open the top drawer and find several files with numbers that don’t make sense on the top. Pulling them out, I open the files to find sheets of more numbers. These ones look as if they’re coordinates to pick up or drop off locations. My phone is in my pocket, so I pull it out and begin taking pictures of everything. Sal and Tommaso can make sense of them once I’m out of here.

  As I’m getting ready to put the files back in the cabinet, my phone vibrates on the desk. My movements become quick as I place the files back and glance down at my phone. There’s a message from Tommaso. He’s letting me know a car just pulled up and I need to get the fuck out of there as quickly as possible.

  Rushing from the office, I make my way back toward the front of the warehouse. I can hear talking and laughter outside as I reach for the doorhandle. Fuck! There’s no way I’ll be able to get out the door. Looking around, I see several crates stacked on top of one another. Heading over there, I hide behind it. Peeking out around the crate, I see five guys making their way inside. They aren’t paying attention to a damn thing around them.

  As they walk deeper into the warehouse, I rush from behind the crates toward the door. Opening it up slowly, I constantly look over my shoulder to make sure no one spots me. Rushing out the door, I run directly into another man. His back is to me as he smokes. I watch it billow up from his lit cigarette into the air above us.

  “The fuck?” he yells out, turning to face me.

  My mind goes blank as I reach up and twist his neck. He slumps to the ground at my feet. This is not what I was supposed to fucking do here. In and out. It’s that simple. Now, there’s a body laying just outside the door and I’m the one who killed him. I just wanted to shut him up before he alerted anyone to my presence.

  Tommaso rushes over in the SUV. Together we load the body in the back and haul ass away from the warehouse.

  “What the fuck is this?” Tommaso growls out, his face red from rage.

  “I don’t know. I had to shut him up and didn’t think,” I respond, shaking my head.

  “You certainly shut him up,” he responds, sarcasm lacing his voice.

  This is gonna have to be called in to Sal. He’ll have to know about this and make sure no blowback comes from my fuck up. I’m gonna get an ass chewing for this and I deserve it.

  “Did you at least get somethin’ useful while you were in there?” he questions me, not taking his eyes off the road.

  “I got some pictures of numbers. I think they’re coordinates for drop off and pick-up points. All the pictures are on my phone,” I answer him, pulling my phone out of my pocket.

  Tommaso nods his head and I turn my attention back out the window. For now, I try to block what just happened from my mind. Instead of heading back toward Sal’s, we head to the outskirts of town.

  “Where we going?” I ask him, not sure what’s going on right now.

  “Have to get rid of the body,” he responds shortly.

  I nod my head and sit back as we make our way toward wherever we’ll bury this body. This is on me and I’m fully prepared to deal with the body. It’s not like I haven’t put my time in back home. Or gotten my hands down. I have. So, I’ll take care of this situation the same way I do everything else; standing tall and proud with my head held high.

  Chapter Ten

  Imogen

  WE’VE BEEN HERE for almost two weeks now. I’m so bored and alone in this house with no one to talk to other than Rosa. She flits from one room to the next as she works. Some days I help her out, much to her protest, and others I simply lay outside in the sun soaking up as much as I possibly can. Every single night is the same as I eat dinner alone before heading upstairs to wash the day away and then read while I lay in bed. If the nights are nice out, I sit out on the balcony with a book, letting the light from my room filter out to light the pages up.

  I catch glimpses here and there of Flynn as he comes home or leaves with Tommaso for the day. Yes, most nights I’m up when he gets home. That’s the reason I know he comes into my room each night to check on me before heading to his own room. He’s got a routine down, come in, eat his dinner from the fridge, have a single drink, and then he comes up to my room. I’ve gotten really good at pretending to be asleep when he comes in. I’m not sure what his reasoning is or why he brushes the hair from my face. This is a side of Flynn I never thought I’d see; one I can’t keep my guard up against him.

  Tommaso has come to the house during the day while Flynn is gone. He stays for an hour and then heads back out. Once or twice, I’ve asked where Flynn is, but get no response. His response is a smirk on his sexy face before diving back into whatever we’re having for lunch that day. Honestly, I look forward to his visits. Tommaso is a good guy. He’s sweet, funny, and has me laughing my ass off more times than not. Rosa even laughs when he gets telling us his stories. It’s as if he brings the situations to life and we’re right there in the moment with him. Who knew he’d be so damn funny?

  Flynn, the few glances I’ve gotten of him, seems to be more withdrawn and serious. I’ve never really seen him let loose or smile all that much. Unless you look at the tabloids and papers back home, then you see him laughing and smiling with all the women he’s photographed being with. When I’ve seen those, it’s the only time I’ve seen a smile on his usually serious face. He should really smile and laugh m
ore; it’s a good look on him.

  I’m thinking all of this as I find myself back out by the pool. I’ve had lunch and helped Rosa clean up the kitchen, now I’m relaxing with a book by the pool. I don’t want to swim today; it gets kind of old when you do it every single day. The only thing I’ve gained is being able to hold my breath longer under water and swimming more laps than I ever thought I’d be able to do. Exercise of any kind, even fun, and me don’t mix. I’m not that girl who worries over every single morsel of food she puts in her mouth and then goes to the gym on a daily basis. I eat what I want and don’t care what I look like.

  I know I have a big ass and my tits are bigger than I’d like. However, I like my body and don’t care what anyone thinks about how I look. That’s just one of the things my mom taught me when I was growing up. We’re all made how we are, and no one should feel bad about how they look or about eating real food. We only have one life and it’s up to us to make it our best life while we’re alive to live it. So, I live every single day as if it’s my last and don’t worry about what anyone thinks or how I live. I’m not hurting anyone so no one can judge me for the choices I make. Not even my father since he could give two shits about me anyway.

  Yes, it still hurts every single day to realize how little he truly cares about me. I think it’s good to know now that I’m simply someone else who’s disposable in his world. Maybe my mom is the only person he truly ever loved and gave his heart to. While she was alive, I was in that picture. Since losing her, I’m simply a reminder of what she left behind. Someone who doesn’t mean all that much to him for his own reasons. Reasons I don’t even want to know anymore. I have me and I’m more than enough.

  As I’m contemplating everything, lost in my own head, I don’t hear the footsteps making their way toward me. In fact, I don’t look up until a large shadow is cast over me. My heart races while my breath hitches because none of the guys walking the property have ever come close to me. They keep their distance and the only looks I get are ones to make sure I’m not doing something that’s not allowed. Well, I get a few appreciative glances from a few of the younger guys. They always get a smile and small wave because I’m not a bitch.