No Regrets: Jani Kay (Firebird Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  The cool night air slapped my face. Greedily, I sucked fresh air into my lungs.

  Tarmac. Sounds of traffic and horns. Bouncing on his shoulder as he sped up the pace.

  “Where the hell are you taking me?” Oh God.

  “My shift is over. There is no way I am leaving you there. The idiots in tonight are as bad as a pack of hungry wolves. They’d devour you if I left you to it.”

  With long determined strides, he crossed the road with me still hanging on. The scent of soap and beer that clung to his shirt floated to my nostrils. I’m going to be sick.

  At least no one could see us, and since my own legs were most likely incapable of supporting me, I kept my eyes screwed shut and endured the humiliation as he carried me up a flight of stairs. The combination of motion sickness and too much alcohol prevented me from speaking even though my heart pounded and my head raced.

  Where the hell is he taking me?

  Hardly out of breath, in spite of my added weight, Kurt had come to an abrupt stop. I opened my eyes and lifted my head to take in my surroundings. We stood in front of a door of what appeared to be a block of apartments. He dug into his pocket and produced a key with which he unlocked the door.

  Wooden floors appeared in the dim light as he walked in and closed the door behind us. From wood to carpet, he slid me down his body and set me down on a soft leather couch.

  Standing over me his eyes narrowed as he scrutinized me. I was past feeling embarrassed or awkward as I stared back at him, thankful to be lying back and not bouncing over his shoulder. I rubbed over my stomach, wishing the churning inside to stop.

  He laughed softly, amusement flickering in his eyes. It changed his whole face from earnest to handsome. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Strong coffee?”

  “Okay. Stay here.”

  I had no intention of moving, so I stared at his broad shoulders as he sauntered to the kitchen. Without moving my head too much, I glanced around from the black leather couch I’d been deposited on. Glass and metal dominated the space, with an imposing fireplace made entirely of steel glimmering in the light.

  In the area I presumed was meant to be the dining room, stood gym equipment. So that’s why he’s so strong and muscular. I couldn't remember when last I’d been to a gym, or had a decent workout—other than during sex. And that was weeks ago.

  A few minutes later, Kurt returned with two mugs. Smiling down at me, he placed it on the coffee table in front of me.

  “Drink,” he ordered, grabbing hold of the remote to turn on the sound system. Seconds later, soft music flowed into the space. The same music Alain had played at the chateau.

  “Too loud?” he asked.

  The sound reverberated through me, causing my head to throb. “No, its fine,” I lied, closing my eyes.

  Alain.

  I didn’t want to think of him. The dull ache that had become a permanent part of my body since I’d left Paris was still there. Drinking clearly wasn’t the way to erase him from my memory. I sighed as I rubbed at my chest. Damn, it hurts no matter what I do.

  Chapter 2 — Alain

  I'd made a decision. I couldn’t live like this any longer.

  I grabbed my jacket and car keys and made my way to the garage. A few minutes later, I sped down the highway, the wind in my face, blowing the cobwebs from my brain.

  Idiot! I was a fool to let Rebecca go. How did I think I could make my life work without her?

  Putting my foot flat on the accelerator, the yellow Porsche roared around tight bends as I got closer and closer to Valerie’s estate. I'd been there many times over the years, sometimes for an event and other times just to speak with her. There was even a time when the Porsche couldn’t get there fast enough.

  I never loved her.

  Yes, I’d fucked her—many times, but I’d never made love to her. There was a difference.

  Valerie was royalty, born into the right family. She was beautiful and wealthy, sophisticated and smart. She was everything a man could want.

  But she wasn’t Rebecca.

  It had taken me several sleepless nights to comprehend just how hard I'd fallen for the beauty from Australia. How waking in my future wife’s bed after a night of mindless fucking left me cold? How I saw Rebecca’s face when I came inside Valerie.

  It wasn’t fair to any of us. Insanity was allowing it to continue.

  I had to stop it. Not another minute of this fucking farce.

  Mere weeks had passed yet I missed Rebecca as if a part of me was lost. My heart torn from my body. It was only since I didn’t have her with me that I realized how addicted I'd become to her presence. I’d thought I was so damn smart, that I’d worked it all out—I would marry Countess de la Ray out of loyalty to my family and heritage and keep Rebecca as my woman. How in God’s name did I expect that to work?

  I should’ve known better. Rebecca was never a woman to be satisfied with seconds, even if I planned on keeping her in utmost luxury and showed her my love and attention.

  By letting her go, I'd opened it up completely to that cocksucker, Maxwell Grant. Rage sat raw in my gut, burning a hole through my stomach at the thought.

  I stepped on the pedal, skidding on gravel covering the narrow windy road. Lost in my thoughts, I was in a mad rush to put an end to this ridiculous engagement. The crazy laugh that bubbled from my lips was part anger, part relief that I’d come to my fucking senses.

  Even from her grave, I felt my mother’s disappointment that I planned to marry a woman I didn’t love. I could imagine her softly spoken words, admonishing me for disregarding everything that mattered most. Love.

  Love is what life is all about, Alain. Cherish it. Nurture it. Never take it for granted. It was as if she were speaking to me.

  Merde! Where the fuck did the truck come from? It headed straight toward me, overtaking another heavily loaded vehicle. Staring at two pairs of headlights nearly on top of me, my heart beat furiously in my chest. God, I'm going to die. I'm going to die before I get to fix my goddamn mistake. Before I get to tell Rebecca I need her back. That I can’t settle for this life without her.

  Both trucks blew their horns as if they thought that would magically make me disappear. The slower truck hit its breaks, dust billowing in its wake. A gap, a small window of opportunity not to end up like a concertina under the truck’s body, was what I needed.

  Please, God! I’m too young to die.

  My life flashed before me: the good, the bad, and the ugly. In a moment, I saw it all and I knew with every fiber in my body what I wanted. Really wanted.

  My prayer was answered—the truck that braked allowed for an opening between the two monstrous vehicles. Speed and accuracy were required to save my life. It was up to me.

  I took my chance. A slim chance, but a chance none the less.

  Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, I jerked it to the right, while flattening the accelerator once more. The Porsche roared, sliding at first, rubber burning on the road as I slipped between the two trucks, inches to spare on either side. Adrenaline spiked through my body, my knuckles white on the steering wheel, my breath coming in short bursts as I rushed out the other side.

  Alive.

  Fuck, that was close.

  Shaking, I sent a prayer to the heavens giving thanks for sparing my life. I had so many things I still wanted to do, wanted to experience.

  Slowing down as I approached the gates of the estate, I stopped the car and rested my head on the steering wheel to catch my breath. I didn’t want to die with regrets. I took a few deep breaths and felt a new calmness settle over me.

  Pushing the button to open the gates, I waited just long enough to squeeze through the opening. A weight already lifted off my shoulders, urging me to get this task done so I could move on with my life in the direction I wanted it to go.

  My father’s car stood in the driveway. I shrugged. Just as well. Saves me the trouble of repeating myself to him later. I was curious as to wh
at business he had being there, and I assumed it had to do with contracts that needed to be drawn up between our two families before the consummation of our vows.

  I let myself in through the side entrance I’d used to sneak in many a night when I’d needed a willing fuck and a warm body to hold on to. Valerie never refused me, knowing since our teenage years when our parents had informed us both she was my intended wife. She’d given me her virginity back then, yet I was never quite sure if I was the only man to warm her bed. She used sex as a tradeoff to get what she wanted—to be the future duchess du Bois.

  Hearing voices from upstairs, I found it strange Valerie would receive my father in her personal quarters rather than the large reception area meant for guests. I took two stairs at a time, eager to confront them both and get this done. I followed the voices to Valerie’s study, the ornate room filled with rows upon rows of books. It was next to her bedroom, where she’d spend hours reading and writing poetry.

  I slowed my pace as I got closer. They were laughing at a shared joke, but it sounded more intimate than I’d expected. Coming to a halt outside the door, I listened for a moment.

  “You please me, my dear. Such a good little whore for me.” My father’s voice was thick with lust. An uneasy feeling coiled in the pit of my stomach. What in God’s name was happening in that room? My breathing became faster and shallower as I strained my ears to listen for clues.

  “You’ve always been the man for me. You know how to make me beg for more.” Valerie’s voice drifted to me, low and seductive.

  He laughed softly. “And that will never change. I’ll be fucking your pussy until the day I die.”

  “If only I was marrying you. I want you...a real man,” she panted.

  I sucked in a breath and held it.

  His voice came in short bursts, as if he were exerting himself. “I know, my dear, but now you are pregnant, we need to move the marriage forward. Alain must never know the child is mine.” Slapping sounds of skin against skin caused bile to rise to my throat. Is it what I’m thinking?

  I couldn’t stand there any longer. I had to see with my own eyes what was happening. Exhaling all the breath from my lungs, I lunged forward into the room, taking them both by surprise.

  My heart slammed into my ribcage.

  The shock was on me.

  Chapter 3 — Alain

  Two pairs of eyes snapped to me, a stunned expression on Valerie’s face. My father’s only showed contempt.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” I roared. The whooshing sound in my ears became louder by the second. I gripped the back of the closest chair, my eyes blinking as I stared at them in disbelief.

  “Alain,” Valerie gasped, her mouth forming an O as she tried to shake my father off her. He was so far gone he didn’t care that his dick was inside Valerie, his fingers pinching her nipples from behind. He gripped her tighter and just for good measure thrust so hard into her that she screamed. He laughed, cruel and bitter then reached a hand between her legs to stroke her pussy.

  “Watch boy. See how a real man fucks a woman.” His voice was guttural and savage.

  I hate him.

  “Bastard!” My hands fisted into tight balls as I stood there shaking. It didn’t stop him fingering her, his lips curled up and his eyes rolling back in his head as he shuddered.

  “Alain, I-I’m sorry,” she panted, her porcelain skin turning blotchy red. “I can explain.” Valerie’s eyes were large and round, beautiful even. Ashamed and turned on. I knew the look she got before she spiraled into an orgasm.

  “Oh, God!” she screamed as she pinched her eyes closed and fucking came in front of me, her skin glowing with sweat. Taking a step back, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. It was like watching a car crash. Only I wanted no survivors.

  “I don’t need any explanations from you,” my voice rasped from my dry throat. “I only want to know one thing. How long?”

  Valerie lowered her gaze then screwed her eyes shut.

  “Answer me!” I gritted through clenched teeth. I was about to explode.

  A vile laugh filled the room. “Seventeen.” Duke Philippe du Bois pulled his dick from my fiancée and stood, holding his limp organ. No condom. He was fucking her bare. My blood boiled, overheating my brain. I’d been there—inside her—only three days ago, but always protected.

  I glared at him. “Fuck. Since she turned seventeen? You’re a dirty bastard. That’s low—even for a pig like you.”

  “Watch your words, boy.”

  “You’re fucking my fiancée? She’s pregnant?” I repeated everything I’d heard as I tried to make sense of the scene in front of me. Then it hit me—a punch straight in the gut, nearly felling me over. I pointed a finger at him, rage consuming me. “The child is yours and you weren’t going to tell me. You’d let me believe it was mine? I’d raise my brother as if it were my own child. God, I’m going to be fucking sick.”

  I leaned forward, resting my palms on my knees, as I took a few deep breaths. My brain couldn’t process everything fast enough. Bile sat in my throat, burning like hell. I swallowed hard.

  “Why would you do such a despicable thing? I don’t understand.”

  The smirk on his face matched the challenge in his eyes. “She needs a real man to satisfy her.” His beady eyes burned into mine. Hard. Unapologetic. Hateful. “And I have to ensure the du Bois bloodline is strong. Not a weakling like you. Your mother made you soft.” His top lip curled into a snarl.

  Rage took hold of me—blinding all rational thought.

  “Old man, watch your words. Don’t speak like that about my mother,” I hissed through clenched teeth, my jaw aching.

  I directed my next question to Valerie. “You’re pregnant?” Nausea was getting the better of me—I was going to throw up. What devious scheme had they brewed to hide it from me? I’d believe the child was mine, but in reality...

  My mind wouldn’t go there.

  Picking up Valerie’s dress from the floor, I threw it at her. “To think that in a moment of madness, I was going to throw my life away on you.”

  “Alain, please,” she whimpered. “We’re all adults. Let's talk about this.”

  “I came to tell you something. I'm leaving. For good. You can both go to hell. Fuck one another’s brains out. I really don’t care.”

  Her face fell, all color draining from it. “You don’t mean that—”

  “Sweetheart,” I sneered. “You just made what I have to say easier for me. I came to tell you that I’m not going to marry you. That I realized my mistake. We don’t love one another. I'm going after Rebecca.” I made a cutting gesture, drawing a line with a flat hand across my throat. “You and me, we are over.”

  “You dumb fuck.” The old man grabbed my arm, scowling. He was surprisingly strong for his age, his fingers biting into my skin. “You will do as you’re told. The wedding is moving forward. You will give this child your name and carry on the du Bois line.”

  “Why? It's your bastard child. You marry the slut if that’s what you want.” I pulled my arm from his iron grip, staggering backward as he let go. I turned on my heels. I'd seen and heard enough to last me a lifetime. I was done.

  The icy voice behind me stopped me in my tracks. “I should’ve killed you when you were born! When I found out you weren’t mine.”

  I laughed. Loud. Raucous. “I’m not from your seed? Thank fuck for that.”

  It all fell into place, his hatred since birth. The way he’d shunned my mother. Why he’d impregnate Valerie. It also raised more questions. If this old fuck wasn’t my father, then who was?

  For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel as if my soul was scarred. I wasn’t cursed to become like him. My head spun.

  His DNA is not mine. A heavy weight lifted from my heart. The burden was no longer mine to carry. Relief washed over me knowing I wasn’t tainted by his evil ruthlessness.

  “You insolent fucker,” he bellowed, his eyes bugging out of his head. “I raised you a du Bois
even though you are scum.”

  I straightened my back. “Is that because you were too weak to produce a son of your own? How do you know this child is indeed yours?” I pointed to Valerie. “That this slut hasn’t been fucking every man in town bare—”

  Her skin paled. Had I stumbled on the truth? Was she lying about the pregnancy?

  “How dare you? Get out!” Valerie screamed, her still naked body shaking.

  “With pleasure.” The room pressed in on me. Grinding my teeth, I made my way to the staircase, anxious to get out of this damned house and as far away from these toxic people as I could.

  Valerie’s shriek sounded out a warning. I spun around to see the duke’s large body hurtle toward me, murder in his eyes. His face contorted with madness as his fists aimed for me.

  Since the age of ten, I’d been trained in lacrosse. It taught me to be nimble on my feet. I sidestepped the onslaught by the monstrous body with ease, watching his head hit the wall with such force that he bounced backward and tumbled down the stairs like a sack of potatoes.

  He wanted me dead alright; his eyes didn’t lie.

  “Oh, God! You killed him!” Valerie stood there, naked, venom in her voice.

  My head was bursting. I stumbled down the stairs. “Call an ambulance,” I yelled as I stood over him, watching the blood pool around his head. The fucker was still breathing.

  I had to get out before I finished him off myself.

  Chapter 4 – Rebecca

  I woke up with a start wondering where the hell was I. Sitting up, it felt as if my brain collided with my skull. With a pounding head and heart, I remembered. Oh, God, I'm in Kurt’s bed. Lifting the black covers, relief washed over me. At least I was still fully dressed, including wearing panties. My cheeks burned as the memory of how I'd gotten to Kurt’s place flashed before me.

  But everything after that was a blank.

  I had no idea what happened beyond being carried to Kurt’s place and him making coffee. Immediately, I panicked, fearing I’d slept with Kurt. Did we have sex? I was engulfed in embarrassment since I couldn’t remember. I scoffed, even though I wasn’t amused; if we had, it couldn’t have been great if I was still dressed and he was up already.