Page 12 of Untethered Heart
I have not. Anddon’t call me that.
MASON:
So she’s available then?
GAGE:
NO.
The flight attendant comes over, telling us the pilot is ready to take off, and ensures we all have our seatbelts fastened. I close my eyes and pull in steadying breaths as the plane starts to roll forward.
“Are you alright, Cale?” Beth whispers.
Am I alright? I’ve never experienced a pull to a woman like I did with Lex. It’s unnerving. I couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get close enough, deep enough. My soul ached to consume her, and I certainly didn’t have anywhere close to enough time to latch on to that feeling.
I don’t know what drove me to finish on her stomach. I’ve never done that before, but as her pussy contracted around me, claimed me, I felt a desperate need to claim her right back. To ruin and possess her. It was a satisfying release in more ways than one, but then I saw the evidence. My cum painted on her skin, and my brain short circuited, chantingmine, mine, mine.
I went about my usual way of fleeing without much thought, but with every measured step out of her room, her body called to me. She was a siren luring me to a certain death, only to be found between her legs. It wasn’t just her body, though. The sizzle of fate that danced on my skin every time she touched me. Whether it was soft, hard, on purpose, or without meaning. All of it. It all felt like it was destined to be left upon my skin. Branded on my existence. And I was meant to disarm and deserve her right back. I don’t think I’m alright, and now I’m flying to the other side of the fucking country for the weekend and can’t do anything about it.
“I’m fine.”
I am nowhere near fine.
Chapter seven
The metallic taste of my tequila-induced hangover still haunts me as I sway on my seat at family dinner. Gage has been his normal silent self, but Beth hasn’t said more than two words. Her normally bright green eyes are murky and unfocused.
Our meeting with the High Rollers on Friday turned into hours of drinking at their casino late into the night to gain their favour. They invited us back on Saturday to tell us the good news. Smoke and Barrel could indeed open at the old Heart City theatre. This led to, once again, celebrating in their private booths at the nightclub in the casino. They agreed to a fifteen per cent cut, pending review after one year of operation. If it did well, they would let Gage expand Smoke and Barrel to the three other High Roller casinos in the country. We were high on the win and gladly accepted the endless shots, cocktails and spirits that clouded the night’s events. The flight home, where we all still smelled like regret, was accompanied by the sound of Beth purging her sins for the first half hour of our flight home, followed by snores that would put an ogre to shame.
“Here you go, sweetie.” My mother places a glass of fizzing water on the table in front of me. Her familiar lavender perfume fills the air, reminding me of the times as a child when I felt sick. She would sit at my bedside and run her fingers through my hair. The warm, calming smell instantly puts me at ease. I consumeda little too much alcohol this weekend for it to do the trick now, but it still helps a little.
We came straight from the airport to our grandparents’ house for our traditional Sunday dinner, and I feel ready to die or puke. I’m not sure which would be more welcome at this point. Isabelle made a quick escape as soon as we landed, but not before telling me she was calling in sick for tomorrow.
Beth’s wailing makes me shudder when she rests her head on the table. “Make it stop, Mummy.”
“Jesus, how much did you drink?” Mason shouts. Probably not, but it certainly sounds that way. “You smell like the plague, by the way.” He looks over at me with those mismatched blue and green eyes and scrunches his nose.
“I will gut—” Her threat is cut off by a demonic burp, causing us all to grimace as she sends her chair toppling back in her panicked race down the hall, one hand over her mouth.
“Did you let your sister overindulge?” my dad asks from the seat beside me.
His wavy hair, which matches my own, is salted with streaks of white amongst the chestnut brown.
“Let her? There is noletwhen it comes to Beth,” I say.
It makes my head spin to talk. I think we would all benefit from a silent dinner tonight.
“I hope you’re all hungry.” My grandmother enters the dining room, a giant platter filled with roasted vegetables in hand, my grandfather following with a tray of carved meat. My grandmother’s name is responsible for the fortune bestowed upon our family. She and her older sister, Aunt Henrietta, inherited their dad’s mining company, which led to her meeting my grandfather at age nineteen. She was appointed as the spokesperson for H&H Mining when they announced their partnership with his investment company to build a new sports stadium. They started as enemies, but nearly sixty years later, and after he took her name at marriage, he still follows her around like a dependent puppy.
“Looks and smells delicious. Thank you, Grams.” Mason rubs his stomach, and my grandmother smiles at his delight, placing a kiss on top of his head. Her short rose gold hair is meticulously styled. There’s not a moment Grams doesn’t look like a radiant billionaire and effortlessly happy at the same time.
“Dig in, my sweetness. A growing boy needs a good home-cooked meal.” She might be worth billions, but she rarely lets anyone help her in the kitchen. Cooking is her love language. She always waits to eat last whenever we’re together so she can see each of us enjoy her efforts before she starts. Mason, my parents and grandfather all start filling their plates. Beth is still absent from the table while Gage and I stew in the rancid aftereffects of too much alcohol.
“Gage, sweetheart. Can I do up your plate?” My grandmother rests her delicate hand over his tattooed one. Her charm bracelet clatters as it rests against the wooden table, making Gage wince at the sound.
“Sure. Thanks, Grams.” Gage offers her his plate but hesitates for a moment before letting her take it from him. She smiles and begins piling it high with every dish on offer. I see Gage’s eyes cross as she places it back down in front of him. If I weren’t on death’s door, I would laugh at the way his face pales from the sight of it.
Feet shuffle down the hallway as Beth rejoins us. “I think I threw up a kidney.”
