Page 1 of Roots of the Wicked

Chapter One

Chase

In and out of focus, my hazy gaze spanned the length of a small, pale arm resting on my chest. A curtain of thick black hair kept the face hidden, the length stretching across my body. The rumpled bed, the scent of sex still lingering in the air, and my dry mouth offered hints of how my night had gone.

I squeezed my eyes tight in an attempt to recall any time before this moment, with this woman, but only snatches of memories revealed themselves. I eased up, doing my best to avoid rousing her laying naked and half atop me. The sheets had pooled below the curve of her bare ass. Her blue panties had been slung across the tilted lampshade on the bedside table, the rest of our clothes were spread across the floor in discarded heaps.

A sigh of relief eased my mind at the sight of the used condom, stuck to my thigh. I mouthed a silent prayer, grateful I had been lucid enough to use protection. Once I successfully navigated my way from beneath the woman and out of the bed, I snatched some Kleenex from the box that had fallen to the floor. A touch of shame gripped me while I cleaned myself and folded the condom into the wad of tissue.

A glance over my shoulder showed the woman sound asleep. Grabbing my phone, I dragged my wrinkled clothes off the floor before heading into the bathroom. Condom flushed, bladder relieved, I washed my hands and avoided my reflection in the mirror.

A splash of cold water over my face did nothing to break apart the thick layers of fog still clouding my mind. I dried my hands and face with a fresh towel, before I swiped the shiny surface of my phone. Travis Holmes, my assistant, answered on the first ring.

“Good morning boss.”

“Where am I? There is a long-haired brunette with me. Is she authorized?”

My mind called up choppy pieces of the previous night. I had attended some type of social function before I ended up here.

This wasn’t my first time waking up in a hotel room, with a strange woman I couldn’t recall meeting in any capacity. I slipped my feet into my pants, figuring my boxers were still in bed with the woman.

“You attended the Mayor’s Charity benefit for breast cancer awareness, and Paul, your driver, drove you to the Ritz-Carlton afterward.” I didn’t miss the note of sarcasm in his tone. Travis had worked for me long enough to have earned every bit of the sassiness he dished out. “You called me last night, right before the event to book you a room. Oh, and the woman’s authorized.” He paused, no doubt reviewing my schedule for today.

Authorized meant the woman had signed a nondisclosure agreement that prevented her from speaking to the media about our time together. This was my life. I was one of the richest people in the country, but my personal life was a hazard zone of impulsive decisions.

The world revered me as the well put-together billionaire business mogul. One of America’s most sought after bachelors, and financial guru to the stars. The world saw only what it wanted to see. Through camera lenses, televised and written interviews, and the word of the stars that I worked with, I had the perfect life.

The media had turned me into a larger than life character, but half the time I didn’t even feel human. I was a robot. One who smiled for the cameras and maintained the image that had been built for me. Sit here, wear this, recommend that, date her, go there, and smile. My days were filled with work and tight schedules, performing to intrigue a large-scale audience.

Truth was, I was the loneliest person in the world. The ruthless women I met had turned me into a cynic who no longer cared about an endearing relationship. Alcohol fueled one-night stands with women that appealed as only a means to satisfy my sexual needs, suited me just fine.

The media casted me as the man that had it all, charm, good looks, and wealth, but emotionally, I was starved. My heart wept to be tethered to something meaningful. It was too bad I had yet to figure out what that something was, or how to attain it.

I made every attempt not to complain or appear ungrateful as the media publicity had been the catalyst for me reaching my billionaire’s status. It had also earned me appearances on television shows and cameos in blockbuster movies. I was a businessman who had A-list celebrities on his personal call list. I swallowed the self-pity I rarely allowed to surface, and pushed on.

“How busy am I today?” I asked Travis.

“In an hour, you have breakfast with Randolph Eubanks, Chairman of the Board at Barents Technologies. At nine, you have your bi-weekly staff meeting. Then, a meeting with Mr. Tim Ware, editor of Impress Magazine, to discuss your upcoming photo spread and interview.” Travis sighed. “Should I keep going?”

“No.” I gripped my aching head, my temples throbbing against my fingertips. “Can you ensure Miss—?” I couldn’t recall the name of the woman I had just slept with hours ago.

“I’ll make sure Ms. Delaney gets home okay.” Travis finished for me. “And Paul is already waiting for you downstairs.”

“Thanks,” I called to him before hanging up. I threw on my shirt and eased out of the bathroom. On my way out, I retrieved my wallet from the bedside table, slipped into my shoes, and crept silently across the room.

In addition to my missing boxers, I was also leaving my overcoat. The cold of January would only nip at me for a few seconds, because Paul would have the car warm and ready. The last thing I wanted, was to face the woman I couldn’t remember, nor could I recall her face. She along with my missing clothes were hidden among the broken fragments of a memory nearly faded away.

How much longer would I be able to maintain this lifestyle before my mind imploded? Better yet, how much longer before my lonely heart turned cold?

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