Dangerous Games Read online

  Professor Klitzmensch had obviously found out I’d been involved and this was her revenge.

  I crossed my arms against my breasts. “Fine. I’ll leave.”

  The professor smiled. “Good. I will inform the Dean. Please let us know where you decide to set up camp next.”

  I rolled my eyes after I turned away from the bitch Professor and walked out of her classroom.

  Amaani waited for me outside. “What the hell was that about?”

  “Professor Bitchmensch has blamed me for the humiliation her daughter suffered during ‘Hazing Week’ and therefore has threatened to expose me of cheating if I don’t leave the university.”

  “Shit,” my roommate cursed before a shaky hand tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “It was so cool having you as a roomie and I am not going to lie. I kind of got used to that money you were giving me. I don’t know what I am going to do next semester.”

  I turned towards her and smiled. “How would you like to attend Boston University?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “You’re a straight-A student, Amaani, and if I can get it worked out then I can get us both transferred there. We can still be roomies off campus and I can help you out. You don’t think I am going to start studying just because I will be going to another school? I hate it here on the west coast anyway. Boston is so cool and I have a lot of family back there.”

  Amaani thought for exactly a couple minutes before she smiled at me. “Well, if you can manage it but what about my scholarship?”

  “I’ll pay your tuition until you get your scholarship paperwork worked out. I have a trust fund, remember? It has over one hundred thousand dollars in it and that’s the account I have access to. I can easily pay for you. I just have to work fast. Meet me in our dorm room at six this evening. I have to make some calls and then I will let you know.”

  “Okay,” she responded.

  As soon as she disappeared around the corner, I grabbed my Ulysse Nardin and began to make the necessary phone calls.

  By five that evening, everything was worked out, and I was more than happy—more like elated. I’d already purchased my ticket to the destination I always intended to return. Not to Los Angeles but to Boston Logan International Airport. I’d also purchased a ticket for Amaani to Amsterdam Schiphol International Airport. I wanted her to be able to see her family before she started at Boston University.

  Normal people couldn’t accomplish what I could but the difference happened to be that I was very wealthy and all it took was a tearful phone call to my father about how I was being bullied at the University of Washington and he immediately made the phone calls. Next thing I knew it, both my roomie and I were transfer students to Boston University and like that, we would start that Autumn on September fourth.

  Amaani couldn’t believe it but the look on her face when I handed her the round trip ticket to Amsterdam made me actually feel like a decent human being.

  “Evie, how can I repay you?”

  “Don’t stand me up on the first day of school,” I replied humorously.

  “That isn’t funny. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

  She embraced me and reluctantly let go. “Thank you for everything.”

  “No problem at all.” I stood and started to walk out of the room. “I haven’t told my mother yet so that is a phone call I won’t put you through. I’ll go outside to make it.”

  The door to our room clicked shut and my heart began to beat double time. She wouldn’t be happy at all. She hated the east coast and she didn’t want me to ever stay long term in Boston but it wasn’t really her decision. Partly because I planned to spend the summer there too and that might just make her come undone.

  I called her number and her phone was picked up but the voice was masculine and French-accented. “’Allo?”

  “Hey, is my mother there? It’s Evie, her daughter,” I replied awkwardly.

  “Oh, it is nice to finally speak to you, Elvira! I can’t wait to meet you. Unfortunately, Athena is in the middle of a difficult scene that has taken up half the night. Those bastards won’t let her leave until they finish it properly. Fucking assholes!” he exclaimed before he cursed in a string of French.

  I laughed out loud. “I like you already. First lesson in the movie industry: it isn’t that different from the modeling industry. If you remember that then you will do just fine as my mother’s husband.”

  “Je m’excuse—I didn’t mean to be so rude. I should have introduced myself but it is a bit awkward over the phone. Etienne Fournier at your service although it is much more charming when I do it in person,” he responded. “Athena has told me a lot about you although I can’t say it has all been good.”

  “I don’t take offense. I put my mother through hell so she has every reason to talk about me in less than flattering terms. She’s going to hate me even more when I tell her I am not spending the summer in L.A.”

  “Well, where will you go?” his tone had changed from joking to ultra serious. “Are you thinking about taking a trip to Europe or something?”

  “No, nothing like that,” I responded. I wished I had a cigarette but then I realized I’d quit and he couldn’t argue with me about my decision since he wasn’t my mother’s husband yet. “I’m gonna spend the summer in Boston and I’ve already bought my ticket. Maybe you shouldn’t tell her right after she finishes her scene. Allow her a little downtime because she is going to blow a gasket when she realizes I’m not going back to L.A.”

  “Not to be nosy but what happened to her back there in Boston? She hates the place—I wanted to visit but she outright refused. You’d think it was the birthplace of the anti-Christ or something.”

  I opened my mouth but that truly was knowledge my mother should share with him instead of me; I had no wish to discuss my family with a stranger. “It’s a long story but all you need to know is she doesn’t it like it there and rarely visits if she can help it. She won’t be pleased about me going there either but I’m not ready for L.A., not yet at least. If she insists on a visit, I can take the train down to New York or something. Just tell her this was my decision and I will call her as soon as I get situated. My plane leaves tomorrow morning so I am going to bed early and will contact her soon.”

  Etienne was quiet for a moment. “Okay, I will tell her. Take care of yourself and I will talk her down before she calls you. The last thing you need is an overly dramatic mother yelling in your ear after eight hours of travel.”

  “Thank you. We have yet to meet but I already like you.”

  “Oh you flatter me, Evie. Have a good flight and good night.”

  “Thank you. Good night.”

  Our phone call ended and I pressed my phone to my chest. There were so many people in Boston I wanted to call but at the same time, I wanted it to be a surprise. I couldn’t wait to get out of this cold, miserable place.

  My flight to Boston from Seattle-Tacoma International Airport went off without a hitch and I arrived in the city I’d called home for the first eight years of my life enthused and giddy despite the exhaustion that hadn’t set in though I knew it would eventually.

  I checked my phone while I waited at the baggage carousel and wasn’t surprised to find several messages, all but one of them, from my mother.

  “How could you do this to me? Don’t you understand how embarrassing it all is? None of them give a damn about you and all they’ll do is ask you for money. I have already contacted your grandparents and told them to send you away when you show up so don’t expect a warm welcoming from them. When you come to your senses, call me back and let me know when I should expect you in L.A.”

  I pressed the delete button and listened to the final message. “Hey, gorgeous, it’s Dylan, your cousin—remember me? I’m not staying in Dorchester anymore but own a cute little walk-up in the gentrified area of Charlestown.”

  I smiled as I listened to the rest of the message before he gave me his address and instructed me to call him as
soon as I was on my way. I grabbed the two Hartmann spinners I owned—both hard-sided to prevent damage to my precious clothing cargo—and walked out of the airport to flag a cab down.

  It didn’t take me long to find one and I quickly hopped in before I gave the driver the address, some double-digit numbered house on School Street and wondered how well I would adjust to my new surroundings. It didn’t take too long for me to find out when less than forty minutes later we were pulling up to a swanky single-family, three-story home painted gray and obviously built within the past ten years. Although it only had a one car garage, there was obvious a vehicle parked inside and late-model, pearl white Cadillac Escalade blocking the garage.

  I didn’t get the chance to ring the door before my cousin ran out barefoot in nothing but a pair of black stovepipe jeans and a matching wife-beater. I threw my arms around his neck as he twirled me around.

  “How’s my favorite baby cousin been doin’?” Dylan exclaimed happily in that thick Bostonian accent of his that was pure Dorchester even if he was residing in Charlestown now.

  “I’m doin’ good,” I replied before I held him at arm’s length to get a good look at him.

  Dylan had always been thin but now he was firmly a man at twenty-five who obviously lifted weights though he was still lean. His skin, the color of alabaster, suited his short dark hair and piercing blue-gray eyes so prevalent in the McKenna clan though they firmly came from my grandmother’s side of the family. Before Cleona had been a McKenna, she’d been a Donahue, hence where my mother had gotten her stage name from. She thought Athena Donahue would sound better than Athena McKenna and she was right.

  My cousin grabbed my suitcases, paid the driver and we walked inside. The place was complete with blonde hardwood floors and minimal furniture. There’d obviously been some kind of get-together the night before because the place smelled heavily of stale beer, marijuana and cigarettes.

  I turned toward Dylan and stared at him as I cocked my head to the side. “The dope business must be good. How much did a place like this cost you?”

  “Can you believe the yuppie bastards I brought this place from wanted nearly a mil for it but I Jewed ‘em down to eight hundred grand. I was payin’ in cash and they liked that a hell of a lot better than havin’ to deal with a bank and transferring mortgages and shit. It allowed ‘em to pay off the mortgage they had and I got this dope fuckin’ pad away from my parents.”

  He walked towards me and I found myself backing up self-consciously until my back hit a wall. “What are you doin’ here? Your mother is raisin’ all kinds of stink about you being back here. Hell, even Patrick and Clara are frightened you’re gonna pay them a visit and take away their precious bundle. You didn’t come back to do that, did ya?”

  I shook my head. “What the fuck am I going to do with a kid? I just couldn’t handle L.A. right now and the first place I thought about was here. I even transferred to Boston Uni because I didn’t want to stay in Seattle.”

  “Good, just stay away from Fiona and her gang of friends, including Chloe. If you can manage that then you should be fine. I don’t want you turnin’ into a skank like my sister, you got that? It’s rough out here.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know it by the way you’re flossin’,” I responded sarcastically.

  “What can I say? The Oxy and coke markets are good. Especially now those Oxyballs have gotten so popular. I try to stay from that Bath Salt crap—too much weird psycho shit I’ve seen people do when they are on it…but I got help and I am not runnin’ this organization alone.”

  “No doubt you gotta give McGee a cut?”

  “Well, you know how it is? The more things change, the more they stay the fuckin’ same.”

  “You can say that again,” another male voice said and when I turned its way, the face and body I saw took my breath away.

  Finn heard her voice from the moment she’d entered the residence he and Dylan co-owned together but he was frozen in place. Recently dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and short sleeved black-patterned flannel shirt, he wasn’t sure he was ready to see her again.

  It wasn’t like anything had changed. Hell, it had been four goddamn years and nothing had changed for him. They were both older now—he was twenty-four and she was almost twenty—but other than that, he could tell from the sound of her voice she was still the same person. They had history and although it only seemed like yesterday when he and his mother had moved over from Northern Ireland, he and Dylan were still best friends and thick as thieves. That included running their lucrative drug trade of Oxycontin or “Blue” as it was known on the street and cocaine.

  The two drugs were a powerful combination and most people trusted Oxy more than they did heroin because at least they knew what potency level they were getting. None of the guess work as they had beginners, intermediate and advanced they sold—according to the strength of the milligram—and a cousin who had a connection courtesy of being a drug rep for one of the most profitable companies in the country.

  On the coke side, they had a sweet Dominican connection thanks to Dylan’s girlfriend who was half through her mother’s side while her father was a guinea but she was cool people. However, something told him she and Evie were not gonna get along.

  Finbar Reilly—though everyone called him Finn—walked down the stairs and caught Dylan and Evie in a compromising position indeed. Everyone pretended not to know, though it was pretty much an open family secret, they’d had an affair after his mother had sent him back to Ireland after the incident four years ago. By the time he’d come back, the damage had been done and there was nothing left. Decisions had already been made and Evie was long gone, called back to L.A. by her parents.

  Finn was a good looking guy and although he and Dylan could have passed for brothers with their identical tall, lean figures, matching complexions and accents that were damn near identical, Finn had blondish-brown hair and crystal blue eyes with perfect Irish features including a straight Roman nose, cheekbones most women would kill for and sensual slightly-full lips.

  Once again he found himself mesmerized in the beauty that was Evie. Although she could dye her hair any color she wanted, she preferred honey-blonde with flaxen high-lights. Her eyes were definitely her most arresting trait for they were gray with blue striations one only noticed in certain lighting. She had a perfect peaches and cream complexion and the body that went with the face was no less than amazing.

  She was slender with just the right amount of tits and ass, firm thighs and flat stomach. He had never liked super-skinny chicks and at a size six, she was perfect as far as he was concerned.

  Before he could stop himself, Finn said something but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember once she looked in his direction. She moved Dylan to the side and walked toward him.

  “Finn, is that you? Really you?” she whispered.

  “Nah, Evie, you’re lookin’ at a mirage.”

  She smiled at him before she bit her lip and ran towards him before collapsing his arms. He held her tightly. “I thought I would never see you again. I thought maybe my parents had you arrested or they barred you from the States for good. When you were sent back to Omagh it was the hardest time in my life. I hated my parents because I thought they did it just to keep us apart and that tore at my heart.”

  “It’s all good. Nice thing about being sent back to Northern Ireland is I have both an Irish and British passport so I just traveled a bit and high-tailed it outta there as soon as possible. I spent some time in Tenerife, Thailand, France, Germany, Cyprus and everywhere in between. You weren’t too wrong about being barred though. I’ve only been back here in Boston for the past couple of years but Dylan and I kept in touch. As soon as I got back in town, McGee moved us up in the organization and we’re responsible for all the drugs on this side of town,” he explained in a soft yet masculine voice.

  “You mean, you’re not dealin’?”

  “A lot has changed, baby girl. I ain’t dealt since I was twe
nty-two,” Dylan interrupted as he grabbed a Marlboro from a pack on the coffee table and lit up. “Like I told you, we distribute to other dealers—we don’t deal.”

  “Dylan, why didn’t you tell me we had company—who the fuck is this Barbie-lookin’ skank?”

  The unmistakable hard-ass, Boston-accented voice of Carmelita Andolino rang out loud and clear. Finn turned his attention to her and wondered what his cousin saw in her. She was a decent lookin’ girl with dark olive skin, brown eyes and cascades of long dark hair liberally frosted with champagne chunk highlights identical to Gemma Teller Morrow on Sons of Anarchy. Her slim body—bordering on being emaciated due to the amount of Oxyballs she did on a regular basis—was showcased in a pair of black Juicy Couture sweat pants and a pink, short-sleeved tee shirt with Juicy Couture written across her natural D-cup breasts.

  “Lita, this is my cousin, Evie. Evie, this is my girlfriend.”

  Carmelita smiled wryly as she placed talon-length nails with the requisite French manicure—though her tips were black with diamond Cs for Chanel—on slender hips. “I heard about you. You’re that famous bitch’s daughter, aren’t ya? I also heard about what went down between you and Dylan. Guess again, bitch, because I will kill you if you lay a hand on my man.”

  Finn rolled his eyes as he slid Evie behind him in a protective manner. “Why don’t you calm the fuck down with a goddamn blue or better yet shut the fuck up and snort another Oxyball? She didn’t come here for Dylan because Evie’s mine and she’s always belonged to me.”

  Carmelita flashed dark eyes Evie’s way before she stared at Dylan again. “Is this true? Did she come here to be with Finn or what?”

  “Actually, she’s transferring to Boston University, and decided to spend the summer here. You should treat my little cousin with more respect as she’s actually entered a university and not for the sake of keeping it clean,” Dylan replied in a wry voice.