~ ~ Zack ~ ~

Being a God in a world of your own creation is great...

Until you fuck it up and ignore all your own rules.

Grow a conscience.

And catch feelings.

With not one person.  But two.

I scratched at my chest as a fuck-load of feelings—too much, too fast—battered me from all sides.  It was like wearing a shirt made of sandpaper—scratchy, abrasive, and fucking impossible to ignore.

With a bitter laugh, I shook my head. I could almost hear my father from beyond the grave.  Reap what you sow my boy.

Oh, I was reaping it alright.  Fucking Tabitha Stickland strikes again.

But this wasn't all on her. I was knee-deep in a shit-hole of my own doing. Perhaps this was karma at its finest. The past never stayed dead they said; it's more like a relentless stalker, lurking and waiting to take you down.

So what the fuck was I going to do now? How did I deal with the fallout? 

And how ironic a minute ago I'd just given Ivy relationship advice.  Ha. I mean, who was I to be dishing out advice? I'm the last person who should be giving anyone pointers, especially when it came to something as complex as relationships. It's the blind leading the blind, stumbling around in the dark. 

Maybe I shouldn't even try. Cut my losses.

Get back to the life I know... knew. It should be simple, right?

So why did it feel like I was being gutted by a blunt knife— cleaving me into two like a motherfucker?

And then obviously feeling sadistic, my mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, it didn't have to be this way. It didn't have to end like this. Fuck. It didn't have to end at all.

I could explain, and apologise.

Make it right. Fix it.

I scoffed at the thought, my cynicism rearing its ugly head once more. Who was I kidding here? I the bastard who wielded sarcasm and cynicism as a religion.

Rocking back in my chair the silence was deafening, heavy with unspoken words and my fucked up life choices with Ellis's accusations at the forefront. And with that, I picked at the carcass of those choices.  The most worrying being, I'd gone off script. Call it love, in my own flawed, imperfect way.

Again, it was irony at its finest. Just when I'd come to the conclusion I could have something more. Something real. Admitting I was happy with them.

... And, then the proverbial shit hits the fan.

I leaned forward with an irate groan bracing my elbow on the desk to rub my forehead with the hell of a palm. A knock on my door interrupted my self-imposed melodrama.

James popped his head inside but hesitated in the doorway, a sheepish look etched on his face as he peered into my office. His eyes met mine, and I could see the question forming in his mind before he even spoke.

"Did Ellis... quit?" His words came out tentative as if he already knew the answer but needed confirmation.

I shrugged, not bothering to hide my frustration. "He didn't exactly use those words, but yeah, I think he's done."

James let out a relieved sigh, his demeanour shifting from hesitant to smug in an instant. "Good riddance," he muttered under his breath, a self-satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

His words grated on my nerves, but I bit back the retort that threatened to spill from my mouth. Arguing with James was like banging my head against a brick wall—painful and utterly pointless.

Instead, I changed the subject. "Answer me this James, why haven't you cancelled Tabitha's membership?"

James blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "But she's your sister, isn't it time to forgive, move on?"

I blinked. Was he serious?  "Just do it. Today."

"I can't see what the issue is here." His tone poorly concealed his annoyance.

What the fuck was his problem?

I lost my grip on my anger. I was up out of my chair making my way around the table separating us, my entire body clenched tight as I advanced on. My broad figure blocked out the light above and my shadow fell over his smaller frame like a threat. "Have you forgot how this works? I own this club and you're an employee!" I replied my patience as thin as paper. "Just fucking do it, James. Or find yourself another job."

James stuttered out a half-hearted excuse, his apology ringing hollow in my ears. "I'll take care of it this morning," he mumbled, already retreating towards the door.

"Yeah." My eyes narrowed. "You do that."

With the soft click of the door, I returned to my chair and lost myself in work. An hour later there was another knock. Without looking up and with a sigh I called out. "It's open."  Expecting it to be James, I said, "James unless you're here—"

A voice cut in. "Not James," said the last person I was expecting to see again.

Lifting my head, Ellis was standing in the doorway, his backpack slung over his shoulder. Wearing his aptly worded fuck you  tee-shirt. His eyes met mine, and I could see the steely resolve in his gaze, a determination that made me clench the pen in my fingers tighter.

There was so much I should say right now, but the words wouldn't budge.

What the literal fuck was wrong with me? For real. What the fuck!

Finally, it was Ellis who spoke, his voice tight with barely hidden hatred. "I'm only here to tell you, don't hurt her."

I sat there, the weight of his words sinking in like a leaden weight in the pit of my stomach. 

As he turned to leave, a part of me demanded I stop him and ask him to stay. But another part, a voice of reason told me to keep my mouth shut. Let him go. Accept that some mistakes couldn't be undone. Ellis deserved better. They both deserved better.

I managed to string together a sentence. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." The words felt inadequate and hollow.

Ellis didn't turn around and didn't acknowledge my apology. He simply walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a whirlwind of fucked-up emotions which I shoved down with the rest. And so, I watched him go and then scrubbed my face roughly with a hand trying to get a grip. Stop myself from going after him.

Coward. I muttered to myself.

For the next few hours, I stayed holed up in my office, barricading myself against the foreign emotions. But as the minutes stretched into hours, it became increasingly apparent that I could no longer avoid the inevitable. I had to confront the fallout of my past catching up with me. 

I had to face Sasha.

Stepping into my apartment, I slipped off my suit jacket and tossed it onto the sofa and headed into the kitchen.

With her back to me. "Goddammit," Sasha huffed, trying to get the top off a bottle of water.

"Here—" I started as she turned, keeping her gaze lowered, but I could see she'd been crying and it did something to me. I wanted to get the hell out of there because she made me feel far too many things at once. But instead, I held out my hand. "—Give it to me."

Strangling out a gaaaah sound. "Stupid thing's stuck." She handed it to me and I twisted the lid off easily and handed it back. She took it from me and then moved further away, averting her eyes by glaring down at her bare feet. Her words were barely a whisper as she choked out the words. "He's gone. Ellis has gone."

"I know." The shrill cry of Sash'a mobile cut through the rising tension.

"It's daddy. I need to take this," she said, still not looking my way.

Putting the bottle onto the table, she left to take the call. I walked to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of unopened whisky—which wasn't a good idea. Grabbing a glass, I added some ice and poured out a large measure and knocked half of hit back, hardly tasting the damn thing.

The soft padding of bare feet came from down the hall. "Zack?"

I blinked, my body stiffening. Awareness slowly filtered through that I must look spaced out. "What did your father want?"

She didn't answer my question but made a request. "I need to hear it from you—if she was telling the truth."

Knocking back the last of my drink I put the glass down and walked toward her. The innocence of her blue eyes was unable to hide the vulnerability and mixture of confusion and torn loyalties.

Silence reigned for a long moment and I held back from saying anything, not even sure where to start. "C'mon. You might want to sit down for this."

Unlike Ellis, Sasha allowed me to take her hand and followed me into the main room. Dropping her hand, she chose to sit on the chair fetching her legs up to curl them beneath her. I sat on the sofa."Tabitha is a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them."

I watched some of the colour leach from Sasha's cheeks as she took a second to let that sink in and I felt like a right bastard when her lip wobbled before asking.  "So you and her used to—"

"Fuck?" I finished for her.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Yes. And not only her, I was also fucking her twin brother, Miles."

Her eyebrows slashed up. "Oh."

Yeah. Oh. 

And a bitter laugh escaped me, rough and unpolished, as if dragged out from the depths of my guts. "We weren't exactly your average family," I muttered, the words smothered in bitterness. "More like a twisted, fucked-up version of the Brady Bunch. We indulged. Got wasted on alcohol and drugs, and dabbled in all sorts of depravity you wouldn't even believe."

There was no hint of pride in my voice, no sense of accomplishment in my past sins. "Tabitha," I continued, "She was a drug unto herself. My first taste of infatuation, you could say. Beautiful, smart, and morally bankrupt to the core. She was willing to explore the darkest corners of human desire, from breath play to blood play. But what she truly relished was toying with people. Me included."

The memories stirred within me like a nest of vipers, their venomous bite still fresh after all these years. Tabitha's allure was undeniable, her darkness a mirror to my own. But in the end, she was just another chapter in a long line of crazy choices, a cautionary tale of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of feeding one's own sick desires.

I let my head fall back on the sofa. "Tabitha loved her twisted games. Most of them had a wager attached and married couples were a favourite of hers. She had a nose for finding those in financial difficulty and most of them agreed to do anything for money. Sometimes I would fuck the wife or Tabitha would fuck the husband.  But what she got off on was humiliation.  And what's more humiliating for your typical alpha male than to take it up the ass?" I exhaled a long-winded breath.  "None of the marriages we played with lasted three months after our little games."

"Wow." She blew out a breath. "That's..."

"Fucked up?"

"I was gonna say twisted."

It was... but sadly not the worst of it. "For around three years we warred both physically and mentally. She turned my world upside down and inside out. But then I met, Nathaniel. He was best friends with Miles and one Christmas whilst our families were away holidaying he stayed with us." 

I still remembered everything about Nathaniel. From his dirty blond hair and easy smile to that strong jawline and piercing eyes that looked straight through me. 

"We flirted, tested the waters, hand jobs, oral...but it was obvious he was more into Tabitha." I paused nodding slowly. "Tabitha jumped on that and made him a deal."

"Did you love him, Nathaniel?" Sasha interrupted.

A shrug was all I offered in answer. "Tabitha thought I did and being the jealous harpy she was, she told him if he wanted her, he had to let me fuck him first, and she wanted to him him beg for my cock whilst she watched and recorded it."

Sasha's jaw dropped. "And he agreed?"

"It took a little motivation in the form of nose candy, but yeah, he agreed."

"Oh," she repeated.

Oh was an understatement.

Sasha scoffed. "He must have really liked her, huh?"

"Yeah," I scoffed. "But before I'd even binned the condom she was all up in his face ridiculing him, calling him pathetic and he was the last man she would ever want."

Sasha's lips parted around a gasp. "So what happened?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. He dressed in record time and got the hell out of there. I went after him but Miles stopped me, telling me to stay away from him that I'd done enough damage."

Perhaps Sasha would now see what a bastard I was. I knew Tabitha was playing him. But being a selfish cunt I did it anyway. "I tried to apologise but he threw it back in my face. Not that I blamed him."

"Wait. Why do I sense you're leaving something out."

As always too observant for her own good.  "Four months later an invite arrived to Nathaniel's and his fiancée's engagement celebration."

"I'm surprised he sent an invite."

"He didn't. Our families moved in the same circles and the night went without incident until..." I closed my eyes for a second. "Tabitha decided to reveal what happened between us, on loudspeaker, flashing her phone toward his fiancée."

"Jesus." Sasha sucked in a breath her eyes bugging out. "She's the devil incarnate!"

I merely quirked a brow.

"I'm thinking that went down like a joke at a funeral, huh?"

"Worse."

"Worse? What could be worse?"

"His fiancée bolted and Nathaniel went after her. A few hours later we got a call that they'd run off the road. She was dead and Nathaniel lost an arm."

Sasha's hand shot over her mouth. "Oh my god, Zack!"

That look in her eyes, right there, was the one I'd been afraid of seeing.

Time to wrap this up. No point in dragging it out. I wanted her to leave equally as much as I wanted her to stay. "I think it best we end our arrangement. You should go home."

"What! Go? As in go home back to the States? You can't blame yourself for what happened. Yeah, it's pretty shocking but it's nothing to do with what we have—the three of us."

"You're wrong, Sasha, I don't blame myself, see how fucked up that makes me?"

She blinked. "I guess it makes you human." Dropping her legs she got up and came and kneeled beside me. Lifting her chin, she tossed her hair back. "But you're not like that now. You've changed."

"You're are avoiding the issue, Sasha."

She rolled her eyes. "And what's the issue, Zack?"

"Tabitha wasn't the first. Other women have been involved in my seductions. I considered straight men a challenge. I enjoyed it." I stroked the curve of her cheek with my knuckles, urging her to see what I was capable of. "I use people. I've used any means necessary to get what I want. I'm the walking definition of a cunt without the warmth or the depth." I couldn't pretend any different.

"But you didn't do that with me." Her glare hardened, as though daring me to argue with her. "Or Ellis."

Her trust almost humbled me. I certainly didn't deserve it. Part of me wanted her to hate me so she could save herself. "Are you so sure, Sasha?"

"Yes, and we should get on a plane and go tell Ellis the same." Her eyes flooded with misguided hope. "Make him hear the truth."

"And what is the truth?"

"Duh. That you care for us. Want us both."

Her smile brightened her entire face. The beauty of it hurt. It made me ache. But it couldn't be that simple. "Ellis is angry and hurt. And he has every right to be."

"Yeah, okay. I guess, but once he's calmed down, I know then he will be open to listening. He cares for you and me. I know it. I felt it."

Say we did that and it went exactly how she wanted—What then? We still had a problem with Max and Ryan. "No. It's done. This ends now. Ellis has already gone home and you're going home too."

The hope in her eyes dulled. "What—you're not willing to try. You don't want me?"

"Can't you see this will never work out, not long term? I'm a selfish bastard, Sasha."

Stands of hair wavered around her burning cheeks and heaving chest. She shrugged, with, "No. No, you're not. This is not over. Me, Ellis and you. It's far from over. I won't let it be."

She was beautiful in her defiance.

Infuriatingly stubborn.

Gloriously obstinate.

But I was just as pigheaded and heaving a mental sigh, closing my eyelids and rubbing my tired eyes with my thumb and middle finger. She needed to witness my cruelty first-hand. "Up."

"What?" she rose to her feet.

"C'mon, we going downstairs. Into the club."

Rocking back on her heels something else shifted through those blues. Desire. It tightened my chest, pulling even tighter at her hitched breath. "What? Right now, should I change?"

It was irrelevant. "No." She wouldn't be wearing them for long.

Pushing up, I took her hand.

"Zack, wait."

"No. You refuse to see it. But you will."

Standing next to me in the elevator her hand had grown clammy in mine. But about to do something that would ultimately end in her hating me, I wanted this one last thing.

Turning to her, she looked up and I latched my hands around her hips, tugging her close, the heat of her body warming my own and melting against me.

I kissed her.

And this was the one I loved the most.

It was achingly sweet, and threaded with relief and need. Something I usually fought hard against.

Sasha sighed sinking into my touch, her eyes fluttering shut as my hand slipped to the back of her neck and angled her head to deepen the kiss. She hadn't judged or condemned me for my past sins, her kiss also spoke to me in ways far better than if she'd opened her mouth and tried to speak.

I kissed her like I had forever. A kiss that she might think was a promise of many more to come. 

But that would be a lie.

As this would be our last.