Identical Disaster (The Sterling Shore Series Book 8) Read online

  She takes a breath, then laughs all of the sudden, surprising me as she shakes her head, lost in her own thoughts. “I thought she was just some crazy rich girl who was going to get herself killed. She showed up in an alley when some dickhead thought he could have it free if he just took it. Bo pulled out her pepper spray, and I was sooo thankful she had good aim. Her friend Ruby took over and beat the guy over the head with a metal trashcan lid until he was out cold.”

  She snorts while trying to suppress her laughter, and her eyes flick to Bo. She stares at her as she sighs and continues. “I thanked them and started to walk away from the dark alley, but Bo caught my hand. She didn’t let go until she told me she could change my life if I wanted something better. Something more…

  “At first I was defensive, and I told her that spoiled, rich brats like her didn’t know what it took to survive. Ruby got pissed and tried to drag Bo away. She rightfully said I was ungrateful. But Bo wouldn’t go. She locked eye contact with me before saying, ‘You’re right; I can’t change your life. I can only help you do it if you want to. What do you want?’ I’ll never forget that. My parents had died my senior year of school, and I quit school when child services threatened to put me in foster care until I was eighteen. We were so poor, so there was nothing left in that town after they died. I ran away with the dream to become a model in New York, then landed in the devil’s playground by accident.”

  She scratches her arm at the inside of her elbow as though it itches, but I’ve seen that motion before. She’s remembering the addiction. Working with some of the rich clients I’ve had… Not all of them have spent money wisely.

  “Insane or not, I wanted away from the drug that ruled me. I wanted to feel free from its hold, and I sure as hell wanted away from the Anti Prince Charming who took what he wanted when he wanted it. I was nineteen at the time. Bo was a year younger and had so many years of wisdom on me that it wasn’t even fair.

  “She and Ruby walked me to a limo—a freaking limo—and I got in, still wondering if they were playing some cruel joke on the stupid, dirty hooker. Ruby had to be somewhere, so we dropped her off, but Bo stayed with me, talking to me like I was just as good as her, never once mentioning what I did to make a living. Then… we ended up at a downtown rehab center only the rich and famous attended.”

  She smiles fondly again, still staring at Bo who waves in our direction. I awkwardly wave back, and Carmen just smiles bigger.

  “She took me inside, talked to some woman for a minute, and then came back to tell me they would keep me there as long as I would let them. I was in no way going to be forced to stay. She promised they’d get me clean if I let them, and that she was paying for everything.”

  She laughs while wiping away another few tears, and she looks back to meet my eyes.

  “At first I thought I was dreaming, but detoxing was one hell of a pinch to let me know I was awake—I’ll spare you the ugly details. Long story short, I stayed for two months before feeling confident I was clean, but I had nowhere to go when I walked out the doors. To my surprise, there was Bo. She had come for me. That damn limo was waiting again, and we took it to a private freaking jet that flew us here to this home. I felt like a Princess—still do. Bo gave me clothes, introduced me to the people living here at the time, and they took me in with open, loving arms. They were all like me, but had their own stories to tell. It was our own private support group, and we’d all been saved.”

  She gestures around us, motioning to all the people who are laughing and talking with each other as though they’re all as close as can be.

  “Vince and Bo employ all of us—if we want a good paying job. They always employ people who are grateful for work, not people who feel entitled to a job. He owns his own record label and has numerous workers like us. His band is still in business, and the ones who help with setup and everything are people like us. Some of the bands on his label are people like us who had the talent to go big. And he has numerous website positions filled by people like us. Bo’s company is a haven for those who would be turned down by any other business because of our past or lack of experience.”

  Pretty sure my heart is trying to slide down to my stomach, because it’s slippery as fuck inside my chest right now.

  “Wow,” is the one stupid thing that comes out of my mouth.

  “That’s so amazing.” Viv’s voice is startling from behind me, but Carmen is just smiling like she knew she was listening in. I never knew she was anywhere around.

  “Sorry,” Viv murmurs as she looks down and comes closer. “I couldn’t help but overhear, and I couldn’t stop listening.”

  “It’s okay,” Carmen says with a shrug. “No one here is ashamed of our stories. We share them with anyone inside the safe homes. It’s helped us heal and move forward so that we don’t stay tethered to the past.”

  “So this whole time you all knew Vince had two daughters, but everyone has kept it quiet?” Viv asks, holding her drink to her chest and leaning in like she’s hanging on Carmen’s every word.

  “Yes,” Carmen says with a smile. “They trust us, and that trust means more to all of us than you could ever understand. They felt we were worth it, when the rest of the world had written us off. So no one here is speaking.”

  Viv clicks her tongue and acts like she’s thinking before saying the stupidest thing she can. “You could make a small fortune if you spilled the beans on a story like that.”

  Carmen stiffens visibly, and her warm gaze turns cold. Pretty sure she wouldn’t hesitate to kick Viv’s ass, but my sister is just musing aloud. Not threatening anything.

  “What did you say?” a man asks, just as two others come closer—too close.

  Viv shrinks back to be almost behind me again, and I debate whether or not she’s worth turning into a human shield for.

  “Sorry. I was just amazed at the restraint. I wasn’t threatening anything like that. I promise. I have more money than I need,” she lies, well sort of. She has plenty of money—enough to keep her from doing something like that. She hasn’t blown her trust, surprisingly. It’s the one thing she keeps a secret from Dixon.

  Clearing my throat, I try to sound a little less idiotic than her and ask the question I think she was going for. “Why do they keep it quiet?”

  Everyone around us relaxes a little, but Viv still gets wary glances in her direction.

  “Because everyone would expect a handout if they learned what Vince does,” Carmen says, turning her attention back to me. “Vince doesn’t hand out anything. You earn it by accepting the first stage of help you need. You earn it by living in one of these houses and getting better—turning whole and going to therapy. You earn it by trying to be a good person. You earn it by helping someone new when they come into the house. You earn it by taking on the responsibility of a job and doing your best. Then, when you’re ready to stand on your own two feet, you earn it by staying on the right path. Not everyone wants to earn it. Some just want to be taken care of while continuing to destroy their own lives. Vince is an excellent judge of character. So is Bo. So is her sister, usually. They keep us safe by being secret heroes, and they never expect anything in return but the promise you’ll change your life for the better.”

  Viv nods like she understands, and a small smile tries to form on my lips. Bo and Vince could rock the world with a PR campaign like this, but it would defeat the good they’re trying to do, so they keep it hidden.

  My smile falls when I think of what an ass I’ve been—purposely making her uncomfortable since I found out she wasn’t Bora. I’ve also been passive aggressive, even though she hasn’t so much as batted an eye. In fact, she hasn’t gotten pissed at me once.

  Irritated? Yes. Annoyed? Definitely. Pissed? Not even close. I almost wonder if Bo even knows how to be angry. The maddest she’s gotten is when I’ve mentioned Bora.

  I’m going to hell for trying to piss off a saint who is pretending to be a sinner.

  How did my life get so complicated?
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  “I’m sorry I offended everyone with that comment. I promise I was just thinking aloud,” Viv rushes on to say, slicing through my thoughts.

  My eyes drift over to Bo as she brushes her hair from her face, and the light from the fire illuminates her in a way that almost makes her look forbidden.

  Apparently I’m waxing poetic bullshit now, too. Fuck my day.

  “What’s on your mind?” Viv asks me as Carmen goes to scoop up the young Kimbo and shower him with kisses that have him laughing.

  Something tugs at my stomach, and I half wonder if it’s guilt for not being a fucking saint, too.

  My eyes move back to Bo as she smiles shyly at me and returns her attention to Kimbo as Carmen puts him down. Viv nudges me when I don’t answer, and I clear my throat.

  “I’m thinking I want to get to know Bo better.”

  “Yeah,” Viv sighs. “And to think I was under the impression she didn’t deserve you. Now I realize you’re the one who doesn’t deserve her.”

  I cock my eyebrow while turning back to gaze down at my sister, but she just stares defiantly up at me.

  “Don’t give me that look. I know how you treat girls.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but a deep, accented voice comes from behind me, and I tense all over.

  “And how exactly does he treat da girls?”

  Viv pales, and I mentally curse her as she gapes over my shoulder and back at me, panic in her eyes. I’m going to duct-tape her mouth shut for the rest of the night.

  Slowly, with a begrudged motion, I turn to face the monstrous beast of a man they call Amani, and then tilt my head back so I can see his eyes. Holy shit. He’s at least seven feet tall, his muscles have muscles, and he looks like he wants to slice my head off my shoulders.

  And he’s a trained killer?

  I can’t even feel bad about feeling intimidated.

  “He… I didn’t mean… I… need a drink,” Viv stammers, and my lips tighten as she runs away, abandoning me with a man who definitely hates my guts. No doubt about it.

  “You can answer me,” he says, glaring at me like he’s trying to burrow holes through my skull with just that scathing look.

  “I treat them like they treat me,” I tell him, not confessing how I pick girls with certain traits like Bora had.

  His gaze narrows. “Vince told me you’re a MMA fighter.”

  Yeah… Not letting him think I can hold my own in a fight sounds like a good idea. I prefer not to find out if I can take him or if I’d be a punching bag.

  “I mostly run a gym,” I announce.

  I’ve never felt like a pussy in all my life until this moment.

  “But you like to fight,” he tells me, not phrasing it like a question.

  “Um… I like an organized fight with officials and all that. It’s just a hobby.”

  “Men with rage inside them like to fight. Men with rage inside them hurt women.”

  My eyes widen and I shake my head. “Hell no. I’ve never touched a girl like that. I don’t even allow guys like that in my gym. I only fight fair in an organized, official setting, and only with other men.”

  Holy shit. Why is my voice up two octaves?

  He runs his eyes down the length of my body before meeting my gaze again. That look is murderous. Literally.

  “If you ever touch Bo, I will remove your balls. If you fight me when I remove your balls, I will feed them to you when I’m done. This is no empty threat. Understand me?”

  Motherfucking hell.

  My throat bobs up and down more times than I care to admit before I nod once.

  A white, full-tooth smile flashes at me before he claps me on the shoulder so hard that it forces out the breath I’ve been holding.

  “Good. We understand each other then.”

  I see Bo watching us with a wary gaze, and Amani gives her a small wave, seeming far less intimidating as he speaks through his smile low enough for only me to hear.

  “I hate carving up balls, so remember this conversation,” he says, never losing his smile, acting as though he didn’t just make a genuine threat.

  Bo smiles back, apparently convinced we’re in a good conversation over here, and she turns back around, while I fight the reflexive urge to grab and shield my manhood.

  Amani’s smile disappears in that next instant, and he growls—actually growls—as he walks away, sending death threats silently with those freakishly dark eyes. It’s not until he’s out of sight that I actually unclench my asshole and take a breath.

  Bo waves me over, and I walk on unsteady legs to join her as we sit down around the fire and listen to more survivor tales. By the third heart-wrenching story, I forget about Amani because there are true stories of horror that will forever alter the way I see people.

  And Bo helped change their lives.

  Viv’s right; I sure as fuck don’t deserve her.

  Chapter 21

  BO

  Arms are holding me to a warm body, and my eyes flutter open as sunlight streams in. A slow smile curves my lips when Jax mutters something in his sleep. He talks in his sleep a lot, but it’s not easy to understand any of it.

  This morning he’s muttering about balls and needing them, but I have no idea what he’s talking about. He stirs before pulling me a little closer, and I just relax in his arms.

  He’s been different since the other night when everyone shared their tales as they always do at those functions. It’s painful to hear so many tales of pain and tragedy, but it’s their way of letting it go and moving forward. The least I can do is listen.

  Jax has been less sexual and more… cuddly? I’m not sure how to describe it. All I know is that I like the change.

  Small, innocent kisses start being pressed against my shoulder as he rouses from sleep, and I try not to smile like a love-sick teenager in bed with her crush.

  “Fuck, I need coffee before I attempt the torture called cardio,” he grumbles against my skin, holding me a little closer. “You?”

  “Please,” I say softly.

  Lazily, he slowly pulls away from me, and I try not to focus on the pang of disappointment I feel when I lose his touch. With sluggish, somewhat sideways steps, he lumbers out of the bedroom, and I bite back my smile.

  My phone rings… Well, Bora’s phone rings. Glancing at the door, I crawl off the bed and grab it from the dresser, tensing when I see “Sister Sister” flash across the screen.

  Yeah, it’s a cliché show title to use, but I couldn’t have “Bo” scrolling across the screen if she called me.

  “Hey,” I answer quietly, going to shut the door. “What’s up?”

  “Long story short, we’re rolling out the fall line earlier than expected so people can start placing orders. You haven’t been checking your emails, which is why I’m calling. Have you done any new designs for the winter line? Deadline is coming up.”

  I blow out a breath while staring at the ceiling. I haven’t done an ounce of work in over a week now.

  “I have a few designs. I’ll sketch up some new ones soon. We’ve had a busy trip.”

  She grows quiet for a second, and I tense, realizing how that sounded. Before I can pull my foot out of my mouth, Bora speaks again.

  “Awesome. Actually, that’s great. Jax is definitely more your type than mine. But you still need to come home. We have a lot of work to get ready for.”

  I blink a few more times than normal, feeling confused.

  “I’m not screwing Jax, Bora. I just meant it was busy here. Dad’s here.”

  She bursts out laughing, and I roll my eyes. “Well, I’m really glad I didn’t go now. Dad in a house with Jax’s stuffy bitch of a mom? I bet that’s chaos.”

  I start to tell her how it really is, but bite it back when her words finally register.

  “You wouldn’t care?”

  “About what? You and Jax? Hell no. Why would I?”

  “That wouldn’t be… weird?”

  She snorts out another laugh. “Don’t be
ridiculous. I knew him for a hot minute, Bo. There was nothing between us. As long as you can leap the hurdle, don’t hold yourself back because of me. Just remember that he’s a guy who wanted no strings the way I did. Don’t try to change him. Guys don’t change.”

  Sighing, I sit down on the bed, sobering a little as she deflates my bubble.

  “I’m going to stay the remainder of the time, which is officially thirteen more days.”

  “What? No! You can’t. I need you here for the rollout of the fall line!”

  “You know as well as I do that it won’t actually roll out for at least another month. As for the rest, you can do it without me. The deadline for the winter line sketches isn’t until after I get back. I can’t even remember the last time I took a vacation, so I’m owed this.”

  She starts to argue, I can feel it, but she blows out a frustrated breath instead.

  “Fine. Do whatever. Now ask me about my life these days. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in centuries.”

  I feel pathetic because this is the longest I’ve ever gone without talking to my sister, and it sucks. But it’s hard to call her when Jax is around.

  “How’s your life?” I ask, pulling out a change of clothes for the beach. No sense in showering before playing in the sand, especially since I showered last night.

  “It’s great. I met a guy—”

  “Are you serious?” I interrupt, groaning.

  “—and he’s great,” she goes on, acting as though I didn’t just butt in. “In fact, this might possibly be the first time I want more, Bo. This is the real deal.”

  A slow smile curls up on my lips.

  “Really?”

  “Really. Really.” She giggles. She freaking giggles. Bora doesn’t giggle. That’s too girly and annoying for her to do. She heckles gigglers and mocks them relentlessly until their giggle turns into a sob.

  “That’s amazing.”

  “I know. It happened fast. I’ve never once been swept off my feet, but it’s like he really knows me, Bo. I’ve never had this before, and I’ve never wanted it before now. So… Yeah. I’m kinda happy.”