Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2) Read online

  She was not ready to deal with Mason after all the bullshit that had plagued her for the past eight months. Between Mason’s discarding her like a used rag, the psycho tormenting her every day with threats and letters and the fire practically destroying her life with the light of a single match, she was hanging precariously from an extremely thin thread. She wasn’t sure if its snapping would be a blessing, or another calamity to add to the growing shit pile she trudged through each day.

  Life seemed to plough on in spite of everything, just as sure as the sun and the moon rose each morning and set each night. Mikala was worn down and exhausted from the fight, ready to give in, however surrendering wasn’t an option at this point.

  She closed her eyes and sucked in a long deep breath as she brought her phone to life and typed a text. Hearing his voice would prove too difficult to resist as his needy rasp rummaged from her ear to her heart.

  I don’t want 2 talk. I’m doing just fine without u.

  It wasn’t but a few seconds later when Mikala’s phone announced a reply.

  I deserve that. I wanted 2 know u r safe.

  Mikala decided no further reply was necessary as she switched her phone off and threw it onto the bed.

  She gathered her things and went for a shower before settling into the terribly uncomfortable bed. Lumpy was an understatement for the bowling ball sized wads of batting and sharp snaking coils held within the mattress. The strong smell of bleach was beginning to nauseate her, but the thought of opening a window to let in fresh air was a less than advantageous idea, seeing as it was not a favorable area of town.

  After spraying her pillow with perfume, she got back into bed and switched the TV on with the remote. In pursuit of something to help her fall asleep, she flicked through an endless number of white noise channels, before an episode of ‘Duck Dynasty’ filtered through the blur on the screen, that was the last straw, off went the TV as she reached for her phone and turned it on.

  Once the phone played a tone announcing it was ready, she checked the messages and found six texts from Mason and one scary ass message from Eden, she figured getting that one over with first was best.

  “You rotten bitch, did you think I wouldn’t find out? You so owe me an explanation, I think you’ve finally lost your mind. Don’t you ignore me! I expect a call by morning,” Eden said quietly into the phone, evidently trying not to be heard by Chase, who would give her shit for interfering.

  Mikala laughed, sitting up against the wooden headboard and adjusting her pillow behind her back. The first four texts Mason sent pleaded with her to respond, when he finally took the hint that she had no such intentions, he blasted her.

  Disappearing like a spoiled child won’t keep me away, think again.

  She studied his words and then rolled her eyes before reading the last.

  Sugar, wherever u r I will find u let there b no doubt. I’m gonna do whatever it takes 2 get u back so prepare yourself.

  Laughing, she put her head back and closed her eyes.

  Mikala was in a dreamlike state when she heard heavy knuckles hammering against the hollow wooden door. Before she could open her eyes, the familiar voice calling out her name forced them open wide.

  “Mikala, open this fucking door, I’m not going away until you do, or the cops arrive!” Mason yelled.

  Although most rooms in the motel seemed unoccupied, she couldn’t be sure and rushed to the door before someone called the cops. The less than impressed look on Mason’s face told her there was no fucking with him in the mood he was in, standing off to the side of the door she waved him in as he stormed past.

  Feeling like he just got a swift kick to the face, he looked around the grungy room drawing in a displeased breath, “You’re so desperate to get away from me that this is what you resort to, sleeping in this dump?” he shook his head in disbelief, “I knew you hated me but I never dreamed it was this bad.”

  “I don’t hate you,” Mikala quickly replied, “I…needed distance.” She fumbled over her words.

  Her heart sunk when she caught sight of Mason rubbing his hand across the stubble covering his jaw, his sad eyes meeting hers. “You know, it’s a big fucking loft with plenty of room to escape from me,” he declared, “I’ll move out, you can have the place, there’s no fucking way I’m letting you stay here another night.” He stood defiant with his arms crossed over his chest staring her down.

  “Don’t talk crazy,” Mikala said, closing the door and sitting on the wobbly chair, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “You’re sure as fuck not staying here, get your shit together we’re leaving,” he ordered, “Don’t give me a reason to drag you out of here kicking and screaming.

  Dropping her eyes to the floor she said, “No, I’m staying,” and then watched through her lashes as Mason moved around the room like a cyclone, grabbing up her belongings and tossing them into her bag.

  “Don’t play with me Mikala,” he growled, reaching for the back of the chair and spinning it round to face him.

  “Now, you can go dressed as you are, but I suggest you put something a bit less revealing on,” he said as his eyes trailed over her tiny white t-shirt and baby blue, lace trimmed boy-short panties.

  At this point she had no alternative but to do as he said and retreated to the washroom where she threw on sweats and a hoodie and scooped her toiletries into her purse. Mason was leaning with his hips against the dresser and turned when she came out of the washroom. He pushed off the dresser and closed the distance between them.

  “Next decision,” he posed. “You walk out of here on your own two feet or over my shoulder, which will it be?”

  As much as the idea of being dragged off into the night by a hunky gorgeous man appealed to her, she tipped her head and scowled, “Fuck off!” and walked out the door.

  “Smart mouth,” Mason said, with a burning glare.

  Twenty minutes later, Mason pulled into the roundabout at the very same hotel he had dropped her off at the night they had left Eden and Chase’s, not too long ago. Looking over at him surprised, she watched him jump out of the truck and come around to her side. He opened the door, helped her out and then took her bag from the rear seat.

  “Let’s get a move on,” he ordered, taking her hand. Bossy as fuck, this was the Mason that always managed to crawl under her skin and send shivers to her core and at this moment she was as wet as he had ever made her. If Mason only knew the effect he was having on her.

  They spoke not a word while he handed over his credit card to the overly made-up buxom blond behind the desk and booked Mikala a two night stay. Even the ride up to her room was a silent one, but once the room door closed, it was an entirely different situation.

  “Not a fucking word,” he said, as she opened her mouth to speak. “The room is paid for and will continue to be paid for until the apartment is ready, no arguments.”

  “I’ll pay you back,”

  “You’ll pay fuck all,” he said. He would go broke first to ensure she was safe and secure. “I’ll make sure your car is dropped off before morning, you’ll find the keys at the front desk.”

  “You’re not going to stay?” she asked, before she realized the words had crossed her lips and nervously looked away.

  “Do you want me to stay?” he asked, confused.

  Thinking quickly she replied, “I mean…you trust me to stay here alone?”

  “I’m trusting that you’ll think twice before you go bolting off next time,” he softened his tone. “In two days I’ll ask you again to reconsider and come stay at the loft, that’s two days to think, sugar.”

  “I don’t need two days Mason,” Mikala said, sitting on the foot of the bed, “I won’t be changing my mind.”

  “We’ll see,” he said, sitting beside her, “Sugar, why are you being so difficult?”

  His knee was making full contact distracting her from her thoughts. The only barrier between them was a few layers of bulky material, it could have been a ce
ment block and she would have still felt his heat. She jumped to her feet sidetracking herself with emptying her bag.

  “Am I being difficult?” she asked, playing the fool.

  “Mik, what happened to you since last night, I thought we were making head way. I thought…”

  “You thought wrong,” Mikala snapped, “I need to get some sleep and you need to go.”

  Mason tongued the inside of his cheek looking at his watch. “Yeah, it’s late,” he agreed walking to the door and handing her the keycard. “See you tomorrow, I mean today, sometime,”

  “I guess.”

  “Goodnight, sugar.”

  “Night.”

  Mason left the room and never looked back. The door closed with a harsh click.

  Unfortunately for Mikala, Chase was too busy to meet with her at the club and since he said it was of utmost importance, she found herself riding the claustrophobic elevator to his office, which had to be on one of the top floors of the twenty five story glass and steel office tower.

  “Hey, Jessica, I’m here to see Chase,” Mikala announced, to Chase’s receptionist.

  “Mr. Dean’s expecting you, go right in,” Jessica said, pointing in the direction of his office with her sharpened pencil, never taking her eyes off the computer screen. It amazed Mikala how Jessica rarely made eye contact yet knew immediately who she was addressing and where to send them.

  The impressively gold branded glass door to Chase’s office slid to the side before her knuckles made contact and Chase stood glaring. Waving her by, she made tracks for one of the large comfy leather chairs by his desk and sat. Chase sat in his sexy executive chair with his chin on his clasped hands and his elbows on his desk still staring.

  “What?” she asked, uneasily.

  “You tell me,” he countered.

  Wracking her brain as to why he would be angry, she could only think of one reason.

  Mason.

  “Does the word private mean fuck all to anyone anymore?” she huffed, slumping back into the comfort of the creamy soft leather.

  “Mikala,” he scolded.

  With a raised brow she challenged him, if he was going to meddle in her personal life, he’d have to deal with her swearing. She wasn’t a child and could choose her own words and heartfelt ways of expressing them. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him just that, the door opened and Mikala looked over in time to see Eden enter the room.

  “Fuck this,” Mikala said, rising to her feet and slinging her purse over her shoulder, “I’m out of here!”

  “Mikala, sit!” Chase roared, “I am a busy man with a very busy schedule and unlike you, I do not have time for bullshit.”

  Chase opened his top desk drawer and lifted out a blue folder sliding it across the desk. Mikala reluctantly took the folder and sat as she flipped through the contents.

  “Call me stupid, but I don’t understand,” she said, watching as Eden took the chair beside her.

  “Can you understand one hundred and fifteen signed private contracts?” Chase asked, “This is only a portion of my most influential clients interested in a membership at the club. Word of mouth goes a long way in the business world.”

  “Holy shit,” Mikala muttered, as she fanned through the contracts, impressed by the names of big business, high stakes players she so often saw in the news and local business pages of the newspaper. “These are for real?”

  “All they require are your signature,” Chase said, smiling.

  “Got a pen?” she laughed, as Chase handed her the pen from his breast pocket.

  “I guess congratulations are in order,” Eden offered with a smile. “Let’s celebrate tonight at BLU, I’ll make reservations.” Eden was up and out the door before Mikala could protest.

  “Sure…sounds great…why don’t you make reservations…no I’m not busy at all,” Mikala joked, as she looked out the picture window to her side, since no one else cared to listen.

  “I have a meeting in five, you finish signing those and leave them on my desk and I’ll have my lawyer file them away,” he said, with a wink.

  Client confidentiality required utmost privacy, especially when it came to some of the names they were bringing in. All the existing files had been transferred to Chase’s lawyers the day she and Chase had become partners. He stepped in, creating a new way of handling the club’s files and maintaining privacy, never completely taking over, merely navigating the ship into still waters, for which she was grateful.

  “Is Eden in on this meeting?” she asked, before he left.

  “No, I’m not sure what her plans are,” he said. “Hit extension two, Amanda will tell you where to find her.”

  “Thanks Chase, see you tonight.”

  “Tonight,” he called out, as he tore down the hall.

  One hundred and fifteen signed contracts later, Mikala hit number two on the phone and listened while it rang twice, “Hi, Mr. Dean how can I help you?” Amanda, Eden’s overly enthusiastic assistant asked.

  “Hi Amanda, its Mikala,”

  “Hello Miss. Santino, it’s been a while, how are you keeping?”

  “I’m doing well,” Mikala answered. “Sorry but I’m kind of in a rush, is Eden around?” It was better to get to the point with Amanda or it could turn into an agonizingly lengthy conversation.

  “Mrs. Dean’s down in the print room,” Amanda said.

  “Where would I find that?”

  “On the tenth floor, second door on the left as you get off the elevator. Did you want me to let her know you are on your way?”

  “No, that’s fine, thanks.” Mikala said, “I’ll talk to you again.”

  “Goodbye Miss Santino, have a great day.”

  The claustrophobic elevator ride earlier had been nothing compared to the overstuffed compartment she found herself in this time. She was sure a truckload of cattle going to slaughter had more room and probably smelled better. The conglomeration of men’s cheap cologne and woman’s fruity, flowery perfumes and body sprays, clotted the air with a thick nasty film, she could practically taste it in the back of her throat as she held back a gag.

  She shoved her way off the elevator and inhaled several breaths of fresh air before knocking at the door earmarked Prints and Developing.

  “It’s open!” Eden yelled.

  “It’s me,” Mikala said, walking into the dimly lit room. “What are you doing?”

  “Enlarging a drawing for a presentation with new clients, it’s a Victorian lobby. What do you think?” Eden asked.

  “I think you’re a fucking genius with a crayon,” Mikala said, stepping closer for a better look. She admired Eden’s creative talents, often envying her ability to take something shabby and drab and turning it into something elegant and truly breathtaking.

  “Crayons,” Eden scowled, “seriously Mik?”

  “You know I’m kidding,” Mikala laughed, squeezing Eden’s ass cheek and receiving a slap in return. “It’s beautiful.”

  Eden lifted the print from the copier taking it over to a large laminator and feeding it in. With a few turns of a dial and flips of switches, they watched as it slowly disappeared inside and the timer started ticking away.

  “That will take about ten minutes, let’s have a seat and talk,” Eden invited, pulling out a chair at the tiny table in the corner of the room.

  “If this is about Mason and me not going to his place can we skip it, because I’m so talked out when it comes to that man,” she said, sitting. “There’s nothing between us anymore, Eden. You have to understand I’m over him, I’m done, and I’m finished. Yes we had a relationship and yes it was good, but it was only good while it lasted.”

  “Well thanks for enlightening me, but I was going to ask what you plan on wearing tonight to BLU,” Eden said. “By the way, the reservations are for seven.”

  “I’m sorry, Eden,” Mikala said, feeling like a crazy woman for flipping out.

  She couldn’t be blamed for jumping to conclusions, after all, each turn sh
e took and every single person she ran into had an opinion when it came to her and Mason and what was best for them. But they simply didn’t exist together, and no matter how loud she roared it from the rooftops, no one was getting it, not a soul could just accept that they were not a couple. Mikala was beyond frustrated.

  “Not to worry,” Eden said, laughing, “you and Mason can figure yourselves out…so, what are you wearing?”

  “Who’s all going?” Mikala asked, because she wasn’t convinced Eden was throwing in the towel, she was the matchmaker of Boston and if you didn’t want to be hooked up, you avoided her at all costs.

  “The usual,” Eden said, moving to the laminator to check on its progress, “Me, you, Chase, I texted Carl but haven’t heard from him yet, I think his phone may be off,” she faded off.

  “Tell me you didn’t invite Mason,” Mikala said, slanting her head and surveying Eden’s reaction as she tried to avoid eye contact.

  “Huh?” Eden muffled under her breath.

  “Eden?”

  “I did not invite Mason, cross my heart,” Eden said, crossing her index finger over her chest, with a smile that told Mikala she wasn’t entirely truthful. The fingers on her other hand were probably crossed behind her back.

  Five hours later, while enjoying appetizers and the first round of drinks, Carl appeared at the table with a companion at his side. Mason took a seat tipping his head and grinning. Mikala immediately fizzled into miserable bitch mode.

  “Sorry we’re late. I had to have Mase pick me up, my cars in the shop yet again, lousy piece of shit.” Carl said with a laugh, immediately jumping into a conversation with Chase regarding mechanics.

  “Mik, I,” Eden started to speak but Mikala’s glare stopped her.

  “Don’t even try,” Mikala snarled, “I may never speak to you again, bitch.”

  The waitress came to the table with menus, she leaned forward to pass a menu across the table, resting her hand on Mason’s shoulder and laughing as they glanced at each other. Perhaps it was a touch of the green eyed monster, although she wasn’t going to admit it to herself or anyone else for that matter, but the appeal of beating the waitress’s pretty little face with the leather bound menu was tempting. Mason’s eyes were on Mikala’s as if he felt the darts aimed for his chest, he shrugged and Mikala narrowed her eyes turning away.