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  Sting

  Deceit and Desire Book 5

  Cassie Wild

  Belmonte Publishing, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Contents

  Reading Order

  1. Trice

  2. Lane

  3. Trice

  4. Lane

  5. Trice

  6. Lane

  7. Trice

  8. Lane

  9. Trice

  10. Lane

  11. Trice

  12. Trice

  13. Lane

  14. Trice

  15. Lane

  16. Trice

  17. Lane

  18. Trice

  19. Lane

  20. Trice

  21. Lane

  22. Trice

  About the Author

  Reading Order

  Thank you so much for reading Tricks, book 3 in my Deceit and Desire series. If you’d like to read the complete series, I recommend reading them in this order:

  1. Lies

  2. Fire

  3. Tricks

  4. Heat

  5. Sting (This Book)

  6. Blaze (July 6)

  One

  Trice

  A light breeze stirred the air, lifting some of the hair that had escaped my ponytail. Sweat rolled down my forehead and spine, but I ignored it. I didn’t mind the sweat.

  I didn’t mind the heat either.

  I was nearly five miles away from the house, and this was the freest I’d ever felt while out running. Lately, I’d been going farther and farther on my runs, desperate to get away from a house that felt even more empty now that I no longer had anybody left around that gave a damn about me.

  Just remember, I reminded myself. Joelle is safe.

  My younger cousin had been set to marry one of the more powerful families in my clan, but her sister rescued her. Now, Joelle and Suria were hopefully some place far, far away, and if I knew anything about Suria, she wouldn’t make the same mistakes twice.

  Gabriel wouldn’t be able to find them again.

  His daughters – my cousins, my only real friends – were gone.

  I didn’t begrudge them. Hell, I was feeling more than a little guilty. If Gabriel hadn’t snuck up behind me the day Joelle called me to let me know they were safe, he would have never been able to find them the first time.

  But I didn’t begrudge them at all.

  I couldn’t imagine how Joelle had felt, and I could only begin to imagine how angry and stressed Suria had been. She’d promised to always take care of her baby sister, then Gabriel up and promised her in marriage to a guy like Ephraim.

  Just thinking of that evil bastard was enough to make me shudder, and I put some extra speed into my pace, hoping the added strain would clear him from my mind.

  It worked.

  For a little while.

  After another mile, my lungs started to burn, and I swung around the corner to start the trek back home.

  But I slowed down the pace.

  Not because I was tired.

  I’d have to get back to reality sooner rather than later, but why do it any quicker than absolutely necessary?

  The house where I’d lived for the greater part of my life was nothing special. Small and rundown, I worked hard to keep it clean and make it cheerful, but the attempts were mostly useless.

  There was only so much that could be done when the paint was peeling, the carpet threadbare, and the linoleum beginning to turn up in one corner.

  There was a spot on the roof that leaked, and on the rare occasion we got much rain, I had to change out the bucket I put under it on a regular occasion. Although LA didn’t get a lot of rain, it seemed like whenever we did, it was almost always a heavy downpour, and I worried that one of those storms would end up bringing down half the roof.

  We needed a new one.

  But Mama didn’t have the money.

  I didn’t have a job.

  Every time I talked about getting one, I was reminded of one thing…Your job is to be there for the clan. That is your job. Your responsibility.

  Mama told me that.

  Uncle Gabriel told me that.

  The clan.

  Brooding, I let myself in through the back door and looked at the small, dingy kitchen. What did I owe the clan any loyalty for, anyway?

  I might have been born Roma, but they’d never done much for me.

  It wasn’t like they’d done a good job taking care of me or my mother.

  Sure, the clan leader had made sure she had a job that would cover paying for our house and a few groceries, but there were times when I’d been hungry and the fridge would be empty.

  Those were the times when Suria would show up at the door and catch my hand, dragging me over to her house. “Come on,” she’d say. “I made pasta, and there’s way too much.”

  Almost like she had a sixth sense.

  Which was funny, considering she’d worked as a fake psychic for her father for so many years, since before it was even legal for her to work. Now, she was gone.

  My throat ached a little, and this time, I couldn’t stop the onslaught of self-pity that rose in me.

  Suria had helped take care of this family too.

  Not just her own, but mine.

  How were we going to make it without her?

  Immediately, I felt terrible, because if I had a chance to get out, I would have taken it and not looked back, not for anything. I knew she was trying to think of a way to get me out of here too. That had always been the plan, the three of us escaping together.

  But then the marriage horror came up, and it was clear she had to get Joelle away before she was forced to marry Ephraim. Joelle was only sixteen, sweet and innocent. Ephraim would have broken her. And he would have enjoyed it.

  I knew Suria. She’d still try to find a way to get me away from here, but now, it would be so much harder. My mother knew how close we were, and she’d be watching, waiting for a call from Suria. She’d be watching me.

  As the ache in my chest settled and grew heavier, I shoved off the wall and forced myself to head to the bathroom. I needed to change and get out of my running clothes. Sweat had dried on my skin, leaving me itchy.

  Of course, I’d been feeling itchy for days, ever since Suria and Joelle disappeared.

  I could wash away this physical itch, but the other one?

  No. I was stuck with that one.

  I imagined it was permanently lodged just under my skin.

  Once I showered, I locked myself in my little bedroom.

  The room was barely big enough for a twin bed and the small dresser that stored most of my clothes. My few nice things were hung in a minuscule closet barely worthy of the name.

  With a towel wrapped around my hair, I slicked on some lotion, then pulled out a pair of jean shorts and a tank top.

  As far as I knew, I wasn’t expected to cover for Suria again today, for which I was grateful.

  Suria had been a natural at the con, which was weird since she’d hated it passionately. But she instinctively knew how to read people and figure out what they needed to hear.

  Me? I hated it as much as she did, but I wasn’t a natural at it. Not at all. I knew how to adapt to my surroundings and blend in, but sitting across from another person while trying to convince them that their great-aunt was sending them love from the great beyond, or trying to help a woman find her lost kitten…I wasn’t so good at any of that.


  Suria had told me how she manipulated customers, and I was trying to get better at it.

  But there wasn’t much of a learning curve.

  Dressed now, I pulled the towel from my hair and started to brush out the heavy mass.

  A knock on the door made me groan inwardly. Then I forced a pleasant tone in my voice. “I’ll be there in a second.”

  Not that anybody listened.

  It was a good thing I’d already gotten dressed because the door swung open, and I spun around, watching as my mother and uncle came into my small bedroom. There was barely room for the three of us standing, especially with Gabriel half-looming over me. At five-seven, I wasn’t a small woman. But Gabriel had a way of sucking up all the space from a room. He stood a little under six feet, with broad shoulders and a bit of a beer belly on him, but it wasn’t only his physical presence. It was just who he was.

  His dark eyes focused on me, running over me in a way that was almost clinical, like I was a bug under a slide.

  I didn’t like it.

  At all.

  Turning away from him, I grabbed a hair band from my dresser and quickly brushed my hair up so I could pull it into a ponytail. “Is something wrong?” I asked. Part of me hoped they had news on Suria and Joelle, just so I’d know they were okay, but at the same time, I didn’t want to ever hear from them again.

  I wanted them out.

  I wanted them away from this life.

  I wanted away from this life.

  I’d figure something out, sooner or later too.

  “No. Nothing’s wrong,” Gabriel said, his voice easy. Too easy, considering.

  Slowly, I turned and looked at him. The glint in his eyes made me uncomfortable, and I shifted my gaze from him to my mother, but I couldn’t read anything on her face.

  It didn’t help that she wouldn’t look at me.

  But then again, she rarely ever looked me dead in the eye. Especially when her brother Gabriel was around. If he wasn’t there, sometimes we could almost get along, but he was there, too often.

  So, our relationship pretty much sucked.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, although a part of me was afraid to do even that.

  Gabriel wagged a finger at me. “See, you’re a smart girl, Trice. I’ve always thought so. Didn’t I tell you that, Jade? That you had a smart girl?”

  “Of course you did, Gabriel,” Mama said, barely glancing in my direction. Her hands were knotted at her waist, and she darted a look at Gabriel, but he was too busy looking at me to even notice.

  “You know, with Suria taking off with Joelle, I had a problem.” Gabriel shook his head. “A very big problem. I didn’t know how I was going to handle it, but then your mother and I got to talking, and I got to thinking…” The smile on his face widened. “You’re going to help me with my problem.”

  I tipped my head back, meeting his eyes. “I don’t know where Suria and Joelle are,” I said flatly. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have told him.

  His eyes gleamed. “Oh, we’re done with Suria and Joelle. Ephraim doesn’t want that kind of trouble in his wife. But you…” He reached up and scraped his nails down the growth of stubble darkening his jaw, that smirking smile still firmly in place. “You, though…you’re a different story.”

  My heart squeezed hard in my chest before beginning to pound in triple time. “W-what do you m-mean?” I hated hearing how my voice shook.

  “Jade, why don’t you tell her? This news should come from a girl’s mama.” He beckoned at my mother, and I glanced over at her.

  She kept her gaze on her shoes as she delivered the words in a monotone. “You’re going to marry Ephraim, Trice.”

  “No!” Instinctively, I backed up a step, shaking my head.

  Gabriel shot out an arm and grabbed me just above the elbow. He hauled me back toward him and stared down at me. “You’re taking Joelle’s place, Trice. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  I lifted my chin and felt my heart pounding in my throat. “I’m not marrying that bastard.”

  He slapped me. Hard. The blow sent me sideways onto my bed, and as I lay there, my ears ringing, he and Mama turned to go. He looked in at me from the doorway, his eyes empty. “The wedding will be in a few days. Don’t try to run away. I’ll be watching you.”

  Two

  Lane

  Crappy music from an even crappier cover band played on the stage in the corner of the club. People ponied up the money to come inside if they weren’t members and walked on in if they were.

  The booze was cheap enough, and we didn’t let them water it down, so the place was packed even though the music and the band was pure shit.

  I sat at the bar with a double shot of whiskey as I stared at pretty much everything without taking any of it in.

  The bar was called Devil’s Firstborn, and it was the hangout for the motorcycle club I belonged to – same name. Most of the people around me were either friends or acquaintances. A blonde sitting a few stools away caught my eye and licked her lips suggestively before lifting a rocks glass to her lips. Some of those acquaintances had it in their mind to be more, namely one Melina Tyldak, a groupie who hung around the bar and the club members. If I was of a mind, I could crook my finger at her, and the two of us could find some place private here – or hell, not so private. She wouldn’t care.

  I personally did, but that wasn’t the only thing keeping me from crooking my finger at Melina.

  I was bored.

  If I was honest with myself, I’d been bored with the whole set-up for a long while now, but this was the only life I knew. One might even say I’d been born into this life. Literally. My dad was serving a possible life sentence, but he was still the official president of the Devil’s Firstborn. If I wanted to take over, all I had to do was say the word.

  The fact that I hadn’t spoke volumes.

  Somebody settled into the seat next to me, and I slid a look over. Sullivan Elliot – Sully – beckoned for the bartender and pointed at my glass. “You drinking that shit or admiring it?” he demanded. “You been sitting here half the night and all I see you doing with it is staring at it.”

  I crooked a grin at me and reached for the glass. “I guess I was waiting for you to tell me what to do with it, dumbass.” I tossed it back and tapped the glass as the bartender, a graying man with muscles like baseballs packed under his skin, approached. “He’s buying, Dallas.”

  Dallas grunted while Sully flipped me off. He didn’t argue though.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” he said. Then he shrugged. “Quieter than usual, even. What’s up?”

  I shook my head, not wanting to get into it there. “Nothing, man.”

  Melina had vacated her seat, so before she could edge her way over to me, I turned on Sully and asked him about the bike he’d been working on.

  That would tie us both up for the next thirty minutes, easy. If I let him, Sully could wax on all night about the old bike he was restoring in the beat-up garage of the house where he lived a few miles away.

  Sully started to talk, and from the corner of my eye, I could see Melina approach, but when neither of us turned toward her, she just hovered there. And hovered.

  A good five minutes passed before she gave up and turned away, losing herself in the crowd.

  Not even ten seconds passed before Sully punched me in the shoulder. “What the fuck’s the matter with you, man? She’s practically ready to climb into your lap,” he said, laughter dancing in his eyes. Messy, long, blondish-brown hair half fell into his eyes, and he shoved it back as he waited for me to answer.

  “Maybe that’s the problem.” I turned back to my drink and tossed most of it back, letting it burn a pathway down to my belly. “When I’m ready for her to crawl into my lap, I’ll let her know. She doesn’t have to hang around on the sidelines making it clear that’s why she’s there.”

  “Too easy, huh?” Sully clicked his tongue. “That’s what happens when you’re king of the mountain. A
ll the girls are going to fall at your…feet.”

  “Kiss my…feet,” I suggested, shaking my head.

  He laughed and grabbed the beer sitting on the scarred surface of the bar. “Next time, I’ll take her off your hands. She did look awful lonesome, you know. I hate it when a girl looks lonely.”

  A shadow fell over us, and I glanced over at Zeb Gillespie, the club treasurer and one of the few I still considered a close friend. Nodding at him, I gestured to the bar. “Want a drink, Zeb?”

  He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “Heard there was going to be a meeting sometime this weekend. You heard anything about it?”

  “Nah.” I shook my head. I’d heard the same rumblings and had made sure to clear my schedule – not that there was ever much on it – so I’d be around just in case the acting president called it. I didn’t want to not be on hand. Even though my dad was in prison and I wasn’t officially in charge, a lot of people still looked to me – and through me, to him – so I felt responsible in ways I didn’t really like. “Once I hear something, I’ll let you know.”

  He nodded, reached up to rub at his jaw through the beard. “Do that.” Without another word, he turned, losing himself in the crowd.

  “He’s such a cheerful guy, life of the party, that one,” Sully said, tipping his beer bottle toward Zeb’s back.

  I said nothing. Sully didn’t have anything against Zeb. He just didn’t understand people who didn’t run their mouths a mile a minute. Sometimes I wondered at the fact that we were even friends.