Ceaseless Chains Copyright © 2020 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.

Chapter posted - August 28, 2020

Thank you for all the amazing response on this story. I'm so happy everyone is loving it <3 PS: my old story everything we ever wanted is updated on my profile, if you guys want something else to read. xo

PS: Do you guys want me to give these chapters fun names or is this ^ ok?

Playlist Song: Jhene Aiko - The Worst

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C H A P T E R 9

Teagan

"Are you texting Wyatt?" Elsie rested against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched me.

I glanced up at her from my position; I was sitting on my packed suitcase. "Yes, I am."

It's worth mentioning that she looked completely out of character. Her hair was tied into a low bun at the nape of her neck, strands peaking out. She had dark smudges under her eyes, and she'd ditched her customary sexy housewife outfits for jeans and a hoodie. She was never unkempt.

"That boy really likes you," Elsie stated. "I see it in the way he looks at you whenever he comes to visit you at your shift."

I squirmed a little. Wyatt definitely didn't like me. "He just likes to flirt with me. To be honest with you, he's young, good-looking, plays on the football team and I know for a fact that he has a lot of female admirers. He's probably talking to a lot of other women at the same time, but I don't mind because I don't see him that way. He's funny to converse with."

"Righttttt," Elsie drawled. "If that's your excuse. Okay."

"It's not an excuse." I rolled my eyes and got up with a smile. I went over to hug her. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Elsie. You let me into your home, put food on the table and gave me a roof over my head. I love you."

She wrapped her arms around me and clutched me fiercely. "Oh, poupée. This is what family is for. This is what we do. We care for each other."

"Well, you cared for me when my actual parents didn't. So I do need to thank you. You're a rare gem, you know? I've never met someone who's so accepting of others and never judges."

"You're going to make me cry." Her voice is muffled against my neck. In her heels, she reached my height but without them? Elsie was small woman who made up with her bigger heart – the best people usually did.

I laughed a little. "You're already crying."

I pulled back and thumbed the tears at the corner of her eyes and held her face. "Els, promise me that you're going to start living life. You're successful and beautiful. You deserve the world. You deserve to love and be loved, but you can only do that when you allow yourself to experience. Put yourself out there. Meet someone. I want that for you."

Elsie's eyes swam with emotion. "Teagan..."

"I get worried for you. All you ever do is work and look after me and yourself. That's not a life. There's more to you than just your shop. There's more to life than just work, honey."

"I know." She chewed her lip then sighed, tightening her arms around me. "I promise I will try, and I love you, too."

"Good." I wiped my own traitorous tears. I wasn't an emotional person, but the last twenty-four hours had been a roller-coaster.

I wheeled my suitcase down the hallway, knowing Jared was waiting for me downstairs in his truck.

Elsie stopped me at the door, wringing her hands together. "What if I told you I met someone last night?"

"What? Is that why you came home at 3 am? I knew you weren't preparing recipes in the back kitchen this whole time. You little minx."

"N-No, I was," she stumbled, shoving her wayward strands behind her ears. "But he just happened to come after closing time and...yeah."

I quirked an eyebrow. "And you let him?"

She huffed out a laugh. "Something like that."

"What's his name? Is he cute?"

She blushed a little and then opened the door, waving me off. "The most handsome man I've ever seen. He's older as well so bonus points to him."

I stepped over the threshold. "What's his name?"

"Daniel." It was tinged with her mild French accent – dahn-yell. She glanced up at me, her blue eyes pulsating with excitement. "He said his name is Daniel."

* * *

Less than an hour later, Jared and I were riding up the elevator to Oliver's floor.

"I thought girls always overpacked," he whistled low, drawing attention to my one suitcase and cross body bag.

"I didn't take much when I left Vancouver, Jared. I took even less when I escaped Boston."

"Escaped?"

I smirked cynically. "Semantics."

The elevator pinged and we stepped out, Jared taking my suitcase with him. I placed an arm on Jared's bicep. "I appreciate all your help, Jare."

"Anytime, babe. Now come on, let's get you home."

Home. Because that's what Oliver's place would be. My new home for at least the next year.

Before he knocked on the door, Jared turned towards me and engulfed me in a hug, catching me off-guard. "I just want you to know I'm proud of you. For being independent and for stepping out from your rich parents' shadow. Everything you've done since high school has been without their help and we are all in awe of you."

"Oh, Jared."

He kissed my cheek then unlocked Oli's door with the 'hidden' key. It was dark inside, despite the afternoon having slowly bled into the evening. Shadows danced against the walls and Jared gave me a quizzical look as he crept further inside.

"Oliver!" Jared called out to him. No response. "Daddy's home, babyyyyy."

I took a seat at the plush leather settee next to the front door. Jared grumbled something and stomped down the hallway. From where I sat, I caught a silhouette in the balcony, so I rushed over.

When I opened the sliding door and stepped out, I grew sheepish.

Oliver's tall frame was hunched against the balcony railing, his unbuttoned black dress shirt whipping with the gust of wind. A cigarette dangled in the corner of his mouth as he raked his fingers through his wet strands. His body sprung to attention when he saw me. "Oh, hey."

"Hi," I murmured, heat suffusing my cheeks once again at his near nakedness. "Sorry, um, Jared and I are here."

He smiled crookedly, angling his body towards mine, and hitting me with the full force of his torso – defined pecs and hard as fuck abs. I was not ready. I blinked a few times before I came back to what he was saying. "Obviously, since you are standing in front of me."

So sassy. "I texted you, but you didn't answer."

Oliver took a drag of his cigarette, before blowing smoke in the other direction. "Sorry, I was showering."

"I didn't know you smoked." I didn't want to sound like that, but I did. Judgemental and all.

"Bad habit I took on a few months ago." He waved his cigarette. "Been trying to quit."

"That's good."

Oliver smirked again in his lazy playboy manner as he threw out his cigarette. My gaze was gravitated towards his chest, which was steadfastly disappearing from view as he buttoned his dress shirt. Shows over friends, the curtains are closing in. The studio audience in my mind went 'awwww'.

"Peek-a-boo, BITCHES!" Jared roared, opening up the balcony doors. "I've been looking all the place for you!"

Oliver and I jumped a few inches away from one another. I pressed a hand against my pounding heart, trying to calm down. Ever the jokester, Jared threw his head back and boomed loudly with laughter.

Oliver recovered quickly. "Clearly you didn't look hard enough. Tee and I were right here."

Jared wiggled his eyebrows. "What were you guys doing in private?"

I rolled my eyes at the same time as Oliver. "We were about to hug before you so rudely interrupted us." Oliver crowded me and dragged me into his arms. "See Jared? I'm welcoming my new tenant."

My own bracketed his shoulders; he swayed us momentarily.

Oh, my.

But what Jared didn't see was me greedily inhaling Oliver's scent – fresh, minty, a hint of masculine musk and the cigarette he just smoked. It was the type of cologne that lingered in the air even after the person left. Oliver's stubbled chin roved over my collarbone and my toes curled, my breathing a little slower.

You're unforgettable. When people get to know the real you, you linger in their hearts, Teagan. I could hear those words replaying on an endless loop, like my favorite song.

"That's how I hug my friends. Not a tenant. Unless I wanted to wind up in jail," Jared deadpanned.

I pulled away from Oliver quickly. The scale was tipping fast with our bridging. I swatted Jared on the back of his head, and he barked another laugh, before slipping back inside. We followed suit.

Five minutes later, Jared was gone after I promised I'd take him out on a friend date to his favorite Iranian restaurant as a thank-you.

I settled into my new room. Oliver made himself a snack in the kitchen before his shift at 1001 Nights. He worked there everyday while I worked at Le Petit Moulin, but our schedules would cross on Fridays and Saturdays when I sung at the speakeasy.

For the next half an hour, I spread out my belongings all over my new space. I laid out my makeup on my new dresser. It didn't have a mirror, so I took a mental note to go buy one. In my drawers, I shoved in my numerous leggings – my curvy ass made buying jeans difficult – and knit sweaters. In another one I placed my pyjamas; I loved long nightgowns, the kind with long sleeves and buttons that reached my ankles. They looked prudish, I knew. Occasionally, I wore sexy negligees when I was feeling myself, and shorts on the days of my periods. Seventy percent of my luggage was clothes. In my new closet, I hung a few cocktail gowns and maxi dresses. Before I left for Boston, I gave the rest of my fancy designer numbers to Tara for safe-keeping, in case I ever came back home. I'd make sure to message her tonight to bring the rest of my beloved closet from her house. I loved wearing gowns because I always felt so feminine and powerful and fuck it, dominant in a way that no one understood. When I walked into a room wearing expensive fabric, I yielded gazes and I knew it. Thanks to my newfound gig at 1001 Nights, I'd have more occasions to wear them.

I stepped into the adjoining bathroom and threw in my razors, tampons, and pads. I flourished the counter top with my lotions and fragrances, as well as a few miscellaneous lipstick tubes in my favorite red and russet shades.

Padding down the hallway, I saw Oliver's silhouette behind the stained-glass wall of the kitchen, sitting on a stool and eating what looked to be a sandwich. He didn't look up from his phone when I came in. I noticed he was already in his work attire – grey slacks and black suspenders completing the ensemble.

I dropped a manilla envelope next to his plate, before hesitantly taking the chair in front of him. "Since we're May 10th, here's the rent for the next twenty days. I'll give you the full amount starting the first of next month."

"Sounds good." Again, his eyes never met mine. I thought he'd want to count it.

"What are you doing?"

He tapped his phone. "I'm making a cleaning schedule. Every week one of us has to broom, vacuum, mop, disinfect, and all that. I'll print it and stick it on the fridge."

"Sounds fair. What about food? Do you want us to take turns grocery shopping? That's what my cousin and I used to do."

Oliver shrugged, still not looking at me. "Sure. There's a notepad sitting on the table next to the entry way. Put whatever you want, and I'll pick it up. Vice versa. We'll split the bill."

"Cool." I twiddled my thumbs. The atmosphere seemed a bit off. Why wasn't he looking at me? "What should we do about cooking?" It's a valid question. Did I purchase my own pots and pans and utensils or...?

He scoffed, furiously thumbing a list. "Teagan, you're a big girl. You can fend for yourself."

I wasn't having any of this. "Well clearly you aren't a big boy. You've got a shift in half an hour and your sorry excuse for dinner is a PB&J sandwich."

That got him to snap his eyes at me. The gold had darkened with indignation. "Excuse me?"

"I'm just pointing out what I'm seeing."

"I know how to cook," he said through clenched teeth.

"Amazing. So do I. Why don't you create another schedule? Oh wait–" I whipped out my phone from my hoodie pocket. "–better yet, I'll make it. What days do you want to cook dinner? Since we both work Friday and Saturday, we can do takeout."

His eyes fumed a little, but his smirk gave him away. He couldn't give me a new layer to him like last night then pull back into his indifferent asshole mask, the one he used to give me before.

Now that he had what he wanted from me – me as his new tenant – I wouldn't go back to the way we were.

"Breakfast and lunch isn't a big deal, but I'd like for us to have dinner together," I amended softly. We'd be living together, and we shouldn't have to avoid one another. Nor would I allow him to subject me to a cold and hot demeanor because of a wall he was suddenly trying to erect. "So I'll cook dinner Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursday. We can make a weekly meal plan."

Oliver just stared at me. Was their something on my face? I didn't think so. Plus, I knew he was a good cook. His mother had taught us both, after all. With a truce-calling look, he said gruffly, "Then I'll do Mondays and Wednesdays."

"So it's settled." I gave him a wide, shit-eating grin. I moved here to better my situation and his, but I wouldn't allow to ever be treated callously. "We can brainstorm tomorrow. I'll print a schedule and stick it to the fridge as well."

He barely nodded as he got up, dusted crumbs, and brought his dirty dish to the sink. He went over to the refrigerator and opened it, scanning its contents. "I have left over pasta from yesterday for dinner, if you want?"

I shook my head as I hoisted myself up from the kitchen stool. "No, thanks. I'll do takeout. Tara's been wanting to see me. Do you mind if she comes over?"

Oliver leaned against the counter, his knuckles braced behind him. He released a soft sigh. "Teagan, this is your home too now."

I stared him dead-on. "I know. So I'd appreciate if you made me feel that way. I don't know what crawled up your ass, but I don't want you to behave in a cold manner with me when I've done nothing to earn it. I just got here."

Pivoting on my heels, I caught the self-deprecating look on his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

I texted Tara to come over.

* * *

Tara brought over Chinese takeout enough for four, blue curtains (I begged her to bring whatever extra pair she had at home so my windows at night were covered), the remainder of my clothes that I'd left behind, flowers as a welcome gift, and a delicious orange pound cake from her personal chef at home. I left the latter in the fridge with a note for Oli, in case he decided to have some in the morning with his coffee.

She was the best goddamn best friend anyone could ask for.

"I'm so excited to see you sing live," she gushed. Currently, she was raiding my closet. "You need to wear this on your official opening night."

The piece she pulled out was a sea green satin number that was cowl-necked – enough to show cleavage – with a thigh-high slit that would give leeway to some serious side-ass if I weren't careful.

"Isn't that too scandalous?"

"Then why do you have it?"

"Good point."

We spent the next two hours eating Chinese food, tweaking up my room, and talking about the new guy she was hooking up with.

"What about you? Any new boys?" Tara's blond brows pulled together as she shoved another mouthful of Chow Mein through her lips.

I speared a dumpling with a fork. I looked up at the ceiling where Tara had helped me pin a bunch of twinkling lights and glow-in-the-dark stars, so it felt like I was under the sky. "No. I took a vow of celibacy for eight months at the end of October." After my abortion I thought, fuck dudes. "My last fling left me with a sour taste in my mouth."

And an unborn baby.

Tara left not too long after. I tidied up and prepared for bed. Laying back in my soft blanket, a familiar and uncomfortable feeling jogged up my throat. I suddenly missed something that I couldn't pinpoint. Elsie? My old bedroom at my childhood home?

No.

It was always the same thing.

I was missing a sense of belonging. My soul ached for something I hadn't had in forever.

My phone beeped with a text message. It was an unknown number. Any time I got a phone call from a number I didn't recognize, it was automatically declined and then blocked.

But there was an image attached, and one I couldn't block or avoid anymore.

A black and white picture of a woman's ass, buck naked, save for a slivering thong between both cheeks.

Wanna play, TM?

My dinner lurched inside my stomach. I knew... I knew it was Mason Sullivan.

Because that was my picture. I recognized the two faux-diamond dermal piercings at the bottom of my spine.

With an agonizing scream that felt ripped from my core, saturated with anger and frustration at the universe, I hurled my phone against my bedroom door.

There's no way he knew what I knew. 

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A/N: Omg, what does she know you think? What's happening?! Why do you think Oliver is suddenly being...cold? Look at that, I hinted at a future mafia romance with Elsie and Danny ;) PS: I think the new ship name will be Oligan :) or Abhisa based on comments last chapter. x

Twitter: MajestyMarzy

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Chapter goal: 390? x