As the helicopter approached the rectangular landing platform, I had a clear view of my grandfather’s vacation home below. The house was a massive three-story affair, made entirely of stone accented with white doors, windows, and shutters. A white and green porch stretched across the front of it, with one end continuing across the yard and onto a lake, effectively turning into a dock with what looked like a boat house. The back of the home was mostly hidden, but I briefly spied what appeared to be a pool as we descended.
A few vehicles were parked in the massive driveway opposite the dock, and a helicopter occupied one of the two spaces on the helipad we were quickly approaching—Chloe had understated just how many people were there. A fleeting thought passed my mind that perhaps it was a surprise party on my behalf, but that was stupid. If that were the case, Chloe and her team wouldn’t be on edge like this.
“It can’t be anything too dangerous,” I mused and glanced at one of the three security operatives in the cabin with us. “I can’t imagine anyone meaning us harm just leaving their vehicles in plain sight.”
“I’m not sure, sir,” he said, checking his sidearm. “Please stay in the helicopter, and we’ll inform you as soon as we’re sure it’s safe.”
A few minutes later, the helicopter touched down on the pad, and the three agents immediately filed out, dropping to the concrete and fanning out; their eyes searched the surrounding tree line and the house, looking for any sign of danger. Chloe returned from the cockpit and was about to follow them, but I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Chloe, I don’t want anyone leaving the house until I’m sure no one’s taken or messed with anything.”
My bodyguard glanced toward the house and said, “I’ll see what we can do, but I can’t promise anything. Judging by the vehicles already here, their numbers are comparable to ours if we’re lucky. I’ve called for backup, but it won’t do us any good for at least an hour and a half.”
“Just… see what you can do,” I said. “If there’s a chance that the drive is in that house, the last thing I need is for it to slip through my fingers—or anything else that might be important. Besides, even if there’s nothing here, I’m tired of having people fucking me over and getting away with it.”
There’d been too many of those: Cartwright, Ashlee, Amber Bell, Roger… they’d all managed to get one up on me without getting what was coming to them, and I had enough of that.
“Roger VanCamp didn’t,” Chloe pointed out.
“He got away,” I said.
“You don’t know that,” she pushed back and glanced at Helen. “And even if he did, he lost a lot to you. Take the win.”
I followed Chloe’s glance to Helen, who was whispering with Erin. She happened to look my way as I stared, and her blue eyes caught mine. She gave me a small, mysterious smile as she stared back at me. Maybe Chloe had a point.
“I’ll try to keep everyone where they are, though,” Chloe said.
“Thanks,” I said, letting go of her shoulder.
She dropped from the helicopter and took point, leading four agents—the three from my cabin and one that had joined her from the cockpit—across the yard toward the front door of my grandfather’s vacation home. Their guns weren’t drawn, and they all maintained a casual gait, but I’d been around them enough to notice how they kept their holsters clear from obstruction and their heads on swivels.
“How long do you think it’ll take them?” Emily asked, joining me beside the door.
“As long as it takes,” I replied as I watched them walk toward the home. Then I shut the door so we could at least wait in relative peace and quiet, insulated from the sound of the whirring helicopter rotor.
We spent the next twenty minutes waiting in the chopper. I ended up sitting on the interior’s carpeted floor, wondering what was taking them so long and contemplating all the possibilities. I envisioned all five members of my security lying dead on the floor or being held hostage, waiting for me to make a move. Perhaps they were standing in the middle of the living room with their guns drawn, trying to talk the mystery group into surrendering theirs.
If it came to it, I could always take off and leave my security behind. The chopper was still running, and a sixth security staffer—the pilot—was still in the cockpit, likely with orders to take off at the first sign of trouble. Considering the five ladies in the helicopter with me, I might have let him. They meant too much to me. However, taking off and leaving Chloe to die… I don’t know if I could recover from that.
Erin had dropped to the floor next to me and leaned against my chest, holding my arm wrapped around her shoulders. My face was buried in her hair, enjoying her floral scent as I imagined all the horrible scenarios Chloe could be in. Helen was still petting Bobbi, who was back to dozing as we waited. She’d attached the leash to the submissive’s collar but had removed it on my request. I didn’t want a leashed woman getting in the way in case something crazy happened… or to be a distraction. Natashya and Emily had taken turns watching out the window for any sign of change, and my sister was currently sitting in her seat, staring at Bobbi contemplatively while her girlfriend stared out the window.
“Here she comes,” Natashya finally said, pulling Emily’s attention from Bobbi as she crawled to her knees and leaned into the window next to her girlfriend. Erin and I got to our feet and approached. Sure enough, Chloe was walking toward us from across the lawn, looking completely fine. She was still wearing a light jacket, a pair of jeans, and a white blouse with no sign of a drawn gun. Approaching the helicopter, the blades whipped her hair around her head, throwing some of it in her face. She swiped it from her eyes as she approached the door just as Natashya opened it for her. My bodyguard climbed onto the helicopter and shut the door behind her.
“Well? I asked.
“It’s fine,” she said. “There’s roughly people in there having some kind of party. Only one of them’s armed.”
“Strangers just broke into Colin’s house?” I asked.
Chloe shook her head. “It’s one of the twins.”
“Twins?” I asked.
“Your brother. Quentin Gerrard.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to process that information. My brother was here. Quentin. I had a brother, and he was inside that house only a couple hundred feet away. I could feel my stomach turn at the thought of unexpectedly meeting one of the Gerrards. My understanding was that they all hated me; my aunt had confirmed as much at the meeting. However, according to Chandler, the twins simply couldn’t be bothered to make it to the meeting on Monday. Maybe I had family that didn’t despise me. Perhaps they were just lazy or indifferent.
Either way, I would meet another Gerrard today, whether I was ready or not. After all, he was technically trespassing in my house, and I already had plans to be here for the entire weekend. I couldn’t just turn around and head home when I had every right to be here. Everyone in this helicopter deserved a nice weekend away from the city.
“You said one of them is armed?”
“Quentin’s bodyguard,” Chloe said. “We didn’t confiscate the gun. I don’t see a point in it when there are six of us. It would only irritate the situation.”
“And the rest of them?” I asked.
Chloe shrugged. “Friends of his. None of them are dangerous or armed.”
“How can you tell?”
“Because most of them barely have any clothes on?”
“What?” I asked. I noticed Natashya’s interest pique along with Erin’s.
“Most of them are wearing swimsuits. Not much space to stow a weapon,” Chloe explained. “Roughly half are too inebriated to be of any danger at all. You want to go in or head back?”
“Go in.” There was no way I was missing a chance to check out the house and meet another Gerrard.
“Alright,” Chloe said, disappearing down the hall toward the cockpit. A few moments later, we heard the dull roar of the helicopter’s rotors slow as the pilot shut the whole thing down. Natashya and Emily started to retrieve their bags, but I stopped them. “Just leave them for now. Once we meet everyone inside and figure things out, we’ll send a couple of the guys for the luggage.”
The six of us piled out of the helicopter, where Chloe and the remaining agent were waiting for us. Then we followed her back to the house, with Chloe and I in the lead while the pilot followed last, trouncing across the yard toward the house.
“Hey,” Emily said, falling on one side of me while Erin walked on the other. “You have another brother, and you’re about to meet him. How does that make you feel?”
“It’s insane,” I said. “I mean… it doesn’t change much. I already have two brothers. Hopefully, this one doesn’t turn out to be like Jacob.”
“God,” Emily said, breaking into a smile. “Can you imagine your luck in finding a new brother, and he turns out to be as much of a deadbeat as Jacob?” It was nice to see her smiling again.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve had a lot of bad luck to offset the amazing luck from the money, so at this point, I think just about anything is possible.”
Emily grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze, giving me a tight-lipped smile; I returned it, feeling grateful to have her here with me. Within minutes, we were walking up the front steps of the porch, and Chloe opened the door. The sound of rap music immediately hit us as we followed Chloe into the house.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected when we walked inside, but it wasn’t this.
The den was massive, with stone pillars that reached exposed rough-hewn beams that traveled across vaulted ceilings. It was all white, reflecting the copious amounts of sunlight streaming in from the skylights and windows, showing a back patio where a couple of shirtless guys were laughing as they stood around a grill. A woman with shoulder-length brown hair walked past two of the windows toward the guys, and I watched as one of them said something to her, and she responded flirtatiously before disappearing beneath the glassy surface of a pool. There were others around the pool outside talking, laughing, and eating.
In the middle of the large den was a sunken area that held a couple of couches in an L-shape, facing a few more chairs with a coffee table between them. A television hung over a massive stone fireplace, displaying a college football game. A bald guy sat on one of the couches, wearing nothing but an open shirt and a pair of swim shorts. A girl lay across the rest of the couch with her head in his lap. She wore one of the smallest bikinis I’d ever seen, showing off a slender tummy and sporting a pair of breasts that might have been a small C-cup on anyone else but looked closer to a B on her tall frame. She must have been at least six feet tall, and while her legs had an appropriate thickness to them, they looked slender thanks to how long they were. Her light brown hair was short, cut in a boyish fashion that left her neck looking slender and swanlike. She had a bold nose, pouty ruby-red lips, and a pair of slightly downturned eyes that gave her an innocent girl-next-door quality. Her lips were slightly parted, and she appeared sleeping in the man’s lap.
A younger man with shaggy brown hair sat in the chair across the coffee table, talking to him animatedly. He wore a simple pair of shorts and a t-shirt, but I didn’t pay much more attention to him as I was immediately drawn to the several lines of white powder spread across the glass surface of the coffee table. A few straws were strewn around a few empty plates of bones, remnants of chicken wings, ribs, and a half-eaten burger.
I noticed another bikini top draped over the back of the couch and found a couple near a hallway. The man had a girl pressed against the wall with his tongue in her mouth; her bare tits were rubbing against his chest as she had her fingers tucked into the back of his pants, clearly kneading his ass. Five guys on the other side of the room were sitting around a table; two appeared to be in a deep discussion over something as they held cards in their hands. Two of Chloe’s men were standing in the room, taking in everything with mild interest.
“What is all this?” I asked, staring around the room.
“A party,” Chloe said.
“Eyyyyyy!” the bald man with the woman in his lap shouted, drawing my attention. He pointed and called out to me again, “You’re the guy!”
He seemed a little off, so I glanced around the room to make sure there was no one else he could have possibly been talking about and then said, “You talking to me?”
“Yeah! You! You’re the new… guy! Man… you’ve been all over the TV!” He looked back at the man he’d been talking to from across the table and said, “Yo! This guy’s the new guy! Fuck. What’s his name!?”
The shaggy-haired man glanced at me and gave me a brief once-over before leaning away from us and whistling. “Shit… I could’ve told you if you hadn’t asked me. That’s… uh… shit! I can’t remember. That’s T’s brother, right?”
“Yeah! That’s right! Yo! New guy!” Baldy said, leaning forward as he placed a hand on one of the breasts of the girl passed out on his couch. She immediately began to stir and moan. “You want some?” He waved his hand over the table where the drugs were laid out. “Bring some of those fine honnies, too!”
I was reminded of the last time I’d seen white powder like that and looked at Bobbi. She held her bottom lip between her teeth as she stared longingly at the lines of coke running across the table’s glass surface. Her fingers were interlocked with each other in front of her, and she was fidgeting with them. Despite having not had access to the stuff for the last few weeks, it only took one look at the drugs to stir the monstrous cravings within her.
“Helen,” I said. “Why don’t you take Bobbi somewhere else?”
“Come on, pet. We both could use a bathroom,” Helen murmured, not hesitating to slip her arm around Bobbi and guide her little submissive down the nearby hallway, trailed by one of my security guards. Bobbi didn’t fight against Helen, but she did stare over her shoulder at the drugs openly displayed for the world to see. That look of desire in her eyes was palpable, and I knew that if given half the chance, she would indulge in some of her old habits, and I didn’t want that for her.
“Aw… why’d you make ’em leave?” Baldy asked as he and Shaggy both leaned over the coffee table. The movement disturbed the tall girl, and she pulled her head off the lap she’d been resting in, slowly sitting up and stretching as she looked around the room at the newcomers. Her dark blue eyes focused on me as much as they could.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
As she dropped her arms from her stretch, one of the straps of her bikini slid down her shoulder, and the small strip of fabric slipped, exposing tiny pale pink nipples surrounded by small areola. My eyes immediately tracked to the exposed flesh, and I unconsciously licked my lips. Bobbi had her drug, and I had mine. Fortunately, I had a little more self-control than my submissive—barely.
“He’s the one all over the news,” Shaggy said. “It’s—”
“Oh! That’s his brother!” she said, suddenly going from mildly interested to very interested. Unaware that she was partially exposed, she stood up to her full height. She had to be over six feet, which made her taller than even Emily… possibly equal in height to me. Her pale legs were long and coltish as she sidled up to me, so close that I could smell the old chlorine and something slightly medicinal on her. She gave me a smile meant to be seductive but was a little off, thanks to whatever she was on. I had to admit, though… she was cute as hell.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Wendy.”
“Hi, Wendy,” I said, cataloging that away. I might have been very interested in getting to know her in another setting, but I couldn’t afford the distraction right now. Besides, she didn’t look like she was all there right now. “I’m Marcus,” I said, my tone a little flirty despite my decision.
“Seriously?” Emily said, looking at me.
“Yeah… she looks like she needs a doctor more than some dick,” Erin muttered.
“Don’t shame Marcus,” Natashya said. “She’s lovely… even when she is that color.”
Her eyes seemed to take on a bit more life, and she started to open her mouth to say something… Then, her complexion took on a light shade of green. She clamped her mouth shut, and the attempt at seduction vanished, replaced by a look of extreme discomfort.
“‘Scuse me,” she muttered and bolted down the hall where the two were making out.
“Poor thing,” Natashya said, watching the tall, slender girl make her escape.
The two on the couch cracked up laughing, and Baldy hunched over the coffee table to do another line. “Don’t worry about her. She just doesn’t know how to hold her drugs yet.” He leaned into the back of his couch and inhaled deeply, his eyes closed. “Want a bump?”
“Thanks,” I said as I approached the coffee table, eyeing the white powder. “I appreciate the invite, but I’ll pass this time.”
“Cool,” Baldy said. “More for us,” he said with a wide smile.
“Knock yourselves out,” I said as I noticed a man rounding the corner of the door leading to the outdoor patio. He had a plate piled high with various ***********ions of meat, stood about 5’9” tall, with lean muscle and angular features, and was good-looking enough to be an actor. His nose was sharp and hawkish; he had a bold chin, high cheekbones, and damp hair slicked back with strands falling just above his eyes. He spotted me and immediately broke out into a grin.
“You’ve got to be him. Marcus, right?” He asked, approaching us.
“Yeah,” I said cautiously. “Quentin?”
His eyes never leaving me, he set the plate down on the coffee table, then rounded it and approached me, extending his hand in greeting. “I hear we’re brothers.”
I stared down at his hand, a little thrown off by this whole scenario—the drugs, music, and the presence of people I didn’t know ingesting God knew how many different inebriants. Thanks to movies and my experience with Bobbi’s dealer, Candice, I expected people who were emaciated, with bad teeth and other health problems to attack us or get aggressive about taking drugs.
What I hadn’t expected was for the people to be relatively good-looking and the place to be so clean. Yeah, there was some trash on the floor, the table was covered in drugs, and the smell of marijuana hung in the air, but other than that, the place appeared to be intact. All the people here were clean-cut, looked like they went to the gym several times a week, and would have fit perfectly in any high-end office job in the city. I guess drugs didn’t take as much of a toll on a person when they could afford to stave off the consequences.
I shook it, realizing I’d gone too long without taking Quentin’s hand, and it probably seemed rude. His grip was firm but not to the point where it hurt; he seemed to know just how much strength to apply without coming off as a total jerk, and I matched his firmness. “Marcus,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “I know who you are. You’ve been all over the news. Just this morning, someone caught you outside Helena’s having brunch.”
I felt the blood drain from my face as I realized that meant someone caught me and Danni out and about. I hadn’t thought much about it. The rabid photographers had started to die down a bit, and my security team was pretty good at keeping my location from becoming common knowledge. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean some random with a cell phone still couldn’t get a decent picture of me and sell it for a quick buck. Hopefully, Danni hadn’t seen it yet.
I glanced at Erin. “Don’t worry,” she said. “She’s seen it, and we’re handling it.”
Fuck.
“Yeah. Keeping a low profile’s been a bitch,” I said, turning my attention back to my brother. Was he my older brother? And Chandler had mentioned twins. “How old—”
“Fucktard!” one of the guys at the small table shouted and kicked it so hard that pieces flew through the air and rained on the hardwood floors. Chloe whipped around, her hand disappearing under the light jacket she wore as she eyed the man who had kicked the table. “You told me you didn’t have sheep when I asked!”
“Why the fuck did you do that!?” one of the other men shouted, standing up to look his friend in the eye. “You fucked up the board!”
“I don’t give a fuck!” the angry man shouted back. “You always do this! You—”
“Hey!” Quentin called out, glaring at the two. “It’s a fucking game! Go cool off.”
The angry man looked torn and pointed at the rest of his friends. “T—”
“I said cool off. There’s some green out by the pool. Take a few hits and go sit in the tub.”
The five men sitting around the table slowly got to their feet, grumbling at each other as they made their way toward the door. The guy on the couch cupped his mouth and said, “Little bitch booooys!”
“Denny!” Quentin snapped. “Shut your shithole!” Then he looked back at me. “Fucking Catan… hate that stupid game.”
“Yeah,” I said noncommittally, not caring about the little exchange. Was it normal for rich people to get high and play Settlers of Catan? “Is there a place we can go that might be a little quieter?”
“Well,” Quentin said with a smirk, “There’s some rooms down here, but they might be occupied, you know? Might be better off finding a bedroom upstairs or something.”
“What about a study?” I asked, hoping to check that box off my list. “Did Colin have some kind of home office here?”
“Yeah,” Colin said, eyeing me a little suspiciously. “But that’s not gonna work. Gramps always kept his study locked tighter than… well… tight.”
I glanced at Erin, and she reached into her bag to produce a small ring of keys and jingle them as she held one between her index finger and thumb. “Got the office key right here.”
Looking back at Quentin, I caught him checking out Erin, his gaze traveling up her body before settling on the keys she held. I couldn’t blame him for that either—Erin was a goddess in a 5’2” package.
Quentin stared at the keys for a long moment before finally turning his gaze back to me. “So… guess it’s true. You really did get it all from the old man. This place, too?”
There wasn’t any severe heat in his voice when he said it, and I couldn’t detect notes of jealousy, but still… something about how he said it made me feel a little defensive. After all, I’d spent plenty of time second-guessing myself; I didn’t need this guy helping me do something I’d already mastered.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to diffuse any possible tension. “I guess so, but don’t worry… I’m not here to kick you out or anything. You were here before I even knew I was a Gerrard.”
“Thanks,” Quentin said dryly.
When he said nothing else, I almost asked again for a quiet space, but then he looked around. “Yeah, it’s a little loud in here. Let’s go check out that study.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder and guided me away from the middle of the room, heading for a hallway. “I haven’t been in there in like… a year.”
Chloe took up a spot just behind me; a simple glance at her was all it took to see that she was a little uncomfortable with Quentin getting familiar with me so rapidly, but apparently, it wasn’t enough to make her intervene. She wasn’t letting me get far out of her reach, though.
As we headed down the hall, with Erin, Emily, and Natashya in tow, Quentin asked, “So, that must have been one hell of a thing, finding out about your dad—our dad.”
“Ehhh… you could say that,” I said. “It took me quite a while to figure out that it wasn’t some kind of elaborate joke or mistake.”
“You don’t think it’s either of those things, huh?” Quentin asked.
“Well,” I said, feeling defensive again. Nina seemed to think that’s precisely what it was. “It’s pretty iron-clad. Apparently, this is what our grandpa wanted.”
“Yeah… I guess so. Not gonna lie… I was shocked as hell to find out about you and that you got everything. Not as shocked as everyone else. There wasn’t any love lost between me and Gramps, so I didn’t expect to get much… maybe enough to get fucked up on for the rest of my life. Writing out every single member of his family except someone he’d never met, though? The old man had more ice in his veins than I realized!” Quentin chuckled.
Quentin stopped in front of a thick, dark wood paneled door and gestured to it. Chloe took the keys from Erin and opened the door, taking a few moments to peer inside.
“John,” she called out, and one of my other bodyguards slipped by us to join Chloe at the front. I hadn’t even realized he had been behind us. “You take right. I’ll take left. Just need to clear it.”
“What is it?” I asked, peering over Chloe’s shoulder. Erin did the same, looking around John and gasping at what we both saw.
“What’s wrong?” Emily asked from behind me.
The office looked like a tornado had crashed through it. Cabinet doors were haphazardly open, and their contents spilled on the floor. The desktop was completely bare, its contents scattered. Against one wall a torn painting with a broken frame leaned against the wall under an opened and empty safe. The office had been completely and utterly ransacked.
“Fuck,” I said and started to move into the office. An arm dropped on mine, though, as Erin halted me.
“Might want to let Chloe and John do their job first, boss.”
I was itching to move into the room and start searching. Still, Erin was right—I’d hired Chloe and her team to do a job, and not letting them perform their duty would have been foolish, so I stood by Erin and watched them cautiously move around the room, searching for any sign of danger. Making the most of waiting, I studied everything I could lay my eyes on in hopes of spotting something useful—mostly a flash drive.
Reaching the far window of the office, Chloe checked it out, looking for any signs of damage or entry while John studied the safe nearby.
“It’s clear,” Chloe said, turning away from the window. “You can come in.”
I stepped into the office and heard glass crunching under my feet. The sour taste of disappointment was thick in my throat. This wasn’t what I’d expected to find.
“Don’t touch anything,” Chloe said. “We need to dust for prints.”
“How?” I asked as I surveyed the wreck that was my grandfather’s office.
“No cameras,” Chloe said as her eyes scanned the corners of the room. “I don’t think there’s any surveillance security on the premises. Don’t think you’ll get that question answered.”
I felt slender fingers slip into mine and glanced up to see Erin standing supportively beside me. She squeezed my hand before letting go and carefully walking further into the room.
“You didn’t know about this?” I turned back toward the door to see Quentin leaning against the wooden frame, staring listlessly into the room. “How long have you been out here?”
Quentin shrugged. “About a week?”
“And you didn’t hear anything?” I asked.
“Nope,” he said, looking around the room. He didn’t look particularly disturbed, which I found strange. I don’t care what my relationship with my grandfather was like; if a room in my family home had been ransacked more than a week ago, I would have been highly disturbed.
Clearly, he could see the suspicion written all over my face because he said, “Like I said, I haven’t been in this room in more than a year. Gramps kept it locked.”
“And you haven’t been the least curious about what’s in here?” I asked.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been busy.”
I sighed and looked around the room, feeling my hope of finding anything here beginning to crumble. “You guys see anything interesting?” I asked my security detail.
“That,” Chloe said. She kept her hands in her pockets the entire time, so she simply nodded at a laptop under the desk. It had a hole drilled through it roughly where a mechanical hard drive would be. “Your visitor knew what they were doing.”
“Dammit,” I muttered. “What are the chances of it having a digital hard drive?”
“Computer looks older,” Chloe said, looking doubtful, “but we can try.
“Safe’s been drilled,” John said, pushing the door partially closed with an elbow so the hole was completely visible. “Looks like a clean job.”
“Definitely knew what they were doing,” Chloe said, peering at the hole in the safe’s door.
“Bar looks good,” Quentin said, and the sound of crunching glass told me he was stepping into the room. Chloe, John, and I turned to see him making his way to a bar along one wall with several bottles of liquor behind it and a couple of glasses resting on its surface.
“Don’t touch anything,” Chloe groused.
“Make me, Karen,” Quentin said, reaching for one of the glasses.
“Quentin!” I barked, and he stopped just short of reaching for the glass. Instead, he turned, leaned back against the bar, and cocked his head to the side, appraising me. I could tell he was offended by the tone I’d taken with him, but he was trying to keep his emotions in check. The way he worked his mouth suggested his casual bravado was a facade.
“Well… look at you, walking in here and barking orders,” he said. He sounded amused, but his tone had an undercurrent of malice.
“She told us to not touch anything,” I said. “You want them to find out who did this or not?”
“I don’t care,” Quentin said. “Honestly, I might have done the same if I’d been able to get in here.”
“Then just leave. We don’t need you contaminating anything.”
“Fuck that,” Quentin said, any attempt to hide his contempt fading with every word. “I’ve been coming here since I was a kid. I’ve been throwing parties here for years. Suddenly, you show up and start giving orders? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Now, I was getting mad.
Sure, Quentin may have had a reason to hate me because I inherited everything from under him, but he didn’t know me. I would have been happy to have another brother to share everything with. He could have brought his friends back here all he wanted for all I cared, but not if he was going to be a complete asshole. I already had one Jacob in my life. I didn’t need another.
“I’m the guy who owns this place, and you’re trespassing. I feel like I’ve been perfectly reasonable, considering I’ve only known you for fifteen minutes, and I certainly haven’t given any orders, but if you can’t listen to simple instructions that make sense, round everybody up and take your party somewhere else.”
“Hey, baby!” a voice called out from just outside the office door in the hallway. “Are you in here?”
My blood ran cold.
I knew that voice.
I turned toward the study door.
Natalie blinked as she stared back at me through the doorway, looking as stunning as she did confused. She wore a yellow bikini that contrasted beautifully with her caramel skin. The triangles of fabric over her large breasts covered most of each mound—making it conservative compared to some of the others I’d seen in the house—but left plenty of side boob and cleavage for my eyes to feast on. The curves of her waist begged for an arm to wrap around them, and they flared into very feminine hips that supported a generous but firm ass. The cut of the bikini bottoms ran high on her hips, leaving most of them bare and mouthwatering. Her dark hair hung loosely halfway down her back, her full lips were slightly parted, and her dark eyes were wide in shock.
Whatever surprise she was feeling couldn’t have begun to compare to mine.
“Marcus?” Natalie asked with disbelief in her voice.
“Natalie?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”
I didn’t mean for it to sound so mean or accusatory, but I was just so confused. Natalie was supposed to be on vacation with her new boyfriend. She wasn’t supposed to be standing in my vacation home-turned-drug den. Well, that wasn’t exactly true… I’d asked her to come with me, but she made it perfectly clear that wasn’t going to happen. So why the fuck was I looking at her in my house dressed like that?
I wasn’t the only one surprised. So was everyone else. Everyone in that room was stone still, waiting breathlessly for the answer.
“What?” Natalie asked. She grabbed the door frame and leaned into the room to look around so she wouldn’t have to step on broken glass with her bare feet. “I was invited!”
I balked at that. “Wait… Tyler’s here?” I looked at Quentin. “You’re friends with Tyler?”
Instead of answering my question, Quentin walked past me to Natalie, took her hand, leaned in, and planted his lips on hers. “Hey.”
Natalie kissed him back, but—unable to take her eyes off me—it was a distracted reciprocation. When she didn’t look at him, Quentin repeated, “Hey, Nat.”
Nat… that was what I called her. Never mind that half the people at Marduke called her that, too, but that’s what I called her… this guy didn’t get to call her that. He didn’t know her.
Did he?
Natalie finally tore her eyes away from me to look at Quentin. “Um… what?”
“What did you need?” Quentin asked.
Nat looked back at me. “What’s Marcus doing here?”
I started to speak, “I—”
“He owns the house now,” Quentin cut me off. “He had plans out here this weekend, and we were just discussing how to deal with this mix-up. Did you need something?”
“I, uh…” Natalie started, looking back and forth between me and Quentin. “I… um… I was just wondering if there was a good place for Wendy to lie down. She just threw up and—”
“Sure,” Quentin said, cutting her off. “My room. Remember how to find it?”
Natalie stared at Quentin for a prolonged moment and then slowly nodded.
“Go take her there. I’ll come check on her when we’re finished here.”
Natalie turned to leave but then hesitated as her gaze fell back on me. She still looked like she was trying to comprehend what I was doing there, and as I stared back at her, I wasn’t sure what to do. I wanted to grill her for information and find out what the hell was going on, but I couldn’t just do that in front of all these people… especially when she looked so confused.
“Marcus,” she started to say.
“Baby,” Quentin said, “Could you just take care of that for me?”
Chewing on the inside of her cheek like I’d seen her do countless times, Natalie gave one last glance between Quentin and me before finally turning to leave, brushing past a new person standing in the hallway—quite possibly one of the largest women I’d ever seen.
She stood about 6’3” tall, so she had a couple of inches on me. Her hair was dark pink and shaved on the sides while the remainder was pulled back in a tight ponytail. Built like an Amazon warrior, she wore a sleeveless shirt, well-fitting fatigues, and a pair of black boots that laced up to mid-calf. Her arms were as thick as my thighs and ripped, and I could tell the rest of her was just as muscular under the shirt she wore. She had tits, but it looked like she was wearing some sort of compression bra that kept them pressed close to her chest, making it impossible to know their size. She wore very little makeup and had a clear, fair complexion complimented by dark pink lips in a pleasant cupid’s bow shape.
She also had a large pistol strapped to her right thigh.
“Sorry,” the pink-haired woman said. Her voice was a little deeper than average for a woman but not unpleasant. “She insisted.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” I demanded.
Quentin looked around the room at everyone else and said, “Everyone, clear out! Marcus and I need to talk.”
Erin, Emily, and Natashya looked at me while John glanced at Chloe. No one actually moved, though.
“I’m staying,” Chloe insisted.
“John,” I said. “Can you escort Erin, my sister, and Natashya back downstairs? Chloe and I will join you guys as soon as we can.”
John glanced at Chloe, who nodded her head once. He moved toward the door. “Yes, sir.”
The girls glanced at each other before giving me uncertain looks, and I nodded at them in reassurance. Emily and Natashya turned to leave, but Erin waited a beat longer as if double-checking to make sure I was okay. Then she went with the others, and John followed them out.
Quentin turned and headed back to the bar. “Liz, come in and shut the door behind you.” The Amazonian woman complied and leaned against the door with her tree trunk arms crossed over her chest. She was clearly some sort of security for Quentin and looked intimidating as hell, guarding our only way out. Chloe, who probably weighed a hundred pounds less than this woman, simply leaned against the office desk, looking cool and feigning unconcern as she eyed the two strangers. I was starting to get better at reading her.
“You said your name’s Quentin,” I said, not bothering to hide the heat in my voice.
“I always hated that name,” Quentin said, reaching behind the bar and pulling out a fresh bottle. He began unstoppering it, giving Chloe a look that dared him to try and stop him. Chloe simply gave him her best dead-eyed stare.
“My middle name’s Tyler,” he said, pouring a couple fingers of brown liquor into one of the glasses on the table. “It’s what my friends call me.”
He took a sip, swallowed it, and smirked. “Nat, too.”
The moment that stupid smirk crossed his lips… that’s when Quinten Tyler Gerrard took Roger VanCamp’s place at the top of my ‘most hated’ list.
Thanks again for checking out another chapter! If you’ve got thoughts or feedback, I’d love to hear from you—just shoot me an email. If you’re interested in reading more, head over to my Patreon: patreon.com/mindsketch.
Book I is finished and fully available there, plus there are 20 bonus chapters for Tier 2 patrons—including one that picks up right after this one. I’ve also started Book 2, and Chapters 1 through 15 are already up.