BILLION DOLLAR WOLVES
...embrace the wild side of the King brothers...
D E E B RI D G N O R TH
Copyright © 2018
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Cut the Apron Strings
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mother Tongue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Eyes in the Back of Her Head
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mum’s the Word
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Mother of All
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cut the Apron Strings
Chapter One
“It’s disgusting how many people will turn out for a funeral,” Jason King murmured to his oldest brother, Orion.
Edward leaned closer and nudged Jason with his shoulder. “One could almost suggest they’re like wolves circling a carcass.”
“Knock it off.” Orion was almost too busy smiling and nodding at the funeral guests to spare enough time to comment on his brother’s tongue-in-cheek words. “Don’t make me send you guys to the car.”
Jason snorted. Did Orion honestly think that was punishment? “Can I please? I think that limo has a television in it.”
“Yeah,” Edward agreed. He was smirking and shooting their other two brothers sideways expressions of amusement. “I think it might be a good idea for Zane and Devon to just go ahead and start brawling. We could have the whole city talking about it by the six o’clock news.”
“That’s not exactly the kind of publicity we want,” Orion said wearily.
Sometimes Jason wondered why his older brother bothered. The man was thirty and looked as though he were carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. He was going to go gray and have a heart attack before he was forty. And for what? The family business?
Orion lifted his head and seemed to be staring at the back of the huge chapel. They’d had to hold their father’s funeral in the largest funeral home the city of Dallas had to offer. But then Mac King had been a pretty high profile man. King Security Solutions, Inc was one of the nation’s top internet security firms. Not that Mac King had known anything about the internet or computers, but he knew how to hire people that did.
“What are you looking at?” Jason finally poked Orion in the ribs. “You’re doing that stare into space thing again. It’s annoying.”
Orion slanted a sideways look of irritation at Jason. As the youngest King brother, Jason was pretty much guaranteed to piss
off the rest of them. It was his personal mission in life to get them to stop taking themselves so damn seriously.
“My boys!” Tisha Olivares-King was the toast of Dallas for most of the weekend. Not that the matriarch of the King boys seemed to be out of her element here at the funeral though. She reached for Jason and gave him a big kiss that no doubt left a trail of red lipstick all over his face. Ick. “We’re all going to have to stick together now. You know that. This is the time. This is the moment for us as a family.”
Orion’s expression did not change. Jason exchanged a look with his brother Zane. Jason was trying to read into what was going on in everyone else’s heads. What was up with their mother? She was acting—well, she always acted a bit on the fake side, but this was even worse than usual.
“Mother,” Orion said in a low tone of voice that did not travel beyond their little family group. “Tell me, are you doing this for the benefit of that red-haired reporter over by the doors? Or are you honestly trying to convince me that Dad’s death has caused you to feel more maternal than usual?”
“That’s rude.” Tisha’s tone suggested a glare, but her expression was indulgent and loving. It was a really disturbing contrast. “Now, put your arms around each other. Now. We’re going for the society page photo of the year. That red-haired reporter works for the Dallas Star.”
“Oh, of course.” Edward did not sound as though he appreciated their mother’s ploy at all, but he wasn’t about to argue with her, which was why he dutifully put an arm around Zane’s shoulders. “Because why would we allow them to see us grieving honestly for our father when we can stage something?”
“Shut up.” Tisha beamed at Edward and reached up to blot at an imaginary tear.
Jason couldn’t help it. He rolled his eyes. And then he wondered to himself if his mother carried around eye drops to make herself look as if she were crying. Jason had this horrifying mental image of Tisha Olivares-King ducking into corners and squeezing a few drops in her eyes so that she could turn around and bat her baby blues for the camera at any moment.
When Zane went to reach for Jason to draw him into the family embrace, it was too much. They were standing in front of their father’s casket in a funeral home where the entire population of Dallas’s heavy hitters, power brokers, and high society ladder climbers had gathered to mourn the passing of one of their patriarchs. In Jason’s opinion, his mother was using this whole thing like a publicity stunt. It was wrong and he was heartily sick and tired of her games.
Turning around, Jason walked away from the photo op. His mother’s glare was hot on his back. Jason didn’t care. Tisha Olivares-King could just be mad. She could be furious for all he cared. The woman looked like she could have played the leading role in a show called Housewives of Dallas. Tisha had huge, bleached blonde hair that stood out like a halo around her head. Her buxom figure had been sandwiched into a black designer suit complete with knee-high black boots that sported five-inch heels. She was a tiny woman really. Especially when one considered that she had birthed five strapping boys. But then none of them had ever resembled their mother.
“Jason! Where are you going, man? You can’t skip out on your own father’s funeral. What would people say?”
Jason turned and exhaled an irritated sigh. Of all the people who had the potential to be at this funeral, his father’s supposed right-hand man at King Security Solutions, Inc was the last person that Jason wanted to see. Tex Johnson was about as computer savvy as Mac King had been. Tex had been more of a money guy. Both Mac and Tex had come from oil families. They’d sunk their capital into the security business when the internet boom happened and voila! Instant money.
“I think they would say that it’s fine when people decide that they would prefer to grieve in private,” Jason told Tex.
The two men were standing in the far corner of the huge funeral home chapel. Considering the cost of using the place, it wasn’t all that swank. Jason put his hands on his hips and looked up at the plain vaulted ceiling with its skylights in hopes that Tex would just leave.
No luck on that front. Tex hooked his thumbs in his big leather belt and rocked back and forth on the heels of his tooled cowboy boots. “You know, your dad wouldn’t have wanted you to bicker with your family.”
“No?” Jason folded his arms over his chest. “I see, Tex. What would Dad have wanted? Because my father was what—sixty years old? He was a guy who had expected to live another thirty years at least. Right?” Jason did not add that because of Mac King’s extra physical traits, he should have been able to be healthy and virile up into his nineties. “So the fact that my father died in some bizarre accident on his ranch is just a little suspect, don’t you think?”
“Nah.” Tex shook his head. Then he spread his hands as though he were trying to convince Jason just to forget about it. “Mac was always the kind of guy to take chances. You know that. He went coyote hunting on a young horse. I don’t know why. The horse spooked. Your dad wound up falling off. The gun went off. Your dad got hit. His horse dragged him back to the barn. When I found him he was unconscious. It was a hunting accident plain and simple, Jase.”
Jason did not comment. What was there to comment on? The coroner had already done most of the commenting on the subject, hadn’t he? And most of that led to him ruling the death an accident. Jason gave a shake of his head and started to turn away.
Tex reached out and grabbed Jason’s shoulder. “Your mother needs your support, Jason. You and all of your brothers. This is just a really hard time for her right now.”
Jason might have responded, but at that moment the sound of his mother’s laughter pealed like the ringing of a bell above all of the sounds in the chapel. Jason turned to see Tisha with one arm looped around Orion and the other around Edward. She was leaning forward to accept condolences from a man that Jason recognized as the Dallas police chief.
“Yeah,” Jason said as he swung back around to face Tex. “I can see she’s really torn up. In fact, she might be so upset that it will require her to suck up to every person in Dallas who can fix a ticket.”
“You need to watch your mouth, boy.” Tex’s rough tone accompanied a hardening of his grip on Jason’s arm.
The beast that always lay just beneath Jason’s skin lifted its head and gave a snarl of irritation. Tex didn’t know the Kings. Not like he thought he did. And right now he was poking a rabid beast and he didn’t have any idea that Jason could bite his fingers off with one snap of his jaws.
“Let. Go.” Jason felt his lips curl in anger. His heart was speeding up. His fingers curled up and finally balled into fists and he could feel his nails elongating even as he stood there in the chapel. “You have no idea who you’re messing with, Tex Johnson. I suggest you step off and leave me be.”
Control. The King brothers had learned that at an early age from their father and their grandfather. Right now those lessons were long ago and far away. Jason knew that he was dancing on razor blades. He was on the verge of losing it and showing all of Dallas just what the Kings really had that made them different from everyone else.
“Jason.” The sharp voice belonged to his brother Zane. Grabbing Jason’s arm, he shot Tex Johnson a warning look. “Step off, Tex. I’ve got this.”
Tex lifted both hands as though he were completely conceding to big brother’s intervention. In reality, Jason could see the discomfiture in Tex’s eyes. The guy knew something wasn’t right. Good! Jason was sick and tired of everyone treating him like he was nothing but a warm body with a brain that wasn’t worth listening too.
Of course, this left Jason with Zane. His brother was busy dragging Jason out of the chapel and down a dark narrow hallway toward the administrative offices. There was nobody down here. The place was closed on a Saturday except for the funerals begin staged in the catacomb like interior of the place.
“What is wrong with you?” Zane swung Jason around and shoved him backwards into the wall.
Jason’s breath whooshed out of
his lungs with an unpleasant rush. He managed to stay calm though. Meaning he did not burst out of his human skin and turn into a raging wolf with sharp teeth, long claws, and a black silky coat that promised death. No. Jason managed to hang onto his temper. Then he snapped his teeth right in Zane’s face just to remind his brother to back off.
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Jason growled. “What’s wrong with you? You’re in there with the others as if Dad’s death was just a regular old event. Are you actually buying Mom and Tex’s story about a hunting accident? Come on!”
Zane let go of Jason and took a step back. He shoved his fingers through his reddish blond hair. Finally he exhaled a huge sigh and shook his head at Jason. “What else do we have to go on? You want to accuse who? Tex? Mom? You really think either one of them could have pulled this off?”
“I don’t know! But I’m not going to just sit back and do nothing.” Jason was disgusted with them all. He was sick of his mother’s bullshit. He was sick of his brothers and their family friends. He was sick of everything and he wanted it to change.
Zane grunted. It was a rude and rather odd noise, but Jason recognized it. It was a wolf noise. They were shifters. It was part of their nature and something that ran deep. Even when they were in their human bodies the beast was never far below the surface.
“Look,” Zane finally said. “How about this? You come and start hanging around the offices? You poke around. You ask questions.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters you need to start learning the business, don’t you think?” Zane snorted. “And for another thing, it will give you a chance to decide if you really believe that someone in our father’s life could be responsible for killing him off.”
“Fine.” Jason hated to admit it, but this was actually a good idea. Every once in a while his brothers acted slightly less like giant jackasses. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now will you come back to the funeral so I can get Mother off my back?” Zane raised his eyebrows.
Jason was struck suddenly by just how much Zane looked like their mother. It wasn’t a great thing. Not that his brother was hideous or looked like a woman, but all five of the King brothers favored either one parent or the other. Jason and Orion looked like their father with dark hair, swarthy skin, and dark brown eyes. Edward, Zane, and Devon looked more like their mother. Their complexion was darker than Tisha’s, but they all had that blondish-looking hair and blue eyes.
Billion Dollar Wolves: Boxset Bks 1-5 Page 1