“He never listened to me about the dangers of lying to her, his own sister. Then he lied. He connived. We buried someone we thought was him… and now what? No, let him rot out there on his own. Clearly he doesn’t need us.”
I hear him sigh deeply. “I know it’s fucked up, King, but I swear, something’s off about that whole thing. I think he’s in trouble.” I stay silent. “King, he needs our help.”
“Is that what he’s been telling you?” I growl. He remains silent, proving that they’re actually talking. “Tell me then, in your little chats has he explained why he did it? Has he explained why he told you to take what’s mine?”
When I think back to my best friend taking what’s mine, I want to murder something.
“I haven’t asked why he wanted me to marry her, but don’t dare think I wouldn’t do it in a heartbeat.”
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I didn’t ask him about that.”
Of course. One thing about Emmett motherfucking Easton, he doesn’t meddle. Breathing down someone’s neck or forcing you to listen to reason, that’s not his style.
He just watches and sees things in a way no one else does. So, when he speaks, like now about George being in trouble, he must know something.
“What’s he said so far?”
“That he’s fucking sorry and you’re icing him out.”
I grunt, listening to Star laugh from the living room where she’s talking to her friends.
“He doesn’t need me or mine. He proved that three years ago.”
“King…”
“He has his family to take care of, doesn’t he? A wife and baby.”
“He’s not married,” he mutters, sounding exasperated.
“Oh, what a shocker. I wonder why.” Besides the fact that his girl is shady as hell and Star acts like she doesn’t exist at all.
“You’re a fucking pain in the ass, you know that?” Emmett says with a sigh.
“Why the fuck are you acting shocked about what you’ve known all our lives?”
“Not shocked, just wasn’t prepared for your unforgiving assholery.”
I burst out laughing. “Well, are you coming to this thing or not?”
“Have you called Noah?”
“Thought you two were partying together these days.”
He sighs. “Hitting up clubs because we’re both miserable fucks, unlucky at love, doesn’t mean we’ll suddenly mend the rift between us.”
Well, then.
“You still haven’t explained what you meant about Christina and Craig?”
“He never asked.”
“And yet you live together. Go to the same fucking university and are fucking preparing to go into business together.”
“We’re gentlemen, King, we can put our differences aside for as long as necessary. Deception after all, is the best game.”
Deception…
“You know what, I think I know how we can spice Star’s shit up.”
Emmett pauses, no doubt thinking it through, weighing the pros and cons like he always does. “You know, I think you like it when she’s mad at you.”
“I do.” I smirk.
“Just know the rest of us don’t share that sentiment. She’s scary as hell when she’s pissed.”
True, so what to do…
“There’s only one way to solve this,” I say with a grin. Emmett sighs.
“Noah just walked in. I’m putting you on speaker.”
Good!
“Okay boys, the girls are planning their shit.”
“The girls?” Emmett says and I chuckle.
“Oh yes, Ivy will be there.”
“Fuck.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Em,” I say with a chuckle. “I did tell you it’s a fucked up operation.”
“I bet it’s a take down, those girls are wicked,” he says.
“Oh, hell no,” Noah seethes. “We need to teach them a lesson.”
“A lesson in a game,” I mutter, a plan forming in my head.
“Just so you know, I’m keeping my deniable plausibility over this shit,” Emmett says with a resigned sigh.
“So?” Star prompts, her beautiful face scrunched up in a frown.
“So, nothing baby. Everything’s good. They’re both coming,” I say with a smile I know she loves so much. Her shoulders ease, the tension leaving her body. “But they all have to travel together from Westbrook Blues. With Ivy. And Kimberly.”
“Ah yes, there’s that.” She winces. “I guess there’s no better time to find out that your week-long getaway will be in close quarters with people who wronged you or who you’ve wronged.”
Hmm, if she says so. What my baby doesn’t know is, it’s war. And the boys won’t lose this one.
Pulling up on the tarmac where the private plane is waiting, I step down from the golf cart thingy that picked me up when I arrived at the private hangar my rich friends use when they travel.
Talk about life for the top 0.01%.
Looking around at the tarmac, I see other private jets in hangars, evidence of the lavish lifestyle most residents of Westbrook Blues can afford.
But none of the other planes hold a candle to the glossy black sizable private jet on the runway, with a phoenix engulfed in flames running the length of its body in an intimidating, bold manner.
Holy shit.
I stare at the plane, hardly able to blink. Phoenix Corps. Nobody makes a statement like they do.
Is this what Raea meant when she said she’ll take care of everything? Is she now close to her father, the don of the Phoenix Corps?
And where on earth are we even going?
The thing about Raea is, she’s impulsive. She makes life-threatening decisions on the fly, just like one other person I know—used to know is more like it.
I guess that’s why she and Noah are thick as thieves best friends. Case in point being what happened on this very tarmac over a year ago.
I wasn’t here when the last showdown happened on this very tarmac between Raea and her man, but I heard that some pretty nasty, scathing words were exchanged, hearts cast away and a whole lot of devastation, so I think my being superstitious as hell right now is hella justified.
This place is oozing with bad aura and that black plane with flames isn’t doing much to soothe me either, sparking memories of my rotten corpse of a father and the things he made me do. The things he did to me…
Shake it off, bitch. It’s Christmas. Raea wants a happy, cheerful Kim, so let’s give her that.
But still, I can’t help the tension in my shoulders as dread pools in the pit of my empty growling stomach the longer I stare at that private jet.
This is a bad idea.
Actually, this is the worst idea I’ve ever agreed to.
Like the time I almost lost my virginity to a nerdy kid who was bullied every day at my last high school because I felt sorry for the jerk who ended up bragging to the entire school that I fucked him. Did I deny it? Nope, but I did make his life a bit shitty after that until he apologized.
But still, this reeks of a bad idea, a disaster waiting to happen, especially considering the rocky relationship between Raea and me.
You agreed, bitch, basically made a commitment. There’s no backing out of this now. Should’ve been a bit more firm with that no, bitch.
Maybe I still have time to turn back and go back to my side of the world. I can just fake a sudden illness or something. PMS! Raea knows how much of a bitch I am during my days!
I make to turn around but the guy who drove me is there, watching me with kind eyes that see way too much.
“That’s your plane, miss,” he says as if hurrying me along. Definitely a Phoenix Corps asshole. “You can go in. The others are waiting for you. Your bag will be loaded by the attendants.”
“Uh, make sure you handle my baby with care, or we’re going to have problems, Bob,” I warn, a bit of heat seeping into my words.
I’m pre
tty sure his name isn’t Bob but something else I forgot the moment he mentioned it, but whatever. I’m nervous, hungry, and sure I should go back and get my sisters. “That bag costs more than your life.”
Well, it doesn’t but he doesn’t need to know that.
It’s not just because all my good shit is packed in there, but because that bag matters to me more than anything.
Of course it looks like it’s going to fall apart. Like everything of mine, it’s old, ratty, and found in a Goodwill box and I’m super possessive of it.
It’s raggedy but it’s the most reliable thing that belongs to me fully, besides my army switchblade knife that’s strapped to my ankle right now. It’s been with me through sleeping under bridges and in abandoned, ratty and cold cars when Luci threw me out of our trailer and told me to go die if I couldn’t be of use to her.
“You’ll probably have that knife strapped to your inner thigh when you fuck and when you’re fucking dead in a box.”
A strained sigh escapes my lips as Noah’s words about my knife from a forever ago, filter in my head. That was a different kind of forever, one that I tried to hold on to, but well, here we are.
I try my best not to think about him but like everything else in my life, I fail at that too. Miserably.
I turn back to see Bob step down from the cart to get my bag.
“Careful,” I mutter. I don’t want to tell him how that bag saved my life on countless occasions when I had it packed and hidden right inside the door of all our trailers. And that’s plural.
We moved a lot, thanks to Luci. From one nasty, seedy park to another. It was only a matter of time until I needed to escape from my mother, so I had it ready to go. I never knew when my disgusting father would show up to beat me up, so I had to be prepared.
Too bad I wasn’t the night he showed up to draft me in his sick, twisted revenge fantasy to ‘handle’ my best friend who he…
Breathe. Don’t go back there.
Yes it’s reliable but here I am, about to get on that plane with my fucking heart about to give in. Like a damn pig going in for slaughter with a smile.
“Of course, miss,” he says. “Your bag will be taken care of with the utmost care.”
Utmost care, huh? I might get used to that. “You do that, Bob.”
I don’t know if he’s expecting a tip or something. If he is then he’s shit out of luck because this bitch can’t afford to spend a cent unless it’s an emergency.
I already feel out of place standing here. Why Raea decided to send this, this monstrosity of a jet just to pick me and Ivy up for this stupidly lavish holiday getaway isn’t helping matters with my pride or my wounded ego when it comes to handouts.
An economy ticket would’ve sufficed. Not that I even know where I’m going.
Scraps of food and the occasional change from strangers who pitied my state of homelessness when Luci threw me out for days or was it weeks, is one thing but this, from people I regard with respect, it’s too much.
“You can go in, miss.”
“I need a moment, Bob, don’t push me.”
“Of course.”
I see him take my bag to the plane. For a moment, I want to call after him and demand he bring it back, but another guy appears from out of nowhere and takes the bag onto the plane.
Imposter syndrome.
I have it in spades. But this time, I won’t give them another reason to feel like they need to extend a sympathetic hand to the struggling little traitor.
Huddling in my black jacket as a cold chilly breeze picks up, I walk toward the plane.
“Have a good trip, miss.”
“Wait.” Swiveling around, I look at him potently. “What did you mean by ‘the others’ are waiting for me?”
“Uh, you’re not traveling alone, miss.” He says it like I should know this shit. I frown.
“What? Who else is in there besides Ivy?”
Before the guy can answer, I hear a sweet voice behind me.
“Kimmy!”
With a sigh of relief, I turn around and see Ivy standing at the top of the stairs, leading to the open door, waving incessantly at me.
“You’re here!” she shouts, excited. “And so late!”
Considering I wanted to bail, these bitches are lucky I even showed up at all.
“Am I?” I say smoothly, swallowing down my nervousness. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t noticed. You know with how packed my schedule usually is.” And that’s not a joke, I am busy as fuck.
“Girl, get up here and let’s go!”
Okay, so I’m really doing this? I suck in a deep breath, then exhale softly, feeling like I should be gearing up for war or something.
“Coming,” I singsong dramatically, taking one tentative step after another as the hairs at the back of my neck stand up on end.
I make my way up the short stairs and straight into her open arms and sigh.
Oh God, how can I describe Ivy’s hugs? They’re warm, soft, and homey, everything I imagine Christmas should be. I can smell her perfume, sweet yet light and so much like her, soothing my pounding heart.
Why is it pounding this hard?
“Hey druggie,” I say with a laugh, pulling back to look at my gorgeous friend closely. “Are you high today?”
“Ah stop with all that,” she whispers conspirationally, her eyes wide with some kind of warning. “I told you already, it was just coffee.”
“Yeah, sure. We’ll keep believing that for your alibi.” I chuckle. “I’m pretty sure they’ll come for you soon for your recent out of character wild ways.”
“Wild ways?” a deep voice demands from within the plane, making me freeze.
Looking past Ivy’s shoulder, my gaze connects with a pair of brown eyes much like Ivy’s but these are soft and cruel all at the same time. They make me shiver as I stand at attention.
What’s Spider doing here? I thought this was an all girls trip.
Really, bitch? Really?
Schooling my facial features, I narrow my gaze at him, revealing nothing of my confusion and say, “Don’t act surprised, you’re the one who gave her that ‘coffee’.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” I say, looking at the handsome smart fool as he involuntarily flexes his muscles defined in that long sleeve muscle shirt. “You made her high.”
“Hey, I remember I specifically told her to only drink one cup,” Spider says with a shrug, a sexy smirk on his face. “It’s not my fault that my sister never listens to me.”
Ivy sighs, rolling her eyes. “I hate listening to you.”
“And there it is,” Spider says, but his intelligent gaze doesn’t leave his sister. “But what did she mean by wild ways? And before you attempt to lie, I know for a fact that that coffee didn’t give you that moniker.”
Uhh… here comes the overprotective brother who takes no prisoners when it comes to his family. I wish I had someone who protected me like that. Like Raea’s boys protect her at all costs.
“Mind your business, Samuel,” Ivy mutters, annoyed then she shoots me a look. I smirk, unperturbed.
I’m pretty sure Ivy’s going to kill me for poking at a sleeping lion who incidentally doesn’t know her sister is half in love with one of the guys he considers his friends.
“You are my business, Ivy,” Samuel, aka, Spider says seriously. “What are these wild ways, sis?”
“What wild ways?” Ivy stutters, looking at every luxurious detail of the plane, anywhere but at him.
“Whatever Kimberly is talking about.”
“That’s exactly what I want to know,” another voice says from deeper in the plane.
With my heart in my throat, I step further into the plane. Turning to my left, I see him. His large frame settled in the black leather seat with a sexy ease about him, looking every bit the silently powerful god I know he is, but his forest green, all-knowing gaze is directly on Ivy.
I didn’t think I’d see him here, but as I stare at him w
ith my jaw slack, my internal alarms start blaring.
“No one would ever describe your sister as wild,” Emmett drawls, his legs crossed in that wealthy, big dick energy pose he and his friends have, his eyes on Ivy who’s now staring down at her shoes like she’s wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. The fuck?
“This is a first for me too,” Spider counters. “And told by the great Kimberly Allory of all people.”
“Don’t call me that,” I grit out, too harshly, but everyone here knows why I loathe my last name. With every fiber in my being.
“Ah, there she is,” Spider says with a laugh. “I was wondering if you’re still a bitch or not.”
“Fuck you, Spider.”
“Missed you too, baby girl,” he says with a smile. “Good to see you, but don’t sidetrack me. I’m not letting this go. What wild ways?”
I glance at Ivy and then back at Spider.
“Explain,” Emmett says, that one word making me stifle a shiver, but Ivy, she all but trembles. I’m just not clear if it’s from fear or from the carnal sexy base in Emmett’s voice which is a shock to discover. In all the time I’ve met the silently brooding, sexy as hell god called Emmett Easton, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say anything without someone asking him a direct question and now, I wish someone had kept him talking because Jesus Christ, his voice…
If I hadn’t secured my armor before stepping on this plane, my jaw would’ve been on the floor by now.
“Well?” Spider prompts, watching his sister, with a mimosa in hand. “Explain yourself, Ivy.”
Glancing at Emmett, I see him tilting his head, as if also waiting for an explanation.
“I don’t…” Ivy mumbles and I turn to look at her.
Oh hell no. No one’s going to take my friend’s voice from her!
“She doesn’t need to explain herself to anyone,” I say, finding my bitchy voice. “She’s grown and she can make her own decisions.”
“But…” Spider starts but I cut him off.
“There are no buts about it, Spider. She’s grown. The sooner you accept that she’s able to take care of herself and is responsible, the better,” I say with a huff. “And what the hell are either of you doing here? We don’t need chaperones or a judgy pair of guard dogs for our girls’ holiday trip.”
Frosty Blues: A Westbrook Blues Novella Page 9