by Snow, Nicole
Bella walks out of the house just as I hang up. She’s wearing jeans and another plaid shirt, looking as big a cock tease as she did the last time we went out.
Even when I’m in this state, I’m torn between picking her up and carrying her back in the house, then straight upstairs to my room. So I run for the pole shed to hide because I need to do some serious thinking without my dick doing it for me.
Shit.
With Dragon in jail, I thought I hadn’t needed to be on high alert for him, but I should’ve been.
“Drake? I emailed that letter to Roger,” she says, appearing suddenly, pulling on a pair of leather gloves. “And now, I’m going to clean out some flowerbeds.”
Frowning, I look at the ground around the edge of the house. The grass goes all the way to the concrete block foundation. “What flowerbeds?”
“Exactly.” She holds up a finger while pulling something out of her back pocket. She taps on her phone screen and then turns it toward me. “I just took a picture of the picture of this house that hangs in the office. On the wall by the window.”
I know the picture. It’s decades old, Jonah, his wife, and Gary when they were much younger. Jonah said it was taken shortly before she died.
“See the flowerbeds?” she asks.
I can’t say I’d noticed them before, but do now. “Roses?”
“Yup. Plenty on each side of the steps, then daylilies and irises. I’m not sure what the white ones are, but I’ll find something like them once I get the grass out of all the beds.” She glances at the picture. “I’m going to use edging instead of the little wire fence, but in the end, it’ll look a lot like this. Restored to its former glory.”
“That would spruce up the place real nice, but you’re asking for a lot of work.”
She nods, tucking her phone back in her pocket. “And? Seems like we’re pretty well equipped here. Got myself a wheelbarrow, shovel, rake, hoe...” She lays a hand on my arm. “And some really awesome muscle.”
Goddamn. The shimmer in her eyes ropes me in.
“Yeah? What will I get out of this deal?”
“Hmmm.” She steps closer, tugging at the neckline of my shirt. “Satisfaction?”
Fuck. Only Bella Reed could make the blandest, most prim and proper word in the whole damn dictionary sound like a filthy promise.
* * *
I do my thinking in the fresh air, keeping her happy.
We spend the day working on those flowerbeds, and the satisfaction I get later, while we shower together to clean up, is worth the hours of breaking sod and hauling it away in a wheelbarrow.
In no time, she’s pinned against the wall, legs splayed, her sweet pussy helpless under my mouth. I tongue-fuck her halfway up the wall, till she gives up that little quake in her body that tells me she’s really ready.
Then we fuckin’ ride.
And when I say ride, I mean her, bent over, hands pressed to the wall. My fist in her hair. My dick hammering inside her. My palm drifting down to her mouth, where she sinks her little teeth in and screams, right before I bring her off so hard she leans against the cool tile wall for support.
I pull at least three orgasms out of her and love ’em all. Then I let myself go, just pounding, balls smacking her clit, this savage growl tearing out of me as hellfire arcs up my balls and leaves my spine in cinders.
Somehow, we stop just long enough to focus on dinner. It’s country fried steak and thick mashed potatoes tonight, considering the appetite we’ve worked up. She also makes me one hell of a salad.
I still don’t finish, though. Only get halfway through before I have to stand up, grab her by the hand, and lead her upstairs.
We go like hell all night.
And when it’s over, when she’s pumped every last drop from my balls, snoozing next to me like this soft, defenseless kitten, I flop back and wonder.
What have I gotten myself into with this wildcat woman?
What if this dead Dragon and Jupiter shit is hardly the worst of my problems?
* * *
The following morning, while she’s ordering seeds, bare-root plants, and bulbs online, I step outside when Gary calls.
“The lawyer gave him a bottle of eye drops. I confirmed it with the deputy watching them, who allowed it because the box was still sealed.”
“Eye drops?” Christ.
“Turns out, the dead man wore contacts. Brown ones. Without them, his eyes were green. Rodney checked Adam Briar’s driver’s license again, and it said brown eyes.”
My neck stiffens. “An imposter?”
“Almost certainly. That wasn’t Avery’s son.”
Goddamn. I knew it.
Anger rushes through me. “Then what the fuck’s going on? Seriously?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll call you this afternoon with more. I had Molly invite Avery to lunch, just to discuss a new offer so he thinks we’re still interested. It took...favors to get her to go along with it. She doesn’t understand why we’re wasting our time.”
“Don’t trust anything he says,” I snarl.
“I don’t. We’ll talk later.” Gary clicks off.
I shove my phone in my pocket, running one hand over my face.
I’m still in disbelief. How long had the dead asshole pawned himself off as Adam Briar?
Do I even have the right guy?
Was he truly Winnie’s killer, or had he entered the picture later? A fucking body double, which I always thought only high level scum would have. Guys like Hitler or Saddam Hussein.
Can’t say Daddy Briar isn’t rich enough to get one for his son, though. Money buys all kinds of nasty surprises.
I’d never gotten a good look at him.
All I knew was he had a dragon tattoo behind his left ear, his namesake, and he was the one supplying Drew with drugs.
Drew wasn’t just using, he’d started peddling, and that’s what made Winnie so mad and desperate to clean up his mess. And scared.
When I think back to that last night at the bar, those tears weren’t just nerves or sadness. She was afraid he’d already gotten in too deep.
I spend the next few hours going over everything that happened back then.
I don’t want to remember some.
Like how I’d come within inches of killing a man before he’d told me who Dragon was, and how I considered it even after he talked.
How we found Dad one night, and Winnie’s body was found the next day.
How the Feds claimed they’d been searching for the Dragon, had a real neat case file and everything, but nothing ever happened. Her death was just another number, another unsolved mystery that’d never get closed because it didn’t bring enough glory to whatever fuck wanted his name on books next for busting famous cases.
How Angie hated me for being more focused on that than our family. Our loss.
Fury churns inside me when the camera alarm goes off on my phone.
Lovely timing.
I pull up the app and click on the camera that’s flashing, then watch a car coming up the driveway.
A newer, red SUV I don’t recognize.
I leave the pole shed, where I hadn’t been doing much of anything besides hiding from Bella while sifting through memories.
She’s near the porch, doing something with the flowerbeds again. Or that’s where I’d last seen her when I go running over again.
“Hey! I was wondering where you were,” she says, standing up.
“A car just pulled in.”
She takes off her gloves and tosses them on the porch.
Something about her grin makes me cautious, worried. “You expecting company?”
“Yes, we are.”
“We?” I bite it off, in no mood for games right now.
She nods and looks toward the driveway, where the SUV pulls in past the barn.
The hair on my neck stands up as I turn, watching the vehicle drift closer.
Fuck.
Fuck. Angie’s driving it, two famil
iar silhouettes of little heads bobbing in the back seat.
I turn to Bella. My jaw is so tight, it burns as I say, “You called her.”
She nods, fear flashing in her eyes. Maybe she realizes how bad she screwed up before the words are out of her mouth.
“You...you have to settle things between the two of you. It’s gone on long enough. Angie asked if she could come by and –”
“You don’t know shit about it,” I snarl, so harsh it hurts me.
This is the last thing I need. My estranged sister on my doorstep, those kids with their big doe eyes, having to relive a past that’s destroying my present.
Bella looks at me cautiously, her green eyes flashing. “I know enough, Drake. And I know how much better I feel since talking with my Dad. If you’d just trust me–”
“That’s not even close to the same thing.”
“Yes, it is.” She shoots me a nasty glare. “They’ve come a long way. You’d better not be grumpy to them.”
Fuck me. I’m well past grumpy. I’m about to slam my fist through the nearest hard surface I can find.
She walks to the SUV.
I stand there, frozen and don’t move.
Not even when Angie steps out of the driver’s door.
She looks the same. Tall, slender, long dark hair, eyes a shade lighter than mine. A lot like our ma, who died when we were kids.
Then Terry climbs out of one back door, while Sherry totters out the other. They’d been six the last time I saw them. Ten now.
Twins. They still look alike, yet different in their own unique ways. His features are sharper, hers softer.
As pissed off as I am, I can’t help but fight a smile when I see ’em. They’re cute as ever, and the guilt that I’ve stayed away for so long boils in my stomach.
Standing near the SUV, Terry gives me a tentative wave.
I wave back. “Hey, sport.”
He grins. “Hi, Uncle Drake.”
No denying it’s good to see them again. It’s just...now’s a really piss-poor time for a family reunion.
The fact that the timing’s been taken out of my hands still pisses me off.
“Uncle Draaaaake!” Sherry belts out, running forward.
My insides take a tumble as I say, “Hi, Sherry-Berry.”
I kneel down on one knee. They both shoot across the lawn, into my arms.
I hug them real firm, one in each arm, close against me.
Christ. I didn’t even know how much I’d missed these kids till now.
Then there’s her. Angie stands behind them, watching as I let them go.
I get up and hold open my arms to her. Fuck it. Maybe Bella might be more right than she knows, even if I’m in no mood to tell her to her face.
Deep down, I’ve missed Angie, too.
She was my lifeline home while I’d been in the Army.
Every man in my unit loved the packages she’d send on a monthly basis, and I’d never worried about things back home because I knew she had it all under control. I smile, remembering how my buddy, Gabe, used to hound me night and day for more of that 'awesome ass cajun jerky' she’d send, as he called it.
I never had the heart to tell him that stuff had never been anywhere near New Orleans.
“Hey, big brother,” she says, coming over, hugging me tight.
I kiss the top of her head, too choked up to say a damn thing.
She gives me another tight squeeze, then steps back. “Thanks for the money, but we’d rather have you.”
I have to look away from the moisture in her eyes. My gaze meets Bella’s, and I have to look away from her too.
“Why don’t you two go in the house,” Bella says, laying a friendly hand on Terry’s shoulder and then the other on Sherry. “While I show these two the smartest horse in the world.”
“That black one over there with the white spot?” Sherry asks with excitement, bobbing up and down on her heels.
“That’s him,” Bella answers, spinning the kids around. “His name’s Edison, and he loves a good pet.”
She’s right. The kids don’t need to hear me tell Angie to go the hell home. Now.
I turn, gesturing for her to walk up the steps so I can take a stab at putting it nicely.
“I was afraid you still didn’t want to see us,” Angie says as we step inside the house. She huffs out a breath. “Damn it, Drake. You scared me. Sometimes I didn’t know if you were dead or alive.”
I walk into the living room so nothing we say can float out through the screen door. “I’ve been sending you money. Nothing would’ve come if I was six feet under. Use your head, sis.”
She snorts and smiles. “Same old attitude, I see. You sent it from some weird ass Western Union account. I seriously didn’t know whether or not I should expect a telegram next.”
I try not to smile. I’d used it so she couldn’t trace the money easily to any bank.
“I always said 'DL.' How many other Drake Larkin’s do you know?”
“Oh, please. Anybody could’ve opened an account in your name and sent me money with your initials. You had a lot of people in the Army who’d do you a favor like that. Like that nice guy from Louisiana, what was his name? Gabe! That’s it. I hope he’s happy, wherever he is.” She shakes her head. “I set up a Google alert for your name if it ever showed up in an obituary. That’s always how I thought I’d find you...”
Shit. She doesn’t say she expected the obit to be me, but it isn’t hard to read between the lines.
It also explains how she found me.
“Look, I’m sorry, Drake. I never should’ve said what I did that night after Dad went missing. I planned on being home within half an hour of when you left, but when I got to school to pick up the kids, Terry had lost one of the gloves you’d given him for Christmas on the playground. He wouldn’t leave until we found it.” She presses two fingers to the bridge of her nose. “It was just an hour. God. One damn hour before I got home. But I couldn’t let Terry think he was the reason his grandfather was missing. The reason he died...so, yeah. I was emotional. I beat you up. I pinned it all on you, like an idiot.”
I hadn’t known that, but it still doesn’t matter.
I was the one who’d left him alone.
“It’s not the right time for this. You need to go back home, Angie. When this is all over, I’ll come home to Kinsleyville and we’ll talk, sort this out.”
It comes out half mushy. For some reason, home doesn’t jibe with Montana these days.
It’s her home. Has been for years. But it doesn’t feel like mine anymore.
“When this is all over? When what’s all over?” She slaps the back of the chair next to her. “My God! You’re still looking for Winnie’s killer, aren’t you? When are you going to believe there was no killer? It was an accident. She died of hypothermia because she took her snowmobile to chase down the dealer who beat up her little brother.”
That was the story people believed, even after Winnie’s body was found. With no coat. Barefoot.
Not me. I know different. “She wouldn’t have done that, Ang. Never would’ve went off after some prick while Drew needed medical attention.”
“Why do you still have such a blind spot when it comes to her? I know you loved her, Drake. She was your best friend and a part of your life. I have two kids and the only good thing their father ever did was give me full custody when he practically booked it. Damn it, Drake, you two were nothing...were you? Just friends. I just don’t understand the obsession–”
“She had four siblings to raise. No help from anyone. No fuckin’ shoulder to cry on but mine, and what did she get for it?”
Angie shakes her head, turning away with a rough, barely muffled huff.
The anger in her eyes surprises me. “I didn’t know you hated her so bad.”
She throws her hands in the air. “I didn’t hate her. At one point, I loved her too, until...until she kept you away from your family for four damn years. Four years, Drake. You want a
nswers. Closure. I get it. But going through all this, letting it eat up your whole life? She’d have begged you to do different.”
Fury fills me. “Winnie never begged for anything. She was too proud.”
“Well, she didn’t have to when you were always there. The hero big brother she never had who’d always come running. I just wish you were mine.”
My heart sinks when she says it.
Fuck.
This argument is starting to resemble the one before I stormed out of her life forever. I twist my head and look her dead in the eye. “Sis, you’re being a bitch.”
“Maybe I am, and guess what? I don’t care. Her death kept you from your family, from moving on, from having your own life with us. You don’t have to do this. You could’ve let the cops or the FBI or somebody take charge.” She holds her palms out.
It’s hard to even fucking listen. Ang still doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand none of those jackoffs have the authority or the motivation to solve a goddamn thing. Not for Winnie.
She sniffs loudly, then looks at me and continues. “But whatever. Fine. You go right on doing what you’ve been doing. Forget the kids and I even exist, because it’s sooo obvious we don’t matter as much as Winnie did. Dad didn’t, so why should we?”
I shake my head, not even willing to respond to that shit.
“Is that oil company drilling around here now? Mars – no wait, Jupiter? Do they have a field around here that you’ve been casing, trying to find your mysterious serial killer? Is that what brought you here? Pretending to be a companion for an old man.” Shaking her head, she turns around. “You sure aren’t the brother I knew.”
I turn my back as she leaves the living room, refusing to even flinch when the screen door closes. It guts me knowing what she thinks of me now, but if it’ll make her leave, that’s how it has to be.
“Is that true?” I hear a voice behind me. Not Angie’s.
My insides freeze. Forcing my muscles to move, I turn, and see a flustered Bella standing in the kitchen doorway with a box of candy canes in her hand.
“Who’s Winnie? You’ve been lying to me this entire time?”
“It’s not true, not what she said.” Fuck, it’s so hollow even I don’t believe it.