His Brother's Fiancée

by Vivian Wood

  It was too fancy of a car for King, too. He made good money, but if Effie was used to Thorne-level money, there’s no way he could keep up. King shook his head.

  What the hell are you saying? She’s still the same girl that wrecked you.

  When she’d turned him down and he left town, he’d really gone off the deep end himself. When he was working as a fixer in L.A., he still remembered the night he’d beat a man within an inch of his life.

  Nights going up against the Mexican mob with just a gun, or the evening in that old fallout shelter with a mob boss who stroked a moustache like a movie villain, there was a part of it all that terrified King.

  There was also a part that drew him close. Getting close to Effie meant big stakes. If he lost, he didn’t know if he’d have the strength to move on again.

  There was a time, not that long ago, that King thought about killing himself. He’d talked himself into thinking everyone would be better for it. After all, it’s not like he contributed anything to anyone. All he did was take, embarrass his family, and fuck up over and over.

  You can’t take her down with you.

  King took a familiar exit and watched Effie chew at her lip in the mirror.

  No long-term planning this time, he told himself.

  All he had to do was take care of Effie until Thorne moved on. Well, Effie and her grandmother. Surely it wouldn’t take long.

  His brother got bored easily. As soon as his wounds were thoroughly licked, Thorne would be on to the next conquest.

  Easier said than done, he thought. He looked at Effie, who sat curled up in silence. What are you thinking about?

  Another song by the Supremes came on the radio and Yaya lit up beside him.

  “Oh, I just love Diana Ross,” she said. “Effie, dear, you should use a Diana Ross song in your wedding.”

  “I will, Yaya,” Effie said dutifully.

  King gripped the steering wheel. He hadn’t known what to expect when he’d gone to Effie’s house. Maybe that time had stood still.

  He tried to recall if there were any hints of her mom’s hatred of him back in the day, but there was nothing. She’d never been particularly loving, but had seemed indifferent to him.

  “My mom doesn’t have my new number,” she said suddenly from the backseat.

  “It’s probably for the best. It seems like she’s pretty tight with my brother, so I’m not too worried about her.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I can’t believe they’re working together.”

  “He’ll get bored soon enough,” he promised.

  “Maybe.” Suddenly Effie shifted in her seat. “King? Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see,” he promised, and left it at that.

  19

  Effie

  Effie picked at a cuticle in the backseat of the Jeep until it bled. She sucked at her forefinger and leaned forward to check on Yaya.

  Her grandmother stared out the window, enthralled by the mansions that flanked the wide streets. Effie looked behind her, sure a black Jaguar had been following them, but when she looked it had turned.

  “King, seriously,” she said. “We are not going to your family’s house—”

  The street was too familiar. Effie knew his family’s house was only five houses down, but King held up his hand.

  “Relax. We’re going a few houses down from my parents’, to my grandparents’ place. It’s been empty for years, but my parents like to keep it running as a guest house.”

  “How do you know that it’s empty?”

  Suddenly, King pulled into an unfamiliar driveway. A giant craftsman-style house painted white with traditional green shutters stood before them. “I don’t,” he said as he threw the Jeep into park. “Wait here.”

  “Where’s he going?” Yaya asked Effie. Effie put a comforting hand on her grandmother’s shoulder.

  “He’s just making sure the rooms are made up,” she said.

  Effie curled up into the backseat and went back to picking her cuticle. She couldn’t get over her mom’s words in the past few days.

  You’re a slut, rang through her head, insistent.

  The logical part of her knew her mother was wrong.

  Right? she wondered.

  Or maybe her mom knew her better than she realized. After all, she’d jumped from King to Thorne and back again in the span of a few years.

  Does Mom really feel that way? she wondered.

  Why say it if it wasn’t true? Maybe it was just to bully her into staying with Thorne.

  Mom’s meal ticket. No matter how Effie rolled the situation around in her head, it didn’t make sense.

  “Is this a resort?” Yaya asked.

  “I think so,” Effie said to ease her worries, but she had to admit it could have been.

  The house was massive. She’d noticed it before over the years when King and then Thorne drove her to their family’s home. It was one of the biggest houses on the street, sprawling with impeccable landscaping.

  Why hadn’t either of them mentioned it to her before? Maybe there were all kinds of things she didn’t know about either of them. Maybe this whole thing is a bad idea.

  Effie jumped as Yaya reached behind the seat and squeezed her arm. Effie put on a brave face and smiled at her grandmother.

  “Where’s your fiancé?” Yaya asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Effie said.

  Her heart started to pound. He’d been gone way too long. How much time could it take to make sure a house was empty? For all she knew, maybe Thorne had been tracking King, too. He might have been waiting outside and here she was out in the car, useless as they went at it.

  “Maybe I should go check,” she said.

  “Oh, honey, don’t worry. They have a valet, don’t they?”

  King appeared from the side of the house and waved his hand.

  Thank God, Effie thought.

  She searched his eyes and he gave her a slight nod. There was nobody in the house. He opened the car door and held out his arm for Yaya before popping the seat forward to let Effie climb out.

  “All clear?” she asked.

  “Yeah, and it seems they recently had the cleaners here, so I’m guessing we’ll have it to ourselves for awhile. “Let’s get you two inside, then I’ll put the Jeep in the garage.”

  She watched as he sweetly held her grandmother’s hand to help her up the steps. King pulled a key out from a hidden pocket of the porch swing. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about this place?” she whispered.

  He turned to her and grinned. “In high school? My grandfather was alive at that time, remember? He lived in this house with a caretaker until he died.”

  “Oh. Sorry,” she said.

  Effie had never met his grandfather. He had severe dementia even when they were in high school.

  “Don’t be,” King said as he opened the door.

  As soon as it swung open, an alarm began to scream. Yaya covered her ears while King punched a combination into the system.

  “Sorry,” he told Yaya. Effie kicked off her shoes in the entrance. He moved to a tablet mounted on the wall. As King’s fingers flew across the screen, the foyer chandelier lit up and she started to feel the radiant floors heat below her bare feet.

  King went back outside and she heard the Jeep start up.

  “Why’d you take off your shoes?” Yaya asked.

  “No reason,” she said, aware yet again of how different her life was from King’s and Thorne’s.

  Effie never took her shoes off at her mom’s place. There was no point.

  “You ladies ready?” King asked. He closed the front door behind them and engaged all of the various locks. “Let me show you around.”

  As they made their way through the house, lights continued to flicker on. Effie tried to act unimpressed, but this house was even more decadent than his parents’.

  She led the way as King escorted her grandmother behind her. The details of the house were incredible, from the intricate cr
own moulding to the wainscoating and non-stop chandeliers.

  It was more luxurious than it appeared from the outside. Effie recalled reading an article about how some extremely wealthy people did that. They thought it might help deter burglars and overeager tax auditors.

  They passed the entrance to a chef’s kitchen with a short but well-equipped butler’s pantry. Effie peeked inside briefly and saw the stretches of concrete slabs and stainless steel appliances with intricate knobs.

  The generous hallway opened up into a greatroom with a soaring ceiling. Floor to ceiling windows framed the room with exposed beams overhead. A marble wall shot to the ceiling with a gas fireplace as the feature.

  It was like the cabin on steroids. Everywhere she looked, she saw wealth. There were trinkets and works of art featured in various cabinets. Effie caught her breath as she caught sight of a familiar little black book.

  “Is this a first edition?” she asked and pointed to The Story of O.

  “I dunno, probably,” King said.

  “Do you… do you know what this is?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Not really. My grandparents collected all kinds of books.”

  In the great room, a portrait of King and Thorne, his parents, and his grandparents were prominently featured. Yaya immediately moved towards the portrait, enthralled.

  “So handsome,” she said as she touched King’s picture.

  Yaya completely ignored Thorne’s photo. Effie thought she saw King turn slightly pink, but she couldn’t be certain.

  The trio continued into the house at Yaya’s pace. King tried to usher her past the theater room, but Yaya was drawn to it. The plush leather recliners, vintage popcorn machine, and massive eighty-inch screen made her widen her eyes in awe.

  “Are we at the cinema?” she asked.

  “Come on, Yaya,” Effie said, and touched her elbow. “This way.”

  King brought Yaya to the master suite on the ground floor.

  “There’s only one bedroom on this floor. She can avoid the stairs,” he said. “Yaya, this is your room,” he said. “Let me show you where your bathroom is.”

  Effie put Yaya’s suitcase on the king-sized bed and began to unpack for her. From the corner of her eye, she watched as King showed Yaya the huge bathroom. She listened as he explained how to turn the water on.

  “What’s this contraption?” she heard Yaya ask.

  “It’s a bidet. Don’t worry about it, I’ll unplug it.”

  “I know what a bidet is,” Yaya said and Effie smiled.

  “You have a television in your room, too. Let me show you.”

  King brought her back into the bathroom and picked up a small remote. A flatscreen emerged from the ceiling and Yaya’s mouth dropped open.

  “Do you have a favorite show? Or channel?” he asked.

  “I like that Seinfeld show. Those New Yorkers.”

  King flipped through the Sling television selection to the full seasons of Seinfeld. As he started the pilot episode, Effie helped Yaya into the loveseat beside the bed. Her grandmother was instantly absorbed.

  “Do you need anything, Yaya?” she asked. “Water? Are you hungry?”

  “Oh, no, Clem. I’m just fine here. Are you going to work?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Effie said. “I’ll be back soon.”

  With a sigh, she followed King into the hallway. “I hope she’ll be okay.”

  “She’s fine,” he said. “That was my grandfather’s room in his last years. There’s still an intercom system built in there. It’s basically an upgraded baby monitor. I’ll tune into it and we’ll know if she needs anything.”

  Effie was exhausted, her mother’s words still in her ear. But the house was so huge, she had to explore. She made her way upstairs and poked her head into each room. At the end of the hallway, a mahogany bar filled with top shelf liquor glistened.

  When she peeked into the last bedroom and saw the California king with fluffy white comforters, she called out, “This is mine!”

  She looked behind her shoulder and saw King as he raided the bar.

  “Drink?” he asked. He pulled out a martini shaker and opened the bottle of Tanqueray.

  “God, yes,” she said. Effie leaned against the thick wood wrapping of the doorframe and watched as he expertly stirred the gin with a long silver spoon.

  “Thanks,” she said with a sigh as he handed her the delicate glass.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. King held out his glass to hers to toast.

  “It’s… nothing, really. Just, you know… this is all too much.” Effie took a sip of the strong, chilled cocktail. It went immediately to her head and she realized she hadn’t ate at all that day.

  “Too much? What do you mean?”

  “I—sorry. I meant to say temporary. I mean, it’s a great place to hide away from the world, but what happens after that?”

  She shook her head and looked into the bedroom. It was dark and inviting. It reminded her a bit of the cabin.

  “I hadn’t really gotten that far,” King admitted. “I wasn’t… well, I wasn’t expecting this. Not that I mind,” he said quickly. “There was no way your grandmother could stay with your mom.”

  “Not to mention, this whole thing is insane,” Effie said quietly.

  They clamped their mouths shut as the monitor by the bar crackled, but it quickly went back to silence.

  “What’s insane?” he asked.

  “This!” she said, and gestured around. “All of it. A week ago, I knew what my life was, where it was going. It wasn’t great, but it was mine. Now? Your brother cheated on me, I slept with you.” She dropped her gaze at that, but kept going. “I’ve lost my job. And now my Yaya is watching TV while we hide out in a strange house. What am I doing?”

  King tensed up. Effie thought maybe she’d gone too far, but what did he expect?

  “I’m doing what I can,” he said finally.

  “I know. I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to criticize. I just need a plan.”

  King looked at her as he sipped his drink. He leaned against the bar and ran his hand along the slick surface. Finally, he pushed himself upright.

  “It’s been a long day,” he said. “I’m going to bed.”

  Effie thought he’d walk down the hall, but instead he turned and went into the room she’d picked out. She watched his back and cocked her head.

  Was that an invitation? She could never tell with King.

  Effie drained the last of her drink and padded back down the hall to check on Yaya. Her grandmother had made her way to the bed and snored loudly while the laugh track on the television erupted.

  Effie pulled the heavy quilt at the foot of the bed over her grandmother. Yaya shifted slightly, but was deep in slumber. Effie turned off the television and watched her Yaya in deep slumber.

  Outside, the sun had dipped below the horizon. She didn’t know what time it was, but the day had taken it out of her.

  Effie knew she should find another bedroom. The last thing she needed was intertwining herself even more with King, especially now and with her grandmother downstairs.

  With a sigh, Effie turned to leave. It didn’t matter that she knew what was good for her. She wanted King more, and this might be one of her last chances. After all, he’d said he’d take care of her only until the whole thing with Thorne blew over.

  She made her way down the hall silently.

  That’s what he meant, didn’t he? she wondered.

  It had to be. Besides, what was so strange about staying in one of his parents’ homes instead of at a hotel? He seemed pretty confident that nobody would find them.

  Effie took a deep breath outside the darkened bedroom. She slipped inside and closed the door with a click.

  20

  King

  King rolled over in bed when he heard Effie enter the bedroom. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “This, whatever it is between you and me? This is the only thing I’m sure about right no
w.”

  King’s eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the dark. He felt Effie crawl into bed beside him. Everything about the situation screamed STOP, but he couldn’t resist her.

  It was the same bedroom he stayed in when he was a child. His parents would sleep across the hallway and Thorne just next door. King didn’t think such circumstances would thrill him, but they did. He rolled towards her as he felt her hand across his chest.

  “This was my childhood bedroom when we visited,” he murmured.

  “Oh.” Effie froze. He could see the outline of her face lit by the moon.

  “It’s okay,” he said. King tilted her face upwards and kissed her lightly. “Just don’t wake my parents. Or my brother. They’re right down the hall.”

  He could make out her smile as he lifted her shirt overhead and trapped her arms in the sleeves. King trailed his tongue from her lips to he jaw. Effie squirmed beneath him.

  He kissed his way to her bare breasts and caught a nipple in his mouth. When he sucked just slightly too hard, she pulled breath in from between her teeth.

  “Don’t you dare make a sound,” he whispered. “That’s what you get for walking around like this. Showing off this incredible body for the world to see. Don’t you know it’s mine?”

  Effie spread her legs wider in response. Her skirt inched up and he felt the heat, the wetness, even from beneath her underwear as it pressed against his abdomen.

  King released her hands and worked his way downward. He let her keep on the skirt that had rode to her waist and gripped the lavender cotton underwear in his hand.

  With a squeeze, he made it ride into a thin slit that pressed against her clit. Effie pushed her heels into the mattress and pressed her groin upward. It only required little squeezes of the cotton from King to make her start fucking the material.

  When Effie reached a quick rhythm, King released the underwear.

  “Why’d you stop?” she asked as she rose onto her elbows.

  He clapped his palm against her swollen clit once, smartly, through the drenched material.