by Lissa Kasey
“DNA test proves Kade is Howard’s kid,” I pointed out.
“Oh, yes. Of that there is no doubt. It’s actually Ashlyn who is the odd one out. She is actually Crystal’s child, my mom’s sister. I believe she targeted you, Kade, for several reasons. First, you don’t look like any of us.”
“Because I look like Mom.”
“Yes. And because you were so close in age to her. Then you were a quiet kid, probably because you knew very young that you’re gay. I think Dad caught you hugging another boy when you were ten or so? I don’t even remember the guy’s name. His family moved out of Carlsbad shortly after. I’m pretty sure Dad threatened them.”
“And that’s when I became the monster of the family,” Kade said. “I don’t remember anything before my first kiss with Jonathan, and I was like thirteen or so for that one.”
“Jonathan was such a jerk. He was stringing both you and Madison along but told everyone I was his girlfriend. By then Ashlyn had already been kicked out of school twice for attacking other kids. I never understood it, though I know now that Crystal had the same issue growing up. Which was why she lived with mom and dad. They had her under constant supervision.”
Several things fell into place at once. “That’s why the mother’s name wasn’t on Ashlyn’s birth certificate. Howard is still her father….” That was wrong in so many ways.
“I don’t know all the details, but yes, Ashlyn is Dad and Crystal’s. Crystal committed suicide shortly after Ashlyn was born. Possibly postpartum related, though back then that wasn’t as heard of as it is now. I know she had pretty severe depression as well as her bipolar disorder. I’m sure there was more to it; however, mental healthcare wasn’t as comprehensive thirty plus years ago as it is today.”
So if there had been something not on par with a birth in the Almantey family, it was Ashlyn’s past, not Kade’s. She had focused on him simply because he’d already had a target placed on his back by his father for being gay, and he just didn’t look like the rest of them. It made me so mad.
“Do we know what’s wrong with Ashlyn yet?” Kade asked.
“Her psychiatrist is still sorting through a diagnosis. It will take some time. There’s enough evidence to prove she’s got major mental issues, which is why she’s here instead of jail. But the list of stuff she might have is long. Bipolar disorder, depression, multiple personalities, dissociative disorder, schizophrenia… the list goes on and on. But she’s getting help here and won’t be leaving anytime soon, no matter who Dad pays off.”
That was the best news I’d heard in a while.
“Anyway. Brent is gonna show you guys to the observation room. I’ll be talking to Ashlyn. You should be able to hear.” She left us with her hulking husband, who offered to carry me when he noticed I was limping.
“No, thank you,” I told him firmly.
“You can carry me if you’d like,” Kade teased him. “Pretty sure you can bench both of us with your pinky.”
Brent grinned a spread of huge and very white teeth, then swept Kade off his feet. All three of us were laughing like banshees by the time we got to the observation room. The sight through the glass sobered the room quickly. Brent took a chair, but Kade went up to the window, and I stood beside him.
The room beyond the glass was a posh sitting room, though there was no missing that it lacked a lot of the normal graces of a real home, as there was nothing but furniture. Everything appeared to be bolted down. The tables, the sofas and chairs, even the window had very elegant looking bars on it. It was the highest-end prison I’d ever seen. Home to the rich and criminally insane.
Ashlyn looked small. She wore a gray gown, shapeless, and likely durable. Her face was bare of makeup, her hair brushed back into a severe bun. She sat with her legs crossed at the ankle, hands in her lap, shoulders relaxed. She could have been waiting for someone to sit down and have tea with her for all the ease she portrayed.
When Peyton entered the room, Ashlyn rewarded her with a glowing smile but didn’t move from the couch. Peyton sat across from her. She’d stripped off her shoes and socks. I wondered if that was a security measure.
“Hey, peanut.” Peyton reached out and took one of Ashlyn’s hands. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, Peyton, I’m so ready to go home. Do you see what they make me wear? I don’t even understand why I’m here.”
“You’re here because you tried to hurt Oliver Petroskovic,” Peyton reminded her. “When he was in the hospital.”
“That wasn’t me,” she protested. “He’s a beautiful boy.” She looked away. “Boys shouldn’t be that pretty.”
“Who hurt him, then, Ash?” Peyton prompted, obviously trying to keep her focused.
Ashlyn’s face contorted with rage. “You know. You know. You know. I’ve told you before what a monster he is.”
“Who, peanut?”
“Kade. It’s always been Kade. Everyone loves Kade. He’s so damn perfect. But he’s not. I proved it to Dad. Gave him a list.”
“A list of things Kade did?” Peyton asked.
I squeezed Kade’s hand. The list Ashlyn had given me, she’d created. I wondered how much their father had believed. Kade’s expression had shut down, and his shoulders were stiff. His whole life he’d been blamed and treated like a devil, all because he looked like his mother instead of his father.
“Yes. Like the pretty boy. He beat him. Tried to cover it up. This time he tried to kill him, and now he’s blaming me. Don’t you see, Peyton? He’s a monster. If it weren’t for him, Mom would love me. She wouldn’t have pushed me away.”
Kade turned toward the door.
I tugged at his hand. “Where are you going?”
“I want to talk to her.”
“No,” I begged him.
“It’s not fair, Ollie. I don’t understand….”
Brent moved in front of the door and blocked it. He was a wall of muscle and willpower. “Can’t let you. Sorry.”
Kade glared at him, but there was no way even Kade could take down a man of Brent’s size. And we’d had to leave the Tasers and the stun gun in the car. “But maybe if I talk to her….”
“She’ll go nuts,” Brent said. He glanced up, and I looked back to find Peyton leaving the room. Ashlyn was back to sitting like the perfect little princess waiting for tea to be brought to her.
Peyton entered the observation room and patted Brent on the arm.
“Can I talk to her? Anything?” Kade asked.
Peyton pressed the speaker button on the wall near the window. “Ash, sweetie, would you like to speak to one of your brothers?” She flicked a warning glance Kade’s way, then hit the button to call for orderlies.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” Kade said, watching two burly men in uniform enter the sitting room. Ashlyn ignored them.
“Ashlyn is hurting herself. You’ve become this mythical demon in her head. She’s got elaborate stories for everything. Horrific stories.” She must have been thinking of Peaches and all the other animals killed. Peyton stepped away from the speaker functions, and Kade moved close enough to press the button.
“Ashlyn?” Kade said. “Is it okay if I come talk to you?”
The reaction was instantaneous and terrifying. Ashlyn’s face contorted with rage, and she was up, rushing the observation mirror, ready to pummel it to get to Kade. “You monster!” she screamed.
The orderlies had her before she could reach the mirror, but she fought them, wild and manic, legs flailing, strength making even the two large men struggle to hold her. I wrapped my arms around Kade, trying to comfort him. A nurse ended up coming in and injecting Ashlyn with something. In seconds she turned limp and was carried from the room.
“I didn’t…,” Kade began but stopped. I knew his heart was breaking, and the thoughts that ran through his head were trying to puzzle out just how his baby sister could hate him so much.
“It’s not your fault,” Peyton told him. “It could have been any of us. You were jus
t an easy target.”
His father had made him a target because he refused to toe the line and fall into submission to his father’s will. I knew it had to hurt. Even now, at nearly thirty-five, Kade had hoped for a chance to be loved by his family. It was a need ingrained in us all by society. I hated the warring emotions I knew rose in him. I was his family.
I rested my chin on his shoulder and held him from behind as he stood stiffly, staring at the empty room. “I love you,” I reminded him.
He let out a long breath and tilted his head to lean his against mine. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I DECIDED on the ride home to prod Kade about the contract his father had offered him.
“No,” he said firmly.
“No, what?”
“I’m not interested. He could offer up Emma, and I’d still say no.” Emma, a very famous actress, was the one girl on his “if I ever met them on the street one day I would sleep with them” list.
“Why do you think he did?”
“Control. It all comes down to control with him.”
“Peyton married someone really rich. Maybe he just wants you to be with someone more financially sound than me.” The woman on Kade’s contract had a sizable net worth and a couple of homes in other countries.
“I seriously doubt it’s your lack of financial legacy that he doesn’t approve of.”
“It’s my penis?” I asked bluntly. “He’s never even seen it. He shouldn’t judge.”
Kade laughed. “I’m fond of your penis.”
“Do you think showing it to your dad would prove I’m worthy?”
Kade choked and howled with laughter. “Fuck, Ollie. Geez. I’m trying to drive here. And no, I don’t think you should show my dad your dick. That’s weird, and your dick is all mine.”
I shrugged. “I just thought if he was so obsessed with you getting married.”
“Soon,” Kade vowed.
I looked at him and tried to keep my heart from speeding up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
We sat in silence the rest of the way home. It was a weekday. Kade could have taken us to the office, but Steven and James were working full-time. Tomas was running the contract end of things, and Sophia was training in scheduling and background check review. So if Kade and I showed up in the office, there was really nothing for us to do. Haven was busy and running like a well-oiled machine. Kade had bought two new foreclosure properties and was working on repairing and upgrading them on the weekends. Micah was helping. So far Kade hadn’t said much about his relationship with his son, but I was hopeful they’d become close.
I was sketching designs. Jacob had bought one of his weird Asian dolls and wanted me to design clothes for it. It gave me something to do while I healed, though my agent had mentioned an indie designer that thought my look might be perfect for their line. I was waiting for a snippet of their portfolio to come through before I accepted. Even that would be pushed out a few weeks.
So home it was, where I was sure Kade would insist I take another nap. As long as he napped with me, that was fine.
There was a note on the door from the garage to the house written in Jacob’s rock-star scrawl. I squinted at it, trying to make out the words. “Box arrived from co….”
Kade looked over my shoulder. “Consignment shop,” he said. “Box on your dresser. The cat was chewing on it.” He laughed.
We made our way inside to find the house empty except for the cat, who was playing in what appeared to be cardboard chips, likely off the box the consignment shop had sent me. His food and water bowls looked like something had run through them at warp speed, and there was a pair of my underwear on the rug in the living room. I sighed.
“He’s a destructive force of nature.”
I grunted, retrieved my underwear, and headed slowly up the main stair to our room. The package was huge. And much like a kid at Christmas time, I had to open it right away.
“What did you order?” Kade asked.
“Nothing. They just send me stuff on my wish list. Certain styles, or pieces that someone brings in or they find at estate auctions. That’s where I got the white eyelet dress I love so much.” I opened the top two drawers on my side of the dresser, looking for something to cut the tape on the box. One drawer displayed all my underwear—neatly folded and arranged by type and color only because Kade liked to be able to find whatever pair he wanted to see me in quickly—but no letter opener or anything. The other had become a junk drawer that also now held Nathan’s computer, an envelope full of pictures, and a stack of what looked like military orders. I’d only glanced through it after Jacob had left me the stack. Nathan’s Swiss Army knife was in the top drawer with his stuff. I used it to open the box, squealing in delight at the treasure box of fabric.
None of it was my size, but there was another vintage wedding dress, several skirts with interesting patterns, a handful of tops, and four pairs of jeans of varying shades of denim, one even pink, with the most adorable pockets. Those would become either a pair of shorts, or a nice little skirt.
Kade had picked up the envelope of pictures in Nathan’s drawer and was flipping through them. He held one up. It was of him and Nathan, in uniform, and both looking very young. I took the picture and smiled at it: Kade with no beard. Wow. “You really do look twelve.”
“Brat,” he said.
I flipped the picture over. On the back, both of their names were listed along with the location, month, and year. This had been taken not long after Kade had joined. He’d been in maybe two years? No wonder he looked so young.
Kade paused on a picture, confusion on his face.
“What?”
He turned the picture toward me. It was a picture of Nathan in his dress blues, with an unknown woman dressed in what looked like a wedding dress. Again on the back was a set of names and the date. Nathan and Diana.
“Why wouldn’t he have had either of us there?” Kade asked. “He looks happy in the picture. At least as happy as he ever did.” And Nathan was smiling, his expression unguarded. How different he looked, young and alive, untroubled. I couldn’t remember him smiling much in the last few years of his life, or laughing at all. He’d been professional, almost aloof, and rarely shared emotion with anyone.
My heart ached suddenly with how much I missed him.
Most of the pictures were of Nathan and Kade or Kade and a few other soldiers or of just Kade. How odd. “It’s like he was crushing on you too,” I remarked. “There is one every month for like the entire time you served together.” And for each time he came home. I was in some of those pictures, a gangly, skinny boy.
Something about this was off. Not just that my brother was married and never told me, his own brother, or Kade, who had been his best friend. The methodical way Nathan seemed to document Kade’s life was reminiscent of a stalker, or a really good investigator. But why?
Kade took the stack of military paperwork out of the drawer and began riffling through it. Some of it was paperwork for the GI Bill he’d used to get his PI license. Some were old statements of commendations. His discharge papers. And a familiar-looking contract. A marriage contract. Behind it was a privacy disclosure form, and copies of several paid bills, including for the tuition of my very expensive private school.
I began to read it over Kade’s shoulder, but he folded it in half and shoved the rest of the papers back in the drawer. “Kade?” I wanted him to explain it to me. Help me understand. Stop my heart from being ripped from my chest. I reached for him.
“Don’t, Ollie. Just give me a minute to process.” He seemed to be processing too. Puzzling out answers to possible scenarios.
“Kade,” I whispered. “Was my brother…?” Had my brother betrayed Kade? Taken money from his father to keep tabs on him? And worse, had Nathan used that money, and maybe power, to provide for me? “How could he? He wouldn’t, would he?”
Kade pulled me into his arms, hugging me tight and burying his
face in my neck as we both faced the possibility that Nathan had just been another pawn thrown into Kade’s life to keep him in line.
More from Lissa Kasey
Haven Investigations: Book One
Oliver “Ollie” Petroskovic’s life as an international supermodel was heading in the right direction. He worked part-time for his brother at his detective agency—Petroskovic Haven Investigations—and had just bought his dream house. But all that changed when he found his brother dead, a victim of PTSD-induced suicide.
Almost a year later, Ollie is trying to keep his brother’s business afloat, but can’t get his PI license. Then his brother’s best friend, Kade Alme, shows up, fresh from the battlefield after a close brush with death. Kade is looking for a new life, in more ways than one, and with PI license in hand, he’s exactly what Ollie needs to keep PHI running.
When one of Ollie’s childhood friends gets in trouble, Ollie feels he has to help. Kade insists on investigating if only to keep Ollie safe. Neither realizes the danger they’re in as someone tries to tear them apart before they can find solid ground together.
Sequel to Model Citizen
Haven Investigations: Book Two
Things are going well for androgynous model Ollie Petroskovic, ex-Marine Kade Alme, and their business, Haven Investigations, until rock star Jacob Elias shows up in need of their services… and trouble follows.
Jacob is a playboy with a serious penchant for kink, slaves, and sex toys. He’s also Ollie’s ex—and all that implies. With the media exploiting his personal life, a stalker sending blood-soaked “gifts,” a bumbling security team, and a family he can’t trust as far as he could throw them, Jacob is in desperate need of a bodyguard for his latest tour, and Kade can’t refuse.
While Kade deals with new doubts about his partnership with Ollie and struggles with reminders of his war injuries, Jacob’s stalker escalates from blackmail and threats to murder. As Kade and Ollie work to keep Jacob safe and find the culprit behind the attack, a web of family secrets, lies, and abuse slowly emerges, leading up to a final confrontation that they might not walk away from—and that will have lasting repercussions for Kade and his relationship with Ollie.