Vested Interest

by Bethany Jadin

  Blinker on, I take a left-hand turn, following the moving truck to Zoey and I’s new apartment. I’m doing my best to retain my cautious approach to this whole situation, but Zoey is landing squarely in favor of the guys.

  “I mean, dang, Emma. I know you told me they were hot, but—” she places the back of her hand on her forehead and pretends to faint against the window in the passenger’s seat.

  “Yeah, they’re gorgeous. Every last one of them.”

  Zoey gives me a crafty look. “You have a nice little thing going on here, Ms. Collins. Five hot guys at your bidding.”

  “It’s really not like that. Despite what’s been happening in my imagination.”

  She gives me a devilish grin. “I dunno. I think you should take your pick and toss me the rest.”

  “Ha! Remember the last time I let myself fall for a hot tech guy?”

  She straightens. “Jackass Jeremy is so not the situation here. I get a really good vibe from all of these guys. They remind me of Don and David from college — remember, the basketball teammates?”

  Oh, Lord, I haven’t thought of them in ages. “The Double Ds? The ones you disappeared with at the Phi Beta Christmas party — for how long?”

  Zoey faints against the window again, but this time, she’s not pretending. “Best three hours of my life.”

  Keeping my eyes on the big box truck in front of me, I laugh and shake my head. “You’ve had the best luck. That kind of thing doesn’t happen to me.”

  Her head still leaning against the window, Zoey turns to me. “Oh really? I saw Trigg eyeballing you, and he wasn’t the only one. Mr. Beefcake Boss, Jude? He was tending to your every need.”

  “He was just being organized and thorough. That seems to be his thing. Plus, he was helping both of us.”

  “Yeah, well he was practically hovering over you, babe. And I could take some of that sexy muscle-man action from Gunner, but his attention was all on the Foxy Lady.”

  I laugh at Gunner’s new silly nickname for me. “He’s just like that. Gunner enjoys making everyone laugh.”

  “Sounds like it isn’t the only thing he likes doing. And that goes for Trigg, too.”

  I feel the heat of a blush and tuck my lips, mashing them together. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about the club.”

  “Are you kidding me? I need to know this stuff, Emma. I work too much to have a sex life now. My wild college days are over, so I need to live through you.”

  “Oh, God, now I really feel sorry for you.” I barely get it out around my laughter. “I don’t have a sex life, either, and Trigg getting a little handsy under the table really doesn’t count.”

  “But the kiss?” she prods.

  I fidget in my seat and hit the right blinker this time. I notice we’re near the sprawling City Center Complex, right in the wealthiest part of the city. I figured the apartment would be at a campus-style building near the tech hubs that have sprung up beside the university — not in a swanky Uptown high rise.

  “I really have to stop telling you all this.” I give Zoey a look after I follow the box truck through a right onto Madison Avenue.

  I told her about the vibes I was getting from the guys while we were at the club, and Trigg’s amazing kiss after he brought by the paperwork, but I’ve decided to keep the sweaty, sexy dreams I’ve been having at night to myself. Zoey’s already writing a steamy story in her head about me and the guys — if she knew the salacious things playing out in my imagination, she’d never shut up about it.

  Zoey rocks forward and grabs my arm. “No! You need to tell me all about it. Maybe we can have Trigg and Gunner over for dinner, and you know, I’ll get a headache... duck out to bed early...”

  “Don’t even think about it,” I warn. “Besides, I know we’re moving and everything, but I’m not a hundred percent about all of this. It feels too convenient.”

  My roommate simmers down. She’s already conceded I may not be completely paranoid on this matter. “Remember, this is just a temporary situation. You can get the bank fiasco all figured out, maybe recover some funds.”

  “Definitely recover some funds,” I correct, making a left onto Linden Circle. Modern meets historic as we ease down the street between the bustling skyscrapers and impressive 19th century buildings. A wall of glittering glass on our left, Georgian columns and marble facades on the right.

  “Yes, definitely recover some funds,” she agrees. “You can cut back on your schedule at the hospital and use the extra time to work on your code. I can put my usual half of the rent toward student loans.”

  “God, mine are still in deferment. I don’t think I’m ever going to pay them off.”

  “Work on that Gamma segment do-hickey, figure it out, sell the damn thing, and we’ll be on the beach with hot manservants before you know it.

  I take a deep, centering breath. “Keep my eyes on the prize. Cabana boys for the win.”

  We approach a high rise with orange safety cones out front, reserving a space for us. A team of guys in blue overalls step out and wave the moving truck into the area that has been portioned off right in front of the building, then they wave me in behind the truck.

  “Whoa, valet moving service,” Zoey says. “I like it.”

  I put the car into park, watching as the moving team opens the back of the truck holding all our possessions. They roll the ramp out and get right to work.

  “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get out and help, or at least figure out where we’re supposed to park.”

  The guys appear around the side of the moving truck as I swing the car door shut, and Jax is right by my side within seconds. “I can move that into the parking garage if you want to get the moving team sorted on where to put stuff.”

  “Oh. Sure.” It feels odd, but I hand over my keys. “Where will it be parked?”

  “Level one, number six, right next to all of ours. The spot is reserved for you, so go ahead and use it from now on. If you’d rather not bother with the parking garage, you can just pull up here, and a valet can take care of your car for you.”

  Zoey elbows my ribs discreetly, but I ignore her. “Thank you, Jax. That’s very kind of you.”

  “My pleasure.” And like that, he’s in my car and shifting into reverse.

  Jude strides forward, and I’m again struck by how much the twins look alike and yet so different. “Ready to head up to your new apartment?”

  “Yeah.” Eagerness to check out my new digs is taking hold. “Let me grab a box.”

  “No you don’t.” Jude extends a big arm, barring me from heading up the ramp. “You’ve done enough work today. Let the team handle the rest.”

  Daniel steps around Jude. “Here, carry this instead.”

  I accept a potted plant from him, only the plant is pretty barren. “What’s this?” I ask.

  “An orchid,” he says. “Everyone is supposed to have a plant in their new home. It’s tradition.”

  I’ve never received a housewarming gift before. “It’s lovely,” I say reflexively, even though it’s a pot of dirt and what looks like a dead plant.

  “You are exceedingly polite, Emma,” Daniel says with a gracious smile. “It’s certainly not lovely right now. But it will be. It’s not in bloom yet, but you don’t have to put it right in front of a window. It can go wherever you like it best.”

  “Thank you.” Seems like I’m saying that a lot today.

  Trigg steps alongside me and extends his elbow. “May I escort the lady inside?”

  “The foxy lady,” Gunner hollers as he passes by with a high stack of boxes.

  I take Trigg’s arm, orchid in hand, and let him guide me through the massive rotating doors. Zoey gives me her all-knowing smirk, and I send her back my shut-up eyeroll. I give my shoulders a little roll as well, willing myself to relax. After all, it’s nice for once — to be taken care of.

  16

  Trigg

  It all needs to go.

  The big, mahogany conference table, t
he designer shelving housing the collectibles Daniel and Jax have brought in over the years. The artwork on the walls, the chairs, even the wet bar. None of it was here that first night.

  Jude offered to have the moving company that just transported the ladies’ stuff to their new apartment earlier today come here and empty the room for us, but just like the previous times when he tried to hire it out, I turned him down. We didn’t hire a moving company five years ago, and we won’t have one tonight. Five years in this office. God, it’s moments like this that reminds me how quickly time passes.

  I remove the last bolt from the table and set down the socket wrench then crawl from under the table. “Got it?”

  Gunner steadies the top. “Yup. Just help me tip it onto the blankets.”

  I get a good grip on it, because Christ, this top has to weigh six hundred pounds. We lay it on its side without any slip and crash, and Gunner gives me a thumbs up. Leaning his bulk into it, he pushes the top toward the door, and I head for the nearest shelf with my socket set. That guy is a machine, giving one-hundred percent until the job is done. He probably moved half of our equipment himself when we’d packed up our strip mall rent-a-space offices and opened our headquarters here. That was back before we had much. No employees, just us guys.

  The first time we gathered in this room, we’d sold our first major software line just a few weeks earlier. Immediately after closing on the eight-figure deal, we’d purchased two floors for Pentabyte in this high-rise. The second thing we did was buy our penthouses.

  I would say that Gunner and I moved in together, but really, he moved us in while I just stood there at the doorway, pointing to where things should go, hobbled by a full leg cast running all the way up to my hip from the latest round of surgery.

  “That’s more books for my office.”

  “Goddamn, Trigg. How many books do you have? You know all these can fit on your phone now?” Gunner, just shy of his mid-twenties, is full of robust energy.

  He’s only joking, but I still take it to heart. “It’s killing me, not being able to help.”

  Gunner grunts, hefting the box onto his shoulder. “You’ve done more than your part. Besides, I’ve missed the gym twice this week. I need this.” He pats his bicep as it bulges under the strain of the heavy books. “Gotta keep the guns strong.”

  I find a butter knife in one of the kitchen boxes sitting just inside the door and maneuver it down inside my cast, trying to get at the itch that’s been bothering me all day. “I hate this thing,” I say loud enough for him to hear. “I’m going to have a little chicken leg by the time I get it off.”

  Gunner reemerges from our den-turned-home-office and points at me. “Hey, let that thing heal. Doctor said if you keep walking around on it like that instead of using your crutches, it’s going to take longer.”

  I let out a sigh of relief, finally getting the knife down far enough. “Well, it fucking sucks. I can’t drive. I can’t sit on the toilet like a normal human being. And I can’t carry my own boxes from the elevator to my room.”

  Gunner retrieves one of the said boxes from the elevator. “Dude. You practically got blown to bits by an RPG. You’re lucky to be alive. Now, what about this one?”

  I inspect the box in his hands. “My bathroom, thanks.”

  The elevator chimes the door-closing alarm, probably being recalled by the elderly couple who lives in the fifth penthouse. The original plan was for us to each get our own place, but one got snapped up before we submitted our offer. But that’s alright. Gunner and I ate, slept, and fought side-by-side for years in the military. It seems fitting that we’d share a place. Gunner and I have gone from military bunkmates to penthouse roommates. We may be starting our civilian lives, but I’m glad some things don’t change.

  I curse, tossing the knife I’ve been scratching with, and wobble toward the elevator as though I could ever catch it in time.

  I’d been proudly serving with Jude for several years when Gunner joined our team. I’d never bonded with anyone so quickly. The three of us managed to be transferred together and assigned to the same unit for the rest of our time in the service together. It’s why I couldn’t leave them or any of the other guys in that ambush, even though Jude ordered me to vacate my sniper’s nest and find shelter.

  “Crutches, dumbass!” Gunner yells after me when he sees me hobbling across the outer foyer. “I swear, half the reason I’m moving in with you is to make sure you don’t kill yourself before you get that cast off.”

  Too late, the elevator doors slide shut. I pivot toward him. “No, I’m the one moving in with you. Someone needs to make sure you don’t eat the entire menu of that pizza place every week.”

  He lights up. “Hey, did you order Two Tony’s?”

  “I got us a couple triple meat supremes.”

  He looks panicked. “That’s it?”

  “And a double order of those cheesy breadsticks with the garlic marinara.”

  The big guy raises an eyebrow of concern. Ever since I mentioned that we should start eating healthier, he’s been convinced I’m going to starve him to death.

  “And a pan of their Alfredo chicken pasta. Plus, some of those cannoli’s you like.”

  “God bless you.”

  Gunner takes my face in both hands, kissing one cheek then the other.

  “What the fuck did I just walk in on?” Jude stands in the entryway, a wry smile on his lips.

  Gunner comes back in for a third and fourth kiss, making loud kissing noises, getting me to laugh, despite my otherwise foul mood at being stuck in a cast on moving day. He gives me a light tap on the ass, nowhere near his usual hard smack. He hasn’t given me one of his trademark full-palm, cheek stinging slaps since my leg was shattered.

  “Hey, boss.” A big teddy bear at heart, Gunner walks over and wraps his massive arms around Jude, laying a big hug on the chief. “You moving into your penthouse today, too?”

  “Maybe, if someone didn’t have a couch in the elevator.”

  “Shit. Let me get that out.”

  “Hold on, Gunner. I came by to bring this.” Jude fishes a large, black ring box out of his pocket.

  Gunner smiles wide. “Damn, boss. Didn’t know you swung that way. But yes — yes, I will.” He leans back and takes an appraising glance at Jude’s ass. “Can’t wait for our honeymoon, you big tiger,” he says with a wink, blowing a kiss in his direction.

  Jude cuffs the big guy over the ear. “Keep it in your pants for a second, dammit. I’m trying to do something here.” He clears his throat, and his tone grows serious as he shifts the box from hand to hand. “It’s the one for Trigg.”

  “Ohhh. How’d it come out?” Gunner steps toward him for a closer look, but Jude plants his palm in the center of the younger man’s chest, holding him at arm’s length, extending the box out to me.

  I look back and forth between them. “What’s this?”

  His voice is raw with pent-up emotion — something I rarely hear from Jude. “There’s nothing a man can do to repay what you did for us. You should’ve high-tailed your ass out of that fire zone when I told you to.”

  I’d heard the reprimand many times, and my answer is always the same. “You know I couldn’t leave you down there like that.”

  Jude nods. “I know.” He clenches his teeth, but the muscles of his jaw are working, his cheeks sucking in as he swallows hard. His eyes fall to the floor, unwilling for me to see the emotion welling there. “You didn’t have to do that for us. But since you’re fucking terrible at following goddamn orders, Gunner and I had this made for you. Here, take the damn thing.” He pushes the box into my hands.

  “I love you, too, chief.”

  “Don’t be an asshole. Just open the box.”

  I spin the ring around my pinky. It hasn’t left my finger in five years. These days, we can afford to buy one another million-dollar cars if we wanted, but I wear the best gift any of us has ever received. It’ll never leave my hand for as long as I live. It doesn
’t just symbolize the hell we went through that day — or the hard road to recovery afterward. It represents my brotherhood. My family.

  Foster care wasn’t a warm and happy childhood. I bounced from home to home growing up, never finding a place to belong. I convinced my guardian to let me sign up for the Marine Corps when I was seventeen, and the military proceeded to bounce me from state to state. But it was different. There’s a consistent rhythm to the military, and a bond with my fellow marines that I’d never had before. We fought, and sometimes we died together. As tough as it was, I needed that. But after the ambush, the doctors said my leg would never be the same, and the military said it was done with me. I was losing the only family I ever had.

  But the guys wouldn’t have it. Jude said him and Gunner didn’t hump their way up that hill and drag my bloody ass to the evacuation point just so I could rot in some VA hospital. He resigned his commission, and Gunner let his contract expire without re-upping. Even Daniel threw his hat in with us, and we left government service together. When Jax joined us, we became our solid five, and now I never want it to be any less. The five us — friends, partners, brothers. Always.

  Gunner walks back in, grabs a couple of shelves I’ve taken down from the wall, and is off again. He took great care of me throughout all the painful surgeries and grueling physical therapy, and I’ve returned the favor by making sure his diet doesn’t consist of fast food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner — I keep the fridge stocked with healthy foods, cook us dinner as often as I can, and make him protein shakes between meals. The guy is always hungry.

  Gunner is back to take the base of the table out to the hall. “Hey, you order Two Tony’s?”

  “Of course.”

  He eyes me suspiciously. “Whaddya get?”

  “Same as always. Triple meat supremes, cheesesticks, pasta, and your chocolate-chip cannoli’s.”

  “Right on.”

  “But they discontinued the anchovies on the supreme.”

  Gunner hefts the shelves under his right arm and sighs with a pout. “Everyone else picked them off, anyway.”