DONKEY: A Stepbrother Sports Romance (With FREE Bonus Novel Charged!)

by Stephanie Brother

  “I’m just the desk sergeant, and I only just got in. If you weren’t all over the TV, I’d have no idea what you’d done. Someone’ll be along later to fill you in on what happens now. You better get used to the wait, maybe the space too. I have a feeling that you’re going need a lot of patience moving forward.”

  “Wait”, Gracey said, but the door was already closing. “I didn’t do it, I keep telling them.”

  “Patience”, was all the desk sergeant said before the huge locks clunked into their bay.

  Gracey sat back on her fold-out bed, defeated. There was nothing she could do but wait. That and hope that Leighton would find her.

  ***

  Leighton could see the journalists from the windows above, swarming around like a pack of hungry wolves. The story had been all over the morning TV news, where snippets of an interview with Pandora were played alongside sweeping images of the Chesapeake estate, and promises of a full and exclusive update later on in the afternoon. He had managed to get copies of the newspapers delivered to his room, which now sat spread out across the bed. Each one covered in conjecture masquerading as truth.

  That was exactly what he intended on spending the day changing. After only a few seconds of waiting, the phone was picked up.

  “911, what is your emergency?”

  Leighton cleared his throat. “I have trespassers in my house, and they are refusing to leave.”

  “What is your address please, Sir?”

  The journalists in the street drank coffee and waited. Leighton made his voice tight.

  “2742 Gulls Pike Avenue, Baltimore, 21224.”

  “Do you feel threatened, Sir?”

  “Yes. Please send someone as soon as you can.”

  “Ok, bear with me, I’ll have a unit dispatched as soon as possible. Would you like to stay on the line until they arrive?”

  “No, that’s not necessary, thank you.”

  Ten minutes later, Leighton was once again fighting the crowds of journalists on the way to his car.

  When he arrived at the house, two police cars were already there to greet him, along with a pair of confused officers and a very pissed off mother and daughter, still in their dressing gowns.

  Leighton’s breath condensed in the air. “I am the legal owner of this property”, he said, handing the police officers the titles of deed. “This family have been trespassing here for the last week without my consent. It’s time for them to leave.”

  “Murderer”, Pandora shouted, even though she was still eyeing him up.

  “Fuck off back to New York”, Alexis added, the first of the day’s cigarettes in her mouth. Around them, a hastily woken news team filmed the scene as it broke.

  The two police officers looked at each other. Pandora and Alexis looked at each other. Isabella looked at them all from her bedroom window.

  “Come on”, one of them said, turning to the women. “I reckon it’s time to get your stuff.”

  “This is my house”, Alexis shouted, “And that man killed my husband.”

  She pointed her cigarette at him viciously. “He should be in prison.”

  “A statement please, Leighton.”

  One of the journalists thrust a microphone at Leighton, equally viciously.

  “You’re going to turn these people out on the street?” said another. “That’s not very humanitarian of you, is it?”

  There was pandemonium. Alexis and Pandora refused to leave and the police officers didn’t feel comfortable attempting to eject them, especially not when it was all being broadcast live on TV. They were conscious of making sure they did the right thing, and completely unsure what that thing should be. In the end, they phoned for back up, and specific advise on how best to handle the situation.

  “A comment, please, Mr. Tempest.”

  “Is it true your net worth is in the region of sixteen billion dollars?”

  “Let them have their house, Leighton. Haven’t you already got enough?”

  “Did you kill Philip Mandrake De Vries, Leighton? Did you kill your father?”

  “Please”, Leighton said eventually. “This is a difficult time for everyone. I have decided to move into Chesapeake Estate and use it as my base of operations for the foreseeable future. If the Logan family were to remain, it would be a conflict of interest.”

  “Are you having an affair with your stepsister?”

  The question rang in Leighton’s ears.

  “He fucked her”, Pandora said, her face turned into a snarl. “I saw them.”

  “Disgusting”, Alexis added. “Your own flesh and blood.”

  Leighton hung his head. Alexis was intelligent enough to know that they two of them were not related in any way, she was just being intentionally inflammatory.

  “This isn’t going to look good, Leighton. Accused of conspiring to kill your own father, now ejecting your new family out onto the streets. An affair with your stepsister, it’s positively Shakespearean.”

  Leighton turned to the police officers. He could see more flashing lights coming up the drive.

  “Enough”, he said. “This is private property. Do your job and remove them.”

  “I am not going anywhere”, Pandora protested, while Alexis stormed inside, desperate to get to the drinks cabinet and fill up a holdall bag with gin before the police dragged her away from her former property, kicking and screaming.

  That was essentially what they had to do, and it took six police officers to put into action. They were threatened with arrest, almost handcuffed and then finally convinced to leave of their own accord based on the negative consequences if they didn’t, and the fact that it actually looked so much better on TV if they did. To facilitate the process, the three girls were loaded into the back of a police car which gave the impression they were actually being arrested, Isabella the only one amongst them happy to go quietly.

  When they had finally been removed, Leighton turned his attention to the journalists that had somehow remained. He asked them kindly to leave, which they responded to with a barrage of questions of their own. Eventually they had to be escorted to the perimeter of the property by the police, where the huge gates that Pandora had been more than happy to open to them last night, were slammed in their faces and locked.

  Under instruction by Detective Foster, who had found out about the bedlam that morning, the three Logan girls were brought directly to the police station.

  Alexander curled up at Leighton’s feet. Finally there was silence. Part one of his plan had already been actioned, part two was to get Gracey out of prison and bring her home.

  “Come on boy”, he said, ruffling the dog’s hair. “Let’s go and see what we can find.”

  Chapter 29

  While Gracey whiled away the hours in a police station holding cell, waiting for someone to tell her exactly what was going on, Leighton began organizing everything he could in her defence. Through his legal team, he was able to find out when Gracey’s case was to be heard (tomorrow morning), what they planned to do with her in the interim (nothing) and how much her bail would likely be set at, if granted at all (over a million dollars, and likely higher due to Leighton’s public profile). He organised a full forensic sweep of the house and grounds, while preparing a team of scientific and independent criminal experts to be kept on a retainer for when a trial was announced, and he paid a team of private investigators to look as closely as possible at all three Logan girls. Leighton assumed Pandora to be the guilty party, intentionally distracting the focus away from herself and onto himself and Gracey, and he was prepared to leave no stone unturned in proving it. He wouldn’t have been surprised if all three were guilty, however.

  He tried to make contact with Gracey again, but was only able to do so through Alex. Detective Foster had forbidden him access on grounds that he was still a suspect in collaboration, despite Esmeralda’s testimony that proved otherwise. There was little else he could do once all that was in place, other than wait, and hope for the best. Leighton kne
w bail was granted in only ten percent of murder cases, but he didn’t want to think of what might happen if it wasn’t. If he had more time, he might be able to present an adequate case of defence to the state prosecutor, but to get reports back on tests would take too much time. The state was keen to push the case through as quickly as possible, which was why it had been bumped up to be seen tomorrow morning. Murder cases never usually took more than seventy two hours to bring to court. It was standard procedure. Gracey would be put in front of the prosecutor in the morning and be charged with murder.

  It had been a crazy few weeks. Leighton never expected any of this at all. He had come to say goodbye to a man that never knew him. To look him in the face, once and for all. He hadn’t expected to be arrested on suspicion of conspiracy to murder his father, nor fall in love with someone who was about to be charged for the crime. Neither had he expected to be the sole recipient of everything that his father owned. That almost confused Leighton more than anything else at all. Why did his father, who had spent almost twenty years in the company of his wife, leave everything he owned to him? Sure he hated her, but did he hate her more than he hated Leighton, to deny her his money and give it all to him? There was something he was missing.

  When the doorbell went, he left it, expecting it to be another team of journalists intent on getting full access to the exclusive, messed-up story. Almost immediately afterwards his phone rang, and a quick glance at the display told him who it was.

  Esmeralda stood on the porch looking absolutely exquisite. In her hands she held the document, which had been resealed in the jiffy bag, so it looked like it hadn’t been opened at all. Leighton leaned casually against the door frame, his hands in his pockets. He hadn’t expected this impromptu visit, but despite the surprise, he was always pleased to see his undeniably beautiful personal assistant. He was impressed too that she had the balls to come here directly.

  “What are you doing here, Esmeralda?”

  “Well seeing as you’ve insisted on not coming home, what kind of PA would I be if I didn’t bring that home to you”, she said, pushing past him and into the house. “That, and I thought you might need the company. A big house all on your own. You’ll go mad.”

  “I wasn’t sure you still wanted to be my PA after what happened between us.”

  Esmeralda rolled her eyes. If she wasn’t still his PA, what chance did she have of winning him back? She knew she looked good too. The flight took less time than she did to get ready, and she knew the value of presenting Leighton with what he had already decided to pass on. She’d chased him, but now she was prepared to let him do the leg work. Esmeralda was just as proactive as her panty-melting boss.

  “And I’m not on my own, I have Alexander, he’s been very faithful. I expect that apart from the real murderer, he’s the only one who knew what happened.”

  Esmeralda handed him her coat and walked towards where she guessed the kitchen was.

  “Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?”

  “Aren’t you going to tell me why you are really here?”

  Esmeralda sighed and ignored him. The kitchen was the third room she came to. It was always her favorite in any house. Closest to the food, always warm, never far away from the wine. She ran her finger along the large dining table and slumped down into the huge wooden arm chair that took up space at the end of it. Leighton smiled at her. He knew there was a reason why he’d fallen for her. She was cocky and arrogant when she wanted to be. Pissy and moany too, but right now she was showing her better side. Esmeralda dumped the jiffy bag onto the table nonchalantly. “Red”, she said. “Something full bodied.”

  “Alright”, Leighton said. He disappeared for a moment to the cellar underneath the house, returning with a dust covered bottle that could have been fifty years old. Esmeralda watched him silently while he placed two glasses on the table, filled them both up and then put the bottle between them.

  “That’s better”, Esmeralda said sinking into the hug of the chair. They both drank in silence for a moment, a web of unspoken attraction knotting between them.

  “You know, two weeks ago, you would have already bent me over the table.”

  Leighton didn’t even waver. “Is that what you came here for?”

  “Just saying.”

  She watched him stand up to put distance between them. Even leaning casually against a wall he looked as hot as hell. Just stood there doing nothing but turning the glass in his hand he oozed charm and sophistication and fuckability in orders of magnitude normal people had the impossibility to comprehend, and Gods would discuss amongst themselves as exceptions to the rules of creation.

  Leighton took a sip of his wine, never once taking his eyes of his volatile, lust-filled PA.

  “How long are you here for?” he asked suspiciously.

  He was like a broken record, she could see it in him. What the hell did Gracey have that Esmeralda didn’t?

  “I came to give you this”, Esmeralda said, pushing the document across the table to him. It was couriered to me with an apology from your late father’s legal team. Apparently, according to the will, it was meant to be given to you at the reading, along with everything else.”

  Leighton moved forward to take the document, leaving his wine glass on the table and returning to where he had been standing. It was almost as if he was trying not to get too close to her.

  “What is it?” he asked, holding the package suspiciously.

  “As far as I know, it’s a letter from your father explaining why he wanted the inheritance to go to you. That’s all they told me.”

  Leighton threw it back to Esmeralda and she had to be quick to catch it before it knocked over her wine.

  “Fuck”, she shouted at him.

  “What does it say, Esmeralda? I know you too well to know you’ve already read it.”

  “Just read it”, Esmeralda said quickly, throwing the document back to him and neither confirming or denying his hypothesis. “You’re going to want to know what it says.”

  “You couldn’t have summarized it on the phone for me?”

  “You’re not pleased to see me?”

  Leighton avoided the question.

  “Who is looking after things in your absence?”

  “It’s under control”, Esmeralda said defensively. “I’d figured you’d need me here. I was being proactive. Who knows how long you plan to stay here after all?”

  “I guess we’ll figure that out in the morning.”

  Esmeralda reached for the wine bottle to fill her glass.

  “What is it you see in her?” she asked, unable to hold herself back now. The plan had been to show no signs of jealousy or bitterness, but it was proving impossible to be civil and understanding. She’d been so close, after waiting so long. Leighton should have been hers. He still should be hers.

  “Please don’t do this, Esmeralda. I’ve already had a dozen people evicted from this property today, I’d rather not evict another.”

  Esmeralda’s eyes went wide at that. She almost choked on her wine too. The bastard. Here she was doing him a favor and that was the way he treated her. She was by far the better candidate of the two of them, and it didn’t take a genius to see it.

  “Is she blackmailing you? Has she got something on you. Some kind of dirt that I don’t even know about?

  Leighton laughed at that, and it made Esmeralda laugh too. It was good to break the tension.

  “It’s an apology”, Esmeralda said, lifting her eyes to indicate the document. “An explanation. It’s about your mom too. Where she is now.”

  “I don’t want to know”, Leighton said flatly.

  “You might do after you read it.”

  Leighton ignored the comment, using the pause to move forwards and fill his wine glass.

  “I’m having the house examined professionally”, Leighton said. “It’s going to be off limits from the day after tomorrow. It was the earliest I could organize it.”

  “What if she did it,
Leighton?”

  “She’s not capable.”

  Leighton rounded her to stand on the other side, and Isabella twisted in her chair to make sure she could still see him.

  “I’ve seen the stories they’ve been putting out on the news. Leighton Tempest in love with his stepsister, you know how bad that looks? Whatever happens, I think publically you should step back. She’s going to be charged with murder tomorrow. Do you really want to be linked to that?”

  Now it was Leighton’s turn to roll his eyes. “She didn’t do it.”

  “This is bad for business, however you look at it.”

  “You’ll organize a counter campaign. Get a statement released tomorrow. I expect that if you have my best interests at heart, you’ll already be doing it.”

  “They have fingerprints on the glass he was poisoned from.”

  “Gracey’s fingerprints are all over the house, that’s not too unusual. Plus she admits being with him that evening. She admits to helping him to a drink.”

  “It doesn’t look good, especially when they found traces of the poison in her bedroom.”

  “Whose side are you on here?” Leighton asked, tired of the accusations.

  “I just don’t want to see you fuck up”, Esmeralda admitted.

  “Get as much information as you can about the family. One of those girls is responsible for framing us both. That fucking Pandora, she’s a piece of work.”

  “I thought you liked that kind of thing.”

  “Some girls just can’t hide the fact that they want it.”

  Leighton moved closer to Esmeralda.

  “Is that right?” Esmeralda said, her face inches away from his now. If she didn’t know better, he was moving in to kiss her. Two weeks ago he might have been doing just that.

  “That’s right”, Leighton said and took the wine bottle from the table.

  Esmeralda felt shivers trickle down her spine.

  “You won’t be able to see her if they don’t grant bail”, Esmeralda said confidently. “It can take a long time to for a trial to get to court, and in this state they don’t offer conjugal visits. How on earth are you going to cope? That big dick of yours is going to need feeding at some point. Sooner rather than later I’d say.”