33 Degrees of Separation (Legacy)

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33 Degrees of Separation (Legacy) Page 27

by Rain Carrington


  “Sure. I’m not as nosy as I let on, but I also know you’re not just a bodyguard and…whatever else you are. I can also spot a cop from forty paces.”

  “Fed, actually.”

  “Same difference, bigger badge.”

  He laughed at that and patted her arm. “You’re pretty great, like Ian raved.”

  “I know. And wait until you taste your sausage and peppers. The palace intrigues you’ve given me today warrants a reward.”

  “Oh, my, I may dump Ian for you with talk like that, and I don’t like girls that way.”

  Pat went walking, acting as if he was checking around to protect his principle, Ian. When he came to the east wing, where his parents’ rooms were, he saw the man Fiona was speaking about, standing in front of Marianne’s door.

  Pat nodded to him, and he nodded once back. “How are ya?”

  The man who was bald and as tall and broad as Pat glared before he said, “I’m busy.”

  “Yeah. I bet,” Pat joked, then turned on his heel and walked away. Like he thought, he was soon grabbed by the arm and forced to turn around to face the angry man.

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Nothing, brother, just…you know. There are perks to our jobs, right?”

  His eyes narrowed and he spat, “Fucking faggot.”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  Storming off, Marianne’s bodyguard/driver/lover didn’t say another word. Pat hurried off to the yard, walking off toward the garage. Once he got Javi on the phone, he told him to find out anything he could about the driver, also to get on tailing Marianne when they left at the weird hours Fiona was describing.

  “I should be five people with all the shit you give me to do, Papi.”

  “I could call Grady. He’d be happy to come give me a hand, and he wouldn’t be staring at my dick all the time.”

  “Fuck you, Papi, I had a nice dick last night, made me forget all about yours, but you pulled me away before I got to feel it. So now, live with it, fucker.”

  Pat was chuckling hard and stopped his pacing behind the garage. “Seriously, Javi, if you need help, we can call in help.”

  “Done it already, asshole. Grady is going to be here in an hour, and Parkinson just got off the plane. I am good, Papi, but I only got two hands.”

  “Thanks, man. I hate to say it, because I know you already did, but swear them to secrecy, huh?”

  “Like I’m fucking stupid. Yeah, done. Go take care of mijo. He’s gotta be itching to get in this fight. You guys figure out how to get them books yet?”

  “Just what we talked about last night. Think it will work?”

  “It’ll work, but they’re gonna know something’s up. We won’t have any time after it happens. They’ll put everything in high gear.”

  Pat felt his skin crawling at the thought of that. “I know. I’m still hoping one of us comes up with a better plan.”

  Ian’s father was walking toward him as he was hanging up with Javi. He didn’t look any too happy.

  “What the fuck did you do, riling up Mitchel?”

  “Who the hell is Mitchel?”

  “My wife’s driver.”

  He looked like he could punch Pat, but he wouldn’t because he knew Pat would destroy his face. Not that Pat would, of course, but Ian’s father didn’t know that. “Sorry, but I want him a little distracted. Your wife has been acting strangely, and she’s a family member of the Grail, in more than one family. She’s the fucking enemy until we know differently, and I can’t say that to Ian. He may not be close with his mother, but it’s still his mother.”

  “I was afraid of that. She acts like she doesn’t have a care in the world except her shopping and looking perfect all the time, but she also has a keen eye on the bottom line. If she thought for a minute she wouldn’t be one of the richest women in the world, she’ll likely take me out, and her son and half the world with us.”

  “Whoa, whoa, you don’t know that. That’s his mother. Until we know something is wrong, we cannot jump to those kinds of conclusions. At least not to Ian. He’s got enough to worry about right now.”

  “Right. Sorry,” he said, his shoulders slumping. Pat felt terribly for him, despite still not liking the man all that much.

  “Listen, you want to make up for past mistakes, then do it. Don’t let on about what’s going on with the rest of us. Give her reason to believe everything is okay.”

  “How? It’s not like we’re close.”

  “Take her in confidence. She’s in the family, tell her about some of the things coming, without divulging enough to get you into trouble with the Grail. You have to walk a fine line.”

  “It would be too much to ask that she is trying to fight it too, but I don’t believe that for a second.” The man that had looked exhausted the night before looked near death as he said those words, and Pat fought himself to not reach out and forgive all his past crimes.

  “It would be too much to ask, so we’re not asking. Do what you need to do. And be ready to get those books. You’ve invited all the Grail members to Ian’s party?”

  “I have, and most will be attending.”

  “And Cameron is ready to make a brief appearance as James?”

  “Yes. It’s all set. I’m…I’m not sure I can do this, Pat. I’m no hero. And that isn’t me being humble. I’m a weak coward who let the love of my life kill himself.”

  Pat finally broke, but he turned off his fury and put in its place the only empathy he could muster for the man. “Don’t let him have died in vain, then. Show him, and yourself that you can be his hero.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ian tossed and turned for an hour but didn’t sleep a bit. He set his hand over his balls, knowing that if Pat found out, he’d likely squeeze them off. Then, the thought made him horny, and he grinned wide, thinking of Pat’s big hand on his nuts.

  He got out of bed and thought to look for him, but he knew Pat well enough already that he could be anywhere, searching, lurking, learning. He called him and Pat answered on the first ring. “I thought you were asleep.”

  “I need you. I miss you.”

  “I’ll be right there, baby.”

  Ian fell back on the bed and chided himself for feeling so good in the middle of so many bad things. Pat was why he felt so good. The world could be falling down around them, and as long as Pat was there, he’d feel good. That made no sense to him, but then again, love didn’t make any damn sense.

  He hurried to the bathroom and washed up, fixing his hair and brushing his teeth. He had been neglecting his appearance, neglecting a lot of things with the stress of what was happening, and Pat deserved better.

  When he changed into a pair of boxer briefs that were from his favorite designer and fit him so perfectly, he felt naked in them, he waited on the bed. When Pat walked in, Ian smiled coyly and asked in a whisper, “Got some time for your boy?”

  Pat scratched the stubble on his chin and his right brow rose high. “Oh, I might be talked into it. You know you have to go speak to your mother soon about the party, right? Fiona caught me when I was on my way here to remind me to remind you.”

  He really didn’t want to think of his mother at that moment. After sticking out his lower lip and blinking his eyes slowly while staring up at Pat, he whined, “With everything going on, I’m feeling very neglected, and very lonely.”

  Pat moved to the bed and grabbed his ankle, pulling him easily to the edge. Ian was teetering, ready to fall on the floor, and he started to laugh. Pat did too. “You are awful at the pouty seduction thing! I mean, wow!”

  Ian’s stomach started to hurt he was laughing so hard, and he had to agree in a rush of words, “I know! I know!”

  Pat pulled him up and into his arms as only his brute boyfriend could do and held him like he weighed nothing. “Damn…that is so hot when you do stuff like that.”

  “My baby feels neglected, huh? Need some stress relief?”

  Ian’s hands went right f
or his crotch as his eyes got so wide, they hurt. “Um, depends.”

  “Chicken.”

  “Yeah. Big clucker. I guess…I guess I just miss you, and I know that sounds stupid, we’ve been together every fucking minute of the day, practically since we met, but being in the same vicinity and being together, it’s different. And I know it’s not your fault, it’s mine and my stupid fucking family legacy.”

  “It’s not your fault,” he said as he sat, Ian on his lap with his arms still wrapped around his thick neck. “Not mine, not anyone’s, really. I miss you too. I know what you mean. I promise, though, baby, that when all this is over, we’ll be together, in every sense of the word. I fully plan to stay in bed two weeks straight. Making love, then fucking you, then making love some more.”

  “Mmm, Pat, I love that. I love that so much. Can’t we now, a little?”

  Pat kissed him fully, which didn’t help his need in the least, only made it a hundred times worse. “I can’t right now, baby, as much as I’d love to. I have to meet Javi again, and you need to meet with your mother to finalize the plans for the party. Listen, be…normal with her. Don’t let on about anything, including your anxiety, if you can help it.”

  “Why?”

  Pat was keeping something from him, he had seen it enough to recognize it, but he wouldn’t push. Pat simply explained, “No use worrying her too.”

  “Okay, I’ll accept that for now. Later, you need to tell me what’s going on, though.”

  “I don’t know if anything is going on, babe. Listen, I gotta go. Fiona is making me sausage and peppers and I need to scarf that down before I meet with Javi.”

  Ian tightened around him and kissed him deeply, seducing him and making him know what he was missing, hoping to take it back up later. Pat gave a long moan in the kiss that had Ian’s dick sticking up by the end of it, and he had to wait nearly twenty minutes while he dressed to get it to go down enough to meet with his mother.

  Marianne Andrews had her own form of study. On the second floor of the estate, there was a room that had a gorgeous western view of the Flatirons. The sheer white drapes that matched the monochrome white room were blowing in the breeze, making the room surreal.

  The long, low-back sofa and chaise were perfectly centered in the middle of the room while the narrow Boca writing desk was purposely set at a slant near the corner windows, and the small library had a ladder that ran the length on the wall opposite the windows. Impeccably decorated, immaculately clean and bright, the room was the epitome of his mother.

  She was busily writing on her stationary when he entered and strolled over, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek. “I’m here to be given my instructions, captain party planner.”

  “Stop,” she laughed. “Sit on the chaise, I’m just finishing this.”

  Ian did, lounging more than sitting and gazed out of the windows. Few places in the home made him feel welcome or comfortable, but he loved his mother’s study, if for no other reason that the magnificent views.

  The clouds were over the Flatirons in the far distance, and the manicured grounds of the estate stretched out to the horizon. It was a picture, a portrait in the singular beauty that nature and man could manage to create together. Rolling lawn and perfectly sculpted cypress leading in a wide swath to the forest filled with spruce and aspen. The flowered bushes lined the edges, resembling snowballs from that distance, and his mother’s prized lilies were in beds precisely placed in seemingly random spots.

  “The gardens are lovely, Mother.”

  “Aren’t they? And your father wanted a pool there. We have pools in our California homes and in France, Morocco, but here? We’d only be able to use it a few months. The indoor pool is perfectly fine.”

  “You? Turning your nose up to extravagance? Shocking. What will the society papers say?”

  His mother glared at him for a moment, but smiled, seeing she was being teased. It was mostly teasing, of course, but if she knew Ian meant some of it, she’d lose her coiffed head.

  “Now, Ian, your father said you were bringing a few guests. I…I’d rather you didn’t. It’s not that I don’t like your friend, Denny, he’s fine. It’s just that, for him, it may be uncomfortable. It’s black tie, with only the finest of people, son. He would have nothing in common with them.”

  He wanted to rail, scream, tell her what a pretentious bitch she was and had always been, but it fit their plans perfectly. “Actually, Mother, I agree. I didn’t want anyone treating my friend like he’s beneath them, so he’s stopping by for only a minute or two, and we’re taking off to celebrate with our friends.”

  Confused for only a moment, his mother’s smile was bright when she finally turned it over in her mind. “Well, that’s for the best. It’ll be mostly your father’s friends, and mine, of course. What are your plans?”

  If she only knew, Ian wondered how she’d react. “You know, hit a few clubs, party the night away before I have to grow up and be a full-fledged adult.”

  That soothed her and she commended him, “That’s so good of you, Ian, to realize that. So many young people today have no sense of responsibility or family.”

  “Family? You still expect me to go into business with Father?”

  “Ian, I’m in no mood to argue with you. Deal with your father on that. Right now, I’m concerned with the party tomorrow. Speaking of which, that bodyguard of yours…he’s not going to, oh I don’t know, hang all over you all day, is he?”

  Answering another question he’d had, Ian responded, “No, Mother, my bodyguard has the day off. He’s visiting family himself.”

  She sighed she was so relieved. Ian was sure she knew that Pat was more than a bodyguard and worried her asshole friends would disapprove. “Well, how lovely for him. Everyone will start arriving at three for cocktails, that will be more casual, then we’ll have a beautiful dinner at eight, which we’ll dress for. Wine and brandy after while the band plays and your father will give a speech and then you will give yours to thank everyone for coming.”

  That made it at least ten before he’d be able to duck out, but that wasn’t horrible. Any later, however, and they’d be cooked. “After that, I’m leaving with my friends, Mother. And if we can shave that, I’d appreciate it. Really, do they expect me here long?”

  She fluttered her long, fake lashes and scolded, “Oh, darling, you really should stay as long as you can. As long as you mingle and speak with the right people, I won’t keep you from your fun for too long.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” he said, rising from the chaise and kissing her cheek again. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

  Hurrying back to his room, he was disappointed Pat wasn’t there, but he made plans for the night. He knew Pat was consumed with everything that was happening, as he was and everyone involved were. Like him, he figured that Pat needed a break, to get his mind off it for a little while so he could think more clearly after.

  He knew Pat hadn’t slept much recently, and he as worried about everyone and everything with all that Ian had unleashed on his unsuspecting life. The guilt still gnawed at him like a dog with a bone. Seven times a day he wanted to take off, like he’d originally wanted to do. Leave them all and keep them safe, but that was no longer possible anyway. Not with the culling. As it loomed over them, Pat’s mind was far away at all times, and Ian knew that a lot of that was worry over keeping him safe.

  As Ian stood in the shower, cleaning inside and out in prep for his nightly plans, Ian thought about what they were going to do the next day. He knew Pat hated the idea, worried about it, and didn’t want Ian to have any part of it, but without Ian, it wouldn’t work. Pat was practical, and knew it was the only way.

  Again, he got dressed in his underwear, then walked into the bedroom, scowling as he looked around. Sure, it was romantic, but it wasn’t enough. He got his silver lighter from the desk and lit all the candles, called down for Bethany to bring up some roses from one of the many bouquets his mother kept around the house.

/>   After getting his robe on and taking the roses, he scattered petals around the room, then called Bethany back, pulling her inside the room and asking nervously, “I can’t say who I’m entertaining this evening.”

  She winked at him and whispered, “I’d never ask, sir.”

  “I told you, don’t call me sir. Anyway, whoever this may be…they’re not…it’s…I’m not sure they’d like this like…like some people might like it.”

  He knew he was sounding like a blithering idiot, but Bethany didn’t blink an eye as she purveyed the room. “It’s very romantic, sir, I mean, Ian. May I suggest, however, that you consider what they may like, and somehow incorporate it into this romantic setting?”

  That didn’t register at first. Pat and he, well, they made love, sure, but mostly they liked it rough, with enough BDSM mixed in to keep them both satisfied. That’s when it hit him. “What they like? That might be hard to incorporate into this.”

  Bethan took his hand and led him to the two chairs that were next to the window. She forced him into one and sat in the other, her smile gone. In fact, her face was gone as she had bent her head so far down that he couldn’t see it. “Sir, I mean, Ian, well, I’ve been around here a long time, as you know. Maids, well…we find things we’re never supposed to acknowledge or comment on, but with your permission, I’d like to say that I may know what you’re referring to.”

  Ian felt his face heat like he’d fallen asleep in the Florida sun for an entire sunny day. “You…you find things. While you’re cleaning.”

  She nodded and explained, “I swear, I try not to look, but when we’re doing our deep cleans, flipping mattresses, and the like…”

  Ian sat back, and suddenly, he started to laugh. It was a little nervous, but mostly it was ironic. “Jesus, I never think about that stuff. I have been raised to not see what and whom is right in front of me.”

  “It’s not your fault, Ian. Really, you have never been…like them. And once you went to school, we all saw it, that you had been touched by the world in a way that most of your class never are. Please, I hope you’re not taking that wrong.”

 

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