by Ruby Vincent
“What’s the duchess look like?” Rowen asked. “Uggo?”
Winston leaned back, turning his pleased expression to the ceiling. “Cornflower blue eyes. Hair like silk. An ass I’d tap on repeat—and have.”
The guys hooted and hollered. They weren’t so much as looking at their cards.
“So what’s the problem?” Nasir spoke up. “Marriage is a business move. In your case, you’ve acquired a fine asset.”
His tone left no imagination in what he meant by “fine” and “asset.”
“She’s a good fuck but why be limited to one for the rest of your life? I floated the idea of an open marriage and she threatened to cut the boys off with a rusty spoon. Needless to say, marriage talks are breaking down.”
The guys laughed in his face. I admit I cracked a smile too.
Good for the duchess. Thirty minutes with Winston Abernathy III and it’s obvious she deserves better.
“My parents aren’t dangling picks in front of me,” Rowen said, “but they made it clear I can’t bring a wife home without a prenup. They’re cut-off-my-inheritance serious.”
“Same,” Nasir said.
“Me too,” echoed Hayes. “What about you, Maverick?”
What about playing the fucking game?
“Call,” I said, tossing in my chips. “I don’t have to worry about any of that. I’m not getting married.”
“Makes sense.” Sawyer raised and threw a handful in without even looking. “Val can only legally marry one of you. Keeps things equal to stay out of the wedding ring roulette.”
Hayes pulled a face. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Maverick and his friends have the same girlfriend.” Aiden answered with the reply still on my tongue. “What do they call that again? Poly relationship or something.”
Hayes blinked at me. “You serious?”
“Now that’s the way to do it.” Winston surveyed me in a whole new appreciative light. “If only I could get the duchess on board.”
“The duchess might not object to being loved and worshiped by multiple partners,” I said. “But it’s Val and Val alone for me. Pretty sure your soon-to-be fiancée made it clear she’d expect to be your one.”
“What about your friends?” Nasir asked. “Are you with them too?”
“Asking me if I’m with my boys is like asking how often I hook up with my sister. They’re as close to brothers as I got.”
“Brothers? Are you talking about Lennox, Shea, and Van Zandt?” Hayes asked. “I remember you guys used to be tight.”
“Still are.”
“Sooo... if I’m getting this straight,” Rowen drew out, “you have one girlfriend, and your girlfriend has four boyfriends.”
“And we have a son, cat, possible puppy, and a home in the Estates. Any more questions?”
The guys traded looks, ranging from astonished to uninterested—Aiden and Sawyer—and said nothing.
“Looks like I finally shut the noise down,” I said, grinning away. “Now we can play some poker.”
“In that case,” said Aiden, “all in.”
The guys stopped nattering for a solid stretch and played, contributing to the growing pile of chips in front of me.
Rowen finally shoved from the table. “Let’s take a break.”
The others were up on the last word. Clearly, they were cool to stop losing money to me.
“Surprised you’re not three hundred pounds and choking on diabetes,” Nasir said to me. We followed the others to the bar.
“What?”
“With all the Oreos you’ve skimmed off unlucky saps over the years.”
I barked a laugh. “The weight couldn’t keep up with my growth spurt, and now I skim pocket change from unlucky saps.”
“You’re not so bad, Beaumont.” Rowen crossed his legs at the ankles, leaning against the barstool.
“Told you guys.” Sawyer shot me a look of approval that, again, I didn’t understand.
“Slow down,” Winston said. “The real measure of a man is how well he can handle his scotch. Give this a taste, Ricky.”
His fingers obscured the label. Winston poured me a generous helping and passed it over with a look in his russet eyes that he truly was seeking my measure.
I accepted, eyes locked on him, and chanced a sip. The Scottish whiskey burned a sharp and smoky trail down my throat. I hummed in pleasure. “Ten-year Laphroaig. Personal favorite of mine.”
Winston’s smile came slow, but it came all the same. “I’m a Balvenie man myself, but I respect your style.”
Aiden moved in between us, snagging the Laphroaig as Winston went to pour some more. “Do you respect him enough to let him settle our argument?”
“Not this again,” Hayes groaned. “You both made good points.”
“And we’re evenly split on who made the best,” Aiden said. “Maverick makes an odd number. Whoever he agrees with, wins.”
The guys passed glances around each other, and then at me. I weathered their scrutiny in stride. Whatever this was, they’d get to the punchline eventually.
“Okay,” Winston finally said. “Maverick decides.”
“I decide what?”
“Winston and I are locked in an argument on the function of laws,” Aiden stated. “It came up in his textbook and our discussion spiraled like everything does with this fucker.”
“It’s true,” Winston added.
“Hear us both out and tell us who has the better argument. You’ll help us settle a bet.”
“I can do that.”
“Sweet. So, I say that laws exist merely to restrict social behavior.” Aiden crossed the room and retook his chair. “What one person or people can do to another person. In their essence, every law was created to control people and that will always be their function. They will change only as we, and the way we treat each other, change.”
I nodded, turning over his argument. “All right. Winston?”
“I say his notion is inaccurate from top to bottom. Laws don’t exist merely for people-to-people behaviors. There are laws for animal welfare and cruelty. Laws protecting buildings, trees, or where you can stamp your foot in the forest in case you come down on some rapidly disappearing fauna. Laws exist to restrict our behavior, certainly, but not solely in regard to how we interact with each other.”
“Lay your arms down, gentlemen,” Hayes joked. “Maverick, deliver the verdict.”
I took my time considering both their points. I had to agree each of their arguments were solid, but, in the end, only one truly expressed the reason for laws.
“I have to say... I agree with Aiden.”
Aiden smacked the table. “You see? Tell him why, my friend.”
“Yes.” Winston reclaimed his seat. “Why?”
“While it’s true that laws don’t merely restrict our actions against people, the effect on other people is still the basis for every law made to protect objects, plants, or animals. For example, it’s the horror others felt when they witnessed a man beating his dog or starving his horse that pushed them to demand laws against animal cruelty.
“Strange as it is to admit, it’s not really about that animal’s welfare so much as it is about the voices speaking up for their welfare, and the growing understanding we’ve accepted as a society, in the vileness of the act. The proof is in the fact that we can be charged for animal cruelty, but not for carving up an animal and eating its meat.
“One act is viewed by the majority as wrong while the other is not. Whereas I’m sure Bambi would vote for neither. Laws are only about people. What horrifies us. What goes against our interests. What hurts us and the things we care about. As Aiden said, it’s all about social behavior.”
A thick silence descended on the room. Absolute for our position underground. The only thing that could be heard was the screaming smugness on Aiden’s face.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself. Boys?”
Nasir blew out a breath. “Rick’s argumen
t is sound. Aiden wins. Winston, hand over the keys.”
The cravat-wearing Brit swore under his breath as he dug in his pocket.
“Keys?” I spoke up. “Keys to what?”
“My Jag. And you’re giving me a ride home, mate,” he said to my openly stunned expression. “We’re discussing your theory further.”
“Don’t bother,” Aiden said. “You lost. The car is mine.”
“Hold up,” I cried. “Dropping ten grand on the poker table is one thing. But did you seriously bet your car on the winner of an offhand thought you got out of a textbook?”
Winston shrugged. “I’ve got three others.”
Like that’s the fucking point.
“It’s all fun between friends,” Sawyer cut in. He raised his brows. “Which we are, right? Friends.”
“Slow down,” I said mildly. “I’m not that easy.”
The group found that amusing.
“We try to do this every week,” Hayes said. “You should join us.” He spoke in my direction but I had a feeling the statement was for the room.
Winston confirmed the feeling, replying, “Fine. He’s a decent bloke. Let him in.”
Nods went around the table.
“What do you say, Rick?” Sawyer asked. “Will we see you next week?”
My muscles moved of their own accord—contracting and loosening, moving my head up and down.
“See you next week.”
WINSTON MADE GOOD ON his threat to climb into my car.
I drove him out to the beach, dropping him at his family’s third home, and his sole home while he went to Somerset. The entire drive we talked laws, government, his life in England, and then a dip into our favorite television shows. Turns out he wasn’t that bad of a guy when he wasn’t waxing poetic about the tight pussies of his conquests.
It was almost one in the morning by the time I crawled home, dragging myself upstairs. I nearly forgot I promised Adam my bed until two mounds—one big, one small—greeted me. I didn’t have the heart to carry him to his room and Jaxson was liable to take a swing if I woke him from a deep sleep. The guy got so little of that these days.
I changed, brushed my teeth, and hit my pillow face-first. We were having a sleepover and that was that.
Tonight was strange.
The thought floated on the edge of sleep, coaxing me to chase it, catch it, examine it. The poker game was odd for the reason that it was so... normal. A couple of guys drinking, talking, and shooting the shit. No part of it could be classed as suspicious. Although, betting your car to win an argument was hardcore.
Sawyer, Aiden, and the guys want me in their group, so I’ll play. I’ll do whatever it takes to...
“ADORABLE, AREN’T THEY?”
A dry voice knocked on my consciousness, tugging me out of sleep.
“Aww. Look at my boys.”
And that voice peeled my eyes open. “Val?”
“Hi, love.” Val beamed at me through the screen. “Wild night last night?”
I pushed myself up, nearly bumping into the tablet. Ezra kindly held her up higher.
Adam was splayed out next to me and on his side was Jaxson. I guess we did make a cute sight.
As does the girl I’m looking at.
Valentina looked to be reclining on a white chaise. Over her head, a canopy of lush, vibrant jungle served as her backdrop.
“How’s Adam? How are the puppies? How are you?”
“Adam got to babysit and sleep in the big bed, so life is good in his world. The puppies are great and I... have a lot to tell you when you get back.”
“Oh? Is now not a good time?”
I shook my head. “I want you to enjoy your vacation. It can wait.”
“Okay, if you’re sure,” she pressed.
“I’m sure.”
“Then we’ll pick it up when I get back. Do you mind waking up my baby and my favorite bad boy producer? My favorite grumpy CEO says I have five minutes left.”
Ryder’s voice came through the speakers. “Tick, tick, tick.”
“Sure.”
I got the boys up and they said their greetings to Val.
With my robotics duties out of the way, I skipped out on a reason to go to campus except for football games with my intramural team and even that was canceled for the week, owing to two guys getting sick and the third heading up to Wisconsin to visit his mother. I was free to build a robot with Adam, race ATVs on the back roads with Jaxson, and let my mother guilt me into having dinner with her and Dad every other night. I even got some time in with Olivia.
“Teddy,” she declared. She snuggled the little black and white pup licking her cheek. “He’s sweet and cuddly like a teddy bear. It fits.”
“We shouldn’t name them.” Olivia and I sat in the closet, giving the puppies attention while Ezra and Adam took Mom outside for a break. “They’re not ours.”
“If an animal spits out babies in your closet, they’re yours. The owner wants to say something about it, their ass should be here.”
I chuckled. Olivia was Valentina in every way. Or it was more accurate to say Valentina was like Olivia.
“We can’t keep calling them ‘the puppies.’ Come on.” She reached in the basket and pulled out one of the two girls. “What should we name her?”
“Well, she’s a fierce one. She’d knock her own brother down and step on his head to get to that nipple. A girl like that should be called... Pepper.”
“Pepper. I like it. Now you’re getting into it.” She picked up one of the boys. “And him?”
“Doc,” I stated. “Because of his dopey face.”
Olivia groaned. “And just like that, you’re off naming duty. I’ll handle it from here.”
“What’d I do?” I cried, cracking up. “Doc is a solid name.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
“This sweet boy’s name is Milo”—she fixed me with a look—“and don’t let me catch you calling him anything else.”
I threw my hands up in surrender, phone and all. “Milo it is.” I put the cell to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, Rick.”
“Sawyer. What’s up?”
“You still coming tonight?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“No reason. It’s just... it’s good.”
My brows crept together. “What’s good?”
“Having seven. See you at nine.”
The click sounded in my ear, cutting off my chance to ask what the hell he meant. I pulled the cell away and stared at it in confusion like its black screen had answers for me.
“Maverick.” Olivia broke into my thoughts. “Meet Pepper, Milo, Teddy, Dixie, Chester, Blue, and Romeo.”
“Really?” I lifted the now-named Dixie and let her nibble on my chin. “I was thinking Sarah Jessica Barker. Or how about Virginia Woof?”
“You have now lost the right to name my grandchildren.”
I fell over laughing, and was immediately descended upon by the Australian cattle dog horde.
That night, I put Adam to bed in his temporary room—mine. Daphne and Caroline began renovations on his the day before. With Jaxson and Ezra getting up early to head to work, Adam was bunking with me. Naturally, he was thrilled at being near the puppies, and I loved having the little guy around. We stayed up watching movies and eating ice cream in bed like I used to do with my dad. Also like my dad, I made him swear to keep our sugar-binge sessions a secret from Val.
Only when he was asleep did I get dressed and leave for the poker game. Jaxson called out to me as I climbed off the bottom step.
“Yo, Rick.” He emerged from the living room. “Seriously, you’re going to this thing again?”
“Yes, I’m going. I can’t figure out what Aiden’s about from the other side of campus.”
He carded his fingers through his hair, somehow not messing it up. “Listen. I’ve been thinking. Do we need to know what he’s about? Sawyer Burn wasn’t chopped into pieces and scattered in the ocean like chum. He�
��s fine. That Teagan girl is fine. Leighton Lewis—dead or alive—isn’t coming back. Logan is dead. We caught the person who ran Valentina off the road. Aiden obviously didn’t hurt those guys, he didn’t hurt Val, and we can’t prove he’s hurt anyone else. Why can’t we just let this one go?”
Stiffening, my grip tightened on the banister. “Because the last time we sensed something was wrong, we put our heads down, pretended everything was normal while deep down a thick rope of fear strangled us. All of us. The entire town.”
“It’s not like the academy.”
“It’s exactly like the academy,” I shot back. “Someone should have put a stop to that shit a long time ago. Instead we pretended what we couldn’t see, we didn’t have to face. Well, I see Aiden Connelly. I see through his smug-ass grin and offers of friendship. He may not be a serial killer, but something isn’t right with that guy. And that strangling fear, it chokes Val every time she sets foot in that house and wonders if there’s another Leighton nearby—watching her, digging into her life, forming another group of budding sociopaths.”
Jaxson crossed between me and the door. “I hear you, man. I really do. All I’m saying is what Val’s been trying to tell us for months. If Leighton Lewis was a threat to her, she wouldn’t have given the knife back. Whoever cleaned up that body for her might be in it with Aiden too. That’s fucking serious, but it’s also the cops’ job to track them down. You’re playing undercover hacker and putting yourself in danger for what? Connelly’s too smart to slip up with you around.”
“No. He’s arrogant. He thinks he’s always the smartest guy in the room and that’s how I know he’ll slip up. When he does, we’ll find out the truth about Leighton Lewis, the people who’ve vanished from the Sams and Sallys, why he collects dossiers on his brothers, and what he knows about the people who got rid of Logan’s body. The guy is right next door to Val almost every day. I won’t sit around while she does what we know she will do—find the truth on her own.”
“Fuck. All right.” Jaxson stepped aside. “Go. Be a hero. Save our lady.” His hand shot out as I took a step forward. “But if something happens. Anything. Call me. I’ve got your back.”
“I know you do.” I gripped his shoulder. “You’ll run in and protect me with those noodle arms. All five foot nothing of you against the big, bad—”