by H Q Kingsley
"Hey," I said, forcing a smile.
"Hey. Where were you?" There was something slightly vulnerable in his eyes, and I could guess what he'd thought when he'd woken up to find me gone.
"Had to pee," I lied.
That placated him, and he melted into that easy smile, sitting up just enough that he could reach out for me. "Well get back here, then. I need to say good morning properly."
I thought about insisting that I needed to leave, that I had things to do, but instead, I went over to the bed and got back in, and we passed a very nice hour just kissing and touching each other.
When he finally let me up for air, I was laughing, pushing away at his grabbing hands. “I really should get going,” I said. “I have things to do today.”
“Mm, yeah, me too,” he agreed. “Should shower first, though, don’t you think?”
I was a sweaty mess, and even though he’d cleaned me up the night before, I didn’t really feel clean. I knew as soon as I agreed to a shower, it would turn into us showering together which would turn into us having sex in the shower, and somehow I just couldn’t bring myself to see that as a bad thing.
He kissed the back of my shoulder, and I sighed and once again forgot the reason I was supposed to be there.
10
Patrick
I glared at my phone as, once again, I hung up on Paddox's voicemail. Every time I tried to contact him, it was either voicemail or him saying he'd call me back later over text and then not getting back to me for hours.
He was distracted, obviously, and maybe still a bit pissed at me from our last fight, but it had been a month since I last talked to my own damned brother, and enough was enough.
He was never around when I needed him to be. He hadn't been by the warehouse for more than a few minutes in weeks, and the check-ins he was supposed to have overseen were going undone.
I didn't know what the hell had gotten into him, but I was clearly going to have to say something to him about it to get him back on track. He was just as big a part of this as I was, no matter who the grunts thought was the boss, and I needed his head to be in the game.
I thought I had made that clear to him, but apparently I was going to have to push the issue again.
There was a little voice in the back of my head that reminded me of the coming storm. That feeling of worry in my gut was still there, churning away, never letting me forget about it, and that little voice was whispering that Paddox was acting strange, and maybe...maybe he was the problem.
I usually trusted my gut, but not about that. Paddox was just...going through something or whatever. He needed to be reminded that he mattered to the cause. He would never betray me. We were too close for that. We were brothers and had been through everything together. Just because I went off on him sometimes didn't mean he'd go against me. I knew that.
At least, I thought I did.
If he wasn't going to answer his damned phone, then I was just going to have to drop in on him and talk to him face to face. It wasn't like he was leaving me a lot of choice in the matter. He liked his privacy, but I liked knowing my brother wasn't off fucking things up. So, he would just have to deal.
I got to his apartment and even did him the courtesy of knocking instead of just letting myself in. I had a key, whether he knew I did or not, and even if I didn't, I'd been picking locks since I was ten-years-old. I could get in if I wanted to. But I was going for being polite.
There was a second or two where I didn't hear anything and then the door was opening, but instead of Paddox, Skylar was there, standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.
For a second, I was stunned, surprised at seeing him there and then distracted by looking him over. Damn. I could see what Paddox saw in him. He had well-toned arms and a flat stomach with the hint of abs, not bodybuilder muscular, but damned well-built. As I checked him out, I caught sight of a tattoo stretching down his side, and I almost tipped my head to get a better view, but then recovered myself.
I wasn't there to ogle my brother's latest mistake, and I added Skylar to the list of things I needed to have words with Paddox about. This had to stop, and it would be harder if they were already fucking.
Paddox was a hopeless romantic. Desperate, like I'd said before. He was so horny for love that he went around throwing his heart after anyone who looked at him for long enough, and it never worked out. A little mediocre dick and he was saying he was in love and forgetting himself and what we needed to do.
"Uh, come in," Skylar said, stepping to the side, and I pushed past him, barely acknowledging his presence at all.
"Paddox!" I shouted, voice echoing in the space. "We need to talk."
I could hear muted swearing from the bedroom, and then Paddox appeared, looking sheepish but trying not to.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
I folded my arms, glaring at him. "Why the hell do you have one of our workers here answering the door for you?" I demanded.
Paddox scowled. "I can have whoever the fuck I want over at my place, Patrick," he snapped back. "I asked him to get the door. And I told you not to come over here in the first damned place."
I gritted my teeth, anger and irritation snapping under my skin. I didn't want to get into it with my brother in front of Skylar. We were supposed to be a united front, and having some slinger-turned-security-grunt see us fighting wouldn't do anything good for morale.
I needed to talk to Paddox, but maybe something else had to be dealt with first.
"Go put some clothes on," I said, finally addressing Skyler. "It's time for you to remember that you actually have a job to do. I have to run an errand, and you're my security."
"Oh," he said, nodding quickly. "Right. I'll be right back."
At least someone still remembered who was in charge around here. I caught sight of Paddox's face, and he looked less than happy, but when I lifted an eyebrow and looked at him, he didn't say anything.
Good. I would deal with him later.
"Where are you from?" I asked Skylar once we were in the car.
"I've lived here most of my life," he answered, glancing out the window, not interested in eye-contact, apparently.
"How did you get involved in this kinda shit?” I probed. “Bad home life?"
He shrugged a shoulder. "Just sort of fell into it. You know how it is."
I did know how it was, but I wasn't satisfied with that answer. There was something about Skylar that I didn't trust. Everything I asked him turned into a shrug or a brush off, and he wasn’t looking at me. It could have been just him being casual, but I didn’t think so. There was something else going on.
"How did you take down those guys that night?" I wanted to know, and I could see him fidgeting out of the corner of my eye.
"I've had some training in combat," he said.
Vague answer after vague answer.
“When?”
“A few years ago,” he replied, finally looking at me. His brows were drawn tight, and he seemed irritated. “Why do you want to know so much about me?”
I looked back at him for a second, taking my eyes off the road. “Because my brother might be soft and trusting, but I’m not. It’s a lot harder to lie to me. I can see right through a liar, and I know you’re hiding something.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” he said, and he seemed almost like he was pouting. Maybe I’d hurt his feelings by not believing him, but I didn’t care. I hadn’t gotten this far by being overly-trusting of strangers.
“Then why are you so interested in Paddox?” I demanded.
His face twisted into a look a disbelief, and he shook his head. “Has it ever occurred to you that he might just be worth being interested in? He’s smart and kind and interesting. Is it really so off-the-wall that someone might actually want to be with him?”
It wasn’t what I had expected him to say, and I blinked before letting out a short breath. “Fine,” I said, and dropped the subject.
If he was hi
ding something, and I was pretty damned sure he was, I’d get to the bottom of it. No one could lie to me for long without me seeing through it, not even this guy who had my brother wrapped around his little finger.
We rolled up to the first place I needed to go to, and I told Skylar to keep an eye out and keep his mouth shut. He looked like he was barely resisting rolling his eyes, but nodded to show he understood.
Good. At least he could follow instructions.
Whenever we got in a big shipment, there was always the matter of moving stuff that we had to worry about. You couldn’t just dump a shit ton of weapons and drugs on the streets and expect it to go well. That was amatuer shit.
It had to be more controlled if it was going to work out in everyone's favor. That meant it was important to have people in the middle, between the people on top and the little fuckers who were scrambling around to get their guns and coke or whatever. I had a network of pawn shop owners and petty drug dealers who got first pick of the stuff we got off the boats and then they took a cut off the top when they moved the product to the customer.
It kept our hands cleaner since we weren't directly doing the selling, and it kept the demand up since it wasn't as easy to get the stuff people wanted when we already had them hooked.
We had a big ass shipment coming in soon, and I needed my people to be ready. Sometimes they liked to get testy, asking for bigger percentages or trying to skim product when they knew they shouldn't be, so it always helped to have back-up, just in case.
Most of them were smart enough not to fuck with me, and I'd made enough examples out of the stupid ones that the ones who might have a problem usually kept their mouths shut.
"Tic!" Sam said as we stepped into his shop. It was a little shit hole in the bad part of town, but he was one of the best movers we had. "Good to see you, good to see you."
"Sam," I replied, barely glancing at him.
"What've you got for me?"
I kept it simple. The less he knew, the safer it was for me and my brother. He got the product, but no information about where it came from, and nothing that could trace it back to us. Even if he decided to squeal to the cops, he'd be fucking himself over before they ever got close to us.
It was a brilliant set up, and I was pretty proud of it. For years, it had been working to keep us out of trouble, and with the way I felt, the churning in my gut that warned me something big was coming, I had to be extra sure it was going to keep working.
"Shipment's coming in," I told him. "A big one, and soon. Make some room in your inventory."
We discussed prices and percentages, and while Sam was gleefully taking note of things, I glanced at Skylar. The usual lackies we had were bored once business started getting discussed, interested in the end results and if they got to fight, nothing else.
But Skylar was alert, listening to everything I said and everything Sam said back. He kept looking at Sam, glancing around the shop, like he was trying to make sure he remembered it, and I narrowed my eyes, taking note of all of it.
We moved on to another shop, and it was the same song and dance. I gave the information, the owner got excited, and Skylar watched us both.
That churning in my gut was there, and I knew I was right to be worried about Skylar. Even if it turned out he was just a weirdo or something, I needed to be sure.
I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to our IT guy. If anyone could find out what Skylar was hiding, it would be him. I told him to start digging and to let me know what he found.
Whatever was going on, I was going to get to the bottom of it before it could fuck everything up.
11
Paddox
Somehow it felt like I was always the one left waiting around when it came to Patrick. And now he'd gone and roped Skylar into it, and I was annoyed as hell.
It had been hours since they’d left, and Skylar hadn't called or come back yet. Patrick's meetings could be dangerous, and I knew both of them could take care of themselves, but it was rare that things ran so long and I didn't hear anything at all.
I was already antsy enough about Patrick and Skylar being alone together. My brother knew all kinds of things about me that he could tell Skylar to make him not want me anymore. Because he thought that was what was best for me or whatever. I didn't really think he'd try anything like that, but there was a part of me that worried about it.
Patrick was a pain in the ass, but he was still my brother. Still the person I knew better than anyone else in the world. If something had happened to him...
Ugh. I hated thinking about that. Especially with the way things had been lately. I'd been childish, dragging out my hurt feelings about the way he treated me and letting it fester.
He'd been trying to reach out, and I'd been ignoring him. I was trying to prove the point that I was an adult, and I didn't need him breathing down my neck and trying to tell me how to live my damned life. I still felt like that, but maybe I needed to get over and move on already.
I picked up my phone to call Skylar again, huffing a frustrated sigh when it went to voicemail once more. I waited to see if he'd text back, and he didn't, so I finally gave in and called Patrick.
Still no answer.
Whatever. It was probably fine. They were probably just wrapped up in something and hadn't taken their phones. Or they couldn't get to them. Or something.
It was all probably fine.
I needed something to take my mind off things, so I went to work on the painting I'd started a few days before, hoping it would work like when I was too angry and needed something else to focus on.
It didn’t.
My mind kept wandering to what might be happening, and when my phone buzzed on the coffee table some time later, I nearly threw myself across the room trying to get to it, sighing when it wasn’t either Skylar or Patrick.
“Hello?” I answered.
"Hey, Tok, it's Samson," came the voice from the other end, and I frowned, wondering why the hell the IT guy was calling me this late.
"What's up?" I asked.
"I've got the results of that info Tic wanted, but he's not answering his phone."
"What info?"
"He wanted me to look into that new guy. Skylar Phillips? I don't have anything for him, but I wanted to let someone know."
Of course he did. Of-fucking-course. I should have known Patrick was up to something, and I gritted my teeth, trying not to swear at Samson because it wasn't his fault. He was just following orders.
"Thanks, Samson," I said. "I'll let him know."
I shook my head, sitting back on the couch, seething with anger. Patrick was so fucking paranoid about everything, and he didn't know when to leave well enough alone. If he kept it up, he was going to end up fucking everything up, and he'd only have himself to blame.
I snatched my phone up again and sent Patrick a pissy text, telling him to get in contact with me ASAP. We had to have a talk. I was so fucking tired of him treating me like a child just because I wanted to have something good in my life that didn't revolve around him or the business.
I didn't know if it was jealousy or if he was just that paranoid, but it was getting on my last nerve. If he cared that much about me, then he should have been nicer to me and treated me less like shit, then maybe I wouldn't have to ignore him, and we wouldn't be in this situation.
I sat there, my arms folded, fuming on the couch for a while, but something kept coming back to me. Patrick was a paranoid motherfucker, but his gut instincts were pretty spot on most of the time.
When we were kids, he was the one who could always point out which foster home was going to be abusive. We could be in the house for less than an hour, and he would pick up on some vibe or some look the 'parent' gave us, and he'd know. He always knew before I did when one of them was going to lash out at us, and he was always the one who was there to patch things up afterwards.
He'd said he could feel a storm coming, and I hadn't been interested in listening to him. He was alwa
ys finding reasons to distrust someone, but he seemed sure.
Maybe it was just because I was sitting there with nothing else to do, but I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I called Samson back.
"It's Tok," I said. "You didn't find anything about Skylar?"
"Nothing shady, really. The only weird thing is he basically has no blueprint."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, like, you know how most people have a trail, right? Facebook posts, shit they put up on forums ten years ago and wish they could take down? He doesn't have any of that. No social media accounts, no nothing. It's like...like he was just created a few months ago or something."
I thanked Samson and hung up, frowning as I turned that over in my head. It wasn't as damning as it could have been, but it definitely raised some red flags for me. I mean, there were plenty of reasons why someone might not have social media posts, but I couldn't shake the thought that something was weird about it.
But I wasn't my brother. I wasn't going to just jump to conclusions without talking to Skylar first. I owed him that much, considering he'd never done anything to make me not trust him.
And on top of that, I didn't want to let him go. It hadn't been very long, but I could already feel myself falling fast and hard for this handsome guy who liked to listen to me talk about art, and I wanted there to be some answer other than he was lying to me.
I needed there to be an explanation.
12
Skylar
I kept my gaze firmly out the window while we drove back to the warehouse after a day of meetings. I could feel Patrick's eyes on me every so often, boring into the side of my head like he could crack it open and pluck out my secrets with just the force of his eyes.
All-in-all, it had been a productive day. I had a lot of good information to pass on to Kathleen when I met with her next, but I had to be careful. I knew Patrick didn't trust me. He'd basically said as much, and I knew he wasn't going to just let it go that easily. I was going to have to watch my back twice as well as I'd been doing before.