Duplicity (Victory Lap Book 2)

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Duplicity (Victory Lap Book 2) Page 7

by Mercedes Jade


  Bastion’s voice was sure and steady. She wondered if the twins had watched the video already, knew what it contained. It didn’t sound like the message of a boyfriend that had been burned.

  “The twins were devastated. I know you understand the loss of a mother, even if yours is still here, because her illness takes her from your side when you need her. Be patient with them. They’re going to need reassurance when they find you.”

  The serious tone was abruptly ended. Bastion smirked, a tiny, sad little twist of his lips that still held the confidence she knew was trouble. He put his hand on his forehead, shoving his bangs up as he leaned a little closer to the camera.

  “I told them to keep their dicks in their pants. Kade’s coping mechanism is usually to hit something, and I’m sure in this case, it’s going to be your pussy. Keir’s been eyeing up your ass since his brother told him about your penchant for short skirts. I hope you fucking enjoy it. Personally, I can’t wait to get you in my bed. I’m going to tie you to it until you promise no more running away from what you want.”

  He backed up again, released his bangs, and looked up at the camera with hooded eyes. That was a bedroom stare if she had ever seen one. It smouldered, practically setting the camera on fire. The promise in those eyes was of a long night of slow, sensual torture that wouldn’t culminate until Bastion owned every inch of her, body and soul.

  “You are going to have to pay the devil for your sins, Kitten. And you know I mean Lucifer. He’s taking your desertion the hardest, keeping himself busy figuring out a way to fix this mess, and most of that involves stuff he doesn’t want you knowing. The twins are easy compared to War. He’s complicated. You shouldn’t have played with him if you weren’t willing to lose yourself. I would advise you to not engage in a battle of stubbornness with a Scot, but I know you’re not going to listen, and honestly, I’d rather enjoy watching the fireworks.”

  He smiled into the camera and the tension eased from his face.

  “Come home. Forget about feeling guilty or whatever silly embarrassment you have after the twins finish showing you their dicks. Of course, they measure the same, but they still wanted your opinion, I’m sure. We’re all gonna bare ourselves to you. No more secrets. You’re not alone. And we can’t be the Phoenix club anymore without you. Remember, no matter how grey it gets, every cloud has a silver lining.”

  The video froze on his smile after he spoke the last, optimistic idiom, a silly grin on his face that was more like Keir than Bastion. It made his blue eyes crinkle with laughter and softened his cheeks, although his bold nose still declared itself too distinguished for the humour of the rest of his face.

  She took a quick screenshot, feeling she had uncovered a bigger secret in that picture than anything Bastion planned to tell her.

  Underneath it all, they were boys in love with a girl. This was the story of how they met. A happy ending was waiting if she was brave enough to let them into her heart.

  Bastion really was a prince. He was about to battle for her affections.

  Sleeping dragons wake up ready to burn.

  Together they could win.

  4

  War

  Rattle the Gate

  “Hi, Tess-girl. How are you feeling?”

  War grasped his phone harder against his ear, reassured by the sound of Tess’s even breathing while he waited for her to answer.

  She was being driven by the twins and would meet him and Bastion at the airport. The twins had picked her and the kids up from a motel. The texts that War and Bastion had received late into the night were the only reason any of them had gotten any sleep.

  War had been on the phone with his Da making plans for their next steps before Tess had even left the motel in the morning. Now, he just had to make sure Tess came here, so he could carry those plans out.

  Bastion was practically breathing down his neck, trying to listen in on the conversation.

  “I’m okay. Better now. We’re going to stay at your house for a few days, at least until we’re sure my father isn’t hanging around the townhouse. Jacobson said you wanted us to be safe. Are you sure Ruby won’t mind? How did you tell her—?”

  “Tess,” War said, cutting her worried questions off. “Don’t worry. Mum knows you’re going through a lot with your mother and the kids. We have plenty of room.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. Although, Kade wouldn’t let me take the grand tour. We dropped the kids and Sneakers off, then we got back in the car again.”

  “We wanted to take you... somewhere to... talk,” War vaguely answered.

  Bastion was shaking his head hard at him. No sharing their plans ahead of time. They’d all promised to wait.

  “We can’t talk at your house?” Tess asked.

  “Mum’s there, and so are your younger brother and sister. We figured you might want more privacy for this discussion.”

  Silence answered him.

  “Tess?”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Is Bastion there?”

  “He is. Do you want to talk to him?”

  “Um... it can wait. Tell him... tell him that I liked the video.”

  Bastion smiled.

  “I’ll tell him. We’ll see you soon?”

  “Yes. Bye, Luce.”

  War took his turn at smiling after hearing his nickname spoken with such familiarity. All wasn’t as broken as it had seemed.

  It wasn’t five minutes later that both War and Bastion lost their smiles to impatience.

  War was good at waiting. Bastion was not.

  “They should be here.”

  It was said with more worry than accurate judgement. Tess had left War’s house only a few minutes ago with the twins.

  The airport where Bastion and War were waiting for Tess to arrive was small. It did mostly private transportation.

  War’s family jet was fuelled and ready to fly.

  It was at least a twenty-minute drive from War’s house to the airport. Keir was driving Tess’s family car, and even if it had been sportier, the twins understandably obeyed all the traffic laws since the accident.

  They would be precisely twenty minutes and not a moment sooner.

  Motorcycles might have been a bit quicker through the traffic, able to slip in and out of smaller openings to weave through a line of cars, but the twins had left them behind. Jacobson would arrange for them to be returned later.

  If the twins had gone home themselves, their father would have confiscated the bikes and grounded them. That would ruin the weekend getaway plans.

  War knew why Bastion was nervous.

  “Tess watched your video and she still decided to come, so whatever you said couldn’t have been that bad,” War commented as Bastion continued to stare out a jet window.

  Bastion wasn’t the only nervous one. Kade had refused to let Tess out of his sight for the duration of the trip back to town according to Keir. He’d insisted on sitting in the back seat with Tess’s hand in his the whole way.

  “I didn’t say anything bad about me,” Bastion snapped back, refusing to admit he was worried Tess would be scared off and run in the last minute.

  He was antsy because he couldn’t control her choices, only try to direct them. Control was a tenuous thing for Bastion, liable to snap if he pulled too tight. He had to learn how to properly hold the reins, especially with a spirited filly like Tess.

  “Well, lying isn’t a nice way to get a girl to like you,” War said. “It’s only going to come back to bite you in the ass. Unless you’d like being the one nipped. Do you switch with girls sometimes? Or other guys?”

  Bastion turned in his seat away from where he had been watching the airport entrance through the window. He gave War a withering stare that was an immediate shut down of even contemplating taking that idea further out loud.

  Definitely, Kade was more likely to enjoy an occasional switch, not Sir Bastard. War had the good sense to scuttle his rejoining comment about fillies and reins.

  “Mr. Stewart, wo
uld you like any refreshments served after takeoff?”

  War looked over to the flight attendant standing in the centre aisle. She was older than his mother, half settled into retirement after serving their family for many years. Working the sporadic flights their family took on their private jet gave her something to keep the golden years from getting tarnished, boring otherwise without her own grandchildren to spoil.

  Fate hadn’t been kind to Ms. Gladstone. The Stewarts were happy to compensate.

  “Yes, I’m sure our guests will be thirsty after their long drive this morning. No alcohol. Sparkling juice for the lady and we will take plain waters with ice and a bit of lemon. Please also prepare coffee, the strong Turkish blend I prefer, and heat water in case Kade wants tea. He likes green, loose-leaf if we have it. Else, a cup of Earl Grey with cream. What do you have for food?”

  “Caprese salad, smoked salmon, potato frittata with leeks and rosemary, and of course, your father’s favourite beefsteak. I can also heat up a selection of soups and oatmeal.”

  “We will let you know after the drinks are served. Thank you, Ms. Gladstone.”

  Bastion said nothing during the exchange. He was happy enough to let War be in charge when it came to their creature comforts.

  It would be another story when it came to Tess. War was surprised that Bastion didn’t express some sort of opinion on what she might prefer to drink.

  “They should be here.”

  War sighed. Bastion was still preoccupied.

  “It’s a twenty-minute drive. You still have time to change into a kilt before she gets here,” War said, hoping to distract him.

  Bastion turned his head to look back at War. This time Bastion’s eyes raked War’s kilt, like War was wearing drag and doing it all wrong: too tight and all the wrong bulges showing.

  War was wearing his kilt perfectly correct. His father had taught him. It was why War was wearing one to start with since they were going to see his Da.

  War wanted to request Da’s help on Tess’s behalf. There happened to also be business guests on the island and Da preferred he dressed the part of the Scottish son. It was like putting on a suit, conveying exactly what Da wanted his business partners to think about them.

  The Stewarts weren’t tamed and they paid homage to their country.

  War was comfortable wearing a kilt. Knowing how good his muscular legs looked didn’t hurt though, or the thought of turning his lassie’s eyes to him.

  “My kilt isn’t stifling at least. That suit you have on is going to wilt like yesterday’s flowers once we get off at the island. You should reconsider the jacket,” War said, taking his own anxious glance at the road leading to the private entrance to the airport.

  Bastion snorted a response that said War wasn’t a fashion judge.

  “Your father always wears suits if he’s not in a kilt,” Bastion pointed out. “I don’t want to give the impression we ran away from home, halfway around the world, just to beg his assistance with our kid problems. He needs to take us seriously.”

  War tapped his fingers on the seat’s armrest. He normally avoided asking his father for help. It was better to solve his problems himself, even if that meant he might stumble a little while learning the right path to take.

  His Da wouldn’t just offer him help. He would expect War to make an effort first.

  It was the businessman in his Da that pushed War to fend for himself, learning to keep the sharks at bay. Part of it could be his Da’s age as well. There was going to come a time when War wouldn’t have his Da around to run to when he got into trouble.

  The age gap between Mum and Da was significant.

  “I’ve never come to him about trouble with the law,” War said. “You told me to keep my mouth shut when the twin’s mother was killed. I kept my Da out of it. We used fewer resources than I would have access to otherwise to help the twins investigate the gang.”

  “We don’t want your father telling you to cut ties with us,” Bastion said. He snapped his fingers in front of himself. “You could be hauled out of the country like that if your father decided it wasn’t safe for you and Ruby. How the hell are you going to persuade him to help us without making him force you away from us?”

  “You’re right that Da has a weak spot for Mum. He also knows better than to test Mum’s temper by being overprotective, or making choices about where she lives without consulting her first. And Tess is a girl. Trust me, Da will want to personally handle the security for her if he can’t come here himself and punch her father in the nose for failing to protect his daughter.”

  “Think your father would give hers a bloody nose even if he was wearing his ten-thousand dollar suit?” Bastion asked as he leaned back into his seat.

  War caught the quick look Bastion gave the jet window again.

  “He’d wipe the blood off his knuckles with a silk handkerchief,” War said. “Except one bloody nose wouldn’t be enough, would it?”

  Bastion gave him a sideways glance. “You want a piece of Tess’s dad?”

  War steepled his fingers together on his lap, trying to stop himself from fisting his hands at the violent images that swept his thoughts.

  “Yeah, I want to tear that piece-of-shit father apart. What about you?”

  Bastion nodded.

  “I’d do it in front of his gang or in the bar, not some dark alley where nobody would find out about it. I want him to go down in flames in front of them all. No more hiding his fuck-ups behind dirty cops, wiping his ass with the paperwork like its royal fucking 5-ply toilet paper. He can flush money down the toilet but his shit will still reek. He ain’t the king of the streets here.”

  “He’s got his dirty fingers in a lot of money pots,” War cautioned. “Jensen is close enough to being a filthy royal of the gangs around here to cause us trouble. If we take down Tess’s father, we would be smarter to use it to seed discontent amongst Jensen’s followers, like an inside job. Fight with your head, not only your heart.”

  “Think we could make it look like a scramble for power within the gangs when we lay into her father?” Bastion asked, clearly not put off about having to modify his plans.

  As long as he got to pound the ever-loving shit out of that worthless excuse for a father, Bastion would let War handle the details.

  Hostile takeovers were more War’s domain. He was named for fucking battle.

  “Yeah, I’m sure we can make it happen. Problem is, we can’t have Tess’s father talking and ruining our set up,” War said, letting that crumb fall in front of Bastion on purpose.

  The scary grin that spread across his friend’s face was full of menacing promise.

  “Oh, he won’t be ratting us out. Talking is difficult if your mouth is wired shut for healing.”

  Tess would be uncomfortable if she overheard the violent plans they had for her father. War was sure she would agree he was a piece-of-shit, but he was still her blood. There were probably good memories of their family together mixed in with all the bad.

  Weren’t there always?

  Monsters like abusive fathers and spouses danced a jig between sorrowful regret, selfish kindness, and explosive rage. They blamed their fits on romanticized jealousy or the misbehaviour of their vulnerable family.

  As if children and a mentally-ill wife could be responsible for a grown man’s inability to love them properly.

  He wouldn’t forgive Tess’s father. War would hate and reject him on the behalf of Tess. Keep her safe without making her choose sides.

  His girl wouldn’t go back to the danger of her father’s jaded love. She believed her younger siblings were in danger, and rightfully so. Her protective mode would help them keep Tess safe, her healthy fear and disgust for what her father was capable of doing to his own children enough to stop her from seeking him out again.

  She’d been running from her father, not them.

  Tess would never know that her guys were going monster-hunting while she was sleeping a peaceful night under their wa
tch.

  “We’re going to need to arrange security at all times on Tess, and her mother—once she’s out of hospital—and the younger kids. When we go after Tess’s father, we don’t want it bouncing back to hurt them,” War said, already planning how he would propose the extra security to Tess without unduly alarming her.

  Bastion looked out the jet window again.

  “Ask your father for discreet guys. And they don’t need to be there at school if one of us is watching over her. Jensen gets one whiff of the protection you’re planning and he’ll know she’s our weak spot.”

  War sighed. “Yes. Are you going to tell Tess yourself that she’s the weakest link or are you saving that pleasure for one of us?”

  Bastion growled out something War couldn’t make out. He kept staring through the window.

  War decided Bastion’s protective instincts were blinding him to Tess’s strengths. Trying to wrap Tess in bubble-wrap without letting her have a say wouldn’t work.

  “She’s not weak. You bloody-well know that she’s a tough girl. Life’s been mean and she’s still standing no matter how many hits it dealt her. The twins and I agree that she needs to be in the know about what’s going on between them and Jensen. No more secrets—”

  “They’re here, at the gate. Some guys on bikes pulled up beside them,” Bastion interrupted, standing up suddenly.

  “Jensen’s?” War asked, not wasting time to check out the gate through the jet window himself.

  He followed quickly behind Bastion.

  “Don’t know for sure, but it has to be. Hurry!”

  “How did they find out where she was going so fast?” War asked with his own growl of angry disbelief.

  “You. Us,” Bastion spit out. “Her father knew the fastest way to Tess was through us when she took off. He must have been too late to get on her tail or whoever he sent missed her when she stayed at the motel with the twins. I would have tracked our movement, too, if I was him. He may be an asshole, but Tess’s father ain’t stupid. He’s high in Jensen’s gang for a reason.”

 

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