by Becca Steele
Self-loathing filled me as I looked at her. Yeah, maybe I’d been wrong about her working with her mother. Maybe. Probably. But it still didn’t change the fact that she looked just like her, with that long dark hair, those huge eyes, and the way she tilted her head…yeah, that sounded minor, but it was identical to her mother. My stomach lurched. How could I have been so fucking weak? I was no worse than my father, and because of him, because of her…the only woman that I’d ever loved, the only woman I’d ever cared about, was dead.
The unwanted, hated memory rolled through me, and I pressed my palms to my temples and closed my eyes, trying to block it out, but it was no use.
“Mum?” I banged on the bathroom door. No answer. I banged harder. “Mum!”
No answer.
Dread coiled in my stomach, and I pounded at the door with all my might. She hadn’t been the same since she’d found out about dad’s affair with that fucking snake. She’d become withdrawn, distant, shutting herself away from us.
“Mum!”
No answer.
Frantic, I hit the door over and over, until my knuckles were throbbing.
No answer.
Shit! What should I do? The only thing I could think of was something stupid I’d seen in movies, but at this point I was ready to try anything. I ran back along our hallway and took a running leap straight into the door, kicking out my foot with all my strength. I guess although the door was made of thick, solid wood, the lock was weak, because it burst open, sending me hurtling into the room.
I fell to my knees.
No.
No.
No.
She was lying on the floor, on her side, one arm outstretched and her bottle of pills spilling out on the floor in front of her. She looked like she was asleep, but her skin had lost all colour, looking like a waxwork version of the living, breathing woman that was the most important person in my life.
I stumbled across the floor, barely aware of what I was doing. I reached out for her hand and clasped it in mine, knowing it was too late as soon as I touched her.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
An inhuman scream burst from my lungs, and stabbing pain raced through my body, taking my breath away. I curled into a ball, still clasping her hand, my eyes squeezed shut, my brain going offline.
I wasn’t aware of what happened after that.
“Caiden!”
I opened my eyes to find my brother crouched in front of me, dripping wet, worry clear in his eyes. I realised I was sitting on the decking, my head in my hands, my whole fucking body shaking.
Fuck.
“I’m fine. I guess I drank more than I thought. Guess that’s my cue to go to bed.” I forced a laugh.
Weston eyed me cautiously. “Cade…” His voice trailed off as I shot him a warning look. He could say or do whatever the fuck he wanted, but I was never telling him what had happened to our mother. I wanted his memories of her to be pure, untainted.
As far as he was aware, she’d died of a sudden brain haemorrhage, and that was how it was going to stay. It was pretty much the only area where me and my dad were in complete agreement. My dad felt a sense of guilt—not enough to get rid of the bitch, but he at least cared enough about Weston to try and stop him feeling the fucking crushing failure and regret I felt.
Why hadn’t I done something sooner?
She’d still be alive.
I launched to my feet, turning towards the house, needing to be inside, and alone.
“Caiden?”
A pair of slim arms encircled my waist, and I saw red.
“Get the fuck away from me, right now. We fucked—that doesn’t give you the right to touch me. You’re the last person I want near me.”
She flinched, immediately dropping her arms, and I laughed cruelly, letting the hatred for her mother seep through me, filling me, smothering the pain of losing my mother.
“You’re nothing to me. You weren’t even a good lay.”
She gasped, and I cringed internally, because that was an outright lie. I hated admitting it, but fucking her had been the best sex of my life.
My dick needed to get the memo that it was never going to happen again.
I wrenched away from her, and from the guilt and the pain, and escaped upstairs, slamming my door behind me and flipping the lock before throwing myself on the bed.
Fuck.
My bed smelled like sex and a subtle scent of sugar and spice.
I couldn’t sleep there.
I pulled a blanket from my cupboard and slept on the floor.
EIGHTEEN
Morning. The first thing I’d done when I’d woken in the guest room, head pounding, was to check the door was unlocked. I wouldn’t have put it past Caiden to lock me in again. Thankfully, the door opened.
As the memories of last night assaulted me, I cringed. I showered as quickly as possible, and not even bothering to check my appearance, silently slipped out of the room and crept down the stairs, intent on leaving before anyone else made an appearance.
I made it to the front door without incident and reached to open it, but before I could make my escape, arms came around me, pinning me in place.
“Not so fast,” a low voice hissed in my ear. “Where do you think you’re going?”
A chill went through me at Zayde’s threatening tone, but I steeled myself.
“Let go of me. King Caiden made it clear last night that he didn’t want me here.”
His laugh somehow managed to sound dark and sinister. “Oh no, sweetheart. You’re not getting away that easily. Let’s make one thing clear. I believe you’re not working with your mother, but I still don’t trust you. Trust needs to be earned.”
With that comment, he disappeared, just as silently as he’d arrived, and I was left by the door, staring after him.
I sighed. He was right, in a way. If I didn’t share this file with the Four, didn’t explain my reasoning for suspecting my mother had a hand in my father’s death, how could I expect them to just blindly trust me? They needed to see the evidence for themselves and come to their own conclusions. Mind made up, I headed towards the kitchen.
After a silent breakfast, during which only West was present, I entered the spy room, as I was calling it. The one with all the computers and camera feeds. I was in a bad mood, still pissed off about Caiden’s behaviour towards me, to be honest. I’d been worried about him last night, and I’d acted on instinct, trying to provide comfort. But as soon as I’d gone to him, he’d made it perfectly clear that sleeping with me had been a mistake.
So, as far as I was concerned, we were back to normal. Normal, meaning I’d have to ignore his hateful glares and asshole behaviour, unless a miracle somehow occurred.
Weston directed me to a large leather office chair, and I amused myself by spinning around in it while I waited for the others to turn up. My whirling trajectory was suddenly halted by Zayde, who silently appeared in the room and stopped me with a hand on the back of the chair.
I pouted at him for ruining my fun, and he gave me an amused smirk.
Taken aback by the contrast in his behaviour from earlier that morning, I gaped at him but recovered quickly. “Why, Zayde, was that an actual smile?” I raised a brow.
“From Z? Never.” Cassius strode into the room and took the other chair next to mine, and Zayde leaned against the desk, his face already back to its usual impassive mask. “Morning, babe. How’s your head?”
“Fine. Ish. More importantly, how’s yours?”
“All good, thanks. I’m touched by your concern for me.”
I laughed. “Always. I’m thinking Kins will have the worst head this morning, out of all of us.” After all the shit with Cade, I’d been pissed off and agitated enough that doing shots with Weston and Kinslee had seemed like a great idea. Kinslee had also finished up the Prosecco (which had turned out to belong to a very unimpressed Jessa), and then West had ordered an Uber for her, while I’d stumbled up to th
e guest bed, my head swimming.
The last I’d heard from Kinslee, before sleep claimed me, was a drunken rambling text saying she was back at home, and she’d had the best night ever, and then waaaay too much information on West’s dick. Thanks, Kinslee.
To be completely honest? I’d wanted to leave with her the night before, still upset about the way Caiden had acted towards me, but Weston had convinced me to stay, telling me I’d regret it if I didn’t. He’d insisted that if I wanted answers, I needed the help of the Four. In my exhausted state, I hadn’t taken much persuading.
This morning, though, I was full of doubts.
The door opened and Caiden walked in, dark circles under his eyes, avoiding my gaze. Cassius stared between the two of us, confusion all over his face, as the tension in the room ratcheted up by about a thousand notches. Of course—he’d disappeared before Cade had insulted me and stormed off.
What the fuck? Cassius mouthed at me. I shook my head at him, trying to convey to him that now wasn’t the time or the place. He heaved a heavy sigh and glanced back at Caiden.
“You don’t look too good, mate. Here, take my seat.” Cass jumped up and moved across to me, pulling me out of my chair. That mischievous glint in his eye…I had a fairly good idea of what was coming next.
“You can sit on me, beautiful.” He collapsed into my chair and patted his thigh.
“No.” Caiden’s voice rang out, startling me.
Every single head turned towards him.
“Where’s the fucking popcorn when you need it,” I heard Zayde comment under his breath.
“No? Why not, huh?” Cassius stared at Caiden challengingly, and Caiden stared straight back, unblinking.
For fuck’s sake.
“Caiden, can I have a quick word with you?” I eyed him cautiously. “Please,” I added. I walked to the door and out into the hallway, hoping he’d follow me. Leaning against the hallway wall, I waited.
A few moments later he slipped out of the room and came to a stop in front of me. His expression was shuttered, but I saw the muscle ticking in his jaw, and his clenched fists.
“What was all that about?” I kept my voice soft and quiet, trying not to provoke him. “Do you have an issue with me and Cass?”
“There is no you and Cass,” he said roughly, planting his arms either side of me so he was all up in my personal space. Again.
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“Well, I’m afraid that’s not a good enough reason.” My body was reacting to his proximity, shivers running down my spine and my heart beating faster, and I closed my eyes briefly, trying to regain control.
I could feel his hot breath on my ear as he leaned even closer. “You’re not his.”
“I’m not yours, though, right? You made that pretty fucking clear last night.” I let some of my anger over his behaviour bleed through into my tone, but my voice still sounded breathy and lustful, even to my own ears.
“No. You’re not. How many fucking times do you need to hear it?”
“So you don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, is that it?”
He looked at me silently for a moment, then shrugged, a quick, jerky movement. He lowered his thick lashes, his gaze darting to my mouth as I bit my lip, thinking hard. Should I say it? Fuck it. It’s not like I could make things much worse between us.
“You want to know what I think?” I waited until his eyes met mine before I continued. “I think you do want me. I think you’re lying to yourself.” I slid under his arm and stalked away from him, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back.
“What?” I snapped, my patience finally running out.
“Stay the fuck away from Cassius.”
“He’s my friend. Unlike you, he can actually admit that he enjoys spending time with me.”
He laughed darkly, his grip on my arm tightening. “Don’t flatter yourself, Snowflake. He’d drop you in a second if I wanted him to.”
“Whatever you say.” I sighed. “Look, as low as your opinion is of me, I have no desire to cause trouble between the two of you. But maybe you should look at why you have such a problem with me and him.” I shook off his arm, and this time he didn’t stop me.
“Great talk. Really productive,” I muttered to myself as I re-entered the room, Caiden on my heels.
“Enough fucking time-wasting. Let’s get down to business,” Zayde commanded, and I nodded. This conversation was over, for now, and we had more important things to worry about.
Sinking into the empty chair at the desk, I picked up the manila folder I’d left there. The Four crowded around me, peering at the contents.
“Right. There’s not much to go on, but this is all I have.” I spread out the papers in front of me. “There’s the Alstone Holdings printouts—all generic information that you could easily find online.” I indicated the sheets that I’d placed together with a paperclip.
“Then, we have this photo of my mother. I don’t know if it means anything to any of you?” I handed the image to Zayde. It was a grainy, blown-up image in black and white. She was sitting at a table, partially obscured, and I could see a man’s hand but hadn’t been able to glean anything useful from it.
“Give it here.” Zayde handed the picture to Weston, and he wiggled the computer mouse next to me, the screens coming to life. He walked to the corner of the room and opened the lid of a scanner, then started tapping on the computer keyboard.
“Should be ready in a few.” I tuned out as he began talking about image processing software, staring blankly at the screen as various boxes and lines of writing flashed up and disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared.
“Done. The software should have enhanced the image for us. I’m hoping it makes it a bit clearer.” He clicked the mouse a few times, and the picture appeared on the huge computer monitor directly in front of me, much sharper and clearer than the original.
“Ooh, that’s impressive,” I told Weston, and he grinned proudly.
“Yep. I’m amazing.”
Turning back to study the screen, I noticed more details I’d missed originally.
“West, can you zoom in there?” I pointed, and he nodded. As he zoomed, I gasped. “I completely missed that before. Look.”
The hand of the man sitting at the table with my mother was far easier to see now.
The tip of his little finger was missing.
“Littlefinger.”
I glanced over at Weston and raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“You know, in Game of Thrones? That could be his code name. I mean, that’s what we can call him.”
“Littlefinger wasn’t called Littlefinger for that reason. All his fingers were intact,” Cassius argued.
“Whatever, still works.” Weston shrugged.
“Not really. What about what’s-his-name? Theon? He had his dick cut off.”
“A dick is not the same as a finger.”
“Didn’t say it was, did I?”
“Please. Can we just get back to the task?” I begged, drumming my fingers on the table. “Let’s agree to call him Littlefinger for now; since West said it, it’s kind of stuck in my head.”
“Fine. I’m picking the next code name, then,” Cassius muttered.
Seriously. I rolled my eyes.
“Anyway. If you’ve finished pretending you’re James Bond or whatever, assigning code names to people. Does anything about this picture mean anything?”
Caiden moved closer to the screen, leaning his arm on the back of my chair. I shivered as it brushed along the back of my neck. “Something about this place rings a bell. What’s that symbol there? Zoom in.” We watched as the blurry shape on the window at the back of the picture grew bigger, but it was difficult to make it out.
“It almost reminds me of a crown or something,” I mused, squinting at it.
“That’s it! You genius!” Caiden fist pumped the air, his voice triumphant. I was so shocked by the unexpected compliment I
froze, then smiled to myself. Bet he hadn’t meant to compliment me.
“The Crown and Anchor?” Zayde spoke.
“Yeah, that’s it. The one in Highnam. West?”
“Already on it.” The screen next to the one we were looking at lit up, and Weston began typing.
“Highnam?” I murmured to Caiden.
“Yeah.” He leaned a little closer to me. “A town about half an hour away. There’s not much there, but there’s a hotel.”
“Oh.” I sat, watching as Weston pulled up the website.
“No pictures of the interior, but look. That’s the same symbol.”
Caiden’s finger brushed against the strands of my hair and moved to touch the back of my neck. I hardly dared to breathe.
“Let’s start a list,” Weston suggested. “First item—check out the hotel.”
“We need to be careful not to be spotted. We don’t want anyone getting suspicious.” Caiden’s voice was firm. He drew tiny, slow circles on the back of my neck with his finger. Goosebumps erupted all down my arms, and my breath hitched.
“I agree. What if I go with James, or Kinslee, like for a drink in the bar or something?” I somehow managed to sound normal.
His finger stilled. “No fucking way. Not Granville. And I don’t want you and Kinslee going near there without one of us, not until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“Yeah. If it was important enough for your dad to take a photo, enlarge it, and include it in this file, then we need to proceed with caution,” Cassius added.
Caiden’s finger resumed making lazy circles on my neck, and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was looking straight ahead at the screen, seemingly completely focused, but he continued to draw patterns on my skin as the boys discussed the best way to proceed. As much as I was loving it, I really wished he wouldn’t blow so hot and cold with me. I was starting to get whiplash.
Not that I’d stop him.
Okay, concentrate. Forget how good Cade’s touch feels. Think about why you’re here.
A thought occurred to me, and I interrupted the discussion. “West? Do you want to scan the notes as well? It might be easier if they’re all up on the screen.”