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the moment.
“Yeah, but . . . Whoa. Scotch at this hour? What the hell happened?”
Dax didn’t know how to answer so he kept walking up the stairs and right to the room his mom had given Mad. The door was closed. It was almost too quiet at first but then he heard whispering. “I know you’re in there, Augustine. I don’t give a damn. I want the Scotch. Mad, you better not have drank it all or I’ll expect that replaced. This morning.”
After a bit of shuffling, the portal opened and Mad poked his head around the door, looking somewhere between wide eyed and worried as he passed over the crystal decanter and what looked like a clean glass. Not that it mattered at that point. “Uh, Dax, it’s early.”
“Like that matters.”
“It doesn’t to me. It does to my very staid and buttoned-up Naval captain friend. He doesn’t drink at inappropriate times anymore. He also very politely ignores the fact that I’m sleeping with his sister.”
“Hooking up.” Gus yelled from inside the room. “Sleeping with makes it sound important, Crawford.”
“She wounds me,” Mad said with a pout. “Give me a minute and I’ll get dressed.”
“Don’t bother.” He grabbed the Scotch and glass and strode off again. He knew exactly where he wanted to go and now he wished his friends hadn’t come. He needed to be alone, and there was no way they’d let that happen.
But they didn’t know about the balcony off the upstairs library. It was hidden by heavy curtains that no one opened because in the afternoon the sun heated everything up to a broil. At this time of the day, he could hide away and drink and think about the bombshell his mother had dropped.
He made his way to his hidey-hole and shut the curtains behind him before pouring himself that much-needed drink. He swallowed it down as he looked over the back gardens. He’d romped there as a child. He and Gus had played hide-and-seek and when their father had been home, he would chase them all over, calling them his little monkeys. He would catch Dax and his sister in huge hugs. He’d always felt safe in his father’s arms.
Had everything been a lie?
Had his mother and father begun their marriage with all the good intentions in the world only to see everything crumble? Would that happen to him and Holland?
He took a drink and slumped into one of two chairs that graced the balcony. This had been his quiet place as a child. When he would come home for the summer, he’d often hidden here when he needed to be alone.
He heard a rustling behind him and sighed because he should have remembered even back then, a certain sister of his had rarely left him in peace.
“Hey.” Augustine stepped out. She’d donned pajama bottoms and a tank top, sans bra, her feet bare and her hair all kinds of sexed up. From Maddox Crawford’s hands.
“Shouldn’t you go play with my friends? Gabe looked like he hadn’t fucked anyone today.” Dax was feeling mean.
Gus simply chuckled. “Wow. That was low, especially for you. What happened? Usually that sort of hypocrisy takes time. I at least get a ‘how’s it going, Gus’ before you start in on me.”
What was she talking about? He turned, watching as she sat in the opposite chair. “Hypocrisy?”
“Yes, Scotch-at-nine-in-the-morning guy. I called you a hypocrite. How many of my friends have you slept with? I’m betting given the fact that you’re still in last night’s clothes you slept with one very recently. What’s up with the tear in your slacks? Holland get a little rough with you?”
“It’s not the same. I’m serious about Holland.”
“Were you serious about my sorority sisters? Because you plowed through them.” Her voice dropped. “I’m sorry I called you a hypocrite, Dax. My feelings got hurt and I lashed out. You’re right. I’m not serious about Mad. The only people who should be serious about that boy are doctors who should try to solve the mystery of how he hasn’t contracted a sexually transmitted disease yet. We used protection, by the way. He’s not touching me without a glove. The trouble is, he’s really good in bed. And he doesn’t fall in love with me. All the rest of them do. That’s what I like about your friends. They’re realists.”
God, he hadn’t meant to make his sister feel bad. “I’m sorry, Gus. Though I would like to point out I’ve been way more circumspect about sleeping with your friends. I think Momma knows what you were doing.”
“Of course she does. I told her. She’s my mother, not some dried-up prude. Dax, I’m not married. I have a healthy sex drive. Well, I have a raging sex drive and I like it that way.”
“Just like dear old dad.” The words came out in a bitter huff. He hadn’t meant to say them out loud.
“Whoa, I can’t believe she told you about that.”
“You knew?” He shook his head.
“I figured it out a long time ago. I was here more than you were.” Gus hadn’t gone to boarding school. She’d put her foot down and told their parents she wanted to stay home, so she’d attended a nice private day school instead.
Sometimes he’d envied his sister. Mostly in the beginning because after he’d found his friends, he’d been happy to go back to Creighton every term.
“What gave Dad’s cheating away?” he asked.
“Dad would come home on leave and sometimes he and Mom would fight. He started sleeping in his office more often than not. Oh, he would tell me it was because he was working. That’s how I got used to bringing him his coffee there when I was home.” Her jaw tightened and there was no way she wasn’t remembering that last morning she’d brought their father his coffee.
“Did you know about the woman who wrote Mom?”
“After the fact,” Gus explained. “She told me later about that. And obviously we talked after Dad died.”
“But no one thought to mention it to me?”
“Mom didn’t want you to think poorly of Dad. You worshipped him . . . and you can be a little judgmental, as proven by your very dicklike actions this morning. You really think I’m like Dad? You think that because I like sex I’m hurting everyone around me?”
He turned to her, reaching for her hand. “No, you’re not hurting anyone. I’m being a dick, Gus. I’m sorry. I kind of got gut punched. I know what you’re doing with Mad. I’ve just seen how he can treat women.”
She raised a pale brow. “Quite well. I like Mad because he gives a damn about what a woman wants in bed. He has a reputation as a playboy, but he never lies about it. He’s up-front about what he wants and what he’s willing to give. All of your friends are. It’s what I like about them.”
“All of them?”
She didn’t even blush, simply reached over and poured him another drink. “Not all. Connor turned me down because he couldn’t sleep with his best friend’s sister. He’s a good egg. Do you have any idea how hard it was for a seventeen-year-old boy to turn all of this down?” She gestured vaguely toward her curves. “Gabe is too lean for me. Roman was fun. I actually liked him. We hooked up but that was a lifetime ago.”
“Not Zack, though.” Dax willed it to be true. “Definitely not Zack.”
“How do you think he got the nickname Scooter?”
“Oh, god.” He dropped his face in his hands. “So many things have gone wrong today.”
“Fine, not Zack. I was joking about that. He earned that nickname with a friend of mine, but I did hear about the incident.” She stared, her intelligent eyes boring into him. “Does it make you think differently of me? I’ve had about as many sexual partners as you. Why is it all right for you but not me?”
“Because you’re my sister.”
“Will you hate Dad now? Because he was your father and the people in your life aren’t allowed to be human?”
Dax felt tears stinging his eyes and fought not to shed the damn things. He hated seeing himself through his sister’s eyes. Maybe his mother had been right to keep the truth from him. He’d been viewing the world in black and white. A man was either a hero or a villain. Why
could he be tolerant of his friends’ foibles but not his father’s? “I came back to clear his name.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“I work with Roman and I’m ridiculously good at eavesdropping. Also, I’m good at spying. Mad sleeps like a log. I got out of bed last night and couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d peruse some of the porn on his laptop but I found the files. Then he and Gabe were talking earlier this morning. I think they’ve found a couple of things they want to share with you.”
His sister was kind of an evil genius. And she was the only person he could really talk to about this. And she was the one person in the world besides himself who knew what it meant to be Admiral Harold Spencer’s kid. “Should I give the investigation up? Am I just hurting Mom more?”
Gus leaned forward, her stare serious. “Do you think he deserves less because he cheated? I don’t love him less, Dax. I was angry for a while. Still am. But he was my father. He loved us. He sacrificed for us. Whatever he was like as a husband, he was a good dad. I can’t let his mistakes take that from me.”
Dax squeezed her hand, emotion rolling through him. He remembered all the times his father had shown up at Creighton unannounced. He would get some leave and drag the family up to spend a single afternoon, taking Dax and his friends out to lunch, to the movies. He would say he missed his boy.
His boy. He’d been his father’s son. What did he owe his dad? His father had obviously hurt his mom terribly, but did that negate everything else in his life? His mother hadn’t wanted a rift between them.
“Do you think he raped that girl?” It didn’t matter that the sex might have been consensual. Legally, the girl wasn’t old enough to consent. It was still rape.
“No, I do not.” His sister stood and walked to the railing, her shoulders straight. “I don’t believe he’s the man who appears on that video. I know it looked like him, but the camera never captured his face. Mom says he was into younger women. So I did some digging of my own after he was murdered. None of his mistresses—and let me be plain, I could only find three—not a one of them was under thirty-five.”
Then why had his dad suddenly chosen fifteen-year-old Amber Taylor? Unless, like Gus suspected, his father hadn’t actually been the man on that footage.
“Our mother has a skewed perspective about age,” Gus went on. “I know why and I’m not going to correct her. She’s entitled to what she believes, but I know the truth. Dad got lonely. I’m not saying it was Mom’s fault, but there are always, always two points of view, two sides to any relationship. I know she threw herself into being a mom after she had us.” Gus let out a long breath. “Each of those three women looked like her.”
Tears rolled down his sister’s golden cheeks. Damn, he hated to see Gus crying. He hated even more that he’d been the one to upset her.
Dax stood and wrapped his arms around his older sister. She was larger than life and so strong willed that sometimes he forgot she was fragile, too.
“I’m sorry. And I apologize for what I said earlier. You aren’t like Dad. Hell, I don’t even know what to think anymore. I only know I don’t believe the reports. I think NCIS covered something up or they missed key facts.”
“No matter what he did, he was our dad. Dax, we can’t let this stand. I need to help you. We need to find out who killed him because the father I knew would never commit suicide. Ever. He simply wouldn’t have done it.” She turned and cried against his shoulder.
He heard someone moving behind them. The curtains fluttered and Mad emerged, his face red from his fight with the voluminous fabric. “Damn it. I knew it was hiding something. Fucking curtains. Hey. Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Gus lifted her head and sniffled. “Of course you did, Mad. Interrupting is what you do best.”
“That’s not what you said last . . . Never mind.” Mad knew better than to finish that sentence.
His sister held on to him even as she rolled her eyes. “Give it a rest, Mad.”
His sister could handle his crazy, lovably douchy friend. She would take what Mad had to offer without needing more. He had to admit, Gus was a woman who knew what she wanted and at this point, she wanted to have fun.
One day some guy would set Gus’s world on its ear, and he was really looking forward to that day. But for now, he could have fun, too.
“Hey, sis, who’s better in bed? Mad or Roman? You see, I’ve always heard women say Mad was a little immature. I wondered if that wasn’t referring to his . . . technique.”
Mad scowled, his face turning beet red. “That is so untrue. In the old days, that would lead to a duel, sir. In fact, I think it should now. You have impugned my manhood. My dick is like the Energizer Bunny. Except more manly. And bigger. And without ears. The point is, I got stamina. And technique.”
Gus snorted and shook her head. “I’ll never tell. Well, not until I need the cash and then I’ve got notes for a book that will shock everyone. I’m going to get some breakfast. I seem to have worked up an appetite. Ta-ta, dearies.”
Mad pointed her way. “See. She worked up an appetite because I’m awesome.”
And humble. Dax hauled back and punched him right on the nose. Not enough to actually break the fucker, but Mad would feel it for a while.
“Shit!” Mad hunched over, covering his nose. His shoulders shook, but he stood up again and started laughing. “Okay. I probably deserved that.”
The burst of anger had left Dax’s system. He still had unresolved feelings but none of that was Mad’s fault—or anyone else’s. “Just keep it to yourself. I don’t want to hear you bragging about bagging my sister.”
Mad shook his head. “Never. Ever. Seriously, I’m more scared of Gus than I am you. She’s mean. Like seriously mean. And I won’t see her anymore if it really bugs you. I like Gus. There’s nothing serious there, but she’s cool.”
“That’s Gus’s business,” Dax allowed. He looked down, but suddenly he didn’t need the Scotch anymore. “And I think I’ll join her for breakfast. I worked up an appetite, too.”
“So you bagged NCIS last night. Nice.”
“I’m going to punch you again.”
“Let me rephrase. I’m very happy that you were finally able to profess all your man feelings to the lovely and proper NCIS special agent in a physical fashion. Should I have brought glitter so we could throw it around and show the world how happy and shiny you are now?”
“Fuck you, Mad.” But he said it with a laugh.
“I’m really happy for you, man. We’re going to lose you the way we lost . . .” Mad frowned suddenly. “Sorry. I was going to say Zack. It’s hard to believe Joy is dead.”
“Yeah. I don’t know how Zack deals with it.” If he lost Holland . . .
“Zack buries himself in work. He works from the minute he gets up until way past time any sane person would go to bed. I’m worried about him.”
“Really?”
“What? I can worry. I know I’m an irresponsible party boy, but I care about my friends. You guys . . . you’re my real family. My parents didn’t give a shit. I felt more comfortable here and at Gabe’s penthouse than I ever did at home. I’m living in the place where my dad kept his mistresses. I can redo the fucker all I like, but it’s not home. This is a real home. No matter what your dad did, at least he gave you love inside these four walls.”
“You were listening?”
“It was hard to avoid overhearing as I was being slowly digested by three hundred pounds of brocade. I think you’re doing the right thing. Gabe and I have been looking into it. Well, Gabe has been looking into it while I play solitaire, but he’s certain something’s going on. Do you ever find it odd that Joy died and your father was killed six weeks later?”
“Joy was killed by someone who was trying to assassinate Zack. I don’t see the connection.”
“That’s the funny thing about connections, isn’t it? You don’t always see them at firs
t. I just have to wonder what the odds are that you and Zack would lose immediate family so close together.” Mad shook his head as if clearing it. “But don’t listen to me. My brain is twelve kinds of fucked-up at this time of the morning. Come on. Let’s eat something. Gabe uncovered some stuff about the investigation. He’s got some leads we can follow.”
“Sure. I think my drinking is done for now.”
Mad waggled his brows and picked up the Scotch. “Thank god. I thought you would drink it all. Come to Papa. And don’t sweat the stuff with your dad. God knows mine was far worse. I shudder to think of all the damage that man did. It’s certainly not my place to clean it all up. But I will help with yours.” Mad frowned as he stared at the gaping doors. “Don’t let the curtains kill me this time.”
Dax followed Mad in. No matter what happened, he had his family. And Holland. She belonged to him now. Just because his
