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I don’t want Dimitri to have betrayed me, but I trusted him to hire this man, and now he’s dead. “Who is he?” I ask, running a hand through my hair. Most of the time, these contractors are men of various backgrounds, looking to make some quick cash. I’m hoping he doesn’t have a family that I’ll have to find a way to offer some sort of explanation to.
Dimitri matches my stress, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. “Brandon Kane. He’s one of Jackson’s.”
That name gives me pause, so I flit my eyes away from the man on the ground, blood soaking through his previously white shirt, and give Dimitri my undivided attention. “Jackson Holland’s?”
“Yes.” He nods.
As if things weren’t fucked already, now this? “When you say he was one of Jackson’s…?”
I don’t have to finish the question. Dimitri knows the direction of my thoughts, and he follows them flawlessly, offering me the answer to the question I never asked. “His son-in-law.” Dimitri confirms gravely.
“Damn it!” I hiss, curling my fist again. I need a target more satisfying than my drywall, but Wes is gone and he’s the one I really want to take this frustration out on.
Jackson Holland runs the most expansive private security firm on any continent. His loyalty is never given but rented hourly. Whether he hates you or loves you, he ensures that the jobs he takes are authentic experiences for his customers. For the right price, he’d be the devil’s own bodyguard.
The men Holland employs aren’t drifters, contractors, or loners. They’re men who have been trained extensively, who live to serve his company, who he trusts like family not to betray him. And apparently the one dead on my floor is literal family.
This is bad.
No, calling it bad is like calling the gash in his neck a superficial cut, when I’m pretty sure if I move the body, his head will barely hang on.
If—no, when—Jackson Holland finds out about this, I’m fucked.
I know that he sent more than one of his men here last night, so where are the rest of them? Why would they have ever let Brandon and Wes go off alone unless they were either so confident that Brandon could handle him alone or they wanted to sacrifice his safety?
“Where’s Michael?”
Chapter forty-one
Claire
The breeze today is gentle but persistent. It takes some of the heat out of the air despite the sun beaming down relentlessly, turning the ocean on the horizon into a glittering expanse. I stretch my toes, reveling in the feeling of peace rippling through me as I watch the water.
When I came downstairs this morning, the house was spotless, with all remnants of the night before gone as if it never happened. Elaine was nowhere to be seen, probably tired from single-handedly cleaning up the mess that got left behind after the last guests headed out. Feeling emboldened by figuring out her scheme, I got myself a glass of water and a bagel, no longer too afraid to eat, and headed to the patio to enjoy it in peace as the sun continued to rise.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been out here, but it’s been the most relaxing chunk of my vacation thus far. I’m not sure whether I should be salty about that, but I’m not. It just feels good to soak in the sun… so much so that I’m practically asleep by the time the patio door opening steals my peace.
I turn to find Rhea squinting into the daylight as if she’s personally offended by it. If I thought my hair looked wild this morning, hers puts mine to shame as she pushes it out of her face and ambles over to me with her eyes practically closed. She doesn’t acknowledge me when she collapses onto the chair beside mine, throwing her hands over her face and groaning.
“Morning sunshine,” I laugh, unable to help myself. I’ve seen her hungover more than I’ve ever been hungover myself. But something about this time is different… perhaps because it follows the wake of her father and she’s still trying to contend with what a piece of shit he was.
“No sunshine here.” She mumbles. The words are obscured by her hands, but I piece them together just in time to laugh again at her. “I’m a storm cloud today, Claire. Dark and heavy.”
Well, that peace was nice while it lasted.
I sigh, preparing myself to hear her lament her father’s evil deeds or something, but instead, she pulls her hands from her face and snaps her head toward me. “I slept with Dimitri.”
There’s something in her tone of voice that tells me it’s a confession of sin rather than a casual admittance to her best friend. Of course, she doesn’t know that I ran into Dimitri this morning . “I kind of gathered as much when I saw him creeping out of your room at six a.m.”
Rhea’s mouth falls open in shock as she stares at me. “Six a.m.?”
I nod.
“You mean he stayed… all night?” Rhea can’t deny the curve of her lips as she tries not to smile. It’s the first hint of cheerfulness I’ve seen from her this morning.
“Why is this a big deal? You sleep with lots of people.”
The cheerfulness from the second before disappears promptly. “Are you calling me a whore?” She snaps. It’s a little more frosty than usual, lacking in the teasing edge I think she was going for. I chuckle anyway.
