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trees was one of the small treasures of life. Its crisp, sweet juice was ready for my tongue as I rode off into the sunset.
After meetings with this man, of course.
Ashton would probably have my head if he knew I was actually picking fruit from his apple trees.
I pulled up to the bottom of the porch steps and killed the engine of my bike. With the kickstand down and my leg swung over, I started up the steps to the white wraparound porch. Such an innocent design to this house. And yet, it had held so many tortures over the years. I knew there was a basement to this property, but I didn’t dare go into it. Or ask to see it. Lord only knew the kinds of things Ashton kept down in that place. Especially out here. In the middle of nowhere.
No one could hear you scream in that basement.
The cherry mahogany door greeted me. But I didn’t have a chance to use the wrought iron knocker on it. The second I stood in front of it, the door eased itself open. It creaked to life, sending another cold chill down my spine. And as the man attached to that Australian accent ushered me into the massive foyer, I slid my hands into my leather jacket pockets.
I had easy access to my brass knuckles, just in case.
“Mr. Ryddle will be down soon,” the man said.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
Ashton insisted the man not have a name. Every time I tried to introduce myself, or get his name, Ashton butted in. As if his personal staff wasn’t allowed to have an identity behind these walls. It made me sick. Sure, Ashton paid his staff well. Hell, he paid all of us well. But that payment came at a price.
For his staff, it was their identity.
For us? It was our souls.
“Max.”
I slowly looked up toward the top of the steps, watching as he walked down them, his hand lingering on the shining, wooden banister. His footsteps were even and silent. His eyes burrowed into me as an emotionless smile slipped across his cheeks.
“Dad,” I said.
“Walk with me. I have a contract for you and your boys.”
He motioned for me to follow him and I looked over at the man in the suit. The Australian. The man with no name, and probably no soul, either. He had his hands locked behind him and stared straight ahead. Right by the door, in case anyone else showed up. I wondered if he ever moved from that position. If he ever flinched when my father dragged a hopeless soul through those doors. I wondered about all the atrocities he had seen at my father’s hands. Ashton’s.
Damn it, I hated calling that man my father.
“Max!”
“Coming.”
My eyes diverted away from the Australian and I jogged after him. My father’s swift footsteps didn’t so much as click across the floor. I caught up with him down the hallway, where pictures of empty eyes and empty smiles hung on the walls. Not family pictures, of course. We didn’t have those growing up. There wasn’t a picture of myself, nor Josh, nor our father on these walls. Nope. My father bought the frames at exorbitant prices, then put other family pictures in them. People I didn't recognize. People I’d never seen during my life. At first, I thought maybe they were the stock photos that came with the picture frames themselves. Random people in color as well as black and white. But, over time, I had come to a new theory.
These were the families my father had destroyed with his disgusting ways.
Fucking hell.
“Thirsty?”
I watched Ashton pour us each a drink into a crystal glass. I walked into the lounge and the door closed behind me, almost automatically, as if it had been waiting for me to cross over. I didn’t turn around, though I wanted to. This entire place gave me the fucking creeps. And I had been to some shady places and done some very shady things in my life for the kind of money Ashton doled out to us.
“Here. You look like you could use one.”
I took the glass from him. “Thanks.”
He sipped his amber liquid and eyed me carefully. My father did that with everyone. Even when my brother had been in the hospital a few years back, fighting for his life, Ashton studied him as if he were a project. As if my brother wasn’t the fruit of his own loins. Ashton was one of the many reasons I had sworn off ever having a family of my own. I didn’t want to bring anyone else into the world who could possibly be related to this man. To this terror. To the insanity my father brought to this earth.
I kept my ears peeled for anything shifty as I kept my eyes locked on Ashton.
My father.
