But I don’t have time to go down any rabbit holes with her.
Odette gives me a good talking-to about how long I took to get to her before starting on my hair. Somewhere between her washing it and sitting me down to twist it, Shawn shows up, having finished his shift patrolling the property’s gates.
Besides being a guard, Shawn’s one of my best friends, along with Mateo and Ryland. It feels like just yesterday we were running up the streets, but with Mateo taking jobs that send him from country to country and me killing all sorts of outside life this past year, we haven’t hung out as a group in forever.
But Shawn and I are still tight, and he likes to come around when he can.
“Ouch, Odie,” I say, wincing.
She’s still roughly running the comb through my wet hair. “Oh, quit being a baby. I have to make sure it’s detangled.”
“There won’t be any hair to do if you yank it all out.” I go to touch the sore spot on my head that she’s pulling, but pull my hand back when she smacks it.
Odette sighs in the dramatic way she does. “Shawn, why is he so whiny?”
Shawn is sitting on my dresser, leg propped back, leaning against the wall, watching. “She isn’t even combing that hard, Lee.”
A curly black hair floats down and settles among the scattered curls. “I’m gonna be bald.”
“Odette has to get you looking spiffy for your next acting gig.” He smirks, and I give him a deadpan look. He knows nothing about this is amusing, but the shithead enjoys my pain.
“How were the first few days with the Wright boys?” Odie asks.
My shoulders slump. “Uneventful.”
“C’mon, King. I know Rip isn’t a boring man who loves marketing businesses on social media,” Shawn muses. “Have you seen the biceps on that guy? The tongue piercing? He’s too scary to advertise for a living. I’m telling you, the dude has layers.”
Looks like I’m not the only one intrigued by Rip.
“Rip isn’t scary, only naïve. I don’t know how they worked in his other jobs, but somehow he got it in his head that he’s the boss of me.”
Odie’s frozen behind me, and Shawn’s mouth is hanging open, totally stunned. Yeah, someone trying to pull rank on us? Never happens. We don’t think we’re royalty, but since my parents own the entire property, it’s wild that anyone thinks they can boss me around, especially a random employee.
Shawn’s smirk broadens. “I told you there was something about him. What did you do? Threaten the innocent civilian employee with his life if he refused to worship the great King Beaumont?”
Shawn thinks he’shilarious. “I told him to stay in his place.”
“Did you say it as unconcerned as you did just now?” Odie asks. “Because if you did, don’t expect him to listen to you. There is not an ounce of authority in your tone.”
Jesus, she sounds like Dad.
When my sisters and I hit double digits, Dad began taking us along with him to “handle business.” We got a front-rowseat to everything from spying to interrogations to torture, and everything else short of murder.
They always said you shouldn’t witness your first killing until you’re the one dealing it, and my parents abided by that.
But everything else was fair game. It’s clear as day—the yelling and cursing our enemies tied up in the cellar endured as Dad and the others tried to get them to talk. The first time I saw the Crowncrest handle a hostage was when I was eleven. I can still feel my heart pounding as younger me hoped the captive would tell my family what they wanted to hear before they resorted to something worse.
Turns out, the yelling method is only attempted for a few minutes before they get fed up.
But Dad swore up and down the way to get someone to do what you want is by popping a vein, despite how miserably it had failed. I’ve never agreed, and it’s not only because I tend to be the calmer one out of my family.
Besides, do they know how goofy one looks when screaming at the top of their lungs? Pure comedy.
“Kingsley is trying to assert authority?” A deep voice booms from behind me.
I snap my head around to see him, but the comb smacks my head.
“Yeah, to Rip and Thomas,” Odie answers.
