Page 76 of Sexy

There is no mistake who these two people are to him. It’s written all over their happy smiles.

Fletcher Novak has a family.

I run back to the guardhouse, burst through the gate, and then yell at the guard, “Can you tell Mr. Silverman I had an emergency and had to leave?”

I don’t wait for an answer. I just run all the way back to the cab, get in, slam the door, and say, “Take me back to the hotel.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Hey, Sea Shells, when we going to the Seychelles?”

Shelly laughs that little eight-year-old laugh that picks me up and makes my day every time. She’s in love with the tongue-twisters. I have to shake off a mental image of me holding a shotgun at the door when her first boyfriend comes knocking—trying to twist his way into her life like the words that are twisting out of her mouth.

“I can’t say it!” She giggles, still trying as she hugs my waist.

I pat Shelly’s head and then look up to Samantha. “How’d your week go?”

Her smile is fake. I’ve known her since she was fourteen, so I can tell. She swallows hard. “Walker called a little while ago.”

Fucking hell. With all the shit going on, I’d forgotten about my piece-of-shit older brother. “What’d he want?” I growl. But I know what he wants.

Sam shrugs. “Just to talk, I guess.”

I squint my eyes at her. “You talked to him?”

“I hung up on him. I can’t do it again, Fletch. I’ve been over and over it in my mind and we didn’t do anything wrong. Walker and I broke up.” She looks up at me, pleading. “You and I didn’t do anything wrong. Right?”

I pull her in close for a hug. “Of course not. Forget about him.”

“He says he’s coming over. Says he’s got things to say. Things he’s been wanting to say for a long time now. But I told him you weren’t coming home today.” She looks up with watery eyes. “He didn’t believe me.”

“Did you tell him about—” But I don’t have time to finish, because I can hear the rumble of the car he’s been driving since he got his license. A twin of my own nineteen-sixty-nine Camaro, but in blue, and received one year earlier. Our grandfather was a collector and we each got our pick the day we turned sixteen.

If he took the blue, then I’d take the red. It’s always been like that with Walker and me. One-upmanship. Jealousy. And rage. We were competitive to the end. But the end came sooner rather than later. And I stayed when he left. I got Sam and then, later, Shell. And he got… well, I have no idea what he got. I hadn’t seen him in almost a decade before last week. But whatever it was, he came out on the wrong end of that deal.

“Where are the Seychelles, anyway?” Shelly asks, tugging on my shirt sleeve. “And when can we go there?”

“Indian Ocean, Shells. Go inside with your mom. I’ll be just a second.”

Samantha nods and takes Shelly’s hand. “Come on, baby. Let’s get lunch ready.”

“I’m starving,” Shelly says, as they walk up the front steps of the eight-thousand-square-foot beachfront mansion. It’s the biggest house on this end of Lakeshore. Been in the family for three generations. And it’s mine now. Everything in there is mine now.

Walker slides his sunglasses up his forehead and opens the car door.

“Don’t come any further, asshole.”

The pause is short-lived, and a second later he steps out anyway. I knew he would, but I figure he deserves a warning. And that one sentence was all he’s getting.

He’s wearing clothing that gives him the appearance of acceptable. White dress shirt, sleeves casually rolled up his forearms. Tight black slacks tailored for his athletic form. And fancy leather shoes that could probably put Shells through a year of community college. He looks well-bred and rich. And I guess he is. I guess we both are. But some of us just know how to wear that good breeding better than others.

My fists are clenching before he takes his first step on the stone-paved driveway and my feet are in motion before he takes the next one. “I’m warning you, Walker.”

He holds his hands up, palms out, to calm me or piss me off, I’m not quite sure. “I’m not here to start trouble, Fletch.”

“The fuck you’re not. Why come here then? You need money? I don’t have any left over for you. You need somewhere to stay and you figure this place is your home? You’re wrong, brother. I bought you out and I will kick you out. I don’t care if you’re sleeping in your car at the state park tonight. You’re not walking into my house.”

He lets off a fake sigh. I’ve known him a lot longer than Sam, so I peg that fake shit right out of the gate. “I just want to talk to her, man. That’s it.”