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Loyal recalled her complaining her numbers didn’t add up last weekend when she was drunk. Made him wonder if she was having money problems. He also wondered if she’d bothered to hire herself a new accountant yet.
Maybe he could offer—
No you cannot.
Suddenly restless, he said, “Listen, I’m going to find Mom for the obligatory appearance, then I’m slipping out. You guys have fun.”
He gave a backward wave to the chorus of, “Night, Batman,” “Later, Batman,” and a “See ya, old man,” from Merit and rounded the corner of the house to make his way up the steps onto the patio as he drained the last of his beer.
A vampire couple blocked the top stair, so he angled to slip past them, then had to immediately dodge sideways to avoid knocking over a patio heater. The move slammed his shoulder into the back of another guest wearing a hooded cloak and a quiver of arrows.
Loyal instinctively reached out a hand to Robin Hood’s shoulder as he stepped back. “Sorry, man.”
The guy turned around, and any sense of apology flew right out the window when Grayson’s hard gaze met his.
“Watch what the fu—” He broke off and darted a look around. “Watch where you’re going.”
Judging by the dark glare, he’d recognized him past the Batman mask. So much for being incognito. Loyal dropped his gaze to fully take in his half-brother’s get-up. If he didn’t hate the guy so much, he might have found it funny.
Without another word, he turned to leave. Loyal hadn’t made it two steps before the obvious costume statement had him thumping his empty bottle on a table as he turned back around. Aware of the other guests within earshot, he moved in close and lowered his voice.
“Why didn’t you take the money my dad offered you?”
Grayson’s brown eyes appeared almost black in the shadows. “Because it was fucking guilt money,” he ground out in an equally low voice. “He wasn’t trying to help me. He just wanted to make himself feel better for not being in my life.”
Loyal considered that, then surprised himself by asking, “Couldn’t it be both? Or maybe it truly was him trying to help, because does he really have anything to feel guilty about when he didn’t even know you existed?”
Grayson’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t need Diamond charity.”
“You came to our house and asked for it.”
He leaned in and jabbed his finger into Loyal’s chest. “You know why I asked for the foundation money, so don’t go acting like I’m a charity case.”
“No, you’re just a noble sonofabitch, aren’t you?” Loyal shook his head, backed up a step, and spun around to leave back down the stairs so he could go straight to his vehicle at the stables. He was done. He wasn’t even going to attempt the crowd inside the house, and if Mom asked, the others would vouch for him.
“Are you going to do it?”
Grayson’s question made him pause, but he didn’t turn back. Something in his voice made Loyal’s automatic no stick in his throat.
“I don’t like this any more than you do,” his half-brother stated. “But we don’t have to like each other to help people who need it. The veterans deserve it—they’ve earned it.”
There was a rough emotion in the guy’s voice that overrode the resentment between them. It dug in deep and triggered a fresh wave of guilt and obligation that hit Loyal dead center in the chest.
“I’m still thinking about it,” he ground out before almost flying down the steps without looking back.
Mr. Torrez kept the outside stable lights dimmed during events to discourage anyone from exploring where they didn’t belong, but Loyal didn’t need light to find his spot. So many times over the years he’d escaped down to the worn, wooden bench along the side of the building. The tall, cone-shaped Arborvitaes on either side cast long shadows to ensure anonymity.
He skipped the dimly lit bench and leaned back against the brick wall in the dark. With the solid support at his back, slowly, he became aware the noise of the Halloween party had faded into the background. The peace and quiet away from the crowd soothed his raw nerves, eased the pressure in his chest, and finally allowed him to draw in a deep, settling breath of the cool October air.
Seconds later, movement on his left caught his eye and drew his head up. A slim figure in a black suit and mask walked slowly past the stables, then stopped. In the dim light, Loyal identified a Catwoman costume skimming the curves of the tall woman. After one swift appraisal, he let his gaze take a longer lingering look.
Leather covered her from neck to toe, but damn, that ass, those legs in those boots…her whole body was sexy as hell.
All of a sudden, his heart skipped a beat as he darted his gaze from the military-style boots to the dark curls streaming down the middle of her back. A moment later, she sat on the bench, pulled off the mask, and raked her hair back with her hands.
Roxanna.
His heart pounded with anticipation, though he wasn’t sure why after her parting shot a week ago. When she remained silent while staring toward the main house, he realized she didn’t even know he stood there in the shadows.
