AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then again, who would’ve expected to find Troy Jordan fixing a fence on the beach in Florida? Come on.
He doesn’t speak for a while, and I wait, but I can’t stand it for long. Can’t stand the thought of him caught in a nightmare, feeling trapped and alone.
I gather my courage and poke him in the chest. Damn those pecs are hard. “Hey… Didn’t your parents have a car accident?”
He tenses underneath me, and I wish I hadn’t spoken.
Then he says, “They did. Drove off a bridge into the river. Died from their injuries before they drowned, apparently.”
“That’s a mercy,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m saying. As if I know which death is worse.
So shut up already, Ray.
“But if that’s what happened, why do I remember their bodies in a back alley? Why do I remember my uncle being there, holding me in his arms, and why do I keep seeing…” He grunts, rubbing his face on top of my head. “A symbol. A bird. And flames.”
“Bird?”
He snorts, his warm breath ruffling my hair, tickling my scalp. “Yeah. I know, right? For years I thought I was nuts.”
“You are.” I rub circles over his chest with my hand. “Totally nuts. I thought we’d established that.”
His heart has slowed a tiny bit, his breathing grown easier. “Yeah. We did.”
“I mean, you’re here with me. There’s proof!”
Shit. Can’t believe I’m teasing him at a time like this.
But he makes a strangled sound, which could be laughter. “Yeah, but that’s because I’m nuts for you, Ray.”
Awh shucks. He didn’t just say that. I tried to ignore the “I love you” he blurted out during sex because—sex. After a good orgasm or a bottle of gin, people say all sorts of things they don’t mean.
He’s not drunk now, and I’m pretty sure two hours of sleep have taken care of the post-orgasmic daze. Th
e words are on the tip of my tongue, ready to spill.
Love you, too, Storm. But I don’t speak, and he takes a deep breath to continue.
“My uncle took me in. He’s my closest relative, brother of my dad. He took over the enterprises, and we never spoke about my parents’ death. Ever. In fact, we rarely spoke.” He falls silent for a moment, shifts on the sofa, and my heart squeezes imagining him, small and hurting, lonely and not cared for. “At least I had the guys, you know? Hawk and Rook. I had a private tutor, as did they, and my uncle had me take self-defense and shooting lessons, but we met for other sports—horse riding, and polo, and sailing. All the shit rich kids do.”
I can’t help it. I giggle a bit at that—at his tone and choice of words. “You were a rich kid, too.”
“I know. But I always felt out of place. More so after I started getting interested in the company and realized how dirty the family money was. Blood money. Money from deals with the worst scum around. Everything just to make more. Take over more companies. Grow bigger. Expand more.”
“Everyone does that,” I whisper, not sure how to offer comfort.
“Not like my parents did. Like my uncle did.” His heart is racing again, beating against my fingertips that are pressed between his pecs. “At first it was only suspicions, doubts. The numbers didn’t make sense otherwise. Not legally. Deposits on the order of hundreds of thousands had come in with a standard ‘gift’ note from untraceable accounts. My uncle refused to talk about it, told me to shut it or else. When I refused, he locked me up for a week—no phone, no internet. Threatened me, implying worse could happen to me. I hated him.”
“But not anymore?”
“It’s complicated.” Another sigh. “See, about the time I turned sixteen, I discovered something else. I’d snuck into my uncle’s office, managed to shake off the security and everyone. I was looking for proof of my suspicions on the financial matters. What I found was… not what I expected.”
I’m afraid to speak and break the spell. So I clamp my mouth shut and just breathe in his scent.
“Found a letter, addressed to a company I didn’t know. But the logo… It was a bird in flames. A phoenix. It was signed by my uncle, and the symbol appeared again under his name.”
I blink, not sure what this means. “A logo. Of a company?”
“Not one that exists officially. I searched for it. But he had my computers bugged. He had me dragged into his office. He told me to stop searching. I told him what I remembered.” His breath catches, releases. “That I knew my parents were murdered before they were put into the car and pushed off the bridge.”
