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Not wholly unexpected. When I had tossed out my last name on TV, I’d hoped for exactly this, especially knowing Simon was in the country. Made a potential ass-kicking that much easier. Because, of course, that was what Simon had c
ome for. His fighter’s stance and the way he was cracking his knuckles pretty much said it all.
I wouldn’t have expected anything less from my older brother.
Or anything more.
“How did you find me?” I asked when Simon didn’t speak, just glanced around derisively.
My back went up. The place wasn’t much, but it was mine. No one had handed me anything. I’d gotten this far all on my own.
Give or take a few bonuses for exemplary work.
But obviously, the place wasn’t quite up to Simon’s standards. Mr. Fancy Rockstar. Mr. Fancy Model. And here he was slumming in my cramped flat, with takeaway containers still stacked on the table and a days-old coffee cup congealed to the floor beside the board-like fold-out sofa.
“Never mind how I found you.” Simon waved that off as if the question wasn’t worth his time. “Let’s cut the shit and get straight to it. What do you want?”
Even though I’d braced myself, Simon’s sneer punched through me. I had a similar one on my own face after all, honed from years of making a study of my older brother. Simon was a success, and he had what I wanted.
Fame.
Money.
Women—or he had, until he’d chucked it all to get married. Simon’s wife was a smokin’ piece, I couldn’t deny that. The wife thing was unnecessary. Sex was plenty. Shackles? No, thank you.
Fame.
That was the most important thing. Because fame brought money, and money brought freedom.
No more being indebted to anyone. All ledgers even, all outstanding balances paid.
He also had a true family, even if he’d made it for himself out of his band.
And that wife you’d have no use for.
“What makes you think I want anything from you?” I gave Simon a pleasant smile. “Looks like you’re on my doorstep, not vice versa.”
“Barely even a step.” Simon shook his head and pulled out his wallet, shocking me into silence as he tossed a sheaf of bills at my feet. “This is it, isn’t it? You’re coming around to cash in. I’ll make it easy on both of us. You get paid,” Simon lifted his gaze to mine, “and get lost.”
“I didn’t ask you for a bloody thing.” I bent to grab the pile of money, fisting it for a second while my palm tingled.
What must it be like to be able to pull out that much green and fling it around as if it didn’t matter? My life would be so different if I had this much cash at my disposal. I could do anything I wanted. I’d be beholden to no one but myself.
But fantasies were just that. Another kind of make-believe.
“That’s more your mother’s style than mine,” I added, rising to throw the money back in Simon’s face.
The words stung as they were meant to. Not just him, but me.
It was never supposed to be this way. I still wasn’t sure why it was. How I’d come to this place.
Become this man.
Simon jerked forward and gripped me around the throat, his hands squeezing until spots swam and danced at the periphery of my vision. Swinging blindly, I drove my fist into Simon’s stupidly hard stomach and enjoyed a moment’s satisfaction when the bastard stumbled back. And then he launched himself at me as if he’d been sent directly from the depths of hell.
The punch to my jaw snapped my head back. This time, the spots encroached from all sides. I swore and spat out a mouthful of blood before giving back as good as I’d gotten, using my knees and fists to inflict damage.
To bring the kind of pain I’d shoved down for too many years.
