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In her bedroom, it was more of the same. Everything in its place aside from the few stray items normal people left lying about. Especially if they were in a hurry. A sweater was draped over the chair and in the bathroom a tube of toothpaste lay forgotten on the counter.
On my way out of her bathroom, I stopped at the desk in the corner. Two giant monitors sat side by side, taking up all the space. When I wiggled the mouse, a screensaver with theCall of Dutylogo appeared, asking me to enter my password. The desk only had one drawer, and when I pulled it open, the few files inside slid forward. Apparently, my girl was religious about keeping her car maintained and had a manual for every piece of electronics or kitchen appliance in the apartment.
Shutting the drawer, I opened the trifold door to her closet. The top shelf housed old photo albums and a shoebox with a few random trinkets inside. About the only thing of interest hanging on the bar were the weird costumes. Jesus, this was Tweak’s wet dream. He could never know about her penchant for playing dress up or I’d wind up having to cut his balls off.
Thick carpeting muffled the sound of my boots as I walked back out to the living room, a set of bookshelves catching my eye. She obviously loved to read, yet she had brought no books with her.
Curious, I snagged a book from the shelf. Really?Single White Vampire. Though, I suppose this could be useful. If she had fantasies about being bitten, I would be happy to oblige. She’d look sexy as fuck with an indentation of my teeth marring her delicate throat. Just above her pearls. My palm ground against my cock as I adjusted my growing erection. Damn, I needed to get out of here before my dick made it impossible to jump or run anywhere.
I was about to put the book back on the shelf when I noticed the name printed along the bottom. Argeneau. I’d only seen that name one other place. When I googled Brandy’s name. Dean Earl Argeneau Incorporated was a failing IT company that had recently gone belly up. She’d never said who she used to work for, but it hadn’t been hard to connect the dots.
Finding a book with that same name in her apartment was a hell of a coincidence, and if there was one thing I didn’t believe in, it was coincidences.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, Cannon’s name lighting up the display as I looked down at it.
“Everything OK?”
“Aside from not being able to sock your brother in the mouth for being a total douche, I’m aces. Got my dick sucked in the golf cart while he played this morning. You were totally right, by the way, about the clothes and watch. My dick thanks you.”
If I had to kill my brother ahead of schedule because Cannon was thinking with his dick, I was going to rip it off. Slowly.
“Nobody saw you, did they?”
“Really? That’s what you ask after what I just said.”
He should be grateful he was far away from me at the moment.
“Congratulations. You got off. So did I. So did half the club, I’m sure. Now, are you positive Piotr didn’t catch you?”
His laugher filled my ear. “Please. I’ve been fucking around with girls in public since I was thirteen and haven’t been caught yet. Boy, for a dude who just got laid you seem awful tense. Maybe I should ask if everything is OK with you.”
The urge to reach through the phone and strangle him was growing stronger by the second. Not that he didn’t have a point. Ever since Brandy told me it was only a nightmare, I’d been on edge. Of all the lies she’d told, that one bugged me the most. Why would she want to protect the person who’d hurt her?
Maybe she feared what I’d do to them. She knew I was a predator. It was right there in her eyes—the uncertainty tinged with a careful kind of respect. The way one might view a panther. But there was no way she could know what I was capable of, that I lacked the ability to care about the things I’d done, or those around me. If she did, she’d have run from my bedroom this morning, not let me fuck her tight little cunt. Twice.
I’d hoped her apartment might give me some much-needed answers, because unless I resorted to torture, they wouldn’t be coming from her. She was going to make me figure out this puzzle on my own. A part of me even respected her for it, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t make her pay. No, I’d be taking out my frustrations on her willing body.
“Uh, Hunter, you still there, man?” Cannon asked, disrupting my wayward thoughts before they turned X rated.
“Yeah. The club is fine. We have church in”—I looked down at my watch—“a couple of hours. Anything you want me to report?” I added dryly, “Aside from a golf cart blow job.”
“Damn, I almost forgot why I called you. When we got back from the golf course, I was sneaking back into the house and overheard your sister talking to someone. I was going to mind my own business, I swear, until she said she would suck his dick. Before you get pissed, I was only going to peek around the corner to get a look at the dude. If she was sucking off a rival or something, that might be important.”
Fuck. It might not be Piotr who killed him, but me.
“Anyway, there was no dude. She was having phone sex right there in the kitchen. At first it was sexy, but then things took a weird turn. She started talking about your Mafia shit, what do you call it, again?”
“Braterstwo,” I said through clenched teeth.
I wasn’t sure which was more disturbing—knowing my little sister had phone sex or that Cannon had listened in. I’d let the fact he thought it was sexy go, otherwise Ryder would have to kick me out of the club for killing his little humanitarian project. Slowly and painfully.
“Yeah, that shit. She said she was going to laugh when her brothers destroyed each other over control of the Brat-whatever. Then a short dude in an apron walked in and started muttering about the quality of the potatoes, so she left the kitchen. Want me to keep tabs on her when I’m not watching fuckface?”
Bea was born into this world. She knew better than to run her mouth. That mistake, especially right now when our position within the Braterstwo was tenuous, could cost all of us our lives. And for what? To impress a paramour.
Did she not understand that if neither Piotr nor I survived she would be left unprotected? Bea was a Kowalczyk, a survivor, but she didn’t stand a chance in hell of holding on to the Braterstwo. The men would never follow her, at least not without a fuck-ton of bloodshed or a powerful man they trusted by her side. So, not only would our enemies be gunning for her, but the Braterstwo would also send a cleanup crew out.
That was why I’d made the arrangement with her that I had. To protect us both. Not only hadn’t she upheld her part of the bargain, but now she’d put me in a hell of a position with the club. But that wasn’t on Cannon to deal with, it was all on me.
