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I’ve gotta go. There’s a pretty girl waiting to taste my cock.
“The Billionaire’s Auction,” Declan says angrily like I should know. “I think it’s important to go and show the world that we, the Grayson brothers, are a force to be reckoned with in the adult entertainment industry.”
“Blah, blah, blah. This whole thing’s a joke,” I say, feeling irritated that I’ll have to spend another second with them outside of this meeting.
Declan’s getting pissed now.
We can barely be in the same room without fighting, and this is evidence of that.
“Okay, fine,” I nearly yell as I stand up to go. “Let’s go. I don’t care. Text me the address. I’m out of here.”
I walk out and don’t look back.
“Don’t be late,” I hear Declan say before the doors shut.Chapter 4Aurora
My fucking heartbeat is so loud in my own ears that I can’t concentrate. I fight tears, scrunching my face and squinting my eyes. As the phone rings, I just can’t drown out the thoughts of ‘what if.’
What if they tell me to come in? What if I have to ID his body?
God. I can’t fucking handle it.
Just as I’m able to get a hold of an officer at the precinct, the doorknob rattles. I whip my head around, and Anders makes his appearance.
“I’m—I’m so sorry. I have the wrong number,” I speak quickly into the phone.
I don’t even make a full explanation of my call; the person that’s been missing is now standing right in front of me. I accidentally drop my phone right to the floor as my body releases all of my built-up tension.
Anders stands before me, scruffy and gross as ever. He looks like he’s literally been sleeping in a dumpster.
“You’re okay,” I state.
All that’s on my mind right now is how I thought he fucking died just two minutes ago.
I don’t know if I should hug him, feed him, offer him a shower, or just start crying. I’m riding a roller coaster of emotions.
“Uh, yeah?” Anders responds in his usual condescending, doped-up tone.
As soon as the words exit his mouth, my overwhelming relief turns into anger and annoyance.
“Yeah? That’s all you have to say? Anders, I’ve been worried sick about you! Where the hell were you?” I demand.
God, ever since we lost Mom and Dad, I’ve felt such a compelling need to keep track of him.
I can’t lose him to some reckless shit. And I can’t have him getting locked up either. It’s been hard the past five years without Mom and Dad, and having to run the business with a strung out brother as my partner?
I really can’t handle much more.
I even have fears that he’ll be the drunk driver colliding with someone’s parents—just like someone did to us.
“You aren’t going to answer me, right? It’s none of my business,” I yell.
“It’s not that, jeez. Give me a minute to think,” Anders replies.
“I gave you time. Now I need answers. And the truth. The lies last time weren’t very appreciated,” I snarl.
I look him right in the eye the whole time we speak. I can’t accept what he’s out doing...drinking and drugging. I just want to remember him before he was introduced to drugs.
He had all types of girls just pining for his attention. He was the star of the fucking football team. But now, he’s at rock bottom.
And I’m down there with him because he’s sunk all of the company’s money onto his goddamn habits. My heart breaks for the family business Mom and Dad worked so hard to build, but it breaks harder for him when I see his sunken eyes and cracking teeth.
“Anders, I’m done waiting. You need help. You really fucking do. I can’t keep doing this with you. I’m exhausted,” I tell him.
“Why do you keep trying to butt into my life? I can handle my damn self!” he shouts.
“No, you can’t,” I retort. “And can’t you see that you’re affecting me, too? We have no more money. We’re wiped out, and it’s because of you!”
“Right!” he says eagerly. “When I came in, I had something to tell you,” he continues.
And just like that, any conversation of rehab and his addiction is over.
“Anders...” I start to say but he cuts me off.
“Shhh! Don’t interrupt,” he interjects. “This is going to work.”
He pulls a crumpled flyer out of his pocket.
“This is our new future,” he says, handing me the advertisement.
I read the invitation. There’s a billionaire’s bidding being hosted, auctioning willing virgins to sell their virginity. And what the hell do I have to do with this?
I feel my knees go weak as I realize his intentions.
“Come on, Rory,” he starts.
“Fuck, Anders! Trying to buddy up to me, calling me by Mom’s nickname for me isn’t going to make this better. No. I’m not fucking doing it,” I snap.
“But why not? It’s just one time. And we’ll get so much money from it. A billionaire’s auction? Do you really think they’d be cheap about it? No,” he explains, trying to convince me.
