The Mylton Records exec shifted around where he sat in the front seat next to the driver. Dude wearing a suit and his blond hair perfectly slicked back.
Reeking of money and power.
He smiled. “Are you two ready for what awaits you?”
“Hell, yeah,” Shawn said.
Blue eyes shifted to me.
“Absolutely,” I answered.
Though I itched, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans as we twisted and turned through the city until we came to the sprawling fortress of a house just outside Beverly Hills.
The massive gate swung open at our approach.
Those nerves rattled.
Different this time.
Something uneasy shivering across my skin.
The Mylton Records exec waved his hand toward the pretentious house as the car eased into the sweeping curved drive. “This…all of it is yours. At your fingertips. Yours to keep. You just need to prove how much you want it.”
I swallowed down the disquiet, and I hung onto the promise.
All of this was mine, and every dream of mine was a dream of hers, and I was going to do whatever it took to give it to her.
Heart hammering, I was jarred out of the memory when my mother pressed the damp rag to my forehead, wincing as she cleaned my wound.
Gash right between my eyes.
Bullseye.
“I’m fine.”
She tsked through the harsh lights of the small upstairs bathroom where I sat on the toilet and she doctored me up like she used to do when I was a kid. “Don’t look so fine to me.”
I scowled, and that shit hurt, too.
I was a mess. Disoriented. Head aching like I’d been pierced straight through.
More than any of that, I was raging mad. Fury roiling through my being, muscles knots of aggression, cells overflowing with the need to protect.
There was nothing more I wanted than to pick up the scent of that prick and hunt him down.
Prey becoming the predator.
Because there was no doubt in my mind that coward had been sent to sniff us out. That they’d picked up a trail and they were desperate to find out where it would lead.
“Try to hold still,” she urged.
“I’m not twelve, Ma.”
“Well, you might as well be with the way you’re jitterin’ all over the place.”
“Someone was on our property. In the middle of the night. Asshole didn’t think twice to take me down, either. Think I have a reason to be on edge.”
She blew out the alarm she was trying to pretend didn’t exist on a heavy sigh as she continued to dab at the wound. “You didn’t get a good look at him?”
“No.”
And I sure as hell wasn’t about to tell her what I assumed. Was bad enough giving the vague statement to the sheriff who had shown up at our doorstep after Lincoln had called 9-1-1. I’d come to quickly and was able to refuse the need for an ambulance, but a cruiser had already been in route before I’d had time to talk Linc out of making that call.
My baby brother had no clue what he had stepped in on.
Disquiet shivered through my mother’s demeanor, and her worried gaze searched my face like she was looking to make sure her oldest son was still intact. Her voice trembled when she admitted, “I was terrified, Lincoln calling the house and shoutin’ that you’d been injured. Had no idea what we were gonna find when we went racing out the door.”
Her hand shook as she continued to clean the wound. Sorrow winding through her being.
I reached out, took her by the wrist, and stared up at her warm eyes. “Ma, I’m okay.”
My mother was the definition of care. So good and right. Tough as nails and as giving as grace.
Her graying hair was tied in a haphazard bun, and her green eyes the same color as mine were bloodshot from the tears she’d shed.
Knew she’d spilled too many of late.
Overwrought with the trauma of finding out what had happened to Emily.
“I can’t stand for another one of my babies to be hurt. I think we’ve had enough of that around here, haven’t we?”
In emphasis, I squeezed her wrist. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. I had it under control. Was probably just some kids out on the property who got spooked and panicked.”
Only wished.
Ma chewed at her bottom lip. “What if it wasn’t, Richard? What if someone came prowlin’ around here?” She cast a petrified glance at the closed door that led out to the rest of the bedrooms on the second floor. Finally, her gaze drifted back to me, sheer desperation written on her face. “What if someone is tryin’ to strike fear in Emily? Keep her from testifyin’ against that wicked man? I can’t…I can’t let anything else happen to her. With the baby…”
She trailed off.
Unable to say it.
Terror seeped from her pores. It manifested in the quivering of her bones. Like she was looking to me to see to it that she was safe. That I would protect her. That no more harm would come to her.
Not to her or anyone else.
Royce and I were going to see to it that remained a fact.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. That I let him get to her. If I could go back…”
Rage burned hot.
If I could go back, Cory Douglas would be dead.
But I’d been too blinded by my own hatred and agenda to even realize what was going down right under my nose.
She touched my cheek. “It’s not your fault.”
My teeth ground. “It is.”
It was the first time I’d confessed it to her, but she had no idea what it really meant. The depth of what I’d done.
Her brows twisted in knowing concern. “You hold so much sadness, my sweet boy.”
Regret clutching me in a fist, I forced a grin. “I’m just fine.”
Her smile was small. “Don’t even try to work your charm on me, young man. You might own a stage, all those women who go nuts at your feet, but your mama knows the real boy hidden under all that glitz and glam.”
No.
She didn’t know me at all.
Sorrow
