Stay Toxic

Chapter 25

One of the reasons I was afraid to broach the subject of my issues with Mother with Caleb was a fear that he’d want to confront her more than help me. I shouldn’t have been surprised he didn’t even consider that approach.

Our grandfather has tons of pride, and he doesn’t know our mother very well, but Caleb grew up until the same roof as me, if at a different time. Naturally, he’d get my predicament.

No, my best bet with her is to play her game, but as another player rather than a simple pawn on the board.

Monday morning, I take a selfie of the new hairdo, and post it on my main social.

I”m downright giddy for the rest of the day, especially when I ignore another phone call from Senator Cole. And another one right after that. I put my phone on silent with a smirk.

I”ll speak to her Saturday morning during our scheduled chat and not a minute sooner.

As promised, Caleb transferred five grand to Tanya, and she hands it to me in cash on our lunch date. I hand her her two hundred and fifty, and pocket the rest.

”I knew he”d come to the rescue,” she coos. ”He has the whole prince charming thing going on.”

I snort. She”s not the first of my friends to have a crush on my brother. ”Gross.”

”Well, you have to think so, don”t you? He”s your brother. But trust me, to the rest of the world, he”s hot. Did he help with André, too?”

I shake my head. ”I didn”t ask him to. I mean there”s a difference between helping me out and paying six figures per year for me. And I”m not even sure he can afford it.”

Even the five grand he sent were probably too much. It”ll last me a good long while.

”Oh, trust me, he can.”

I lift an eyebrow. ”What makes you say that?”

”One second.” She types away on her phone, before finding what she”s looking for, and handing it to me.

She”s brought up a New York Times article about the newest bachelors joining the ranks of the people with the highest net worth in the state, and sure enough, I”m staring at a highly flattering picture of my brother, wearing his trademark smirk and a well-tailored suit as he sits behind an imposing desk.

”Wow.” I blink several times. ”Not that it changes anything. I”m not his kid. Nor is André.”

”Well, André isn”t your kid either,” Tanya reminds me. ”He”s your half brother, and Caleb”s half brother, too. Opening up about that issue might work.”

I nod, but honestly, I already feel like I”m taking way too much. He”s out on his own—has been since he was eighteen. And here I am, twenty-two, and completely dependent, first on my mother, now on him. Handling André is the least I can do, isn”t it?

”I know I already said it, but I love your hair,” Tanya gushes again. ”You”ll have to tell me where Mrs. Stewart works.”

”Lauren. And I don”t know, actually.”

That gives me an idea. After lunch, I stop by the florist on the same side of the road as the Gold Theater. Lauren might have refused to be paid, but I still owe her, big time. I compose the most extravagant bouquet I”ve ever seen and drive it down to southie, finding her street from memory.

On my way from the parking lot to the door, I call Ari, balancing the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I carry the heavy bouquet in its vase.

”Hey, what”s your apartment number? I”m in front of your building. It”s the middle of the day, but I figured I could leave flowers in front of the door and your mom will see them when she gets there?”

From what I remember, the building isn”t locked, so I should be able to walk in without issue.

”Aw, you”re too sweet,” she tells me. ”It”s 7124. Seventh floor, to the right, and?—”

The phone is suddenly yanked from my ear and chucked on the floor. I only have a moment to gasp before a hand is pressed on my mouth, and I”m jerked backward.

I try to scream, dropping the flowers. The vase crashes against the pavement in a mess of glass, water, and long-stem roses. My arms flail in every direction, attempting to push away from the man dragging me back toward a black van, but he”s way too strong, and I have no idea how to get out of a hold like that. I try to kick back toward his crotch, but only hit his thigh.

”Bitch!” he grumbles, and I freeze.

I know this voice far too well.

”Joseph?”

My mother”s bodyguard has starred in enough of my nightmares for me to recognize that voice. With that identification, I know it’s him; his height, build, even the way he holds me is as familiar as it is distressing.

I think back to the dozens of times when he’s grabbed me, locking me in the dark. And he wants to do it all over again.

God, I should have known better than to play with fire. Distance and time made me believe I had some freedom. But within a day of my first show of rebellion, she’s sent her dog after me.

Unless he came here of his own volition. I can’t decide which would be worse.

What I know is I can’t let him get me into that car.

I bite his fingers and scream when he lets go for a moment. I yell. I kick and punch and do my best to bring as much attention to us as I can. We’re in broad daylight. I might not see anyone in our immediate vicinity, but that doesn’t mean we’re completely alone; there might be someone across the road or at a window.

“You really are a spoiled bitch,” he spits, when I kick back against the back of the open van to avoid being pushed into it. “No one is coming for you.”

“Wanna bet?” I hear.

Moments later, I fall on my ass, bruising my tailbone, as Joseph drops me.

The adrenaline pumping in my veins doesn’t let me analyze the change in the situation immediately; I don’t even know what I’m seeing, over the erratic beat of my heart.

My mother”s bodyguard, the monster from my nightmares, is on the pavement, on his knees, and there”s someone standing behind him. I blink, the blurry vision taking shape, but not making any more sense.

I know that guy. I”ve seen him recently, haven”t I? Tall, dark hair, cold eyes, all dressed in leather.

He”s holding a gun with a silencer to the back of Joseph”s neck.

”You know, I”d shoot, but I”ve had a busy weekend, and cleanup is a bitch,” he drawls, with a lazy, matter-of-fact voice. ”I guess it”s your lucky day, my friend.”

The stranger hits Joseph at the back of his head so hard I hear a thump, and he goes down, face first.In no time, the man in leather has him stashed in the back of his own van, where he wanted to lock me up.

Then those booted feet walk to me, and he removes his gloves, offering me a hand.”You good?”

I look up into that face. It”s pretty. Too pretty for someone so very casual about violence.

I swallow hard. ”I…thank you, yes.”

”I”m good with faces,” the guy says. ”You belong to my cousin, don”t you?”

Now that he mentioned it, I can finally place him. I met him at the gala. He”s not the one who told Sebastian they”d be upstairs after the auction, but he looks like him. Except for the eyes. His are silver, not blue.

”I…” I clear my throat. ”I”m seeing Sebastian.”

The man nods. ”Markus,” he introduces himself. The one with the pink-haired girl.I barely saw his face, given how busy it was at the gala, but I’ve seen them around campus.

”I”m Tia. Thank you for that.”

”It”s not over, whatever it is. That man was a professional—albeit not a very talented one—and he was after you. Anything I should know?”

I frown. ”Why should you know about my problems?”

He shrugs. ”If you”re with Sebastian, you”re intertwined with my family. And if my family has problems, they usually come to me.”

I let him pull me to my feet. ”It”s not…I”m not?—”

Not what? Moments away from being kidnapped by my evil mother”s gross bodyguard?

I try again. ”Sebastian won”t be affected by this. It”s my issue.”

A smile tugs at Markus”s lips. ”Now that, I very much doubt.”