19. Barrett
19
BARRETT
My brother watched me as I walked down the hallway the next morning.
“What?” I asked.
I hadn’t dressed for work yet since it was early. The clock told me I had a half hour until I needed to leave. My feet dragged over the floor; every step more difficult than the previous one. I didn’t want to go to work. My mind kept drifting to Reghan and how I hated it when he left in the middle of the night.
“You’re grumpy for someone who had a sleepover,” Marshall said with a smile from where he sat at the table.
“Don’t start.”
“Why not? And where’s Reghan?”
“He left. He had to work.”
“Bodyguard, right?”
I nodded. We weren’t lying to him. That was Reghan's job. Marshall didn’t need to know it was for Jordan.
In the cabinet, I grabbed a bowl and placed it near the fridge. There was a large container of yogurt in there I withdrew and spooned some into the bowl. After putting granola on top, I leaned against the counter and ate. Marshall had more he wanted to say. I could tell by the twitch of his lips. He was probably trying to figure out how to phrase it, so I’d answer him.
“I like him.”
The spoon paused halfway to my mouth. I expected him to ask me questions, not give his approval. Although, I knew last night Marshall thought Reghan was a good guy. He was. It was just that he killed people when need be and not in a legal way.
“Thank you?” I didn’t know how else to reply.
Marshall snorted. “You’re so weird. I’m not sure what it is about him, but he has you tied in knots.” He stood, his pajama pants too long and dragging on the floor as he walked in front of me to put his empty bowl in the sink. Leaning like I was, he turned to face me. “What are you afraid of? He obviously cares about you. No one would go to the trouble he did if he just wanted to sleep with you.”
“That’s the problem.”
“That he cares?”
I nodded and shoveled in another bite, slowly chewing the granola before swallowing, giving myself time to think of how I wanted to elaborate on this. But Marshall knew me too well and spoke before I could.
“You’re worried about me.” He sighed. “You don’t need to be. I’m fine. I have a job, my painting, and we’re safe here.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Barrett, stop. At some point, you have to put yourself first and not always think about how everything you do affects me.”
“It does.”
He shook his head. “No, you just think so. I had two emails this morning from the contact form on my website. They want to buy my art.” He had a basic site, but it was enough for him to showcase his art without having to pay more for the site to turn into a store.
“That’s great. I’m proud of you.” This was just the start of an amazing career for him.
“Thanks. It’s… it’s like I’m dreaming. People want to buy from me and not the little amount of money I’d made in the past. Last night introduced me to people with money. One of them is… Shit, I don’t know if I should tell you.”
That had me tensing. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew who he was going to say. “Let’s hear it.”
“Jordan Altair.”
“Senior?” There was no surprise in my voice.
Marshall rolled his eyes. “Yes. He saw my art and wants to purchase a piece for one of his partners to hang in his studio. He said it would get more eyes on it due to the clients Hartley has. And don’t act like you don’t know who they are. Everyone in the city does.”
I ate more, waiting for him to say how Jordan saw his work. I knew, of course. There was no doubt he saw what Reghan had bought. That was a piece of the puzzle I hadn’t put together last night. I didn’t think about what Jordan would say when he saw it. I doubted someone could bring a tissue into his building without him knowing, never mind a piece of art.
“You don’t have any comments to make?” Marshall asked. “You’re not going to ask how he saw my art?”
I remained silent.
“Why don’t you trust me?”
The yogurt was a rock in my throat when I swallowed. “You’re my brother. Of course I trust you.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me who Reghan works for?”
“What did Jordan say?”
“Deflecting. Jordan didn’t say anything about Reghan. He said it was unfortunate he missed the art expo, but he heard I was very talented, thanks to the owner of the hotel.” I should have known Emeric would call Jordan.
“He wanted to purchase some of my art for his partner,” Marshall continued. “I could easily put the pieces together. Reghan is a bodyguard. He’s massive. There’s no way that man isn’t protecting someone important. And why would Jordan Altair contact me out of nowhere?”
“He knows Emeric Saylor?”
Marshall crossed his arms. “Barrett. Does Reghan work for Jordan Altair?”
I couldn’t lie to him when he asked me directly. With me… dating… fucking… Reghan, Marshall was bound to find out. I should have thought this through too. It didn’t make Marshall any more of a target. It only brought him more into my world, the one I wanted to shield him from. At least he didn’t know I helped Jordan on the side.
“Yes,” I told him.
“And you’ve known this for how long?”
“Years.”
He nodded. “You didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to get hurt or involved in anything or have any knowledge about this for my own safety.” It wasn’t a question. He knew why I did it.
“Jordan isn’t someone to get mixed up with.”
“Yet you’re dating his bodyguard. I’m not going to ask what else you aren’t telling me because you do things for a reason, but you could have at least told me this. I’m not going to run around confessing it to others. Your job would be on the line.”
I put the bowl on the counter so I could scrub my hands over my face. Reghan’s scent was still on me, his cologne on my skin. “It should make me not want anything to do with him.”
“You’ve known him too long. All this time you were brooding, it was him, wasn’t it?”
“He gets under my skin like I do to him.”
“You deserve to be happy. If he makes you smile, don’t let anyone stand in your way. I would give anything to have what you do. To have someone who looks at me like I’m their entire world. That’s what Reghan did. This is beyond sex, Barrett.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m selling Jordan one of my paintings for Hartley’s studio.”
“Yeah,” I repeated because there wasn’t anything I could say. What good would it do to tell him no? Jordan wasn’t threatening my brother or hurting him. Jordan had connections, as did Hartley. This could propel my brother’s career. “I don’t like it. I don’t want you anywhere near him. Whatever Jordan wants, I’ll have Reghan deliver it.”
“Jordan must have known you’d say that. He already suggested one of his employees pick it up.” Marshall cocked his head. “How well do you know the mafia boss?”
“Marshall…” There was a warning in my tone. He was an adult, but he was also my brother. I’d be damned if it went any further than him selling Jordan his art.
There were people all over East Dremest who were friendly with Jordan. Having my brother talk to him wouldn’t end well though, not with my position as one of the city’s detectives. There was also a bit of a relief that Marshall knew a little about what I’d been keeping from him. If he knew the rest, he could be brought in and questioned. My brother didn’t belong in those rooms or behind bars.
Marshall pushed off the counter and came toward me until he could hug me. I embraced him back.
“I don’t need all the details, Barrett. I’m here though. I’d never tell anyone what you say to me. You’re the most important person in my life. You carry a weight on your shoulders I hate seeing. I hope Reghan helps you relax and shows you your worth.”
My eyes became misty. “Thanks, Mars,” I whispered.
He leaned back and graced me with one of his bright smiles. “I’m happy for you. Reghan’s going to be good for you, now that you finally gave in.”
“That’s yet to be determined. I could be fired if we're found out.”
“It’s just a job. You could become a private investigator and work for yourself. Or you could follow Reghan and see if the mafia boss of East Dremest wants to find work for you.” He didn’t know how on the nose his words were.
“Sure. That would do so well for us. I’d like to stay out of prison.”
He dramatically rolled his eyes. “We all know Jordan gets away with everything in this city. Now, you have to go to work and so do I. There’s a lot of art to create. Plus, I need to decide what painting to sell Jordan.”
“He didn’t pick one?”
“Nope. He said it was my choice.”
Jordan’s kindness surprised me. Almost every time I saw him, there was an undercurrent of violence or full-out blood and murder. I’d seen how gentle he was with his partners. I’d watched as he spoke to others who weren’t threats to him. He was multilayered, even if he didn’t want anyone to see it.
Marshall stepped away and started toward his room. “Maybe I’ll paint him something new, a cityscape, or I could paint Hartley’s building. It would be more personal and show how I could bring art to life.”
“He’s going to love whatever you give him.”
He chuckled. “That’s my brother talking but forgetting about who the buyer is. I’ll figure it out.”
“I have no doubt. Just remember, minimal contact.”
“I know, Barrett.” Marshall went into his room and closed the door.
I did the same and leaned heavily against it. My room still smelled like Reghan. The bed was unmade, the sheet askew, and the comforter on the floor. We would have been better off in a bigger bed.
The memories of last night were etched into my brain. Each breath, every moan, the way his body felt against mine. We were perfect together, and it scared me beyond belief. I wasn’t under the illusion this would be smooth. Someone was bound to find out. I’d slip eventually. Not Reghan. He was too smart for that. Me, I was going to say or do something to bring attention to our relationship. It would be downhill from there.
I’d lose my job.
Reghan would try to help me, but I wouldn’t let him.
I’d have to find a way to provide for my brother and would dip into savings.
My cushion would slowly disappear.
Everything would come crashing down because that was how my life went.
I just had to hope when it did, Marshall would be clear of the debris.