Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
NORTH CAROLINA
W hen Bryson returned from his mid-morning run, he was surprised to see that Eric wasn’t around. Having the old man keep track of his workout time was half the reason he did it.
An unfamiliar voice in the garden room drew his attention.
“So what if you liked it? I can name a hundred Doms that do.”
Bryson peeked through the open doorway leading into the garden room. Inside there was a silver-haired woman. Older, but beautiful in her own right. Her Ricci blouse and designer watch said she had money, and a lot of it. She reminded Bryson of a mom that had graduated to a grandma, but no one was allowed to point it out. He saw Adria sitting across from her, sipping tea out of her favorite purple mug.
“They don’t like to be disturbed when they are talking.”
A voice whispered over his shoulder.
Unfamiliar and nasally, Bryson ignored his skin’s protests to the new man’s proximity and turned.
He was young .
“Regan,” the boy said, still in a low voice, “could you…”
He motioned to the door that Bryson held slightly ajar. Bryson allowed it to swing silently shut.
Regan was medium height, with short dark brown hair, blue eyes and, unlike Bryson, was completely naked and leaning against the breakfast counter, hands outstretched on either side of him.
“What are you doing here, Regan?” Bryson asked.
Regan jutted his chin toward the now shut door. “Thank you for that, my Mistress is rather finicky with the rules.”
The silver fox was his Mistress.
Regan moved to the other side of the kitchen. “I’m trying to find a kettle.”
“For what?”
“Tea.”
Bryson looked back at the still closed door. “They’re already drinking it.”
Regan looked at him with a curious expression. “What if they need more?”
Bryson shook his head. “Right, umm, second cabinet on the left.”
Regan moved through the kitchen gracefully, remaining silent except for the sound of water pouring from the faucet and the gentle clang of the kettle setting on the stove.
When he was finished, he pushed his bare ass onto the quartz counter and sat.
“We eat there, you know,” Bryson said, getting irritated with the guest.
“This is a nice place. Loretta’s is nicer, bigger, too, but I like the decor here,” Regan said.
Bryson didn’t think he could handle any more banter, so he moved to the side entrance .
“Are you getting nervous?” Regan asked, from behind him.
Bryson paused in the doorway.
“For the preview? Loretta showed me the guest list, a lot of big names on there,” Regan said from behind him.
Bryson turned. Now Regan was lying on the breakfast counter, one knee bent, gazing at the Crawford ceiling.
The preview was in a week. Adria had only told them about it a few nights ago. She even tried to sell them some line about selling them to the buyer of their choosing if they behaved. Not that Bryson believed a word she said.
“You saw the guest list?” Bryson said, walking back.
Regan nodded, still looking at the ceiling. His body was lean, like Bryson, except Regan was a little better filled out in the shoulders and arms. His face was square, he had the build of a wrestler.
“Who are the big names?” Bryson asked, looming over him.
Regan shook his head. His large breath out caused his abdomen to contract, showing his ribs and the contour of his navel. “I shouldn’t say, Loretta wasn’t even supposed to show me. But she does because I’m her favorite.”
Regan looked at him then.
Seth’s eyes were a pale blue, almost gray in the right light, but these were a deep hue that hit Bryson like a punch to the face.
Eyes said a lot about a person, and Regan’s eyes sent alarm bells ringing in Bryson’s head.
He was dangerous.
Bryson had grown up around dangerous men, and he knew the difference between all talk and business. And Regan was all business. But, having lived with one his whole life, Bryson knew how to handle the dangerous ones.
Bryson didn’t understand why, but he got people. A few minutes with them and the pieces presented themselves.
He knew what motivated them.
And Regan, his pieces were the corner ones.
Four pieces with only one place to go on the puzzle.
Running his hand along Regan’s chest, he settled his palm around the base of his neck. He didn’t squeeze, but put gentle pressure through his fingers, tilting his chin up.
Regan twisted his face to look at him, a wicked grin growing on it. “You know I wanted to be here. Adria was my first choice.”
“Then why are you with Loretta?” Bryson’s voice shifted instinctually, a lifetime of needing to adapt at a moment’s notice. It was softer with a little gravel to it.
Regan looked at the ceiling, eyes blank. “All full at the inn, But Loretta has been quite…helpful.”
Bryson rubbed the side of Regan’s neck, finding his pulse. “I wasn’t aware people volunteered for this shit.”
Regan’s eyebrows rose. His face looked surprised, but his heart rate didn’t match. Something about him was off.
“You didn’t volunteer?” Regan asked.
“Not exactly.”
Regan tried to sit, but Bryson pushed him down with his hand. Regan didn’t fight the pressure.
“You said you saw the guest list.”
Regan yawned and stretched under him, as if this was the most boring thing in the world.
“There were a few names I didn’t recognize, and some I did. Belle, Kaster, Rain, Fallen.”
Bryson recognized Fallen. He was a high-end buyer, but relaxed knowing that none of his father’s allies were named.
“Will you be there?”
Regan shook his head. “Loretta says maybe next time. Oh, and Balin will be there, of course. ”
“Jonathan.” The name was out before Bryson could stop himself. Regan nodded. “You know him?”
“Why would he be there?”
Regan scrunched his eyebrows together. “They’re friends, good friends, from what I hear.”
Bryson continued to feel his pulse; he didn’t seem to be lying.
“Does she not talk to you?” Regan asked.
The low whistle of the teakettle caused Bryson to let Regan go. Regan moved diligently, taking the kettle off the heat. When Bryson raised an eyebrow, he responded, “Now when they want it, it’ll be halfway done.”
“How thoughtful,” Bryson said sarcastically.
“I like to be helpful.”
The words were right, but his face was wrong. Something about the entire exchange was wrong.
“Why was Adria your first choice?” Bryson asked, curious.
Regan tilted his head, looking at him as if he was a child in need of a nap. “She’s the best. Loretta is a close second; she trained her after all. But Adria rose to the challenge, and now she wears the crown.”
Regan moved lazily, walking towards Bryson. Invading his space. Another person may have stepped back, but not Bryson.
“She’s on thin ice,” Regan whispered conspiratorially in his ear.
“Who?” Bryson responded.
“Your Adria. Word is, you three have gotten her in hot water.”
He turned, but Bryson grabbed his wrist. “And how is that?”
Regan looked around before responding, “I really shouldn’t say,” he said, giggling to himself. “Something about a Triune being suspicious of her motives. Loretta tells me these things in confidence. Apparently, whomever they are they are worried about her motives.”
He waved his hand in the air. “She has been given explicit orders, train you to completion or else.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else the deal’s off, she loses—but it’s only a rumor.”
She loses.
Bryson liked the sound of that. Losing to the Triune was never good. No wonder Adria was promising them the world. She was walking the plank.
She was going to have to put on one hell of a show to stay in their good graces. And Bryson would love to be the one to finally take her down a notch.
“If you’re gonna hang out in the kitchen, Bryce, at least you can make up some lun—” Seth stopped mid-sentence, freezing in the doorway.
Regan’s eyes lit up. “Aren’t you adorable?”
His eyes moved to Bryson. “I like this one.”
“Umm. Thank you,” Seth said, confused.
“Seth was just leaving,” Bryson said, moving towards him.
“Pity.”
Bryson gave Seth his best get the fuck out of here stares.
Regan leaned his head against the cabinets, back to boredom.
A bell rang from the other room, and a dark shadow crossed over Regan’s face, but was quickly erased.
“Duty calls, if you’ll excuse me.”
He brightened and turned the kettle back on.
Bryson grabbed Seth by the arm, guiding him away.
Bryson made a beeline to find Kaydon, Seth in tow. Pushing Seth into the room, Bryson shut the door.
Flopping onto the couch with Kaydon, he said, “I propose we sabotage the preview.”
Kaydon didn’t look up from his game. “I thought we were trying not to rock the boat.”
“That was before we had all the information,” Bryson said, taking his time explaining what he had learned in the kitchen.
“Can we even trust him?” Seth asked.
Bryson’s knee bounced. He was having a difficult time sitting still. “Why would he lie about that? What would he have to gain?”
Kaydon considered.
Bryson went on, “We may be safe here, but we should be thinking about what happens next. If there’s a chance she’s not being truthful about keeping us together, we need a backup plan. Kay, you wanted me to take the lead, and I’m ready to do that. But I need both of you to support me in this. We have an opportunity, and we should take it.”
Kaydon nodded. “Equal ground would be nice.”
“Exactly,” Bryson said, excitedly. “Equal ground means we can work with her. We would have a card to play.”
Seth was picking at a popped stitch on the worn-out blue couch cushion.
A frayed little detail.
Coming undone.
Bryson watched as the stitch gave, and Seth pulled at the loose thread, something dark flickering behind his eyes.
“We’ll just use the Triune’s attention as leverage,” Seth murmured, still focused on the thread.
“I don’t want her to get hurt.”
“Neither do I,” Kaydon added .
Bryson exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “No one does,” he said dismissively. “Once the Triune sees she isn’t performing, they’ll put her on watch. That’s when we step in with a deal.”
Seth shifted, his gaze darting anywhere but Bryson.
“Question,” Kaydon chimed in. “Who do we want to be sold to?”
Bryson didn’t take his eyes off Seth when he answered.
“I was thinking about El.”
Seth looked up. “Elena?”
Kaydon gave a low whistle. “That is a decision. You sure she is up for that?”
Bryson appreciated his brother’s concern, and after what happened to her, he could understand. But he knew his sister, and she was a Winters, she could handle it.
“She’s the only one outside of this room that I trust. It has to be her.”
His attention flickered back to Seth, who still wasn’t looking at him.
Bryson pulled Seth into him. “I didn’t realize the two of you were so close,” he murmured.
Seth’s scowl was immediate. “We aren’t.”
Kaydon grinned and, with no warning, smashed his warm body on top of both of them.
Bryson grunted, but Seth made a sound somewhere between protest and annoyance.
“When we’re on equal ground,” Kaydon teased, “you could make your move, though.”
Bryson chose to ignore the flush creeping up Seth’s neck.
That was a problem for later.
Right now, they had a job to do.
He nudged Seth, voice dropping into something softer.
“Come on, Killer. ”
Seth hesitated.
“We’ve been really good,” Bryson coaxed, his grip tightening. “Let’s have some fun.”
A pause. “I need this, Seth. I’m drowning over here.”
Something shifted in Seth’s expression, the flicker of hesitation melting into something darker.
A slow, dangerous smirk curled on his lips. “Okay,” Seth said.
A glint sparked in his blue eyes. “Let’s fuck up the party.”
“Hell yeah.” Kaydon grinned.
And just like that?—
It was on.