Chapter Thirteen
THIRTEEN
Jake
On my sixteenth birthday, my eldest brother called me on his way home from college, promising to hand-deliver a surprise present. The best a big brother could offer. I contemplated driving to Concord, pretending I was sick with the flu, breaking my own leg, and spending the day in the hospital.
Anything to get me out of whatever surprise Trent had up his sleeve.
But Kate, my eight-year-old little sister, ran into my room with a handmade birthday card. It said, You have permission to ride Bowie all day—today only!
Her face lit up like she’d given me the world. Her prized horse was never to be ridden by any of her brothers, including me. I didn’t want to disappoint her, so I spent the morning at the stables. There was no avoiding Trent once he arrived. No denying him. I tried at least.
I said no when he pulled me into his brand-new Lamborghini Murciélago.
I said no when he drove me to New York.
I said no when his friends showed up and dragged me into a strip club.
I said fuck no when Trent paid for a VIP room for me.
He grabbed the back of my neck, his fingers digging into my flesh.
“Don’t be a pussy, Jake,” he whisper-hissed.
“Most little brothers would be on their knees in appreciation for this gift. Take it. Thank me the fuck later.” He pushed me off the couch so forcefully I stumbled into the stripper, having to grab her around the waist before she fell back into the hard edge of the stage.
He laughed.
His friends laughed.
I just wanted to leave, and I realized Trent at least gave me a way to escape them. So I stayed in the VIP room all night, talking with Destiny and learning that she was a grad student at NYU studying microbiology and dancing at the club to pay off her student loans.
It was that night that I realized my brother did not understand the word no.
It’s why I don’t say it today while he ransacks a closet, tearing my button-downs and polos off the hangers and tossing them like garbage to the floor.
Barely an hour at Stonehaven, and we’re already at odds.
But I expected as much when the yacht docked at the three-story mansion, and Varrick explained there weren’t enough bedrooms for everyone to have their own.
He made arrangements for the brothers to room together.
Not a problem for Damian and Sandon Bennet, Grey and Trevor Thornhall, or even Oliver and Nova Smith.
But Trent and I—we have a massive fucking problem. We can barely share the same air. Sharing a bedroom might as well be asking him to sleep inside a coffin six feet under the earth.
Instead of politely telling me to gather my things—things that were meticulously folded and placed in drawers and closets by the Stonehaven staff that unpacked our luggage—Trent has decided to go nuclear.
I’m half expecting him to take out a match and just light my shit on fire.
It’s not beneath him.
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, the door shut on Trent’s request. “Is this really necessary?” I ask.
He takes two hands to scoop my boxer briefs out of the drawer and dump them on the rug. “You weren’t going to do it.”
“If you gave me longer than thirty fucking seconds—”
“You’ve always been slow at everything. I doubt you’d have this handled in thirty minutes, let alone seconds.” He thrusts open the next drawer. “Just thank me and be done with it.”
“What am I thanking you for exactly?”
“Solving this fuckup.” He tosses my shorts onto the pile of clothes.
“I’m sure Varrick Wolfe would love to hear how you believe his arrangements are a massive failure—”
“Twisting my words already.” Trent shoots me a glare. “You shouldn’t even be in this room. My lawyers advised me not to be alone with you.”
I laugh. “Is that why we haven’t been alone together since Mom died?”
“Obviously. I actually listen to my legal counsel.”
Yeah, right.
He shuts the last drawer and tips his chin down to my clothes littered on the ground. “Take your shit and leave.”
I don’t move off the doorframe. “Where?”
“Don’t know. Don’t really care.”
“And if Varrick asks why I’m sleeping on the couch? Should I let him know my big brother kicked me out of the room?”
“Tell him whatever you want, Jake. I’m the one sleeping in this room. I didn’t lose. That speaks louder than your useless words.”
He’s trying to impress Varrick, which surprises me. I’d thought Trent agreed to summering at Stonehaven for the novelty of it. A rare look inside the inner sanctum of Victoria’s most noble family.
I didn’t think he was interested in being named heir.
“You actually want the Wolfe inheritance?” I ask with a frown.
Trent’s face contorts like I’ve lost it.
“Who the fuck wouldn’t? The Wolfes have double our wealth and more passive income to their name.
Varrick is a lucky prick. He’s hired staff to manage all of his properties.
Barely lifts a finger. While I’m wasting my life in a boardroom trying to please investors.
” He looks me up and down. “But you wouldn’t know what that’s like.
Mom never let you in the big boy chair.”
“I own half the assets now.”
“Half doesn’t give you the majority, baby brother.” His phone vibrates, and he rolls his eyes when he checks the message. “Fucking Jordan. Still bitching he didn’t get an invite.”
Mention of our brother tenses my body. Jordan called me when he found out about the invitation. He was a mess. I could barely make out what he was saying. I talked to his wife for over an hour trying to convince her to get him help, but she insisted he’d leave her before that happens.
“Jordan needs rehab,” I tell Trent.
My eldest brother groans loudly. “Not with this again.” He runs an annoyed hand through his hair. “Jordan is pathetic. He doesn’t need rehab. He needs a backbone.”
“Says the guy who supplies him with Percocet.”
Trent laughs lowly. “Everyone pops pills. It’s not my fault if he has no self-control. It’s a personality flaw.”
It’s an illness, I want to say. But I’ve been through this toxic merry-go-round a thousand times before.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Over this.
We’ve never seen eye to eye on our brother.
It’s the same argument I’ve had with our mom.
They’d rather look down on Jordan than admit that they failed him. As a mother. As an older brother.
I’m the youngest of my brothers, and I am trying my best to keep this shit together without bandaging our family’s legacy with a bloodstained cloth.
“Since when do you care so much about Jordan?” Trent asks me. “You hate him. Unless you forgot that he also sells Perks to caufers.” Caufers: students at Caufield University.
I haven’t forgotten that.
I do hate him for that.
But I can want him to get help and hate him at the same time. Multitasking isn’t a foreign concept for me.
I don’t give Trent the satisfaction of a reply. Veins pop in his neck; he’s unnerved. He motions again to the pile of clothes. “Collect your shit.”
Barely blinking, I say, “No.”
He laughs shortly. “You don’t want to do this with me.”
“Why?” I say with an easygoing shrug. “Can’t handle someone pushing back on you?”
His smile never wanes. “You’ve always thought yourself big and tough.
But it’s just so easy to hurt you. I barely have to try.
” He walks to the closet and finds my empty suitcase.
He slings it to the floor, and it splays open next to the mound of clothes.
“Pack up your shit or else I will be happy to find another room to bunk in. I heard your ex-girlfriend is sleeping on this floor. Three doors down.”
Phoebe.
He doesn’t break eye contact.
I know he has it in him to try to enter her room without permission. My joints loosen enough for me to leave the doorframe and kneel beside my suitcase.
Trent doesn’t gloat. He steps around me and opens the door, making my embarrassment a public display for any passersby. “You,” I hear him call out. “Come here.” I think he’s flagging down staff until I see the platinum-blonde hair peek into the door. Hailey.
Her lips turn down when she catches my eyes.
Trent snaps his fingers at me. “My brother needs help. He’s woefully incapable of this task. Hasn’t packed a suitcase in all his life.”
“I’m fine,” I snap. But I don’t mention how he’s right about the last part. I have people that pack for me. So does Trent.
My brother waves me off. “He’s being obnoxiously humble. Please help him.” He just wants to shame me, but there’s no judgment in Hailey’s eyes. She walks farther into the room and kneels on the other side of my suitcase.
Trent sinks onto the bed, kicking his feet up on the mattress. He scrolls on his phone and lets out an impatient sigh as if I’m a nuisance in his room.
I start tossing shirts into the suitcase, not bothering to fold them. Hailey’s gaze flits from Trent to me, anger growing as she puts the pieces together.
“You can stay in my room, Jake,” she says, loud enough for my brother to hear.
Defiance pulses against her gray eyes, and I lose myself in them for a second.
There aren’t many people in this world willing to stick up for me against Trent.
Until the Graveses and Tinrocks moved to Victoria, I would have said there were none.
It still feels unreal. Like maybe one day I’ll wake up from this dream and live my inherited nightmare.
“So cute,” Trent deadpans, his eyes still on his phone. “The freak has a charity case.”
She opens her mouth to reply, but I reach out across my suitcase to grab her wrist. Her lips snap shut.
Her shoulders slump in defeat, and we share a silent look of agreement.
No provoking. Trent gets too interested in the push and pull, and if he showed any interest in Hailey, I’d lose my fucking mind.
We return to my clothes, and I watch her fold my black boxer briefs.
Her lips quirk in a sly smile as she places them gently into the suitcase and pats them.
I try hard not to smile, especially when she reorganizes every shirt I attempt to fold.
She does sorcery on it because the collar ends up on top.
Her lips keep rising and rising as my expression turns more awed.
I can’t stop looking at her. Even though better judgment says I should.
Trent doesn’t know it, but he did me a massive favor today. I’m the real winner because I get to spend all summer rooming with Hailey Tinrock.
Thank you, brother.