Chapter 13 Cade
CADE
I don’t have to go far, just to Wylder’s office. I know he’ll be there. He’s always working. He takes his job as the oldest brother very seriously. It’s sad when I think about it sometimes. His life is The Firm and nothing else. I have my obsessions, but what does Wylder have besides this?
Well, he has Candace, I guess, but she doesn’t count. Not when his life would be far better without her in it.
I don’t knock, just waltz in, seeing not only Wylder here but Samson, Matthias, and Dalton as well. Who knows where Harley’s slipped off to? Probably went to Matthias’s house to flirt with his chef some more.
He really needs to grow a pair and lock him down. That’s what I’m doing. I saw Ansel. Decided I wanted Ansel. Made Ansel mine.
Okay, so maybe our courtship isn’t the most conventional…but he’s currently asleep in my childhood home, so I think it’s going wonderfully.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Wylder says, his eyes crinkled with amusement. “I thought you’d leave his side when he was dead.”
“He’s not dying. He will live forever,” I say curtly. “And no thanks to you all, he’s perfectly fine.”
Dalton runs a hand down his face. “Go on. Let’s just get this over with.”
He steps forward and faces me, ready for his karma.
“Do you really need to do this? I don’t want blood on the carpet.” Wylder sighs. “The pipes in this old house are already bursting. I don’t need more of a mess.”
“What pipes?” Matthias asks.
“One in the downstairs bathroom. We have people here patching it all up. Will take a few days though.”
“Don’t give a shit about the pipes unless it’s this asshole’s nose pipe, which I really want to break.”
“Do you have to?” Wylder sighs once more.
“It has to be done,” Samson chimes in. “We all know this. Just catch any of the blood you can in your hands.”
He’s one to talk. I haven’t forgotten that he was the one holding a gun to Ansel’s head.
I flex my fingers into a fist and meet my younger brother’s stare. “Have you learned your lesson?”
“Yes.”
With that, I let my arm cock back and my knuckles connect with his cheek. A brutal punch, one that makes my hand throb and will leave a visible bruise, but not as vicious as it could have been.
I shake out my hand and turn to face my eldest brother. “See, no blood, and now I feel better.”
Wylder glowers at me. “So glad your feelings are more important than my Persian rug.”
Dalton rubs at his cheek tenderly and cracks open his jaw. He knows it could have been worse, but says nothing, just lowers himself into a chair beside Samson, who hands him a glass of whiskey.
My knuckles crack as I address Samson. “Best pour yourself one too.”
He pauses, decanter hovering over cut crystal. “What? Why?”
“Are you forgetting that you’re the one who had a gun to his head?”
Matthias groans. “Are you forgetting that he kidnapped you, and we thought we were protecting you?”
I point at him. “Put Wyatt in Ansel’s position. Pretend none of us knew what he meant to you, but that’s the scene you walked in on.”
Matthias considers it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, he’s got a point. We’re lucky you didn’t shoot first and ask questions later. Samson, get over there.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Samson mutters, pouring himself a glass. “Who becomes obsessed with someone who kidnaps him?”
Wylder smirks. “To be fair, this tracks for Cade.”
“Well, I think you’re a sucker,” Samson says, setting down the decanter and coming to stand before me. “You and Matthias. You won’t catch me becoming obsessed over someone else. Not in this fucking lifetime.”
Cute that he thinks that. It’s not how we’re wired. Any of us. We were shown so little love growing up that it’s broken something in us—the ability to love and care normally rather than obsessively.
Samson just hasn’t found his person yet. Can’t wait until he does. I’m gonna laugh in his face as I sing “I told you so” over and over again.
My punch connects with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. I pat his back as he wheezes. “When you fall for someone, Brother, I’ll remind you of this. Repeatedly.”
He’s too winded to respond, but it doesn’t stop him from flipping me the bird.
My business with Samson and Dalton concluded, I take a seat opposite Wylder. “Ansel wants his phone.”
Wylder’s lips thin. “Over my dead body. We’re still going through it.”
That makes my eye twitch. I knew they’d refuse, but hearing it brings me crashing down to reality. About who we are and who Ansel is. He’s involved in a huge mess, and now we’re going to have to clean it up.
I don’t mind. But my brothers do. They mind very much.
“Have you found anything of use?”
Wylder shakes his head. “No. Your boyfriend is smart. Everything is encrypted and password protected. This is going to take some time.”
That makes pride well up inside of me. “He is the smartest.”
“But he has received several messages from a Neo. They sounded worried.” Wylder taps the desk. “Could be a lover?”
My jaw clenches, my mind flashing to the N on the wall and everything Ansel told me. I’m glad I already know about him, or this revelation would have me throwing more punches. “Not a lover. His best friend.”
“Well, Neo has great taste in names. Love The Matrix,” Samson says. “Awesome films.”
I ignore that. Samson’s taste in films is about as accepted as my taste in music. “Ansel needs to message him and let him know he’s okay.”
Wylder doesn’t budge. “We need to discuss this as a family. We’ve done some digging on Neo, and he seems to be a hacker. As is your Ansel. Although online, he goes by Ghostmode.”
“Not the most original name. I like Neo better,” Samson drawls, and I shoot him a warning look. No talking badly about what’s mine.
I stand and lean on the desk. “I know he’s a hacker.
He told me so. It’s how he got into trouble and why he kidnapped me.
The simple solution right now would be to let Neo know his friend is okay.
They have an agreement that if they don’t hear from one another for three days, then they know shit is going down.
Do we really want Neo looking into us? With a name like that, who knows what he’s capable of. ”
Wylder considers it. I know not to push him. He likes to take his time making a decision. Finally, he pulls a phone from his desk drawer. I recognize it as Ansel’s.
He doesn’t let it go as I reach for it. “Instead of giving him the phone, because we aren’t done combing through it, you can go ahead and send a message to Neo.
Nip this in the bud, Cade. Candace is joining us for dinner tonight, and I don’t want to have to cancel because you accidentally get us into some shit. ”
“Wouldn’t be the worst if you missed a date with her,” Samson grumbles. Wylder hears him, but ignores his comment. I don’t think any of us like Candace—don’t really trust her—but Wylder does, so we say nothing.
Well, mostly say nothing.
Sometimes we can’t help ourselves. Like Samson right now. It’s harder to bite our tongues when we know we will be subjected to her company.
Usually, I’d be giving an excuse to skip it, but maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll take Ansel along. It’ll be good for him to see more of what he’s getting into.
And he’s bound to liven shit up just by being there. For me, at least.
I give Wylder a clipped nod. “All right, give it to me. I’ll get him off our trail.”
I take the phone and slide to the messages.
Neo is one of only a few contacts in this phone, and I feel my chest clench at that.
Is my Ansel really so alone? His parents are gone and he has no siblings, but does he have no one else?
I don’t know what that would be like. I have my brothers in my personal space at all hours of the day. Sometimes it drives me crazy.
I think being alone would drive me crazier though. If I’m honest, my brothers are the reason I’m as sane as I am. Which isn’t a lot, but like I said, it could be worse. I could be zero percent sane.
That wouldn’t be good for the world.
As I glance at the thread, I see a long string of messages from Neo, each one more concerned than the last. I scroll up to see when Ansel messaged and note that it was two days ago.
If I also note that there’s nothing romantic in the messages, I won’t admit it.
Even if something in my chest unclenches at the knowledge that they truly are just friends.
Navigating back to the end of the thread, my fingers fly across the screen as I send a message as Ansel. Hopefully, I’ve captured his voice and nothing tips Neo off.
I hit send and power the device off, handing it back to Wylder. He places it in his drawer and locks it. “There, now you can let your boyfriend know Neo believes he’s safe.”
Believes. Wylder might not trust Ansel, but I do. Nothing bad is going to happen to my butterfly. Not while I have breath in my body.
I don’t argue with what Wylder calls Ansel. If I get my way, that’s the title he’ll have shortly. Yes, I might be moving fast, but apparently being kidnapped will do that for a guy. For me, at least.
“He’ll be pleased.”
“He better be. After this shit, he better be happy he’s alive.”
I don’t like that tone of voice, but I dismiss it. Because Wylder’s right. Ansel’s mistake in capturing me is going to put a strain on the family, on The Firm. Because I’m going to insist we find whoever threatened him and take them apart.
Piece by piece.
I’m back at Ansel’s side as he wakes up. “Afternoon, butterfly.”
He squints at me, hair disheveled, a crease on his cheek from the couch cushion.
“What time is it?”
“Lunchtime.” I gesture to the tray waiting on the coffee table. “Gotta get you fighting fit so you can tell me all your secrets.”
He eyes me warily as he sits up, the blanket pooling in his lap. “What secrets?”
I hand him a glass of water and wait until he drinks half. “Just little things, like what your favorite food is. Your ideal date. Who threatened you into kidnapping me and why. The small things.”