24. Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Keaton
Today was the first time I threw a party at my house—and I hated it. Although I’d locked all the rooms so guests didn’t get any ideas, there were still plenty of objects they could destroy. Like my baseball collection.
“Don’t touch that.” I snatched the baseball signed by Darkwater Destroyers’ pitcher, Kyro Grimes, from a dude’s hands. Carefully set it back on its designated spot on the fireplace mantel.
That’s exactly why I usually hosted parties at either rented locations, or my suite in Glam City, where I didn’t need to worry about anyone touching my stuff.
Jump by Kris Kross boomed from the speakers mounted inside as well as outside, the bass vibrating in my chest. Pretty sure you could hear it all the way to Glam City. People dancing, chatting, and drinking crowded my living room, the kitchen, and the pool area. No idea what the number of guests mounted up to, but I guessed about two hundred. Although I didn’t know half of them, they apparently knew who I was, because they kept greeting me.
“Keaton, hey man!” Arms raised, Xav shoved through the crowd to get to me. Even though it was dark outside, he wore shades. Upside down. “Sick party! Why didn’t you do this sooner?”
I grimaced. Because up until now, I didn’t have to make my wife divorce me.
“You seen Tatum?” I shouted, my eyes roaming the sea of faces. He’d promised to stop by. Pretty surprising, considering how much he hated parties and people.
Xav took a sip of his beer. “Nope.” He waved his hand. “Let’s go outside.” With an arm around my shoulders, he shoved me through the living room out onto the pool deck. “Make way for the king,” he roared into the crowd. With his booming voice he easily drowned out the music and drew the attention of the guests in and around the water to us. “Bring the man a drink and the microphone.”
I accepted the Linc a brunette passed me and the mic from the DJ. He turned down the music.
“What’s up,” I said, eliciting a cheer from the crowd. “Thanks for coming. The party is over. Have a nice evening.” I pretended to pass the mic back to the DJ, laughs echoing around the pool. I brought the mic back to my lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t kick you out just yet.” I took a sip of Linc, then raised the glass to the sky. “Let’s get the party started!”
The crowd went wild. Maybe I should’ve added “keep your hands off my baseball collection.” Too late.
As soon as I handed the mic back, the DJ turned the music back up. My gaze found Layne’s bedroom window. It was pitch black. What was she doing up there? Was she even here? I hadn’t noticed her leaving the house, so she had to be.
The Linc suddenly tasted bitter. Hurting her like this sucked. I wanted to tell her about the threats. Find another solution so we could stay together a little while longer. But nobody could know about what was going on. It would only add to the risk. That’s why I had to make Layne hate me. Needed her to file for divorce before this psycho found out I cared about her and started targeting her.
“Keaton, sugar.” Delilah strutted toward me in a white bikini and high heels as if she was on a catwalk. Her sweet perfume cloaked me when she looped her arms around my neck, her lips brushing my ear. “Thanks for the invitation.”
“Good to see you, Lilah.” I hugged her loosely, taking another sip of Linc over her shoulder.
She ran her fingers into my hair, her nails sending shivers across my scalp and down my neck. It was as if she sensed that I was on edge. That I craved release.
Playing with me as always.
I pulled her hand down. “You know the drill. I’m married now.” Only a month ago, I’d have exploited the invitation.
Not anymore.
My gaze snapped back up to Layne’s room. The only woman I wanted was up there.
This realization didn’t even shock me anymore. Maybe it was that unwavering sweet smile. Her down-to-earth and laid-back demeanor, or that she could stand up to Delilah and dropped burns at the most unexpected moments. Whatever the reason, she had me at her mercy.
And I liked it.
“I don’t see your wife.” Delilah looked around. “Where is she?”
“Don’t know.”
“All the better. Then it’s just the two of us.” She slipped her hand under my shirt.
I brought her exploration of my abs to an abrupt halt by gripping her wrist. “Delilah,” I growled. The harder I tried to release her claws from my Tom Ford button-down, the closer I tugged her.
“What?” Her full lips curled into a pout. “This is a pool party. Get undressed already.”
“Pool party, huh?” I downed my Linc and set the tumbler on a small table behind me.
Her eyes widened. “Don’t you d—Keaton!”
I had already snatched her up, bridal style, and shoved past people to the illuminated water.
“Let me down!” Delilah squirmed in my arms.
Too late. With an evil laugh, I jumped into the pool. Water swallowed us, and for a moment, the world went still.
Until the surface split next to us, a body diving in. Several more followed.
I pushed off the floor, bringing a sputtering Delilah up with me.
“You jerk!” She swatted my chest. Laughed.
Our spontaneous dip had provoked a wave of guests cannon-balling into the pool all around us. This was the kind of party I loved. The wilder, the better.
Yet I couldn’t remember a time I’d felt more empty. Layne’s face kept assaulting my gray matter. I’d much rather be upstairs in that room with her than down here.
“Let me down.” Delilah clawed at my arm.
I lifted her onto the pool edge. Even as I heaved myself out of the water, I registered a tall, dark guy in a suit step onto the deck in my peripheral vision. Tatum. About time.
It took me a hot second to plow my way through the crowd. Finally, I caught up with him at the bar. “You know you wear swim trunks to a pool party, right?”
“I’m not here to party.” He picked up the glass of Family Reserve the bartender set in front of him and turned to me. “Pretty rowdy here, even for you,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.
“Tell me about it.” And the more time passed, the rowdier it’d get. The only reason the cops didn’t show up was because my closest neighbor was half a mile away.
Something stabbed into my shoulder. “Excuse meee.”
I glanced back, finding a short woman with pink hair poking me.
“I need you to come with me,” she yell-slurred.
“Why?”
“Because I get money for it. Moneyyyy!”
I looked at Tatum, who looked as confused as I felt, then back at her. “What do you mean?” Was this some stupid bet?
She staggered, and I caught her. Laughing, she clung to me. “Someone called me and said I get money if I seduce you.”
I stilled. Not a bet. That sounded more like the Psycho had switched tactics.
“I need that number,” I said to the woman, scanning the crowd. No one stood out or was watching us.
Her face scrunched up like she was constipated. “I don’t have it.”
“Was it an unknown caller?”
“Yeeeeesss.”
Of course it was. “Man or woman?”
She shrugged.
Very helpful. I grabbed her arm. “Let’s go.”
“Ewwww, you’re wet. Wait, wait, wait. Where are we going?”
“Home.” With a jerk of my head, I indicated Tatum to follow us. We walked through the yard around the house to the front, where we could talk without having to scream at each other. A row of vehicles was parked along the cobblestone drive, more outside the open gate. My ears and brain continued to buzz as if I was still standing right next to one of the speakers. The chirping of crickets coming from the jungle surrounding my property didn’t help.
Just as I was about to ask Tatum for his phone to call a cab, Kimball strutted up to us. Her elegant cocktail dress fit as much to this party as Tatum’s suit, her dark brown hair in a high ponytail. “Heidi, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
“You know her?” I asked.
My sister sighed. “Yeah. I’ll take her home.”
I cocked an eyebrow. Since when did she go out of her way to help someone? What was she even doing here? Kimball was fastidious when it came to parties. Mine were too “primitive” for her, as she liked to remind me whenever I invited her.
Not that I had objections to her offer. I had better things to do than to take care of tanked party guests.
I helped Heidi to Kimball’s Mercedes-Benz convertible, then headed back to Tatum, who looked a little miffed. Then again, he always looked like that.
“Why this party again?” His question was saturated with judgment. Arms folded across his chest, his eyes rested on me. Hard. Unyielding. He knew me too well.
I stripped out of my button-down and wrung the pool water out. “Image stuff.”
“A house party?” Tatum snorted. “Sure, that’ll help. What’s this really about?”
I shook out the shirt, and slipped it back on, not bothering with the buttons. “Are you sure there’s no loophole in the contract?”
“Ah, there it is. You still want to get rid of her.”
“Tatum.”
My growl silenced him. He sighed. “We talked about this before you married her. There’s no way around.”
We had. “You’re one of the best lawyers in this country and tell me you can’t contest a ridiculous contract?”
Hands buried in his suit pants, he shrugged. “It’s time you finally stick it out for once.”
I stared at him. “Come again?”
“You heard me.”
“You kidding? I bust my rear every day for the company you didn’t want to take over.” I stabbed a finger at him. “You’re the one who runs away from everything.”
A shadow darkened Tatum’s features, a muscle in his jaw popping. “At least I’m not licking our parents’ boots every opportunity I get.”
“Yeah, because you’re too busy mourning Soraya. It’s been four years, man. About time you moved on, don’t you think?”
Tatum looked like I’d punched him, his face draining of color.
Cussing, I raised a hand. “I didn’t mean that.”
My brother flipped from a frozen state to black mode. He took a step toward me, his voice a low growl. “I don’t ever want to hear you say her name again, we clear?” His nostrils flared as his icy gaze bored into me. “I love you, Keaton, but going for LGD has turned you into a self-absorbed jerk.”
He turned and stomped out of the yard to his Audi Q7 parked in the middle of the drive.
Raking a hand through my wet hair, I let out another curse. Lately, everything I touched went to crap.
I curled my hand into a fist. He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand that I was doing it for Monroe and Alfie. Sure, having money and power gave me a thrill, but the real reason I wanted to take over was because of them.
But Tatum was right. I had been a self-absorbed jerk. Hurt people in the process, especially Layne.
I needed to talk to her.
Not caring that my shorts were still dripping, I stalked into the house, weaved through the people, and climbed the stairs. Standing in front of Layne’s door, I took a deep breath, then knocked.
No one answered.
“Layne.” I palmed the door frame. Knocked again.
Nothing.
The door was locked, so I unearthed the key and entered. Layne’s bedroom sat in the dark, flickering lights coming from the backyard. Her unmade bed was empty.
She wasn’t here.