Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SILAS
“I told you we’d get our spooky freak on.”
“ W hose turn is it?”
“Not mine.”
“Daniel’s.”
“Bollocks. I did it yesterday morning.”
Cade groans, “And I did it the day before.”
“Jeez,” Eily mutters into our pillow. “Next year, I’m buying coffee makers with timers.”
“Don’t spoil them.” I squeeze her tighter, refusing to open my eyes. “Their ass ain’t too precious to get up and press a button.”
“Mine is,” Redix murmurs.
“Same,” Charlie yawns.
“Thirty more minutes.”
Daniel orders us to sleep more, so I sigh, burrowing my nose in Eily’s hair as she wedges into me. Then Charlie twists with Daniel, stealing covers. They make Redix rub against my backside, trying to stay warm, so I burrow against him, too, while Cade’s soft yawn sounds cute .
Finally, our cuddling silence fills the air.
Until…
“Let me do the honors.”
A bassy voice rumbles, and I jolt upright.
We all do.
Sitting in a chair at the edge of our bed is a large, looming silhouette of a man. There’s enough foggy morning light to see his black cropped hair. Raven wool coat. Sable leather gloves. Kohl fitted turtleneck. Onyx tailored pants. Black scuffed boots.
And glacial eyes staring at us.
“Who the fuck?” I lean for my rifle under the bed, but?—
“No need for your Remington, Mr. Van de May,” he says. “Or Ms. Ravenel’s Tanfoglio 9 in her handbag. Or Ms. Bryant’s sleeper hold. Or any of you gentlemen rising. By all means, stay warm and cozy where you are.”
He leans over in his chair, its wood creaking, while he presses the button on the coffee maker sitting on the table for us.
“Thanks, Mr. Cummings.” Eily yawns with a big stretch. “I’ll take mine with five sugars.”
I snarl, “While I’ll take a fucking explanation as to why you’re here.”
“And how you want to die if you take one step our way,” Daniel warns.
“And where you want your unmarked grave.” Redix isn’t joking.
“My, my,” he taunts. “Someone’s grouchy in the morning.”
Eily chirps, “We just need coffee.”
“We just need answers,” Cade growls. “ Now .”
I glance at her. She’s dead serious and stunningly topless: a dick-stirring combo. One Mr. Cumming’s smirk makes it obvious he appreciates.
“I think you have all the intel you require, Sergeant Bryant,” he corrects her. “I answered your call. I’m here and taking my next breath. I’m minding my manners, though they seemed to have escaped you when you met my colleague yesterday.”
“ Cade ,” Eily sighs with an eyeroll in her voice, “what did you do at Delta’s?”
“Nothing.”
Cade’s guilty.
“Nothing?” Cummings raises a dark brow. “Mr. Allen informed me you were trying to break into my meeting room.”
“Who the bloody hell keeps a meeting room in a sex shop?”
Daniel’s fuming, I’m clenching my jaw, and I know Redix has a fist cocked.
Cummings smirks. “Who the bloody hell wouldn’t convene in a sex store? It makes for meaningful meetings.”
Eily giggles. “I told y’all he’s sexy.”
Barely, Cummings grins, nodding at my wife, and … oh, hell no . I rise from our bed, buck naked and fucking pissed. “Answer our questions, or you’re not leaving my island alive.”
His stare boldly rakes my frame, from my glaring eyes to my bare feet back up to my hard morning wood, pausing to admire it.
Then he slants a look at the others in bed. “I quite admire your lifestyle. Swinging intrigues me.”
“We don’t swing.” Charlie’s not amused. “We love each other. There are deep emotions involved. Strong relationships and bonds. Care to test them? ”
“No test needed,” his response is low.
There’s something cold about this man with heat in his eyes—eyes that look like clear, blue ice. They’re so intense, his frigid stare burns. It’s an unnatural mix and it flares my nostrils.
“Were you here this week?”
Cade starts her interrogation while I watch his gloved hands. If they make one move for his jacket, I’m on him. No matter the cost.
But he rubs them, palm to palm, like he’s contemplating. “No.”
“Bullshit,” Charlie says. “I heard you last night.”
“Wasn’t me.”
“You were on the shore.”
“Wasn’t me.”
I seethe, “I heard you in the woods.”
Calmly, he answers, “I first arrived an hour ago, Mr. Van de May. My Cigarette is at your dock.”
“A racing boat,” Redix scoffs. “Like that doesn’t scream, ‘Criminal on the run.’”
The muscles in Cumming’s jaw flex. It’s hard to detect under the shadow of his dark beard, but any man would see it—any man about to beat the shit out of another.
“Y’all, quit being rude.” Eily jerks the blanket, making everyone look at her. “He’s my guest. I asked him to come, and now he’s here and telling the truth.” Eily turns, smiling at him. “Mr. Cummings, would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Van de May.”
“We have warm biscuits and sweet tea in the black tent. Not the one with sex furniture in it. That’s where we fuck. The other tent is where we eat.” She pauses. “Eat food , I mean. Care to join us for breakfast? ”
A smile tickles his lips. “No, thank you, Mrs. Van de May.”
Of course, my wife has him bewitched.
The rest of us?
We’d be another blood splatter on his clothes worn to hide it.
“Why did you help her?” I ask. “Why did you agree to do this spook-us-shit for my wife, but then you bailed on her? Where are your manners?”
Cade sneers, “Criminals don’t have them.”
Again, his jaw clenches.
Again, Eily groans, “ Caaade. Stop.”
But Cade can’t help it. She’d kill for us, and I love that about her.
“And why would you risk your arrangement with Stacey?” Daniel talks business. “She clearly trusts you if she allows you in her establishment. So why did you bugger off and not help Eily?”
“My apologies.” He watches us closely. “I enjoyed helping Mrs. Van de May last year and?—”
“The Chucky dolls in the bathroom?” Eily sounds smitten. “Was that you last year?”
He blinks.
“Nope, that was me,” Redix confesses.
“The eyeball gummy candies in our cereal?”
“Again,” Redix answers Cade, “me.”
“The red Kool-Aid in the shower head?” Daniel probes.
Cummings nods.
“The bloody handprints on my new white bedspreads?”
“Red food coloring and latex gloves,” Cummings answers Eily. “I’ll send replacements.”
“The bloody envelopes left with pictures of us all week?” Redix sneers .
“You were captivating subjects.”
“The chainsaw we heard one night?”
He unclasps his hands, telling Charlie, “Thought I would clear a few things away for you.”
“My missing Shun Kaji knives?”
His stare challenges, but his words assure me, “You’ll find them back in their block this morning.”
This man is an enigma. An enigma who’s been in my house.
Cade clocks it, “So, you get off on scaring people with blood and weapons?”
His eyes sharpen. “Dolls and sweet things aren’t my style.”
“Yeah, and bullshit ain’t mine,” I answer. “So why were you here last year, but not this week?”
“Regretfully,” he addresses Eily, “business kept me from helping you this year. Again, my apologies, Mrs. Van de May.”
“You never answered Silas,” Cade persists. “Why did you agree to help Eily in the first place?”
“I’ve seen her around.” A faint smile lifts his lips. “I’m quite fond of her.”
“Fond of my wife will get you found dead.”
“Oh, Silas.” Eily shivers with a grin. “I get so wet when you talk like that.” Then she urges, “But y’all, seriously, settle down. He belongs to Ms. Faye’s sex club. I saw him there, then we bumped into each other on Meeting Street.”
“Where your firm is,” I add. “You’ve closed some deals for us. Like this island. We know who you pretend to be.”
“Pretend to be? No.” For a moment, he’s fire and fury. “I am .”
He is … what?
It’s the question in our threatening eyes before his turn to ice, cooly answering, “I was the attorney who represented the seller in the closing on your island, yes. That’s what brings me here this morning.” He stares down Cade. “Despite Ms. Bryant’s felonious invitation, I came to bring you this.”
He reaches inside his black coat, and Charlie barks, “You better move that fucking hand so slow, I can count the stitches on your glove.”
She shocks me, lifting her 9mm from underneath her pillow with Daniel and aiming it at Cummings.
But Daniel yawns, not surprised. Guess that’s how Charlie sleeps well at night nowadays, and I can’t blame her.
And Cummings doesn’t flinch. No, he expected it from Charlie. We’re playing his game now, and it’s fun for him.
The wicked fucker smiles.
Leisurely, pulling a small black gift box out of his jacket’s inside pocket, he offers it to me, explaining, “I thought you and Mrs. Van de May would appreciate having this. My firm found it doing their due diligence on this island.”
Like a kid at Christmas, Eily beats me to it.
She crawls to Mr. Cummings like he’s Santa Claus.
Yes, she does it naked and across our group bed, so there’s a part of me that ain’t scared of this man. We’d fucking kill him, and he’s not here to hurt us.
But every cell in my body knows he’s capable of hurting others.
Scratch that.
Capable? No. Culpable.
Cummings wears guilt like his thin, platinum nose ring. I just noticed it. And the diamond studs in his ears.
Does he look like your typical genteel Southern lawyer?
Hell to the mafia, no .
Still, he didn’t draw a weapon. He offered a gift, so Charlie lowers her gun, resting it on her lap, while Eily pops the box open.
“What is it?” Cade sounds suspicious. “A bloody horse head?”
That makes Cummings laugh. It sounds unwelcome in his gravel voice. “Hurting innocent animals isn’t my style either.”
“But hurting innocent people is?” Charlie’s got the 9 and the upper hand.
“Never,” he replies. “What an utter waste of life and time.”
“Oh my god.”
But Eily’s gasp grabs our attention. She’s staring into the box like Pandora is staring back at her.
“Eily, what is it?”
I don’t like this man’s affection for my wife.
Yeah, I’ll share her with the ones we love. But I’ll gut someone who hurts her. I practice on fish all the time.
“It’s him,” Eily answers. “It’s Lois Ravenel.”
She turns to crawl across the bed, showing the gift to Charlie while showing her sexy, naked pussy to Cummings, too.
He cocks his head at it, and I warn, “Erase the sight from your mind, or I’ll erase you.”
His stare won’t leave Eily, who’s showing something to Charlie while Cummings casually scoffs, “Relax, Mr. Van de May. I find my feminine amusements elsewhere.”
“Yeah, well, I find them with my wife, so avert your eyes.” Then I boss, “Eily, get under the sheets with Charlie. And Daniel, cover her up.”
Do I sound like a possessive asshole?
With goddamn bells on, I do .
But Eily doesn’t care. She shows Charlie whatever is in that box.
“What is it?” I bark.
Casually, Cummings answers, “It’s an antique, hand-painted miniature portrait we found of Marquis Lois Armand de Ravenel. The nobleman who immigrated from Orléans, France, and came to Charleston to hide as a pagan among the Protestants.”
“It is him,” Charlie gushes. “It’s the man I saw in my?—”
“When you were possessed?”
“Yeah,” she answers Cade. “Except he’s wearing a wig or has super long brown hair in this painting, but it’s him. It’s my great, great, great, whatever uncle.”
“Oui!” Eily sounds thrilled. “It’s our haint, and he’s hot! I bet he was getting lots of oh la la love in his day.”
“So, what is this?” I challenge Cummings, “An apology for letting my wife down?”
“No, it’s a deal,” he answers. “I’ll stay off your island, and you’ll stay out of my meeting room.”
“Or?”
Cade loves danger.
“Or,” he answers, “you’ll join us.”
“Please,” Charlie laughs, “you’re on a first-name basis with the bottom of the deck, and we know which end is up.”
“She means hell no,” I translate.
“You want Silas’s money,” Redix sneers.
“No, I have money.” Cummings gestures to my island. “But I appreciate his resources. They’re valuable. As is your fame, Mr. Dean.” He nods at Daniel. “Mr. Pierce. You can get meetings with powerful people.”
“And do what?” Cade asks. “Extort them? Is that the deal your colleague Mr. Allen offered Vale? And Stacey? Join us, or else?”
He sneers, “Nash would never hurt Vale.”
“Nash?”
“Yes.” The ice in his eyes blazes. “Nash Allen. He’d never hurt Vale; she’s his daughter’s best friend. And we’re protective of Stacey, of all her staff at Delta’s. We’re … close with them.”
I have no idea why a man like him would invite people like us to join him. I guess Stacey’s right. Deep down, I have to trust her.
I have to trust Cummings is not who he seems.
“So help you mafia god, if you’re coercing Stacey or Vale,” Cade swears, “Mr. Nash Allen knows exactly what we’ll do to him and you. Now, that’s a felonious invitation.”
Cummings coldly seethes while we burn with warning.
“Okay!” So, Eily climbs to her feet, standing on the bed. “That’s enough.”
Tension, testosterone, and coffee waft through the tent, and so much for my wife’s modesty and my possessiveness. She has no shame about her naked body.
Please take a picture. She’d smile for it.
But not now.
She’s pissed.
“This is some boo-shit!” Eily stomps her foot on the mattress. “Y’all are NOT ending our Trick and Treat week like an anal fissure.”
Redix snorts.
He knows.
“Now,” she bosses, “we have a goodbye, silent, naked play party with our guests after breakfast this morning. Then we six,”—she stabs her finger at us—“are sketching some house ideas because we’re starting next week on our dream for Indigo Island.
“And you,” she whips around to Cummings, “are not hurting our friends. Promise.”
Smoothly, Cummings stands. He buttons his coat before turning to the coffee. Pouring some into a mug, he smirks, “I promise, Mrs. Van de May.”
Like wolves, we watch him lift a silver spoon and neatly add five scoops of sugar. His black-gloved hand stirs before turning with the steaming mug and carefully handing it to Eily, standing naked on our bed before him.
It’s like the lion and the mouse.
But somehow, that lion knew the “I Put the Boo In Booty” mug with a cute, tushy ghost belonged to my mouse, Eily.
“May you six enjoy building your dreams together,” he says before turning to leave.
“Wait!” Eily shouts.
He turns around.
“What’s your real name?”
His lip curls.
“For me? Pretty please?” She swishes, “I’ll give you all my Halloween candy.”
She makes his eyes laugh as he takes a long look at us, and I know it’s not the last time we’ll meet.
He studies Eily, swiping his gloved thumb over his bottom lip. It leaves a trail of blood behind before he turns around and walks out, answering over his shoulder.
“Axel.”
Sipping her coffee, Eily turns around and finds us staring at her like she just flirted with the devil.
“What?” She smiles, batting her lashes. “I told you we’d get our spooky freak on.”