Chapter 4
Chapter Four
DORIAN
The thud of my axe hitting wood echoed in my ears and felt good. Of course, I was going to regret this later. Hell, I was already regretting it. I was a damn idiot, but then again, this was something I knew. Me being an idiot wasn’t anything outrageously new or fantastic.
After all, hello, I woke up being an idiot, went to sleep being an idiot, and would remain one until the end of my days.
Another whack, as I split a log and tried not to groan. I rolled my shoulders back, the axe nearly falling out of my hand. I set it so it rested against the larger base log, before I tossed the split logs of the wood onto the pile.
The old Ackerson place, as it had been named years before I was born, wasn’t exactly falling down around itself, but close.
It was larger than a cabin but not a huge estate like my father would have preferred when we’d been growing up.
I didn’t even know why we still called it the old Ackerson place considering a Cage had owned it for nearly two decades. Only he’d done it in secret.
It would take months of backbreaking labor for me to get it into shape to sell, but that’s what happens when you neglected a place for so long.
It seemed only fitting that the place that my father used for whatever illicit practices he decided to undertake away from the prying eyes of town, and both Cage mothers, would be the one falling into pieces. Neglect had no better name than Loren Cage.
I set up another log, rolled my shoulders once again, and let out a grunt as I split it in two.
With each movement my burn scars twisted and stretched, and the bile rising in my throat told me I was probably going to end up in more pain than I should be—I deserved it.
Especially after what I had done with Harper.
Talk about fucking up a reunion. I had just been tongue-tied seeing her. I knew it. But what the hell had she been doing out alone?
Whack, another log, another wheeze from my throat because I was out of shape when it came to this type of movement.
My knee was already swelling, and I would have to limp back up the deck stairs that would probably crumble beneath me thanks to the rotted core of them. Yet part of me whispered I deserved it—just like my father.
I had a feeling I knew why dear old dad had left this place to me in the will outside of the other Cage’s purview.
Only the damn lawyer had known about it and hadn’t had the grace to tell me until after the plane crash.
It most likely had been stuck in probate and had been an addendum in some will that no one had seen.
I didn’t know the timeline, and I frankly didn’t care. Maybe he had just hidden it until the perfect time to annoy the fuck out of me. That seemed like something a lawyer my dad would employ would do.
I hated this place. Every time I walked through that door down the hall with the tattered wallpaper and partially rotted subfloor, I could scent Dad’s cigar smoke.
That tobacco wafting through the air and seeping into the walls themselves.
The sound of ice clinking against glass as he sipped at his bourbon, talking in wild tones to whoever dared to listen.
This was the place he made his deals, the ones that were above board, because Dad never broke the law. Not when it came to making money. Because those who had shady assets were prone to lose them. They soared far too high in the sky, daring the sun to shine upon them as if they were Icarus.
It only made sense that my father would go about making his millions the legal way. Everything else in his life he tended to go about ass backwards. Not only having a secret family, but a mistress or two along the way.
I swore I could hear the sound of that giggle, and then maybe that hearty laugh of another woman. Countless women who had strolled through this house because they had wanted a piece of a Cage and hadn’t cared that they were the other woman. Or even the other woman’s third-placed trophy.
I hated it here.
Yet I was going to fix it up. Sell it. And never look at the damn place again. Maybe I would get tired of it and burn it down to the ground so nobody could live underneath its roof. Honestly, that probably sounded like a better idea.
Ignoring my obvious thoughts that were going in a direction I did not want to think about, I went back to splitting wood so the house would be somewhat warm for the rest of the winter.
It had a decent heating system, but for all I knew the wiring was going to catch the place on fire.
Which again, wouldn’t be a bad thing most likely.
After another twenty minutes, my knee finally decided to say enough was enough and nearly buckled.
Annoyed, I tossed the last log on the pile, then used my forearm to wipe the sweat from my brow.
“Wow, I didn’t realize that you were going for the mountain man look. The Henley works, but I think you need to add the flannel like your dear old brother does.”
Shoulders tensed, I carefully set the axe aside and turned to see Weston, my brother-in-law, a man that I had known for years and called a friend, as well as Hudson, my brother who happened to live in Cage Lake full-time.
When the Cages had built the town, they had decided to do it in sections. The main houses of the family were situated around the lake itself that was on the north end of town. Then the main street of town bisected where the residential and commercial areas would be.
Each of the residential areas tended to be off the side streets and blended into the river area on the west that butted up against the mountains, and the resort area passed the forest on the east side. And of course, because the Cages were Cages, they owned the resort as well.
When Dad had overseen everything, we hadn’t had the ability to take care of the town as much as we wanted.
And when Hudson had finally gotten out of the service, and found himself in need of solitude for reasons that he wouldn’t tell us to this day, he had ended up moving to Cage Lake full-time and taking care of all the minor business issues that came when you owned many of the buildings in the city.
Rent had to be dealt with, as did little things like repairs and upkeep. We also owned enough land in the area so people couldn’t build on any more than they already had.
For all my dad’s faults, he did care about preserving this town. It had never become too commercial, and if my generation had anything to say about that, it would continue not to be.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying not to let the bite in my tone sound too annoyed.
But when both men just gave me a look, I knew I hadn’t succeeded.
“You don’t call. You don’t write. You just show up, pretend you’re a mountain man.” Weston drawled. “I thought the surly asshole Cage was the guy next to me. Not you.”
“Fuck you,” Hudson rumbled, before he moved forward and yanked the last piece of wood from my hand.
“You do realize you’re doing all this all wrong, don’t you?” he asked. For a moment I thought he knew exactly how I had fucked up seeing Harper again. But instead he gestured towards the log pile.
“You stacked it wrong.”
“How the hell can I stack wood wrong?”
“Like how you did it. Because if you’re not careful, it’s going to all roll on top of you.”
“It’s fine.”
Hudson mumbled something under his breath I didn’t hear before he moved forward. “I’ll fix it.”
“You don’t need to fix my mistakes,” I grumbled.
Hudson didn’t listen. Instead he picked up the axe and continued my job, rearranging things when I couldn’t even say a damn word about it.
“I see he’s still the grumpiest of us.” Weston shook his head. “Come on, you can get me something to drink.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, my knee aching. “You invite yourself here and then you expect me to entertain you? That sounds brilliant.”
Weston smiled though I wasn’t sure it reached his eyes when he looked at me. Of course, that was probably a projection. “I am brilliant. Thank you. Your sister tells me that all the time.”
That made me snort, the smile on my face feeling slightly disused. “I’m pretty sure Isabella has never said that.”
Weston smiled like a man in love. A man who had his life before him and was damn happy with the outcome. “Your sister loves me. And one day she’s going to marry me, and you’re going to have to deal with me as your real brother-in-law, rather than just playacting as we’re doing now.”
That made me roll my eyes. “I call you my brother-in-law in my head, so whenever you get the balls to actually propose, it won’t change much.”
“You always say the kindest things.” He shrugged as I followed him into the old house.
The place had already been furnished when I moved in, and though there had been a caretaker thanks to the lawyer, they hadn’t done much. It left little to be desired. And from the look on Weston’s face, he agreed.
“By the way, I’ll propose eventually. When Isabella’s least expecting it.”
I snorted. “Seriously?”
Weston leaned against the counter, that knowing and secret smile once again on his face. “That woman is amazing at everything she does and likes things in a certain way. So I’m going to surprise her. Because you know how she loves surprises.”
“I might not have grown up with my sister, but I know her well enough to know that you are delusional.” Isabella was headstrong, brilliant, and always spoke her mind when it came to protecting those she loved.
As the eldest of her branch of the family, she reminded me of Aston in a lot of ways.
And oddly enough, a little bit of Theo in the way she pushed in a kind way.
“But she loves me.” Weston just smiled. “And I was waiting for the twins to be settled in college and my brother to be set with his next phase in his career, that way I didn’t have to play big brother.”