Chapter Twenty-Seven Everest （Kane）
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EVEREST (KANE)
RW: My office. One hour.
That’s it. Not even a goddamn hello. Just another one of his orders like I’m supposed to drop everything and come running because the Grand High Asshole of SKU wants a meeting.
It takes everything in me not to tell him to eat shit. My fingers even hover over the reply button, but what comes out is the complete opposite.
Kane: All right.
Nearly an hour later, I enter the reception area, letting the door swing shut behind me.
I slow in front of the office door and reach for the knob as it’s instantly yanked open.
I’m nearly run over by someone. She freezes, eyes wide, skin drained of life, with something between panic and shame tightening her whole frame.
“Excuse me.” She pushes past me, her eyes downcast as she sprints away.
Gracie?
I watch as she races for the exit. She’s a mess, eyes red, shoulders curled inward like she’s trying to disappear into herself.
What the hell?
I glance toward my father’s door. If he’s not being an asshole to everyone he comes in contact with, then the world is sure as shit coming to an end. But it is strange that he’s meeting students so late in the night.
I hear his voice through the cracked opening. It’s low and sharp as steel.
“I don’t know what she was looking for, but I don’t care. Make sure there’s nothing to be found.”
He ends the call as I step into the room. We make eye contact, and for the first time that permanent snarl of his isn’t meant for me but for whoever is on the other end of the line.
“Have a seat.” He gestures to the leather covered chair, but I’m already settling into it before he can finish the statement.
“What’s this about?”
His eyes fall to the laptop on his desk, and his jaw ticks as he sucks in a breath.
I frown at that, a subtle tick in my face as I wonder what’s gotten him so worked up. Whatever he’s looking at has his grip strangling the mouse and his teeth grinding like he’s holding something back.
“Samantha Collins,” he deadpans.
I wince at the mention of her name. Why on earth is he asking me about her?
“What about her?”
With the flick of his wrist, he spins the laptop around. My brows pull tight as I try to register what I’m seeing. Security footage of Sam outside the admin building at night.
But that’s not what perplexes me the most. She’s not alone, and she’s doing a lot more than sneaking around.
Alex is with her, his body pressed into hers, and her mouth on his, back arched, eyes closed like she’s savoring every second of it.
He has one hand on her hip, the other laced at the nape of her neck, while mine curls into a fist against my lap.
I feel the frown lines cementing in place, disdain bubbling at the back of my throat.
It shouldn’t surprise me. This is Alex we’re talking about—golden boy, campus charmer, always gets what he wants. I just didn’t think Sam would be on that wish list.
And that shouldn’t get to me. I don’t care about Sam, what she does, or who she does it with.
But maybe that’s another lie I’ve told myself, right along with the one about not caring about anything.
It was working. People looked at me and saw exactly what I wanted them to—the bitter asshole too checked out to feel anything about anyone, someone cold enough to be untouchable.
But no matter how hard I try to keep her at bay, try to ignore her existence, she’s there. She’s everywhere, incessantly getting under my skin, plaguing me at practice, at games, and in my head.
Hell, I can’t even escape her during a meeting with my father. Richard studies me, almost as if he’s waiting for me to react. As if showing me this solves the question of why I’m here. Or answers why seeing them together angers me so much.
“What’s this have to do with me?” I shift in my seat, working overtime to steel my emotions, refusing to let him see that he’s rattled me.
“I know her mother was a patient at the same facility as yours ten years ago. Know that you were friendly with her.”
I flinch, every nerve tingling as numbness rushes through my veins.
He’s been watching. All this time. I’ve known for two years that he’s been aware of me, but he wasn’t a parent, never truly gave a damn aside from financially providing for us.
Like I’m some experiment left to rot in the corner while he poured all his attention into the golden boy Alex—my brother.
For years he denied us that relationship, kept us so far removed from each other, but close enough to be nothing more than friends.
He’s never asked about my mother’s episodes, never called after the emergency admissions.
Never visited, not that I really expected that since she was clearly his mistress.
But somehow, he knows the year that my life crossed paths with Sam’s.
Is that why she’s here? Was this some meticulous dossier he’s been curating from afar?
What stings the most isn’t the kiss, or that my father only cares right now because it pertains to Alex. But because Alex already has everything. The name, the praise. The acceptance.
Sam was mine. She hates me and I her, but that relationship was mine. Our history—our connection—is twisted, toxic, and half-drowned in silence, but it belonged to me. It was something unfiltered, the one thing I had that no one else did.
But now, it seems Alex has that, too.
“Why am I here?” I bite out. “What does my past with Sam have to do with you?”
“I don’t know where your little relationship with her stands, but I need you to watch her.” He leans back in his chair, his elbows resting on the armrest, his fingers intertwined.
I frown, I’m more curious now than when I came in here.
“Watch her?” My voice cuts through the room.
What could she possibly have done to put her on his watch list?
Is it because of what happened to Jackson? Or something else entirely?
I frown, more curious now than I was when I walked in here. “You’re serious.”
“She’s digging,” he says. “Into things that don’t concern her. And dragging Alex into it.”
“I’m not doing this,” I snap and push up from my seat. “If you think I’m going to clean up your mess—”
“Son.”
I dart my gaze to him, completely caught off guard. Son? How fucking dare he? In all this time, he’s never addressed me as such, but now that he needs something from me, now that Alex has got himself caught up with Sam, I’m his son.
I lean in, my voice dropping to a growl.
“Don’t call me your son just because you’ve run out of ways to control Alex. You want him away from Sam? Figure that shit out yourself. But whatever you do, keep me out of it.”
I turn to exit, still seething at the audacity.
“Your mother’s care is expensive. I’d hate to see anything interfere with that,” he says, staring as if he just handed me a deal and not a threat.
My vision goes red, and I lunge forward, my fist cocked and ready to send it straight through his smug face.
“Don’t be stupid, Everest.” He shoots up, standing his ground. “You want the money? Do this and your mother’s treatment will be covered in full by tomorrow.”
He knows the exact strings to pull to keep me in check. Bastard. As much as I want to walk out right now, and tell him where he can shove it, I don’t.
“What do I need to do?” I snarl.
“Watch the harlot and keep her away from your brother. Find out what she’s after, and dead it.”
“How do you even know that she’s been looking for something? What if you’re—”
“I have eyes all over this campus.”
I stare at him, trying to process all that’s he’s said. What is Sam involved in?
“How am I supposed to do that when you won’t tell me what I’m supposed to be looking for? She and I aren’t exactly friends.”
“You’re smart.” He shrugs. “Handsome. I’m sure you can find ways to convince her.”
“Trying to pimp me out?”
“Whatever it takes.” He breathes out. “She’s already made a mess with Kincaid, and I’ve protected her. But if she starts digging in the wrong places, it won’t end well for her.”
Before I can respond or demand answers he’ll never give, his cell buzzes against his desk. His wife’s picture flashes on the screen. He picks up the cell and adjusts the sleeve of his blazer.
“You can go,” he orders before answering and bringing it to his ear.
Whatever Sam’s digging into—whatever this is—it’s bigger than some kiss outside an admin building. Bigger than him pitting me against my brother.
This isn’t about protecting Alex. It’s about control. And if he thinks I’m going to play the loyal son now, he’s got another think coming. I don’t know what Sam’s gotten herself into, but I’m going to find out.
And when I do, he won’t be the only one pulling strings.
I should leave.
But I can’t turn away.
I try. I mentally will myself to move my feet back in the other direction.
My brain must have other plans because instead I remain cemented in place.
A part of me needs to know why my father’s interested in her and how she’s involved with Alex.
I meant it when I told Richard that who Alex fucks is none of my business.
Only this feels like my business. She feels like my business, and that irritates me. Whether I want to admit it out loud or not.
My knuckles rap against the door, and I wait. When no one comes, I knock once more, this time harder. Then it opens, and Sam’s face appears. Even in the shit glow of the hallway, I can see the panic spread on her face.
Without a word, I push against the door and step inside.
No greeting or introduction needed. She looks at me like I crawled out of hell.
And maybe I did. Sam’s frozen state lasts only a moment before she snatches up the throw blanket on her bed and haphazardly throws it over her laptop and papers there.
“What are you doing here?” Sam asks, the frown forming before she finishes the question, her eyes falling to the bottle of whiskey still in my hand.