Chapter Twenty-One
Cove
B oyfriend.
Ugh. I hate that I even had to play along.
We’re fuck buddies at best. Not boyfriends. Dragon wouldn’t know what to do with a boyfriend. Sure, in the bedroom, he’d do more than just fine, but he’s too much of a lunatic to be in an actual relationship with someone.
Keep telling yourself that…
I’m annoyed at the way my heart squeezed when he’d announced that I was his boyfriend in front of everyone earlier. I want to hate him with every fiber of my being, but he makes it so damn hard.
Literally.
Every time I think I have myself convinced I can keep my distance from him, he does something to draw me back into his seductive world. His mouth is magical and his touch is perfection. Sleeping curled up against him was a fantasy come to life.
It’s when he speaks that he ruins everything.
Always running his mouth and saying the wrong thing.
Not to mention, he’s a bloodthirsty psychopath.
“This way?” Filter asks, pointing at the exit on the highway.
Dragon nods, the movement clipped and sharp. His hand is fisted, resting on the center console, knuckles white. I think he’s nervous about being so close to home. My own mother died when I was a baby, so I don’t remember much of her. Grandma and Stormy took on the motherly role in my life. But if I had a chance to see my mother again, I’d absolutely take it. It must be hard on Dragon to get so close and not be able to see his mom or family.
An ache forms in my gut. I’m supposed to be mad at him for making me try on every goddamn outfit at the shop earlier, but I’m not. I can’t be. Not when he seems so vulnerable right now. This is what makes everything confusing with Dragon. If he could just remain a dickheaded monster all the time, I would be able to keep my distance. But the more I get to know him, the more normal he becomes.
And I like this side of him.
The layers I’m peeling off reveal someone real. So real.
“Anything you want me to say to her?” I ask, my voice soft. “Anything you want me to ask?”
Dragon jerks his head to look at me over his shoulder. He sweeps his intense green eyes over my outfit. I feel like a doll dressed up and expected to perform. My hair looks stupid, but Dragon fixed it and said it’ll work for today, so I have to trust him.
“No,” he grinds out.
“Don’t you want her to know you’re alive and well?” Nees asks, uncertainty making him trail off.
Dragon’s body tenses. “I said no.”
“Okayyyy,” Nees drawls out. “Whatever, man.”
Filter lets out a sharp whistle. “This neighborhood?”
“Yep,” Dragon bites out. “Got a problem?”
“Nope,” Filter mutters. “Just didn’t realize how loaded your family was.”
Dragon ignores him, gesturing with small flicks of his wrist each time he needs to make a turn. “Stop here.”
Filter pulls up to a massive home with a sprawling yard. Behind it, you can see a golf course that spans for as far as the eye can see. This house puts Koyn’s big-ass mansion to shame. The yard is neat and beautifully landscaped. There’s no white picket fence signifying the traditional American dream, but it’s probably against the homeowner association’s code or some shit.
While we got ready earlier, Dragon filled us in on details about his family. A lot was recent stuff, which means he regularly checks in on them. He revealed countless facts like it wasn’t all obtained by stalking his family.
It’s sad.
Heartbreaking really.
“Don’t curse in front of my mother,” Dragon says to Nees. “I’ll throat punch you if you do.”
Nees groans, absently rubbing his neck. “Dude. Chill. It’ll be fine.”
“Don’t try to fuck her either,” Dragon snaps. “That’ll get you worse than a throat punch.”
“Duly noted,” Nees mutters as he climbs out.
Before I can follow him out, Dragon reaches back, grabbing my arm to stop me. Our eyes meet and his flicker with brief pain that nearly knocks the breath out of me.
“Find out all you can,” he says, voice low and pleading. “We have to find him.”
Leaning forward, I peck his lips, hoping to convey that I’ve got this. We’ll find Mitch. That’s a promise. He releases me with a nod and I slide out of the vehicle. Together, Nees and I walk up to the stately home.
Nees knocks on the door. I shove my hands in my pockets, unsure what to do with them. A few minutes later, the door opens. My eyes widen briefly as I take in the woman standing before us.
Beautiful.
Not just beautiful, but ridiculously gorgeous.
She has the same intense green eyes as her son. Same nearly black hair. Same high cheekbones and height. With her heels, she’s every bit as tall as Dragon. Even her mouth is the same, though her smile is friendly and I’ve never seen Dragon’s lips behave in a friendly way.
“May I help you?” she asks in greeting, her smile strained.
“We came to see Mitch,” Nees says, lifting his chin. “Is he here?”
Her lips press into a firm line and her gaze hardens. “I’m sorry, but he’s not.”
“Where can we find him?” Nees persists.
“I apologize, but I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Lindsay Thomas. How do you know Mitch?”
“Friends from school,” I chime in. “He’s not answering his phone. I’m Cove Gale and this is Blake Koynakov.”
Her eyes dart between us, scrutinizing our every detail. “Funny. I know everyone at his school and yet I’ve never heard of you.”
“Trust me,” I say, leveling her with a hard stare. “We know your son and care about him.”
Dragon is still her son and that statement is the truth, much to my surprise.
Her body loses some of its rigidness. “Come on in, then.”
We follow her into the nicest home I’ve ever been in. Everything is decorated to perfection. Though Koyn’s and the clubhouse are pretty sweet, I’ve never actually lived anyplace nice. When I was a baby, we were poor and then when we lived with Grandma, we were still poor. I can’t imagine growing up like this.
Lindsay’s heels clack across the hardwood floors as she guides us through the foyer to a formal sitting room. No television or family pictures. Just expensive looking artwork and even more expensive looking furniture. At least with the way Dragon dressed us, we fit in here and I don’t have to worry about dirtying up her pristine white sofa.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Yes, please,” I say politely.
“Coffee okay?”
Me and Nees nod. She walks over to a discreet speaker on the wall and pushes a button.
“Martha, can you bring my guests some coffee and refreshments, please? We’re in the parlor.”
Nees widens his eyes at me and mocks silently, “We’re in the parlor.”
Ignoring him, I dart my eyes over the room, looking for any clues that this woman’s world has been turned upside down by having another missing child. Nothing. Everything is in its place. Interesting. Or fucking weird. Definitely not normal.
“So,” Lindsay chirps, coming to sit down in an armchair opposite of where we’ve sat down on the sofa. “Tell me when you last saw him.”
Me and Nees exchange a quick look before I clear my throat and straighten my spine.
“It’s been a while,” I lie. “You?”
“Two days ago.” Her nostrils flare. “He went on a hiking trip with his friend.”
“Friend?”
“Yes,” she says coolly. “He apparently has many of them.”
“Did he mention which friend?”
“Taylor. They’re good friends. Play ball together. Which you already know…” She trails off, hiking up a sculpted brow. “Right?”
“Right,” Nees rushes out. “Do you know why he wouldn’t be answering his phone?”
“I’m sure it’s because he’s somewhere that’s out of cell range.” She swallows hard, eyes narrowing. “Is that all?”
We’re interrupted by a young woman who rolls in a cart. There’s a coffee carafe, a few mugs, and a plate of baked goods. She brings it close to us and then sets to pouring everyone a cup. The air is filled with awkward silence, none of us willing to talk about anything in front of the woman who must be Martha. Eventually, she leaves us alone and Lindsay is quick to strike, reminding me of her oldest son.
“Cut to the chase, boys. Who are you and why are you really here?” She sips her coffee. “Answer carefully because my husband will be here any minute with my sons.”
Nees makes himself at home, grabbing a handful of cookies, leaving me to answer this woman with fire blazing in her eyes.
“We have reason to believe he’s been kidnapped,” I say softly.
Her face pales and her hand trembles. She sets the mug down on the coffee table before searing me with a furious glare. “What kind of games are you playing?”
“No games,” I rush out. “I just…we…” I rub at my temple, trying to ease the headache that’s forming. “You know he’s missing. Question is, why aren’t you reporting it?”
She sucks in a sharp breath before pinning me with a look that could melt glaciers. Dragon isn’t a psycho because of his time with the Royal Bastards. He’s a psycho because it’s genetic.
“I’ve lost one child. I can’t lose another.” She swallows and smooths out her long dark hair with a shaking hand. “Mitch is just angry. Avoiding us.”
“Angry?”
“It’s the only explanation. He knows how I feel about him checking in with me. I’m adamant about knowing who his friends are and who he hangs out with at all times because…”
“Because you lost Chase.”
Her head snaps to mine and a sheen of tears forms in her green eyes. “You’ve read up and done your homework, I see.”
“Is it possible,” I hedge, “that the same person who took Chase also took Mitch?”
“Get. Out.”
“Ma’am,” I say, holding my palms up as I stand. “Hear me out—”
“I said, get out,” she snaps, also rising to her feet. “I want you out of my house.”
“Okay. We’ll leave, but can you tell me more about the friend he’s supposed to be with?”
“Mitch and Taylor are friends. Taylor isn’t answering his phone either. It’s not unusual for them to go hiking and camp out. They go all the time with Taylor’s father.”
“Have you spoken to Taylor’s father?” Nees asks. “Has he spoken to Taylor?”
“Who are you and why are you two so concerned with the whereabouts of my son?” she demands, not answering his questions.
“I’m your son’s boyfriend,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
“That’s impossible. Mitch isn’t gay or even bisexual…”
No, lady, but your other one is.