CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
JORDAN
Thud thud thud.
I jolted awake, looking around me. This wasn’t my bedroom. It wasn’t Seven’s room. It wasn’t even my old bedroom. I rubbed at my eyes as the knocking returned.
“Rise and shine, cupcake!”
Axel’s voice. Then the doorknob turned. Axel strutted in a moment later, bringing memories with him. The fuck-you feast from the night before. The vast quantities of wine consumed. The laughter, the fun, the bone-deep warmth.
I groaned, looking toward the nightstand. I grabbed my phone to check the time. Ten a.m. “Aren’t you up early…?”
“Is ten early for you?” He strode to the curtains along the far wall, tearing them open like a museum director revealing his finest art. Sunlight streamed in, making me squint.
“Considering what time we went to bed last night…yeah.”
He grinned, easing into an armchair along the wall. “Well, I’ve got a lot of annoying big brother activities to catch up on. The wedgies are coming next.”
I collapsed back onto my pillow, laughing. My brothers were hilarious—a fact I was reminded of by the distant muscle pain I had from so much laughter the night before.
“Damian will handle the noogies,” he went on.
“Then I’ll have to make up for lost annoying little sister time somehow,” I shot back. “I might hack your social media accounts and tell the world how much you love eating boogers if you’re not careful.”
Axel’s eyes turned to slits. “Don’t you dare.”
Damian popped his head into the bedroom. “Morning, Jordan. You hungry?”
“I have no idea,” I told him. “I’m either famished or repulsed by the idea of food.”
“Sounds like a hangover,” he said. “Trace and I made brunch if you want anything.”
“Thanks, guys.” I grinned over at Damian. “I’ll just go wash my face and then be out.”
Axel came to his feet, headed for the door. “I won’t forget about the wedgie, just so you know.” He sent me one last smile before he pulled the door shut behind him. I relished the comfortable, safe silence. I liked sleeping over at my brothers’ penthouse. No, I loved it.
Just like I loved rebuilding these family ties.
I looked down at my hands, my chin wobbling as emotion found me so early in my day. Seven would be proud of all the progress we made last night as a family. But he hadn’t shown up.
I tore myself out of the extra-comfy bed and slipped into the attached bathroom to get ready for the day. After washing my face and changing clothes, I found Axel, Damian, and Trace at the main island in the kitchen, munching on bacon. Zero sat at Axel’s feet, perking up as I walked in.
“Morning, Jordan,” Trace called out.
“Hey guys.” I paused to pet Zero’s glossy, boxy head, planting a kiss on him before settling on an open stool facing the spread they’d laid out. Zero stood and stretched, then repositioned himself at my feet. “Which cook should I be thanking today?”
“Mostly him.” Damian jerked his thumb toward Trace. “Though I oversaw the bacon crisping.”
“It looks exceptionally crispy,” I said. “Just how I like it.”
“Must be a Haynes thing,” Axel mused. “If Trace had his way he’d serve it half-raw.”
“Hey now,” Trace said, lifting his palms. “I like it softer. Not still oinking.”
“We need to enjoy the bacon now,” Axel muttered. “Because who knows if we’ll get it in prison?”
Damian wilted slightly. “Axel—” But he didn’t say anything more.
My gut wrenched—there was darkness lapping at the edges of our conversation now, and I could feel how it threatened to pull them under. Me included.
“You guys don’t know if you’re going,” I reminded them, reaching for the perfectly crisp bacon. “I think this is going to blow over.”
“I appreciate your optimism,” Damian said softly.
“We heard from the lawyer last week,” Axel said, clearing his throat. “They’ve set the first trial date. It’s in a month and a half. Our lawyer has been reviewing everything, and he says it’s looking fifty-fifty right now. I don’t know about anyone else, but fifty percent chance of prison is one hundred percent too high.”
Trace studied his plate with deep ridges in his forehead. Damian pushed around the remaining eggs on his plate without eating anything.
And all I could do was grasp for something to reassure them.
“Do you know what evidence they have?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Damian said. “It’s all focused on our algorithm, the one that reinvests a portion of client profits back into the neediest areas of society.”
“I think it really depends on how much of an issue the jury is going to take with our quasi-Robin Hood approach,” Trace added. “If we get a bunch of penny-pinching assholes who couldn’t give a fuck about the less fortunate, then we’re probably screwed.”
Silence thudded through the kitchen.
“How long would you go away for?” I asked timidly.
“It depends on the judge, and the verdict. But likely a decade,” Axel said flatly.
My gaze dropped to my plate. I’d just started to get to know them. To feel good about having them in my life. And now they were potentially going to be disappearing for ten more years? It didn’t seem fair. Life had ripped us apart for so many years already. Why were we facing the possibility of losing ten more?
“Is there a chance that someone…I don’t know…framed you? Or something?” I’d asked the question before I even realized I was speaking.
There wasn’t much of a reaction from the three of them. Only soft sighs and shaking heads.
“It’s definitely true that our algorithm does syphon off money for charity,” Damian said. “And that I set it up to do that on purpose.”
“At the beginning, I thought we were being set up in some way. Specifically by Cora’s father,” Axel added distastefully. “But the more it’s dragged on, the more I realize it’s here to stay. Could he have cooked the evidence? Maybe. I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know.”
My heart beat a little faster at the mention of Cora’s father. I didn’t know why. Only that it seemed like a window of opportunity somehow.
“What about Cora’s…ex?” I chewed thoughtfully on the bacon, swallowed, and then said, “Could he have been involved too? I’m sure he doesn’t like you very much.”
Axel let out the driest laugh I’d ever heard.
“Understatement of the century right there,” Trace said, his eyes twinkling.
“No matter how connected that turd-for-brains thinks he is…” Axel paused, seeming to mull over my suggestion. Then he shook his head. “I just don’t think he’s at the level of influencing finance fraud charges.”
“He seems to be more focused on womanizing and…latex balloons,” Damian said with a smirk.
“Latex balloons?” I blinked.
“Damian did some recon work on Eli—” Trace began.
“Don’t say his name,” Axel interjected.
“And he found out that he’s into sex play with balloons. They’re called looners.” Trace laughed a little, scooping more eggs onto his plate. “Never pegged him for a balloon guy.”
I wanted to add me neither but I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want them to know I’d been entertaining Eli, much less that I was going to his house tonight. Seven had reacted poorly, and I knew it would go over worse with these three. They actually had real, working knowledge of the man, firsthand experience outside of a strip club, with Cora at the center of it. No, I needed to keep this my shameful little secret. At least while I probed deeper and figured out if I was absolutely crazy for thinking Eli might have actually been talking about them the other night.
“Sounds like a winner,” I offered, eager to change the subject. Not just away from Eli, but away from the storm cloud hanging over them and all that it entailed. “Hey, do you guys wanna see the short list of apartments that I’ve been looking at?”
“You know it,” Damian said. “The one you’re going to let us pay for, right?”
I elbowed him. “I still wanna do that part myself. But thank you. I appreciate the offer.”
“How about we compromise and I connect you to our insider real estate guru?” Axel tugged on my earlobe. “And as an added brotherly perk, I’ll have them hold whatever apartment you like best so that you don’t have to worry about it going to someone else?”
I couldn’t fight the grin. This sounded like help that I could accept on my terms, but making good on their connections. In my hunt, I’d found the perfect place—a one-bedroom with a huge living room drenched in natural sunlight in the Lower East Side that could easily be turned into a practice space. Plus, it had closets, and a bathroom that didn’t form part of the kitchen. I’d gladly welcome their ability to snag it in this cutthroat market. I hadn’t dared hope it would last on the market long enough for me to even look at, so I had a few others on the list that were fine enough.
“All right, big brothers. I’ll let you hook me up with your connections.”
The three of them whooped and exchanged high fives.
“You think Seven’s gonna be sad when you move out?” Axel asked as I navigated to the browser to show them my saved apartment selections.
My stomach twisted. I tried not to think about that too much. I hated how much I dreaded the moment I’d move out and what it might mean for what had blossomed between Seven and me.
“Eh, he’ll probably be relieved for me to be out of his hair.” I tried to sound casual, lighthearted, when I was anything but. My insides clenched.
“He’s been good with you, right?” Damian asked.
I nodded, focusing harder on my screen. “He’s great. You hired a good one.”
They didn’t just hire a good one. They hired the best. The best man I’ve ever known.
My brothers and I hung out in the penthouse until almost lunchtime, then I caught a ride back to Seven’s apartment from Harry, their other driver. Seven was washing dishes when I walked in, and he barely looked at me as I entered.
“Hey there,” I called out, sounding abnormally cheery. I headed for the island, sliding onto the stool facing him, determined to make things feel normal. “We missed you last night.”
“Yeah? Did you guys have a good time?” he asked, his voice sounding hollow. He snapped the water off and reached for a dish towel.
“I did. Just thought it was odd my close protection officer was nowhere near me yesterday and today.”
He didn’t flinch, or even react, to my barb. “Your close protection officer was advised of your whereabouts and safety, which falls under the protection plan that’s been outlined for you.”
His words felt like nothing but friction. “Well you were invited as a friend, too, you know. Why’d you bail?”
He finished drying his hands and set the towel down. “Thought you might want some time alone with your brothers. I thought I was being considerate.”
I gnawed on the inside of my lip, unsatisfied in the extreme. Seven walked away from the kitchen, toward the hall. His sudden departure felt like a cold slap. So that was it? No conversation, no catching up, no nothing? Not even a kiss. I’d sensed that things were frosty, but now they were just downright weird. Ranger mewed from the living room as I stormed after Seven, stopping in the threshold of his bedroom.
“So that’s it?” My heart beat a mile a minute.
“What do you mean?” He stood in front of his closet, rummaging through clothes.
“You’re just gonna leave me hanging like that? Not even a ‘what did you guys do’ or, I don’t know, something more?”
He blinked a few times, sliding hangers along the rod. “What do you want me to say? I asked you if you guys had fun. I was under the impression that qualified as conversation.”
“Yeah, but…” I jerked in a quick breath, unsure how to express what was bothering me. I wasn’t in the habit of expressing anything with anyone. I just knew that it felt weird, and that Seven had to feel it too. “You got really weird yesterday,” I finally blurted. “And I feel like you’re still weird.”
He pulled out a button-up shirt from the closet, inspected it, and then put it back. “I’m not sure what constitutes ‘weird’ for you. I had things to do yesterday, I did them, and then I came back to my apartment so you could have some quality time with your brothers.”
My stomach knotted up, and I didn’t know how else to make my point. Maybe I didn’t even have one. After all, what were we? We’d never talked about it. He was my bodyguard turned fuck buddy. I knew it was destined to dissolve. Not just because of the circumstances here, but because nobody ever stuck alongside me for the long-term. And I knew better than to expect it.
This was why I didn’t let people in. Because they hurt me along the way. Whether it was with their hands, their words, or their actions, something always happened that showed me why it was better to stay on my own.
And Seven was showing me again that I’d been right.
I examined my nails, trying to conjure an air of indifference. “Well, do you have any plans tonight? Because I have something I need you to help with.”
“I do have plans.” He pulled out a pair of pressed black pants and laid them on the bed. “But I can get Chico to tag along no problem.”
I dragged my eyes up to his face, preparing myself to drop the bomb. Everything inside me clenched. “Okay. Let Chico know we’ll be going to Eli’s tonight.”
Seven stared at the pants on his bed for a moment before turning to face me slowly. Lethally slowly. His face was a mask of neutrality that told me it had to be hiding a storm. Silence pulsed between us, heavy as lead.
“No.” He sniffed, turning toward his closet. “Absolutely not.”
“I am,” I told him. “I’ve already got clearance for a bodyguard, because I’m being smart. You know why I’m doing this. Why not just let me do it?”
His jaw flexed as he assessed the interior of his closet, hands on his hips.
“You think a couple extra thousand dollars is worth going into that den of vipers?” His voice came out a bark as he turned to me, real frustration finally tugging at the edges of his composure.
“I think that den of vipers is worth securing my future if that’s what I need to do, yes,” I spat, crossing my arms.
“That’s not how you secure your future.” His voice was an angry rasp, and if we weren’t in the middle of a blossoming argument, I’d have collapsed at his feet in a needy puddle from how sexy he sounded. “The price of making it in this world does not include putting yourself in harm’s way.”
“Are you kidding me?” My voice came out more like a shriek, and I hated that I couldn’t hide the emotion welling up in me. “That’s the only price I know how to pay, Seven. I’ve been paying it my entire life. I lost my big sister to sex trafficking and a drug overdose. I lost my brothers to the foster system. I lost a lifetime with my parents due to a drunk driver. I lost my virginity and all my fucking dignity along the way, too many times to even mention. I’ve lived through it all. Besides, I’m not just talking about my financial future. I’ve finally found something I’m afraid of losing—I have my family back—and I’m not going to let this overly wealthy airline industry douche take it away from me.”
He watched me for a long moment, clenching and unclenching his fists. “All money aside, you’re risking too much on a bet that has almost zero chance of paying out. You think you’ve seen it all but you haven’t. You’re not na?ve, but you’re still young. It can get worse. Don’t tempt fate, Jordan. Don’t ask it to deliver more heartache to your doorstep.”
I shook my head, but Seven wasn’t done.
“These guys have their own dark side. You might recognize some of it, but it’s different when there’s so much money involved. They can get away with whatever they want. They can do more and worse than you realize. You shouldn’t get involved. Please, Jordan.”
I recognized the real pleading behind his words, and I softened for a moment. But lowering my defenses only allowed the emotion to flood in. My throat got tight, and I began to shut down. It was more than just the money, though that was a big part of it. My gut was telling me to go. To check it out. And Seven would never understand, much less approve.
I tore myself away from him, beelining for my bedroom. I spent a long time pressed up against the wall, drawing deep, cleansing breaths that did nothing to calm the storm inside me.
And I waited. Waited to see if Seven came to talk. To console. To hold me and just enjoy our togetherness. But he never did.
Because I was on my own. Just like I always had been.