7. Chapter 7
Nate
The news comes as I’m sorting through the aftermath of a major update on our app. I’ve got my CTO, Derek, on the phone while I finish some curls in my home gym. He handles everything at our office in Auckland, and he knows me well enough to expect a bit of micromanaging post-launch.
“Fuck,” I mutter when my phone buzzes with another call, my body tingling with a combination of endorphins from my workout and adrenaline from the launch.
“Stop drilling random swear words into my brain, boss,” Derek quips in my headphones, “or I’ll listen to my mummy and go back to uni.”
I grin at my reflection in the big wall mirror.
“It’s my other line, Dare. I’ll call you back in a few minutes. Remember—”
“Don’t fuck it up,” he finishes for me. “Got it. Now fuck off, boss.”
“Fucking off,” I confirm, toggling the call.
I switch the dumbbell to my left hand for another set, my fingers gripping the roughened metal. Expecting to hear a voice just like my own, I answer the second call the way I always do: “What, bro?”
It isn’t Nick on the other end.
It’s a cop.
Car accident.
Died instantly.
Widow asking for you.
My stomach ties itself up even as I realise I’ll never answer a call from Nick again. Shakily, I set aside the weight and stare into the mirror, seeing myself clearly. The worse twin. Alone now.
The voice continues in my ear, snagging my attention.
“Repeat that,” I say, my voice and hands steady once more. My reflection is the same cool-eyed man I’ve always been.
“There’s been some… unpleasantness between your brother’s widow and her mother. My partner is with the widow now, and—”
“Is Grace all right?”
“She’s been asking for you. The mother has been trying to persuade me to let her see her daughter again, and I’m having a hell of a time containing her. Is there something we should know about the situation? Both my partner and I noted some tension between the two of them.”
Tension…
I consider what someone like the Munchausen bitch might do in a situation like this, when her enabler has been removed and Grace is hurting. Then I do some quick math and take the biggest risk of my life.
“Here’s what you need to know: Constance Reid has a history of abusing her daughter.
Grace cannot be left alone with her, especially now that my brother is dead and she’s vulnerable.
I’ll be on a flight from Auckland within two hours, but you need to keep Constance away from Grace until then. Do you understand me?”
The cop stutters an answer. I demand his name, badge number, and those of his partner. I write them down.
“I’m trusting you to handle that woman,” I say, increasing the pressure. “I’ll catch a flight as soon as we’re done here.”
“Yes, sir. And my condolences for—”
I hang up and call my charter firm. They schedule my take-off for two hours from now, charging me a premium for short notice.
I get Dare back on the phone, my mind already laying out everything I need to get done before I fly out.
I’ve got moving pieces across multiple plans, none of which were meant to move forward until Grace graduated.
Nick’s death means everything has to happen today.
It’s fucking go time.
“Emergency in Dunedin,” I tell Dare without preamble. “I’ll be out for at least the rest of the day, maybe the week. You’re CEO, CTO, and…” I pause, my brain working around what I’m about to admit, “and CFO from now until I tell you otherwise. Today’s profits are yours if the app doesn’t crash.”
I tilt my head, waiting for him to answer. If he can’t do this, there’s no one else. The launch will fail and we’ll all be out more money than I want to think about. I know it and, judging by his silence, he knows it, too.
“Condolences, boss,” is all he says.
“Accepted. Now fuck off.”
“Fucking off.” He hangs up.
My next call is to my lawyer, who answers midway through the first ring.
“Watson.”
“Dig my brother’s will out,” I tell him. “And I’ll need the marriage documents we discussed last month—for today.”
A beat, and I can almost feel the man’s misgivings through the phone. My steps falter as I head towards the bathroom. I don’t have time to unravel the twist in his undies.
“Courier the documents to the airport within the hour, Watson. I’ll text you the gate number once I know it. And line up a celebrant in Dunedin and two witnesses. For today.” Another hesitation and I lose my patience. “Spit it out, Watson, I have a plane to catch.”
“As we have discussed previously, Mr Hadley, marrying a woman under anything except open and legal terms will not hold up in the future. She would have recourse to have you charged with fraud—at the very least. And that’s only the criminal side!
Should she wish to, this woman could potentially come after half your wealth.
If I could draw up a prenuptial agreement—”
“No prenup,” I interrupt, my voice lowering to a growl. “Grace will marry me, and she’ll stay married to me. Get those documents prepared, Watson, and stand by for that gate number.”
I hang up and jump in the shower. Two minutes later, I’m scrolling to my next call while I towel my hair one-handed. My PI answers on the fourth ring.
“How close are we to nailing the bitch?” I ask. I hired the guy two years ago, and I know he’s getting close.
“Depends,” Graves says, his deep voice nothing more than a mutter. “For an interesting conversation, one hundred percent. For prompting an investigation, about ninety percent.”
I consider that, slipping on a fresh shirt as I think things through. I need to get Constance Reid dead to rights.
“Can you get us to one hundred for a potential criminal investigation today, Graves?”
I hear the man suck his teeth, and I know he’s calculating exactly how much he’s going to charge me to get this done.
“Whatever price you’re about to give me, double it.
Then double it again. The cops have the bitch now, and I’ve already told them she’s got a history of abusing Grace.
I want proof beyond abuse: I want assault, bodily harm, and attempted fucking murder, if you can swing it.
Proof on my phone by five, and you can charge me quadruple. ”
I hear the smile in his voice when he answers. “Done deal, Hadley.”
“Email everything when you’ve got it. Hard copies to my lawyer.”
We ring off, and I pack a few necessities into a carry-on bag before locking up.
I’m walking to my car, about to confirm my booking on the phone, when fifty kilos of dog crashes into me.
My cane corso nearly overbalances me with a shoulder block, making me drop everything.
Then the black brindle beast wedges himself against the car, his back to the door.
“Come off it,” I mutter, trying to nudge him out of the way. “I’ll be back later tonight, boy. Sooner I go the sooner I’m back.”
If anything, he leans even harder against the car, sealing it shut.
“Mihi will be by to feed you later, okay? Look, I’ll text her right now, right in front of you.” I type on my phone, sending my neighbour a quick note to look after Shep this evening. “You love Mihi, right? Let me go, and you get to see Mihi.”
Shep loves women almost to the point of uselessness, and I know he recognises her name.
But the damn dog still regards me unhappily, his wrinkly forehead furrowing as he looks from my suitcase to my eyes.
He hates being left for any length of time, especially when he has to stay outside to do the job I got him for: to patrol the grounds as an extra security measure.
If Shep had his way, he’d spend his days in front of the wood burner being cuddled by a woman between meals of venison heart.
I crouch down in front of him. Shep’s trainer insists that talking to him like a person will help us bond better, and I feel like a fucking moron every time, but I do it.
“I’ve got to get to the airport, boy. I’ll have a new woman for you to worship when I get back. Can you be good so I can leave?”
He chuffs, a clear negative.
“What’s it gonna take, eh?” I sigh. He’s sitting stubbornly between me and the airport, between me and Grace.
Grace, who’s a widow now, asking for me because the better twin is dead. The thought sends a shooting pain through my chest. Shep leans forward to give me a sloppy kiss. I wrap an arm around the dog and he hooks his big head over my shoulder, finally shifting his weight off the door.
“Yeah, that’s what you wanted.” I give him a final squeeze then pull back to look into his eyes, which regard me knowingly. “Can I go now?”
He moves, tail wagging as he walks towards his spot in front of the house, at the centre of the horseshoe. I know he’ll be right here when I get back—with Grace.