Chapter 6
CONNER
I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but as the boat jumps across the lake or river or whatever Alexandria Bay is, Jude points out the different clubs.
“It’s called the Thousand Islands,” Jude says.
“Like the salad dressing.”
He chuckles. “Yep. There are claims that the dressing was created in this area. But like French fries, different countries and areas claim the first recipe too.”
“All the islands have clubs?”
“Nah. Some are still privately owned. Like single families as opposed to clubs. Some are owned by the state as parks, and some are owned by tour companies. Some are Canadian, though the ownership still varies. One of our club’s top rivals is a Canadian club.
They’re truly our biggest competition too, if I’m being honest.”
“By competitions, you mean boat racing?”
“Mhm.” Jude’s hand grips my hip, and he turns my attention to the right. I’m distracted by the way his hand slides up my spine to cup the back of my head. Fuck, I love that feeling. “That’s Dark Island.”
“There’s an actual castle on it!”
I can feel his smirk. “Yep, though it was built as a hunting lodge in 1905 for the Bourne family. Five stories, twenty-eight bedrooms, ten fireplaces, and eight bathrooms. The fourth floor is a large dormitory with a vaulted ceiling and a turret bathroom that had once housed the nine female servants of the family. There are two boathouses, including the one you can see there in the front, two icehouses, a skiff house, and a bathhouse. There’s also a clock tower, which is pretty cool.
There are a ton of cool passageways and tunnels, too. ”
“You sound like a proud papa.”
Jude grins. “Not gonna lie—having free rein of a damn castle is pretty cool. The entire island is awesome, though much of it is densely forested and unused. Rumors say there are concealed pits and lost wells that have claimed a lot of lives over the years. They were constructed to keep enemies from infiltrating the island.”
“Dangerous to walk around without a guide. Got it.”
“Honestly, there’s no need to walk around in the woods. All the fun is had in the many buildings filled with expensive toys and entertainment.”
I shake my head. We clearly come from two different lives.
The boat we’re on is a shuttle. The equivalent of a taxi.
It pulls up to the dock instead of into the boathouse, and we climb out.
The castle looks even bigger now. I mean, I know it’s five stories, but seriously, it’s amazing.
As it’s missing the battlements of a castle, it reminds me more of an abbey, in some ways.
There’s a row of all-wheel vehicles lined up on the side of the boathouse, unseen when you approach.
Jude drives one around, and we load our luggage into the back.
Mostly, it’s my luggage. Literally everything I own is in these two suitcases, backpack, and gear bag, while Jude only has a duffel bag.
The castle becomes more imposing the closer we get, with all the stone, and it towers over us. Made more extravagant by the wide arched door. Jude grabs one of my suitcases, and I follow him with the rest of my luggage up the stairs and through the door.
It looks less medieval than I imagined. Inside is much like a house from the period with thin-planked wooden floors, a stately fireplace, old coats of armor, and wide halls.
A man comes from the right and pauses when he sees us. “Arek?” I ask, startled. His expression remains blank as he studies me. “You’re seriously going to pretend you don’t know me? We had a conversation two weeks ago.”
Jude nudges me, grinning. “That’s Orev.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. What the hell is an orev?
“My twin,” a second Arek answers. He grips the first’s face and turns his head, pointing to the scar on his jaw. “This is Orev.”
Orev shoves him away. His expression doesn’t change as he looks at me.
“You’re a twin.”
“Eh. I’m a quad. Kind of,” Arek says. “Three surrogates carrying our fathers’ seed, all induced on the same day. We duplicated while our sisters didn’t, but arguably, this is how quads are created in a single womb, too.”
“Huh.”
“You’re late,” Orev says, his gaze on Jude.
“Miss me, love?”
Orev rolls his eyes. “Your usual room is open.” He continues down the hall past the entry.
“He’s pleasant,” I note.
Arek grins. “Flattering that you think I am in comparison.”
“Oh no. You’re not pleasant. You’re just as dry as he appears to be.”
Arek chuckles, and the sound sends the hair all over my body standing on end.
“Ignore the mad twins,” Jude says, taking my elbow and steering me away. “Let’s drop this stuff off, and I’ll give you a tour of the back boathouse, where the others likely are.”
“The girls that make up the Van Doren quadruplets?”
“Nah. I don’t think Rosalie and Adalaide are here. They rarely visit, though you may see them periodically this summer. If Orev or Arek races, they’ll come to support their brothers.”
“That’s sweet.”
We climb stairs that remind me of the ones in Nolan’s childhood home.
The wood here is darker. You can tell that they’re authentic to the house, as opposed to being built a century later, like the ones in the Arila house.
The wood looks smooth like glass from people’s hands trailing over it for almost a hundred and fifty years.
The room we step into has a four-poster bed at one end and a fireplace with a couch at the other. There’s an attached bathroom, though Jude says they share it with the suite on the other side. Only two rooms in the castle have their own bathrooms.
“This place is incredible,” I say as I look out the window into the backyard. It’s a wide, perfectly green patch of grass with buildings in the distance in all directions. As I’m turning away, I think I see a glint through the trees. “What’s out there?”
Jude follows my gaze and shakes his head. “Nothing. Just trees and holes in the ground. Knox broke his ankle last year, thinking he could prove the stories wrong about the holes.”
“He proved them right?”
He grins. “Sure did. There’s now a short stone wall around the hole, but where there’s one, there’s likely many more. So the stories go.”
“Huh. You really think they’re there to prevent others from coming onto the island?”
“There’s no proof that any wars or conflicts truly encompassed the Thousand Islands region.
Probably with the indigenous, but admittedly, I don’t know the history that far back.
I know that from the time this castle was built, and primarily, I know the history of only this island, because it’s the club I belong to.
I’m sure, like the rest of this land, it’s covered in blood and there are stories to tell. ”
Jude tugs my hand. “Come on. Let’s go see what else there is to see.”
I glance at the fireplace on the way out, and something catches my eye. Something carved into the wood and painted over. A strange mask, slightly oblong with nondescript eyes and mouth.
Then I’m out of the room, and we’re heading down the hall to a different set of stairs. “There are three passages that lead to the boathouse, but for now, I’m taking you outside so you can see the grounds.”
We’re moving too quickly for me to have a proper look. There’s so much to see. I’ve never been inside a castle before. Even if this one was built as a hunting lodge, it’s certainly castle-esque. I could likely spend days simply exploring all there is to see. It’s stunning.
What must life have been like back in the days when this place was built. The existence of servants’ quarters means it wasn’t pleasant for everyone, but then again, life still isn’t pleasant for everyone. The days of servants might be over, but that lower class still exists.
The second boathouse is just as grand as the one out front.
This one is taller than the one in the front, with the doors for the boats being twice as tall.
At least, that’s my interpretation of it.
There’s only a single door to the water, too, though once we step inside the boathouse, there are four boats buoyed.
None of the boats are modern, but they belong to a bygone era, though they look pristine. I’m so enthralled by the boats that I don’t see the people at first. Not until Jude releases my hand and a man is wrapped around him.
A pit grows in my stomach, and I recognize my jealousy. Is that an intimate embrace? I hate it.
“Hey, man. Why the hell are you so late?” he asks.
Jude’s eyes are on me, but even his smile doesn’t soothe the green monster growing in my chest. “This is my childhood bestie, Zephyr. This is my… uh… Conner.”
“Your Conner. Got it,” Zephyr says, offering me his hand and a wide smile.
I take it, and he yanks me forward. “Relax. We’re not fucking,” he whisper-yells.
My cheeks heat as I glance at Jude. His smile has turned to a smirk.
“Great,” I say.
Zephyr laughs. “I can’t believe you brought someone. Are we celebrating something big?” He waggles his eyes at Jude. “Wait. I can’t be happy about your pending celebration when you’ve kept this from me. What the fuck?”
Jude sighs. His hand grips the back of my head, and his possession relaxes the jealousy inside me. “We’re not engaged or married or whatever else you’re on about, Zeph. Don’t rush me.”
“Why not? You snobby hockey pros are always in a hurry to marry a model or porn star,” someone says as we get closer to the group hanging around a lodgey-looking seating area with animal heads and antlers on the walls. Was there really that much wild game on the island to hunt?
The girl who spoke stops at Jude’s side, her hand on his biceps, and reaches up to kiss his cheek. She looks suspiciously like Arek and Orev. Especially when her eyes turn to me.
“Hi. I’m Paisley.” She offers me her hand. “Let me guess… you’re the model.”
“You’re sucking up, boo,” Jude says as he eyes me. I feel his gaze up and down my body like a caress. “On second thought, I can see why you guessed model.”
I roll my eyes. “Hockey flunkee,” I counter. “Thanks for the flattery, though.”
“What does that even mean, hockey flunkee?” another voice asks as they approach. This one doesn’t have a friendly face. “How do you flunk hockey? That mean you suck?”
Paisley is quick as she releases my hand and bag tags the man. His hands fly to his junk, and he glares at her. “I warned you. Be careful, fucker. I’m not opposed to drowning you.”
Jude’s hand lands on the back of my head again. It feels reassuring as well as possessive. The way this man’s eyes lock on the movement, I think it’s sending a clear message as well.
“Strike one, Hildreth,” Jude says as he guides me away. To me he says, “Ignore him. Every place has a dickwad member, right? Ours is Reynold Hildreth. Reynold. Without the s. He’ll remind you, which is why we always call him Reynolds.”
I glance back at Reynold. He’s glaring at me like I’m something disgusting. As if I’m the one who slapped his dick. I’ve somehow already made an enemy.
As I’m turning away, I catch a glimpse of the tattoo on his neck. I can’t see the entirety of it, but it looks a lot like the carving on the mantle in our bedroom. Huh. Apparently, it means something.