Page 30 of The Price of Forever

The sizzle and pop of cooking eggs reached me first. Seven led me through what looked like a laundry room and storage area before we emerged into an enormous kitchen.

“Oh my God, you really still don’t know how to crack an egg, do you?” Axel’s voice drifted toward us as Seven guided me through the kitchen.

Damian and Axel stood in front of the range—large enough to be used in a restaurant, surely—beneath an expansive hood, wearing what looked like lounge clothes. They were both tall, had similar muscular builds, and dark blonde hair…like mine. I was sure it wasn’t a stretch to guess who the blood related ones in the room were. As we approached, a stocky dog with a dark, glossy coat rose to his feet, watching us intently with his ears perked up.

Damian slapped Axel’s back just as we walked up. “I’ve cracked more eggs than you’ve ever seen.”

“Fake news,” Axel retorted.

“I fucking worked at Mr. Grady’s chicken coops all of sophomore year,” Damian said, laughter mingling with incredulousness. His hair was longer, possibly in a state of growing out, as he continually tried to tuck it behind his ear while it continually slipped right back out. “He had us crack eggs on our foreheads the first day just because. How could you even—”

“Good morning,” Seven said coolly.

Damian and Axel swiveled to look at us, bright smiles hitting their faces as their gazes landed on me. Looking into their faces was like looking into a carnival mirror. Vaguely familiar in an unsettling way. Axel’s ice-blue eyes looked closest to mine and Kaylee’s. I wasn’t sure where to focus my attention first. Their kitchen was larger than my entire apartment; they had three islands, all marble waterfall counters.

And not only was I surrounded by opulence…my brothers owned all of it.

“Jordan! Seven! I’m so glad you guys are here,” Damian said.

“Stir the eggs,” Axel hissed, glancing back at the sauté pan. “Jordan, are we at hugging status yet, or no?”

I opened my mouth to respond but wasn’t sure how to tell them fuck no without the fuck part.

“I think that’s a no,” Damian said.

“Yeah, that’s a no,” Axel said softly. “That’s okay. We have time. We’ll get there.”

I didn’t necessarily agree. But the plan was to get out of here as quickly as possible. So I kept my mouth shut.

“How about we do some introductions? Jordan, meet Zero, my Rottie mix.” He ruffled the dog’s ears. “Zero, meet your Auntie Jordan.”

I wiggled my fingers in Zero’s direction, who snorted and sat on Axel’s foot.

“So, tell me—how have things been going with this guy?” Axel tipped his head in Seven’s direction. “He looks tough but he’s made of butter on the inside.”

“Hey now,” Seven warned.

“Very firm, immobile butter,” Axel clarified.

“Steel butter,” Damian offered.

“He’s all right.” I crossed my arms, leaning against a slate gray cabinet that extended so high, it could only be hiding something big, like a fridge. I’d never seen a luxury kitchen like this up close, only on reality TV. “He saved my ass yesterday.”

Both my brothers leaned closer. “He did?”

“Yeah.” I figured I’d get this show on the road. Tell them the news, then GTFO. “I got attacked.”

Damian stepped toward me, concern etched across his face. “Oh my God, are you serious?”

“Jordan, this is—” Axel let out a burst of air. “Do you know who it was? Can we track him down?”

“Are you okay?” Damian asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, just as Zero approached me, sniffing curiously. I held out my hand to him as I continued. “I mean, I’m as fine as I’ll be. Seven was in the right place at the right time. I owe him…a lot.”

Both of my brothers visibly relaxed.

“See,” Axel turned toward Damian, “This is why you hire the best. You fucking start at the top.”

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