Page 6 of Cruel Dreams

“I do.” I refuse to let the Blacks steamroll me like they have in the past claiming my best interests at heart. Now I know they’re looking out for anything but my wellbeing, or my sister’s. “But if Ash is waiting on Zarah’s recovery to marry her, I suggesthe move on like I have.” I place my hand on his shoulder. “I certainly don’t want you to miss out on the prime years of your life. Brother to brother, you should look to the future and choose a different path.” My fingertips dig into the material of his jacket.

“I appreciate your concern,” Ash says. “All I want is what’s best for Zarah.”

I lower my voice. “Then you should leave her alone.”

He jerks his shoulder out my grasp, and Clayton’s mouth thins into a tight line. He’s not in such a good mood anymore.

“I did hear something interesting,” I say, pretending the hostility rolling off Ash isn’t there. He hates being told what to do, but even more, what he can’t do. I need to tell the Crowne’s manager to tighten security. It would be like Ash to try to see my sister. So far, we’ve managed to keep her whereabouts to ourselves, but I wouldn’t put it past Ash to watch my building and realize Dr. Reagan doesn’t visit her there.

“And what’s that?” Ash asks.

“That you bought Quiet Meadows after Zarah was admitted.”

“We had a hand in that, yes. I wanted her to have access to the best care possible. That means being in control.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He scoffs. “When? When you were catatonic with grief after Stella betrayed you? Or when you would visit Zarah and then lock yourself in your office and drink yourself into a stupor because she was scared of you? Or when you were blowing me off because you were working? Or when you were fucking Nathalie? I get you wanted to bury the pain, but I couldn’t hold a conversation with you for months. When was I going to tell you that I was doing my best to prioritize your sister’s care because you couldn’t?”

The problem is, all of that’s true. I was distraught to the point of non-functioning and it’s why Ash managed to trick me intosigning over power of attorney. If Nigel Wagner and I weren’t dragging my father’s company out of the pit of neglect I’d let it fall into, I spent a lot of my time drunk off my ass, and yeah, holed up in my room with Nathalie. I thought God sent Stella to me in exchange for my parents, only, He took her and my sister away from me, too. I dealt with it the only way I knew how.

Booze.

Lots of booze.

And sex.

Just like I did when my parents died.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for Zarah and me,” I say, pushing the words out of my mouth, “it just would have been nice to know.”

“It didn’t seem important.”

“Whatisimportant is that facility is a for-profit institution, and believe me, that place is a real moneymaker. We made back what we paid in little under a year. I had no idea healthcare could be so lucrative,” Clayton interjects, nodding appreciatively.

It’s like them to pray on families who need the services Quiet Meadows provides. Why was I so blind to the kind of people the Blacks are?

My God.

“I’m glad you found the sanatorium has its uses,” I say dryly. “Maybe you should also look into correctional facilities. I hear there’s good money to be made investing in incarceration.”

Clayton nods. “I’ve had my people research that, but there’s too much liability.”

Of course. Drugging people up so they lose the capacity to think and make decisions is much safer.

I glance around the room. Nathalie’s holding court, the women who want to be her friend pawing at her, and the crabby woman who was in the elevator with us is among them. Nat’shappy, glowing and talking adamantly, like she fits in. If I didn’t know her history, I would have had no trouble pegging her as one of us.

Maybe that’s another reason I prefer Stella. I don’t want to be “one of us” anymore, and I don’t want to be with a woman who does.

Clayton’s not in any hurry to mingle, standing loosely by my side, his beer bottle dangling from his fingers. I wonder if he’s waiting to say something to me.

Vance Huxley is slowly inching his way toward Nat, and she’s watching him out of the corners of her eyes. We’ll have to move on to that portion of the evening sooner than I thought. I can practically see the drool glistening on his chin.

“By the way,” I say casually, like the idea just occurred to me, rather than me planning for weeks to have this conversation, “that private investigator you put me in touch with? The one who was looking into my parents’ plane crash? He finally hit pay dirt. He found a snitch at the NTSB’s offices. It cost me a lot of money to get him to talk. They found the black box years ago, and they’ve kept it buried all this time.” I shake my head, as if incredulous, and Clayton’s face turns a deathly white.

“What?” Ash barks in place of his father’s speechlessness.

“That’s what I said, too. Why would they keep it a secret? What could be on the CVR they don’t want anyone to know? Now I can finally find out what caused the crash.”

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