Page 26 of Queen of Spades

Unthinkable.

“Fuck…” I muttered, shaking my head. “Fuck!” I shoved past the bearded idiot still looming in the doorway and walked out into the main room. There were several bikers milling around, and they all turned to glare at me when I stormed in itching for a fight.

“Anders,” Erik warned, catching me by the arm. “We can figure out something else.”

Oh, so he’d come to the same conclusion I had then.

“This is the only viable plan,” I snapped, pulling away from him. “We’ll go there once Levy is stitched up. He’ll be… insufferable. He’ll want something in return,” I warned him sharply. Alarm bells were going off in my brain, screaming at me to run in the opposite direction of this fucked up plan.

“And we’ll deal with that shit when we come to it. But for now, we just need to get Grace somewhere safe,” Erik replied in a low voice. I laughed and shook my head.

“Myfather’shouse is anything but safe,” I muttered.

It was nearly dinnertime when I pulled the SUV up the expansive driveway of my father’s estate. Sure, I did technically grow up here, but this was never my home. It wasa place of fear, self-loathing, and impossible expectations. The guards at the front gate hassled me a little, claiming he wasn’t expecting us until tomorrow. I forced them to call up to the house and talk to him directly, and he told them to let us in. I parked close to the door, and Erik hopped out quickly to help me maneuver Levy out of the back seat. He was conscious now but in a significant amount of pain, and he nearly collapsed into Erik’s arms when he opened the door. I took my sling off and left it in the backseat, unwilling to give my father another thing to comment on. I got Levy’s arm over my shoulders, and we limped slowly to the front door, Grace and Jesse close behind.

The door opened before we even reached it, and a stout older man stood in the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back—one of the many employees under my fathers regime. I ignored him and guided Levy up the stairs and into the house, considering our options. The living room was closest, so we could set Levy down on the couch before he collapsed on us. “Right,” I muttered, and Erik turned the corner into the ridiculously overdone living room, complete with a full-sized oil painting of my father and my mother, unsmiling as they stared down at us.

I helped Levy lie down on his stomach, and he immediately closed his eyes and sagged into the cushions, his face a pale gray that made me anxious. Grace led Jesse over to one of the softer-looking chairs, the large bandage across his forehead and cheek partially obscuring his vision.

“Of course, just make yourself at home.”

I stiffened, my hands clenching into fists at my sides as I stood up tall, turning to the far end of the room. There was Gregori Howell, in all his pompous glory. A smirk playedon his lips as he surveyed our little rag-tag group, his eyes landing on Grace. I shifted in front of her immediately, drawing his attention. “Father, sorry to barge in a day early,” I replied stiffly, and he zeroed in on me, his pupils dilating as he scanned over me.

“You have nerve damage in your shoulder,” he announced, striding toward me. I forced my muscles to hold steady as his hand came up and landed on my injured side, his thumb probing the injury without mercy. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of wincing, even as he threatened to puncture the stitches holding my skin together. “You were careless enough to get shot, and then careless with your recovery.” He clicked his tongue harshly, releasing me as he shook his head. His eyes moved to Erik, who was trying to look at ease despite the tension in the room.

“Dr. Howell, sir, I apologize for the intrusion,” Erik said, walking up with his hand outstretched. My father accepted the handshake, studying him closely. “We had an unexpected spot of trouble, courtesy of Douglas Harding.” My father dropped his hand, gazing over at Levy sprawled out on the couch, his lip twisting as he studied him next. A wave of protectiveness surged through me, and I willed my legs to keep me still as I fought the urge to lunge in front of him.

“As you well know, I don’t take sides in these matters,” he mused, giving Jesse a cursory glance next.

“We’re not asking you to choose sides, we’re only asking to stay the night until we get back on our feet,” I told him sharply, and he narrowed his eyes at me, taking a step toward us. A small hand wrapped around my arm, drawing my attention. Grace stepped around me, toward my father, and I bit back a snarl as she reached out her hand in greeting.

“Hello, Dr. Howell, I’m Grace Harding,” she announced, and my father’s face broke into a wolfish grin that made my skin crawl.

“Ms. Harding, lovely to meet you,” he replied, the frost melting away to reveal the charming professor all the surgical residents swooned over. He took her outstretched hand and brought it to his lips, brushing across her knuckles.

“I’m so sorry to ask this of you,” she said softly. “My brother attacked us, and we needed somewhere to go where Levy could be safe and rest for a while. I understand that you don’t choose sides, and we aren’t asking tha-”

“You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” my father interrupted, and she blinked in surprise. “Having a bit of trouble with your powers now, love?” He patted her hand, still not letting go of her.

“I… what?” Grace stammered, her eyes going as wide as saucers. It was like a pitbull staring down at a kitten, wondering how it would taste.

“My father has his own power, Grace,” I explained coolly, glaring at him. “He can figure out all your problems.” More like point out any weakness or flaws, and then use them to exploit you for his benefit.

Chapter sixteen

Grace

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to pull my hand away and run out of this house. The man in front of me was handsome, clearly—I could see where Anders got his sharp jaw and his distinguished eyebrows. His hair was a little darker, with a dusting of white around the temples, but the biggest difference was in the eyes. While Anders’ were gold, his father’s were nearly black. He reminded me of a shark, and I was currently treading in uneasy waters.

“I… I don’t know what happened. They’re just gone,” I mumbled, wishing he would let go of my hand.

“Well, first, let’s get you fed. You arrived just in time for dinner.” Gregori smiled, sliding his hand around my wrist so he could guide me toward the dining room. Thankfully, I’d had a change of clothes in my go-bag, so I wasn’t forced to eat dinner in my bikini. Gregori dragged me toward an unnecessarily large table, pulling out a seat next to his and gesturing for me to sit down. I gazed helplessly at my menas they filtered in behind us, silent and dangerous as they watched Gregori take a seat at the head of the table.

The second he was sitting down, a man appeared from god-knows-where carrying a plate with a small but ornate salad on top. It was set down in front of Gregori, and he ignored the man completely, focused on his son and his friends as they chose seats around the table. “I maintain a very strict diet,” he told me, smiling.

“I’m sure nutrition is very important to you as a doctor,” I replied, and he smirked in a way that made me feel as if he was laughing at a private joke.

A salad appeared in front of me as well, and I waited patiently as plates were brought out for Anders and the others. I didn’t move until Gregori lifted his fork, falling back into my learned habits in this all too familiar environment.

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