Page 1 of The Ties That Bind

1

Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.

Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate,

O anything of nothing first create!

O heavy lightness, serious vanity,

Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

ROMEO & JULIET

There wereperks to being second in line to inherit the expansive St. John family fortune; things like money, cars, houses, and women, but there were downsides to that coveted accident of birth as well. Things like dealing with my older brother Jayce Marlowe St. John, heir to the family fortune and the CEO of our father’s many businesses (most of them not entirely legal). Because Jayce wasn’t just my brother, he was also my boss and he was out for blood. Specifically—and quite literally—Wilson blood.

Which was where I came in.

Our families had been at each other’s throats for so long, I couldn’t tell you how the feud had begun. Actually, that wasn’t true. You weren’t born into the St. John or the Wilson families without learning from a very young age why the other was your mortal enemy. I just couldn’t bring myself to care anymore, which probably meant I was going soft in my old age. And that was a huge problem for Jayce since, as his enforcer, he needed me honed to a razor sharp edge. Especially now that things had begun to escalate between lesser factions within our two families.

When Jayce slid a plain black folder across his desk, I picked it up and flipped through the contents inside, my eyes flying over the information. I’d hoped Royce Wilson would have called off his fucking goons after our last run in with them, but from what I was looking at, it seemed like he’d upped his efforts instead.

“I can’t believe that motherfucker hasn’t learned his lesson,” Jayce commented, taking a sip of his scotch. “Teagan’s still laid up in the hospital with two broken legs and a shattered cheek bone; you’d figure Royce would be a bit more circumspect.”

I shrugged. While Jayce may have been an efficient and ruthless businessman, he didn’t fully comprehend the revenge business since he’d never had to carry out the actions with his own two hands. That’s what he had me for and I was getting tired of explaining to him how things worked.

Apparently he didn’t appreciate my lack of response because he pushed his chair back angrily and stood, marching around the large mahogany desk. “Don’t you fucking give me that bullshit,” he spat, lording over me. “You need to show me the respect I deserve. Don’t make me remind you who’s in charge here.”

His theatrics were another thing I was weary of dealing with. Still, it wasn’t a good idea to poke the bear (too much) lest he actually turn his wrath on me. So I gave him my full attention, but was careful to keep my face blank so he couldn’t infer my true feelings about him or this discussion.

“That’s better,” he pronounced with smug satisfaction. Straightening his cuffs, he dropped down into the leather chair next to me and reached for the folder. Shuffling through the photographs, he pulled one out and handed it to me. “This can’t stand.”

I took it from his fingers and studied the image, scrutinizing the details. This particular warehouse had gone up in flames last month, the fire destroying a cache of weapons Jayce had been in the middle of brokering a deal for. Everyone knew the fire had been set by Royce’s men, but they’d been so good at covering their tracks that we hadn’t yet determined how it’d gone down exactly … which meant we couldn’t keep it from happening again.

The grainy black and white photograph showed two men slinking along the side of the building, keeping to the shadows in order to avoid detection. Something about the photo looked off, but I couldn’t place what it was. That wasn’t my specialty. Jayce paid people with a background in spy shit to determine that sort of thing; my job was to make people pay once we knew who they were, what they’d done, and how.

“I need you to take care of this.” He pointed at the photo.

“I gathered that,” I responded dryly, dreading his next words.

The only time Jayce ever spoke to me was when he needed me to “take care of” something. I might have been his brother, younger by only a handful of minutes, but as far as he was concerned I was just another minion to order around.

“It needs to be big,” he continued. “I thought putting Teagan out of commission would send the proper message, but if anything, what happened has only incited Royce. That deal had been in the works for months and now I’m left holding the bag on the delivery. I can clean up this mess with the buyer, but I need you to make sure Royce doesn’t step to us again.”

“Consider it done,” I said, my mind already rushing through plans and logistics as I rose from my seat.

Before I could stand completely, Jayce laid his hand on my forearm. “I’m not finished, Xander.”

No, of course he wasn’t, I thought with an inward sigh. Jayce always had to have the last word in any conversation, no matter the topic. I eased back into my chair and waited for him to continue.

“I thought roughing up Teagan would send the right message; hit at the heart of the family, but it seems I underestimated the old goat’s feelings for his nephew.”

“No,” I said, leaning forward to grab the photo off the desk. Raising it, I continued, “I think he heard you loud and clear. This isn’t a minor retaliation, Jayce. Fuck. We’re lucky we aren’t burying Nicolette’s boy.”

He scoffed. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. After all, we did.”

“That’s different,” Jayce answered, waving away my concern over our sister’s son. “Claude’s just a boy. Royce may be many things, but he’s not a baby killer.”

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