Page 35 of Hidden Heir

Ant finally looks up with the baggie dangling loosely from his fingers. “Yes, boss,” he mocks.

“I’m a fair man, Ant. But I’m not known for being patient, so let me speak as plainly as I can so a dim-witted cockroach like yourself can keep up.” I’m on him in a flash, my hand around his narrow throat squeezing until his eyes bulge. “The only reason you are alive is because you are important to Brooke, though for the life of me, I can’t fathom why she hasn’t kicked your sorry ass to the curb yet. Loyalty is a trait to be admired yet all you care about is the height of your next fix, which will never be enough, will it?”

Ant chokes but he doesn’t fight me. I watch in real time as the drugs hit him like a truck.

“This is your one and only chance. You will get clean. You will get your life together. And you will spend the rest of your days making up for inflicting your sorry existence on your sister, do you understand me?”

Ant rolls his eyes and coughs as I relax my hand.

“Whatever, man,” he mutters.

“Wrong answer,” I snarl. “One chance, Ant. You don’t seem to understand the gravity of what I’m offering you—onechance. I will get you back on your feet, even if you’re kicking and screaming, but if you ever put Brooke in danger, ever hurt her or cause her even a second of upset, I will make sure you disappear under a sea of needles. Are we clear?”

“Sure. Clear. Whatever. I’m not scared of you,” Ant replies, his speech beginning to slur. “You criminals are all the same and you’re just as bad as the others so what the fuck ever man.”

A pulse of confusion derails my anger for a moment. “The others? What others?”

Ant’s eyes roll back in his head and he slumps, completely lost to the high of his addiction.

What others is he talking about?

16

BROOKE

It pains me that Leon was right.

The week after Leon helped Ant get high, I noticed a change in him. Part of me doesn’t want to accept that it’s the drugs that are soothing him, but Leon has such a good plan in place that it’s almost like Ant is back to his normal self. The substance he takes to ease his cravings is administered at the same time every day, always in his room and always under the watchful eye of a guard to ensure nothing goes wrong. The dose is adjusted to a little bit less each day, and he’s only allowed out once he’s come down from his high.

And then it’s like the old days again. Suddenly, I have my brother back. He’s laughing and joking with me as we cook food for Tiffany, he’s playing games with her on the patio in the sun, he’s reading me snippets of funny stories he finds online, and he’s starting to look a little healthier.

The difference is amazing, and despite my best efforts not to get my hopes up, I fail miserably. Leon makes me feel safe despite everything I know about him. Tiffany is thriving in this environment, and she’s become so attached to Rik, who oftenlooks terrified to be near a child. But he’s incredibly gentle with her.

For the first time in my life, it feels like I’m actuallylivinginstead of merely existing. It’s a glimpse into the life I could have had if I’d told Leon the truth four years ago. Tiffany and I could have had an amazing life, and she could have had the safest, most blissful upbringing.

That kind of wishful thinking is dangerous, but it slips into my mind as I enjoy an hour alone taking care of myself for a change, while Tiffany plays with Ant under the watchful eye of Selina.

I’ve washed, shaved, waxed, and slathered myself in enough scented oils that I’m a walking commercial, but it’s luxurious, and I’m selfishly enjoying it. Just like I enjoy the warm dream invading my thoughts as I chase the what ifs of my past. Leon would have been over the moon to have a baby. I’m sure of it. Even now, he looks at her with adoration in his eyes, which, given how quickly she steals people’s hearts, is not a surprise. Leon asked once about Tiffany’s father, suspecting it was the man that attacked me, but I put that to rest with a claim that her father was a nobody who died.

Leon accepted that easily enough.

But what if he knew the truth? If I’d called him back then and told him I was pregnant, what would have happened? I play out his excitement as I lather thick shampoo into my hair and massage the tense points on my skull. Tiffany would never have had to sleep on the floor in my arms like she did when a flood swept through my apartment from a burst pipe and destroyed everything.

She would never have to hear Ant and I screaming at each other after finding him passed out. She never would have seen him high out of his mind with needles in his arms. She wouldhave had a real Christmas tree, not one made up of dollar store colored paper and cards.

I’ve done my best but it’s hard not to compare now that I’ve had a taste of this life. Crime really does pay. But beneath the fantasies in my mind and the shea butter on my skin, doubt rumbles in my heart. I can’t stay here forever. Leon and I haven’t spoken about anything long term. Besides, I’m certain the Irish aren’t going to forget the amount of money Ant owes them and just stop looking for us.

I need a plan. The problem is, I have no clue where to start. This entire situation has been me desperately grasping at slim chances and hoping for the best, all to protect my daughter and my brother. That remains my priority.

Soon enough, Leon will start asking the right questions demanding real answers and I’m not sure how much longer I can lie.

Maybe we can flee the country. I could take Tiff somewhere warm and sunny, where we can blend in with the crowd and live a quiet life. That plan might actually be possible once Ant is clean. By then, he might have a sensible head back on his shoulders and he can help me.

I mull it over as I climb out of the shower onto heated tiles and wrap myself in the fluffiest towel. The luxury of this place is temptation wrapped in a bow, because there’s a large part of me that yearns to stay. It grows from a feeling of safety that I haven’t felt in years, and I’m enjoying the way Leon looks at me like I’m some tasty treat.

The sex is fantastic too.

So my choices are to stay and come up with some fantastical lie that keeps my family safe from the Irish for the rest of our lives, or leave and attempt to flee to another country, hoping for the best and that the Irish never find us.

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