Page 78 of Burning Daylight
Seeing him now sends a shiver down my spine.
I walk the rest of the way to my brothers and look at Paxton. “What’s going on?”
“You shouldn’t be here, Jules,” he mutters, low enough that only I catch it.
Lance cuts a look my way, too. “Don’t you have a debutante ball to plan or something?”
I glare at both of them. “Nice to see you guys, too. Do either of you assholes want to answer my question or are we just doing the whole ‘me man, her woman, must protect’ male posturing thing today?”
“We’re taking out the trash,” Paxton replies, his eyes fierce as he stares at the group. His voice carries, which I’m sure was his intention.
“You know, I’ve always thought you’d make a good garbage man,” Benjamin says to Paxton with a smirk. “You’ve got the right people skills.”
Lance crosses his arms. “Shut the fuck up, Benny.”
My head snaps to Lance in shock. “Benny?I’m sorry, are we on a nickname basis now with the enemy?”
Lance side-eyes me with a grimace, and Benjamin flips him off. “Sure thing, Boss.”
“Did you just flip him off atourhome?” Paxton asks, his voice icy and direct.
I won’t lie; he’s intimidating. More so now than he was years ago. He reminds mesomuch of our dad.
Benjamin shrugs. “I’ve been known to be disrespectful.”
Paxton tilts his head. “Are you being disrespectful tous?”
Benjamin’s eyes flick to the security flanking our gates. “Will your security beat us back if I say yes?”
“No. But I might,” Lance cuts in. “Merrick, you better get your boy.”
“You know what, Lance, maybe it’syouwho should get your boy. You think you’re God just because you can throw a punch?” Rosalie pipes up.
Lance smiles thinly. “We all know I hit harder when I’m angry.”
“Okay,” I chime in. “This is weird. You’re all being weird. One of you needs to tell me what the hell is going on or I’ll start loudly reciting embarrassing childhood stories.”
Lance smirks, looking over at me. “Blackmail’s not very ladylike, Jules.”
My eyes widen. “Neither is threatening people in our driveway, yet here we are.”
Paxton’s mouth curls up. Barely, but it’s there.
“Come on now, Lance,” Benjamin interjects, throwing his arm over Rosalie and tugging her to his side like he owns her. “You were just fine when you were with us a few hours ago. Why so mad now? You didn’t think we’d make the guest list?”
There’s a collective intake of breath on our side, like all the oxygen has evaporated from the air.
Lance grows very still, and if looks could kill, Benjamin would be nothing more than a smear on the asphalt.
Nobody asks for clarification, but the accusation is there that Lance has been with the Montgomerys, and I can feel the trust between my brothers—the kind that was already thin and bruised—break apart and fall away.
My eyes narrow on the group of party crashers, slowly cataloguing every single one of them and committing them to memory.
I’ve never hated anyone the way that the rest of my family has, but them coming here and stirring up trouble like this? It’s enough to put them on my permanent shit list.
At the end of the day, I’m loyal. And the Montgomerys have always gone out of their way to cause my family problems, both in business and in everyday life. Plus, Tyler swears it was Marcus Montgomery who killed his parents,nota boating accident.
My chest burns at the reminder of the loss.
