Page 63 of Duke
Hunter hesitates, rubbing a hand over his jaw. A flicker of cautious indecision passes over his face.Come on, you douche. Let this happen. Be the cocky bastard you’ve always been.
“You’re smart enough to know what I want to talk about.” I see it in his eyes. He does know. “Or maybe not.” I shrug. “Maybe you’ve got your dad’s brains instead of Mom’s. It’d serve you right. Got Dad’s bulky build, too. And his fucking evil heart.”
“Listen, you little shit—”
I shake my head, walking toward the patio and waving over my shoulder that he should follow.Fuck, fuck, fuck.But against all odds, he does fucking follow. I let him precede me out the door.
Duke grabs my arm, tugging me to a stop. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he whispers through gritted teeth.
I press my lips together. “I got this. This fucker is going to dig his own grave. Watch.”
Once out by the pool, I gesture to a glass-topped table with four chairs around it. Hunter’s looking around, taking everything in. “I hope you appreciate what you’ve been given here. Especially since you really don’t deserve it.”
My head bobs, and I give him a half-amused grimace. “Yeah. You would think that. Let’s sit. Nice day, isn’t it?”
Hunter shrugs, stretching out his legs, then grunts out, “Fucking hell, I’m not here to talk about the weather.”
“Nah. You wouldn’t be one for basic niceties, would you?” Duke cocks his head to the side, sitting forward to rest his elbows on the table. He steeples his fingers, drumming them against each other as he watches Hunter’s every move. The tension among the three of us grows with each second that ticks by.
Thank fuck a moment later, Bear eases open the patio door with four beers in his hands. He must have moved fucking fast if he understood me. Carefully setting down all four bottles, he picks one up and offers it to my asshole half brother.
Hunter accepts. And thank goodness for the hot weather he didn’t want to discuss, because he downs three quarters of the bottle in one go.
Bear doesn’t even sit, but mumbles, “Be right back.”
And then we’re right back to this odd waiting game, which suits me just fine. It’s like a game of chicken—which of us will crack first and risk pushing the other. Hunter narrows his eyes, looking over both of us in a way that is meant to intimidate. My half brother could make the most confident man want to piss his pants. I have no idea what’s rolling around in his head. But we generally know what to expect from him. And I’m not letting this opportunity slip through my fingers.
I eye my own beer, then carefully pick it up and take a few swallows before setting it down. I speak slowly on purpose, needing time to pass. “Hunt, you always had it in for me. Did Dad suspect I wasn’t his? All these years? Because you both treated me like the shit on your shoe.”
He grunts with a nod and finishes the beer. “Just never knew for certain. But he figured. He didn’t tell me until recently. Wanted me to upend the house looking for the damn journal Mom was always writing in.”
“I guess he should’ve gotten some DNA testing done before his sorry ass went to prison, huh? Would have saved him a lot of damn trouble.” I shoot him a devilish smile.
Hunter’s brow arches as he considers. “Yeah. It would’ve saved me having to take care of your sorry ass all those years.”
My chin juts forward.Interesting.“Oh, so the part of me thatisrelated to you means nothing, huh?”
“Nah. Our mother was kinda like the little lady living here.” He glances back toward the house, his eyes speculating, as if he knows she’s inside somewhere. When his gaze lands on the far balcony and window, a slow smile creeps over his face. “J-just a sl-slut. We aren’t brothers.” He leans forward, pinning his eyes on me. “We’re nothing. W-wasn’t ’til I found that f-fucking journal in some of Mom’s stuff that I knew for sure. But then there it was.” He rubs his hand over his face, frowning.
Duke’s jaw twitches, but I give I jerk my head ever so slightly. Hunter’s already letting loose info that he doesn’t have to and beginning to stutter and slur. I have him right where I fucking want him.
“D-Dad suspected that our mother was cheating on him.” Hunter’s eyelids droop.
“But then, the journal,” Duke prods as Bear joins us again and hands Hunter a second beer before sitting down.
“Thanks, man.” Hunter gestures to Bear with his beer bottle. “And bingo. That j-journal brought a lot of shit into full focus!” He rubs his hand over his face again, a look of bewilderment crossing his features. He gives himself a shake and continues, “No fucking wonder his buddy Isaac didn’t want you testifying. He was protecting his secret f-fucking k-kid. The little pisser has been in hiding ever since. Scared little shit. He blew it on purpose. Put my dad in prison.”
Yeah. Yeah, he did. And if I ever meet him, I’ll thank him for it.
Duke eyes Bear and me, his brow arching at my half brother’s downhill slide, then focuses solely on him. “But I don’t get it, Hunter,” he deadpans. “What’d Elliot Ashford have to do with it? One second you said she was the key, and the next you dropped her like a hot potato.”
“Wasn’t the easiest way to get what we wanted. Not with Mason right here.” Hunter sways in the seat before our eyes. Passes the fuck out.
“I have the rest of the answer to that.” Lennon’s quiet voice catches us by surprise as her eyes move over the scene before her. She’s gone deathly pale and holds out her phone to me.
“What’s wrong?” I’m out of my seat, knocking the patio chair over in a flash. “Kin?” I take the phone from her hands and read the text.
Elliot Ashford is related to
