Page 91 of If You Were Mine
If they only knew all of our family secrets. Of course I didn’t even know all of our family secrets, and the media had given most of it away.
But when Isabella had met Weston and decided to spend half of her time in Cage Lake, I was thrilled. Yes, because I liked my sister—not that I would ever tell her that. But also, because she, a brilliant forensic accountant, was also going to take on the responsibility of dealing with the business side of the resort.
While I didn’t go through books or anything, not unless they needed me to, I was the guy that all of the business owners spoke to if they needed something.
It was my worst nightmare.
I just wanted to do my art in peace and pretend everyone else didn’t exist.
It was kind of hard to do that when you had eleven siblings. Many of which were starting to find their significant others so therefore adding more people to my circle.
And since Isabella was out of town, doing something with Weston’s siblings, I really hadn’t paid attention, which meant I had to deal with the resort.
I was just not okay with that.
I rubbed my temples as I made my way inside the back entrance. The place was closing down, although just the public areas. There was twenty-four-hour room service, a full-time concierge, and people would be milling about throughout their rooms, but the main lobby would be quiet.
The daytime staff would be gone, and the nighttime staff would come in.
I didn’t need to speak to any of them. Instead I just needed to fix a couple things. I wasn’t a damn handyman, and I wasn’t in the mood to be alone at home.
And how was that for irony. Because I was the dumbass who pushed people away so I could stay at home alone, and now I didn’t want to deal with it.
And it had nothing to do with that phone call. Or that nightmare.
I walked inside and nodded at a guest who happened to be going to their room. They were decked out in their finery, weaving a bit from their alcohol consumption, but she just smiled before leaning into her husband. Or at least who I thought was her husband. I wasn’t going to judge.
The guy scowled at me, and I scowled right back. I didn’t really fit in with this crowd with my worn jeans, flannel, and beard that I needed to trim. But they could just deal with it. My hair was too long at this point too, and I was starting to match my twin’s look of roughness, but then again, he was usually a little cleaner cut than I was.
He just cursed more than me.
At least that’s what I told myself.
I didn’t know why we kept this resort open. Yes, it was great for the town, yes it was good income for the company. But why did we have to do something in which we had to make rich people happy?
And now I was just being an idiot.
I moved down the hall towards the back offices. After I slid my key card to get through security, I tried to think about all the things I needed to get done tonight. I wanted to work on my art piece, but it was turning out to be far more difficult than I thought. Maybe I would head down to Harper’s later and work on another mural. That would clear my head. And I liked my brother’s girlfriend. She might seem sweet and innocent, but she could kick anybody’s ass if they ever decided to come and hurt her family. And the Cages were now her family.
I liked her.
I could be doing art. I could be working on my house. I could be doing anything else. But instead I was at this damn resort trying to fix a doorknob that kept getting stuck.
Again, not my job, but if I kept my hands busy, I wouldn’t have nightmares. And that sounded a lot better to me.
When I got to the manager’s office though, I frowned. The door was open, not locked in place like it usually was. Scarlett was damn good with security. She was damn good at most things, which was why we always butted heads. Because I didn’t like her knowing that I thought she did a damn good job. She got all uppity and looked down at me. And I wasn’t in the mood to deal with that.
But she never left the door open.
I slid my hand in my pocket, gripping my knife, as I slowly opened the door. She stood there, alone, as I scanned the room, but it took me a moment to let go of the knife.
Because while she was alone, she wasn’t sitting at her desk working.
Instead the image in front of me made my jaw tense, and anger surged to the surface.
Scarlett, in all her beauty, with her light blonde hair flowing down her back, and that icy way she could put down anybody who tried to hurt her, stood in front of her mirror, her main shirt off and over the chair, and only in her pants and tank top.
And there were bruises all over her. She pulled up part of her shirt since I knew she hadn’t seen me yet, and the dark bruises turning blue and green there put a metallic taste in my mouth.
