“Clean up after yourself.”
I meandered to the back of the house, noting opened boxes in each room. In Father’s study, his prized books were missing, leaving a gap on the shelf and after sliding my finger along the wood, it was coated in dust. Sebastian’s housekeeper must be away because he viewed dust as the enemy.
Was Sebastian moving? It made sense to downsize. This monstrosity of a house was too big for one person, let alone one.
On opening the fridge, I stood staring at the empty shelves, the cold air blasting against my cheeks. Milk. Cow’s milk not the almond, oat, rice or whatever non-dairy “milks” Sebastian favored. Half a loaf of cheap white bread, jam, some mustard, a wilted lettuce and a bottle of wine. While I was no connoisseur, the wine was one I’d bought when Dad and I celebrated my getting into college. It’d been the cheapest one in the store.
All the evidence suggested Devyn was right and my step-father was bleeding money. But how was that possible?
I slapped peanut butter and jam on a slice of bread and ate it, barely tasting the salty and sweet combination that I’d loved since Dad fed me a bite-sized piece as a kid. Getting out my phone, I snapped a pic of the fridge contents and the boxes strewn around the adjoining rooms and the blank space on the wall in the living room.
I sent the photos to Devyn and asked for his opinion.
He’s got money problems.
That made little sense. He was rolling in it. The company, the investments, the house… Maybe he was going on vacation, gave the staff time off and hadn’t replenished his food supply. But my step-father had expensive tastes. The best wine, cars, clothes, holidays. The Sebastian I knew wouldn’t touch plain old white bread.
I crept toward the den, wanting to catch him unaware, and listened at the door. I’d left it open when I walked out of the room, but now it was shut. There was an indistinct murmur of voices in the den, but I leaned against the door when Sebastian screeched, which was probably the decibel equivalent of a jet aircraft.
“Fix it!”
I couldn’t hear what the person on the other end was saying, but I took my phone and pressed record. There was a law about not recording someone without their knowledge, I thought, but fuck that.
Glass shattered, and I tore in to discover my step-father standing in the middle of the room, his glazed eyes not reacting to my presence. The coffee mug was in pieces and there was a jagged hole in the window.
“Get out, Heston.” He slumped onto the couch. “No, don’t go. This marriage needs to happen yesterday.”
I didn’t point out that was an impossibility and stayed quiet.
“This business deal must go through. I’ll call Rein tonight or meet him at the club and we’ll pick a date next week.”
“Oh, next week. I think I’m busy.” I was enjoying this game of pretend. I realized my mistake as soon as the words left my mouth. I shouldn’t have jeopardized the money for Dad’s surgery.
He leaped up and got in my face. “Listen, you little punk, this marriage is good for both of us. Now piss off.”
As I drove out the gate, I ran through options on how to get the money for Dad’s operation because whatever con Sebastian was engaged in, he had no ready cash.
Chapter 20
Forget about it!
Devyn
The wedding. Heston. Sebastian. Roy. The way my beast was riding my ass. All of this was a flipping hot mess, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.
But one thing I did know was that I was drawn to Heston in a way I never had been attracted to another person. Being expected to marry him wasn’t even close to how messed up the situation was. But we were going to be together, our families demanded it. Sure, I’d rather be mated, but marriage would work.
If only it were that easy. There were too many pieces that didn’t seem to fit, and that was what was really getting to me. I needed answers to Sebastian’s shenanigans, but more important than that, I needed to see Heston.
Growing up, I dreamed of finding my mate. And now that I found him, I was so confused. I didn’t understand these feelings I had for him. They weren’t lust—or at least not just lust. They weren’t love, although I imagined that they probably could be if given time. They also weren’t friendship—not yet.
Sure, it was the mating call. But also, it had to be more than that. From everything I understood about the pull, it was need and lust based, and this went so much deeper than that.
Or I was overthinking all of it, which honestly was a very real possibility.
I texted Heston and asked what he was up to.
I’m free. What were you thinking? He responded almost immediately. That was a good sign… a great one, even.
