Flawed (Hunt Brothers Saga)

by Timothy S. Allen

  Best of all, there would be no shame, no confusion about what we were. She knew I loved her, and she still kept coming over. She hadn’t said she loved me back yet, but that was fine. Even I knew I had said it quite early, but I valued truth over cliche games. The truth was that I really did love her, and I think I had dodged the worst of the fallout. If she had decided to leave me because I said I loved her so fast, it would have sucked, but it would have been kind of predictable.

  That she was still around told me everything I needed to know.

  I got a notification on my phone that my ride had shown up. Now, I truly had everything I had ever wanted. Nothing could make me feel better than I did at that very moment.

  That was, until I got to the ball, stood in the main atrium, and saw Layla walk in.

  Somehow, she had topped herself from when she wore the red dress. She descended from some stairs at the rear, her hand lightly gliding over the railing, and she looked every bit the part of perfection. She moved elegantly, beautiful and strong but not too sexy for the occasion. All the same, I could not help but think of her as the sexiest, most attractive woman I had ever seen.

  My heart beat way too fast for the occasion. My palms shook. My hands felt weak. My legs felt like they might buckle. I had to maintain myself for the sake of composure and appearances for the next few hours, but boy would that prove difficult with her present.

  I waited for her to catch my eye. When she did, I smiled and winked at her. I didn’t want to wave and draw awkward, unnecessary attention to her. I had my limits to how bold I would be, especially when I genuinely liked the person.

  But to my surprise, she just looked down at the ground, a smile forming but not an especially happy one. She looked... almost sad. Was it because something was going to be announced with her father? Was there some big announcement that would make mine look like a footnote? I didn’t mind because I still had Layla at the end of the night, I just wanted to know what might be happening.

  To make sure nothing terrible had happened, I moved forward to her, pretending that this was just a meeting of two young business minds. I told myself not to touch her, as tempting as that was, and to keep the conversation publicly professional and privately... personal, but not flirtatious. There would be a time for that.

  When I reached her, though, she showed a giant grin that betrayed no sadness, no feelings of disappointment, no secrets or surprises to come.

  “Isn’t this beautiful?” she said, in awe of the place. I had to admit, as much as I hated pomp like this... it was pretty damn beautiful. Mr. Taylor had done rather well with the event and not made it seem grotesquely opulent.

  “Not as beautiful as yourself.”

  OK, I guess I’m not so good at holding back on the flirting. At least no one else can hear us speak.

  “Careful, Chance,” she said, smiling. “Because if you’re not, I’ve got some baby wipes in my purse.”

  “Oh my God, you’re never going to live that one down, are you?” I said with a snort. It at least made Layla laugh quite heartily, a much needed sight given how stressed she looked just moments before. “Just remember, you’re as guilty as anyone in that. And also remember, if you keep going on about that... I may not be able to wait until we get home for me to do something about it.”

  It was true, so very true. It was so hard to be good and not get hard now. It was easy to think of it from a distance, surrounded by businessmen and their wives. Here? Now?

  Forget about it!

  I could see her face blushing, heat rising, and my words having the kind of effect I’d hoped to produce. I could see her feeling the temptation to lift her dress up, perhaps revealing nothing underneath. I could see her desiring to run to the bathroom or some private room, to take me by the hand, and press her body into mine.

  “Hey, hey, hey!”

  I looked over and felt oddly grateful to see John Burnson, looking like he’d had a few drinks, approach us. He swayed and laughed, and normally, I would have felt annoyed. Here, though, it allowed me to put aside my lust for at least a little bit.

  “Lookie here, the man who helped get the deal done and the wonderful Layla Taylor,” he said, pausing briefly to hide a belch. “You know, this is a great day for Burnson Investments.”

  I played along, agreeing. The alcohol played a role, that much was obvious, given that only a few days before, he had given me much of the credit in the privacy of his office.

  I looked to Layla, but to my surprise, she looked a bit uncomfortable. Maybe it was the fact that Burnson had put his arms around both of us, smiling and laughing like a drunken frat boy at a party. I tried to gently pry him away from her, but he had his arms around us tight and there was only so much we could do.

  “I just, I just want to thank you, Miss Layla, your family’s company is going to go great places with us investing. And, and, Craig Taylor is a true gentleman.”

  “That he is,” Layla said, still looking incredibly uncomfortable.

  I had thought that his touch was the reason for her discomfort, but it didn’t end even when he took a step back. Instead, she seemed to be looking around, as if trying to find her father so that she wouldn’t have to deal with Mr. Burnson.

  I had no idea why she was so disspirited by his presence; I knew he could be a bit much to handle, but at a night like this? It didn’t seem like that would be a factor. If anything, I thought Layla would—

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please turn your attention to the main stage for Craig Taylor’s announcement.”

  As if having finally found the perfect excuse, Layla bolted over, leaving Mr. Burnson and I behind without so much as a word. The CEO of Burnson Investments turned to me and patted me on the shoulder.

  “Women, huh?” he said with a snort. “Come with me to the front. We don’t want to have to push through this whole crowd when they make the announcement. After all, don’t keep the people waiting for your speech!”

  My speech. Damn right. Can’t wait to see Morgan’s face in the crowd and throw something at him when I see him. Maybe I’ll even give a subtle joke to him and to the Hunts.

  We gently made our way through the crowd. I lost Layla in it all, but Craig and what looked like the board of directors at his company all stood on stage, smiling and looking out at the crowd before them. He had a glass of champagne in his hand, and around us, waiters were passing out glasses for us to toast with. I began mentally rehearsing what I wanted to say when the time came—I had a few ideas already, but the idea of a toast generated some new ones.

  “Good evening,” Craig began. “Obviously, you all know why we are here tonight, but to remind you, let’s go back to the beginning. Eight years ago...”

  Craig then went on and on about the business growing out of a nearly fatal slow start and how it had all come together after three years of losses and failed profits. It was a story I had heard many times over when Mr. Hunt spoke to prospective businesses, so I somewhat zoned out, although I made sure to pay enough attention that I could make some references in my own speech.

  “There are many people to thank along the way for this,” Craig said, finally wrapping up the story part of his speech. “First of all, my board of directors, for making sure I never went too far astray in any of my dealings. I can never show my appreciation enough.”

  Some polite applause went around. I did the same, trying to keep a pretty face and not show my zealous anticipation for the moment when I’d finally get to go on stage and speak.

  “Second, I’d like to thank my brother, Dan, who, having gone through a similar process with our eventual investor, guided me through all of this.”

  That was... an odd statement to make. I had never heard of a Dan Taylor before, nor had I heard of him through our business dealings at Burnson. Had I missed something like that? It seemed that it didn’t affect our standing in the deal, but still, that was an odd thing to have missed, especially for the amount of due diligence that I did.

  “Third, my
wonderful niece and Dan’s daughter, Layla, who will someday take over the business.”

  Wait, I thought she was your daughter? The hell?

  I looked for Layla. There was no way I had heard those words correctly, but then again, there was no way that Craig would have said something that far off base at a talk like this.

  “Layla provided me invaluable insights and helped correct for some of my actions. She brought attention to things I never would have noticed otherwise, and for that, I am incredibly grateful and a little bit wealthier.”

  Polite applause came, but I dropped my act. Where was Layla? Had I misunderstood everything?

  I couldn’t find her in the crowd—wherever she was, she had vanished and blended in with everyone else. I even saw Morgan and Mr. Hunt before I saw Layla—Morgan nodded to me, but I was too busy looking to acknowledge him.

  “With all that said, let us announce today...”

  I quickly whirled back around. I felt my smile growing. Nothing else mattered. Layla had probably given me the wrong impression. It was nothing to be worried or confused by.

  “... our newest investor, Hunt Industries.”

  Loud applause broke out. Some cheers from some drunken people came. Laughter came as Mr. Hunt waved to the crowd.

  And I heard and processed none of it. I felt numb. My ears were ringing. What in the actual fuck?

  Was this some sort of sick, cruel prank? Was Burnson Investments just a front for Hunt Industries that I had missed somehow? I knew John and Edwin Hunt were friends, but...

  Mr. Hunt took the stage, looked at me, smiled, and looked out over the crowd.

  “We are honored...”

  I stopped paying attention. I looked back at Morgan. At least the horror and shock on his face told me he had no idea, but it did nothing to diminish the pain and embarrassment of what I was experiencing.

  This whole thing...

  Layla...

  Either I’d been played from the start, which I almost hoped to be the case, or Layla...

  When she asked me to love her no matter what...

  Her distance when she and I talked about this gala...

  Her constant withdrawals...

  Fuck. No. No. No!

  At the last second, I caught her storming off to an exit. I didn’t give a shit how it looked to walk out on Mr. Hunt. I didn’t give a shit that I could hear Mr. Burnson breathing heavily, suggesting he didn’t know what had transpired either. I didn’t give a shit about anything other than why the fuck had Layla betrayed me.

  I left the gala, chased after Layla, and begged to know why the fuck, once again, I’d been so stupid when it came to a woman.

  Chapter Eighteen

  One Year Prior

  “You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think this is smart!”

  Mr. Hunt rarely raised his voice at home, but hear in the office, the fury with which he spoke reminded me of the devil. His eyes went wide, he practically snarled at his associate, and his neck bulged with veins. Off to the side, Morgan and I watched with horror and some morbid curiosity.

  We’d been brought in to watch a day in the life of Mr. Hunt, one of us to become the future of the company, the other probably at the behest of his wife. For most of the first couple of hours, Mr. Hunt had insisted we just work on school assignments while he handled some paperwork and phone calls.

  But then, around 10:30 a.m., he called in someone named Scott Dill, the VP of sales for his company. When Scott entered, he looked like he had just seen his dead mother, and given the way that Mr. Hunt proceeded to rip him to shreds, I couldn’t blame him. Even Morgan looked incredibly uncomfortable with the way his father dressed down the VP.

  “Next time I call you in here, you better have some goddamn numbers worth more than the shit I took this morning, or you’ll be a shit on the street. Now get out of here!”

  With that, Scott left without a word, avoiding eye contact with both his boss and us. He shut the door quickly but without slamming it, perhaps fearing what would happen if he did that.

  Then, just a few seconds later, Mr. Hunt spoke to us as if we were back in the house.

  “Do you know why I did what I just did?”

  Neither of us said a word, perhaps wanting the other to speak. I knew better than to speak up with Morgan around; I knew better than to assume Mr. Hunt ever had an interest in speaking to me directly; I knew better than to ever believe I had priority over Morgan.

  “No, Dad, I don’t,” Morgan said finally. “I thought Scott was one of the best salesman you’ve ever had.”

  “That, he is,” Mr. Hunt said. “But here’s how business works, son.”

  I knew now he was speaking only to Morgan, but at least I got to benefit by hearing it in person.

  “Whoever you have to annihilate to get what you want, you have to do it. If you have to step on someone to motivate them, you do it. If you have to trick someone to get what you want, you do it. If you have to go through some elaborate schemes to get what you want, you better goddamn do it. Closing the deal and the art of business require not the soft touch of a woman but the brute weapons that war requires. Do I make myself clear?”

  Morgan hesitated for half a second, said yes, and I nodded. I didn’t want to speak, but I did want to avoid an undressing.

  “I may have, but I know you don’t get it,” Mr. Hunt said. It became unclear now who he was speaking to, given his relative avoidance of directly criticizing Morgan. “You’re too goddamn soft. You keep letting people get their fair share, you’re gonna get chewed up and spit out a million times before you get tired of being crunched down. If you want to get anywhere in life, and I mean anywhere, you better learn and adhere to the warfare of business and the art of the deal. I’m not going to ask if I’m clear, because I know I am. If you can’t digest that, then it’s your own damn fault.”

  Present Day

  IT’S MY OWN DAMN FAULT.

  I knew what this might entail. I knew this might end in heartbreak. I knew this might ruin my career.

  And I went ahead and told her anyways.

  I just never imagined she would choose to humiliate me in so public and vicious a fashion. What the fuck, Layla? What the fuck... the fuck did any of this mean to you? Did any of it matter?

  It took me a couple of blocks to catch her, but when I did, she stopped and turned. Her eyes were filled with tears, some of which had flooded her cheeks. She looked inconsolable.

  But that was nothing on how I felt. I couldn’t even bring myself to talk. Even as my mind went at a hundred miles per hour, even as I begged for answers, my tongue literally felt tied and that I could not speak. It felt like I would have to reach into my throat and pull the words out.

  “Wha... what... why... the fuck, Layla!”

  I slowly regained control of myself, but that did nothing to quell the rising disgust and hatred I began to feel. Layla tried to speak, but she just sounded like a disgusting blubbering mess. I was beyond furious.

  She knew my weaknesses. She knew my vulnerabilities. And as evidenced by her actions since the moment her... her fucking “uncle” started speaking, she was guilty of having stomped all over them.

  Finally, she got words out that I had to think about to understand fully.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  I just laughed. Of fucking course. Of course that’s what she would say. What a convenient line to avoid having to admit to all of the lies she had said. What a nice way to avoid having to admit all of the horrible things she had done to me. Fucking hell. Seriously? This was the best that I got? Not a chance.

  “Then fucking tell me this, Layla,” I said. “Were you ever honest with me? Was any of this real?”

  Layla looked like she wanted to speak, but she just cried even more.

  Had I been a better man, I might have tried to empathize with her, to tell her I would never see her again, but that I would make sure she got home safe. I would tell her she needed to think things through more in her life
, but that she would be safe in doing so.

  But I was not a good man. I was Chance Hunt, a man who had been heartbroken and taken advantage of my entire fucking life. I had no family, I had no true friends, and I had no love. No man, no matter his background, personality, or strength, could be good with those kinds of circumstances.

  “Layla!” I shouted.

  I was on the verge of tears of anger, too. I just felt nothing but fire and rage at everything. How the fuck did it turn out like this?

  “I’m sorry, I ha-had to,” she said in between tears. “I had no choice. There was... there was no other way.”

  “You know,” I said, trying to breathe as slowly as I could to better control my emotions. “I could have said I loved you and never said a word about the deal. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You told your ‘uncle’ or father, whoever the fuck he is, about all of this?”

  Layla just shook her head.

  “You don’t understa—”

  I had heard that line far too often. Turning to a nearby newspaper stand, I punched it as hard as I could, knocking it into the street.

  “FUCK!”

  But the truth was, with that unleash of anger, I understood all too well what had happened.

  Layla had executed the world of business better than I ever had or could have. It sickened me to think that Craig Taylor might have told Layla to sleep with me to get a better deal... that a man would whore off his own niece or daughter for some extra money... but Layla could have said no.

  Instead, she played me like a fucking fiddle. She used me to get what she wanted. And in a sickening way, I had to admire what she had done.

  “You fucking whore,” I said, my words more reflective of uncontrollable anger than anything else. “You’re fucking despicable. You know that? I told you I loved you. I said I loved you! And you used me. You used me to get a few extra million dollars. Wow. Whoop-de-fucking-do.”

  I just found myself completely at a loss of words. Words got spoken, sure, but I had no control over them. They just spilled out without thought; I had no control over anything, even if I tried to modulate my breathing as best as I could. I pointed a finger at her and bit my lip.