Depraved: The Devil’s Duet (Book 1)

by Charles, Eva

“Most of his bullshit comes from insecurity. Cut him some slack.”

  “Cut him some slack? I’ve already cut him way too much fucking slack.”

  Gray shakes his head, and pushes away the plate.

  My mother’s death was devastating. Losing a loving parent, our only loving parent, along with Sera and Zack, hit Gray harder than it hit the rest of us. He’s never really recovered, and I always feel bad DW is such a sore point between us, but there is no way I’m cutting the asshole an ounce of slack.

  “I’m leaving a week from Friday,” Gray says. “I’ll be gone for maybe ten days. Liam can manage most things that come up better than either of us can, but he’s getting old and forgetful. Will you stop by once or twice while I’m away, just to make sure the place is still standing when I get back?”

  “Where you going, princess?”

  Gray shoves my arm, nearly toppling my plate off the bar. He’s always hated me calling him princess, and I’ve always loved getting a rise out of him.

  “The president–elect is holding a summit,” he says like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

  “What?” Presidents-elect don’t hold summits. Anyone who’s paid any attention to the news in the last decade knows this.

  “He wants to squeeze in a little R and R, and get some world leaders together. It’ll be a working vacation. This way he can hit the ground running when he takes office.”

  “Is that what he told you, or is that what you think?”

  Gray ignores the question. “He’s sending me ahead with a few of his closest advisors and some staff to assess the situation before he joins us.” Gray shrugs. “It’s a show of good faith with these people to send your son. Ideally, it would be you going.”

  “Fuck that.” Gray is letting DW manipulate him. He knows damn well this is a bunch of shit. “Where is this summit happening?”

  Gray walks around the bar, and dumps some ice into an empty glass. “On the Mediterranean.”

  It’s not easy, but I hold my tongue and toss my napkin onto the plate, waiting for him to sit his ass back on the stool next to me. “Tell me you are not going to a fucking summit in the Mediterranean with world leaders before the bastard takes office. Please tell me that.”

  “Get a grip, JD. I don’t need you to protect me from my father.”

  I need to take a different approach here, but of course I don’t see it until I’ve already opened my big mouth. “Gray, don’t let him use you. No matter what he thinks, he’s not a fucking king. There are laws and rules that govern the transition of power.”

  This is just like my father. He probably can’t find anyone else dumb enough to go to his little summit, so he’s sending Gray. He’ll think nothing of selling my brother out if there’s any blowback. “If he wants to skirt the law, that’s his business. But don’t let him pin his bullshit on you. For all I care, he can rot in jail. But don’t let him dirty you.”

  “He just wants to see who he can trust. Who his real friends are. I don’t get why you’re so bent out of shape about it.”

  I can’t figure out if Gray is downplaying this for my benefit, or if he doesn’t fully understand the implications. Either way, it’s an issue. A huge fucking issue. “Who else is going to be there?”

  “Not sure. It hasn’t been finalized.”

  I look up at the television and my father is staring down at me. Big grin on his face, like he’s mocking me. I want to take my beer and chuck it at the screen. But I don’t let him reduce me to a complete heathen. Not tonight. “They still hang people for treason?”

  “Pretty sure the Supreme Court ruled that hanging people violates the Constitution.”

  “I’d find out if I were you. You don’t like ropes.”

  Gray slowly turns his head to look at me. “How the fuck do you know what I like?”

  “I read it on your little form when you were away.”

  The temperature in the room plummets twenty degrees. My little brother is pissed, and there’s ice in his voice sharp enough to cut through glass. “You went snooping through private client information in the locked file cabinets?”

  “You’re not a client. And I needed something to do while I was babysitting this place. If you don’t like it, get your ass back here permanently and don’t leave me in charge of this shitshow.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “We established that already. You need to be on alert around those jackals. And for God’s sake, familiarize yourself with the rules regarding transitions.”

  “And how should I do that?”

  “They didn’t teach you how to read big words at Brown? Look it up. Or ask someone. All those ball-lickers hanging around, waiting for someone to notice them? I bet one or two of them have memorized every regulation. This is serious shit. The kind you can’t buy yourself out of. Think alphabet soup: FBI, CIA, NSA, to name a few.

  “He’s the president.”

  When it comes to DW, talking to Gray is like banging my head against the wall. I crack my knuckles to avoid shaking him. “I repeat. The man is not a fucking king. Come on Gray, you’re a smart guy. You’re talking like someone who’s hitting the weed too hard. Promise me you’ll get a good handle on what you’re permitted to do before you let him send you anywhere.”

  “Fine.” He takes a mouthful of ice, and begins to chew. “Anything to shut you up,” he mutters.

  I watch him out of the corner of my eye while I take a pull of beer, hoping some of what I said got through to him.

  “I was having coffee at Misty Moon earlier today, and thought I saw you go into The Gatehouse.” He’s steered the conversation away from my father, which is uncomfortable for him, to The Gatehouse, which he knows is uncomfortable for me. Insolent bastard.

  If he’s waiting for a response from me, he better not hold his breath. But I do have a question for him. “How come you never told me you helped Gabrielle Duval get her hotel open?”

  “I don’t tell you everything.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “Gabby and I have always been friends. That didn’t change when you dumped her.”

  That’s what my brothers think. It’s what everyone thinks. I was the bastard who cheated on her. At the time, it was easier for people to believe that I was done with her, though nothing could have been further from the truth.

  “She never asked me to keep it from you, but I thought . . . Anyway, I just made a few connections for her. Answered some questions. That’s pretty much it. She didn’t really need much help. Why do you ask?”

  I shrug. “I like to know what’s going on.” But she won’t tell me shit, although it sounds like you know plenty. “Tough business, you think she can make it work?”

  He nods. “It costs a pretty penny to lay your head on a pillow, but she pulls out all the stops. It’s modeled after the small European luxury hotels. If the concept takes off, and it seems to be, she’ll be able to expand when the surrounding buildings come up for sale. That’s her plan, anyway. Seems solid to me.”

  “Hope it works out for her.”

  “You never answered my question. Was that you I saw going into Gabby’s hotel?”

  I motion for another round of beer without saying a word about The Gatehouse. Hell will freeze over before he gets a confession from me.

  “Leave her alone, JD. She’s in a good place.”

  Yeah, a real good place. If only you knew the half of it. “I never read your damn fact sheet. Figure every man is entitled to a little privacy. Even pussies like you. Maybe you could repay the favor by staying out of my business.” I lean over the bar, grab the nozzle that dispenses water, and fill my glass.

  “Gabby’s not your business anymore.” Before I can respond, a sly grin spreads over one side of Gray’s face. “And I know you didn’t read my fact sheet, because if you had, you’d know I love ropes. My hard limit section is blank.”

  “You are one sick fucker.”

  “I hear it runs in the family.”

&nb
sp; 16

  Julian

  It’s after ten-thirty, and I’ve poured down more than my share of booze and filled my belly with hot food, now there’s just one more thing I’d like to fill. Just one more thing that’s missing from making this a perfect night. But that’s not going to happen—not tonight, anyway. Instead of looking for trouble, I call Chase, again.

  “Hey,” he says, sounding a hell of a lot more relaxed than he did when I called him earlier, on my way out of Sayle’s. “What’s good?”

  “We missed you at dinner tonight. You need to get your ass back down here.”

  “I’m workin’ on it.”

  “Work harder. Are you still in meetings, or can you talk now?”

  “Talk away. This is a secure line.”

  I smile. Sometimes I forget how clever and grown-up he is. And sneaky. “Good. I’ve got a couple things I need your help with.”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve hacking Gabby’s security system or jamming her phone lines. I’m done with that. You need to leave her alone.”

  “Why? You’re not trying to weasel in on my girl, are you?”

  “I’m not a seven-year-old, and she’s not your girl.”

  When they were little kids, Chase and Zack were always following Gabrielle around, trying to get her to play. I would always tease them about trying to steal my girlfriend, and Gabrielle would always pretend she liked them more than me. Life was simpler then. Everybody was happy. “You need to get a sense of humor.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Do you know anything about some bullshit meeting on the Mediterranean with DW and some foreign leaders? I’m guessing they’re from countries not aligned with ours, otherwise it wouldn’t be such a huge fucking secret.”

  “They don’t exactly invite me to high-level foreign policy meetings. But I’ll poke around.”

  Poke around. Jesus. Before this is over we’ll all be in prison—my brothers for being careless, and me for strangling my father for compromising them. “Keep your eyes and ears open, but you are not to hack into anything that even smells like government business. They put you in jail and throw away the key for shit like that.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Whatever my ass. Stay the fuck away from that shit, Chase.”

  “When did you become so concerned with foreign policy?”

  I draw in a breath and blow it out noisily. Sometimes I feel like I share too much with Chase. Ah, fuck. He needs to hear about this. “DW invited Gray. He’s the front man. I don’t want him involved in anything illegal. Gray’s too trusting. DW won’t think twice about dumping the whole mess in his lap if it turns sour.”

  “I’ll look around. Discreetly, of course.”

  “The answer is still no. Do not hack into anything that involves the feds. But if your fingers are itchy, there is something you can hack into for me.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Know anything about SOLO?”

  “The red cups we use for beer pong?”

  “Funny. Glad you found your sense of humor.”

  “What’s SOLO?”

  “That’s what I want to know. It’s an acronym for Sayle Only Logistical Operations.”

  “What a stupid name.”

  “Tell me about it. I spent all afternoon at Sayle. There’s a small group of scientists working on some type of antiviral agents. They gave me some bullshit story that didn’t make any sense. I can send you the write up they gave me, if it’ll help.”

  “Hate to break it to you, but you’ve always sucked at chemistry. It’s not that hard to confuse you. A lot of the stuff they work on at Sayle is complicated, even for people who know the difference between RNA and DNA.”

  “I might not be fucking Einstein, but I understand English pretty well, and can follow a cogent point from A to Z. Something didn’t feel right. And there was this one guy, Rofler, who was sweating like a pig the entire time I was there. The more questions I asked, the more he mopped his forehead.”

  “You make a lot of people nervous when you start asking questions. You have that charming way of turning conversations into interrogations.”

  Maybe. But that’s not what happened today. Rofler’s bad news. I know it. “This wasn’t like that. See what you can find. But DW is looking over my shoulder when it comes to Sayle. You need to get in and out quickly without anyone knowing you’ve been snooping.”

  “Is there any other way?”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass.”

  “How’s Zack?” Unlike Gray, Chase asks about his twin every time we talk.

  “He’s hanging in there. Kid’s tough as nails.”

  “Yeah. I’ll go by as soon as I get back in town.”

  “Look forward to it. I told him you were away saving the fucking world or some such shit.”

  “Hardly.”

  “You see much of DW?”

  “As little as possible. He has me running programs for him, and spying on other tech people they’ve hired. He doesn’t trust anyone.”

  “Make sure you watch yourself.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I know the bastard for exactly who he is.”

  No, you don’t. You just think you know him. “Still. Be careful.”

  * * *

  I hang up with Chase, and put down the top on the car. The air is thick and humid for mid-November. I can almost taste the salt. It reminds me of Gabrielle. Of the lone tear that rolled down her cheek and onto my tongue. I wonder how many tears I’ve caused her to shed these last fifteen years? Maybe none. Maybe she knew right away she was better off without me.

  Well, like it or not darlin’, I’m back.

  All afternoon I kept picturing her straddling that damn vibrator, beads of sweat trickling down her throat, into the valley between her breasts. I wanted to catch the salty beads on my tongue, too. Wanted it so bad. And those little whimpers and moans when I slapped her ass. Fuck me. I can’t believe I kept my own ass in the chair while she got herself off. Not going to lie, I wanted more. I always want more when it comes to her.

  But right now, my needs and wants are not important. What’s important is that Gabrielle remembers how much she loves dirty sex. How much she needs it. She might believe she beat the addiction. But no one ever beats it. The craving’s merely dormant, waiting for a filthy kiss to awaken from the long slumber. It’s still there. I made sure of that a long time ago.

  I glance at the time on the dashboard—screw it. I need to check in with her to make sure she’s okay. Right. There's no shortage of bullshit that I’m willing to swallow when it comes to her.

  “Call Gabrielle.” Calling Gabrielle, the automated voice repeats. If only everyone in my life was that quick to obey, things would be so much easier. The phone rings a few times before she answers.

  “Hello.” She’s out of breath.

  “I was afraid I’d wake you up, but you sound like you’ve been exercising. Or going another round with that vibrator.”

  She’s blushing. I don’t even need to see her face to know her cheeks are crimson. “No exercise of any kind. I’ve been looking for my keys for the last two hours. When the phone rang—it’s late—I worried something happened with my mother.”

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to alarm you. I’m on my way home and I want to make sure you’re okay after today. Things got a bit intense.”

  She doesn’t say anything for several seconds. I can almost hear her wheels turning. “If you don’t want to wake me, or startle me, they have this thing called texting. Have you heard about it?”

  My mouth curls into a broad smile, and a small laugh escapes. And just like that, my shoulders begin to loosen, the tension rolling off my back. “Now why would I want to text and miss the annoyance in your voice when you realize it’s me on the other end of the call? Not to mention that sassy little smile you have going on. Can’t hear that in a text.”

  “I promise to add LOL at the appropriate times. And I’m not smiling, JD.”

 
“No, not now. But you were.”

  “I don’t have time for this right now. I need to find my keys.”

  “Don’t you keep a spare set?”

  “Yes, of course. But that’s not the point. It’s the master keys for the entire building that are missing.”

  If I wasn’t so busy thinking about my dick, I might have thought better about her missing keys. “Maybe they fell out of your purse. When did you last have them?”

  “I didn’t put them in my purse. I don’t take them out of the building. They’re always on a hook behind my office door.”

  “Do you think someone borrowed them?”

  “No one borrowed them. I checked with everyone who works here. I’ve looked everywhere. I don’t know where else to look.”

  She sounds frazzled. I can almost see her furrowed brow, and her playing with her hair. Tugging and twirling the dark curls behind her ear. It’s a sure sign she’s stressed. She’s been doing it since she was a little girl. “Anything else missing?”

  “Not that I’ve noticed. You think someone broke into my office?”

  “It’s not that difficult to access the back offices.”

  “How did you get access? Did you pay off one of my employees?”

  “No. If one of your employees agreed to betray you for money, I would have fired them on the spot.”

  “Silly me. Of course you’d fire one of my employees if you didn’t approve of their conduct.”

  “Your security system isn’t hard to crack.”

  “You hacked into my security system? That’s how you got in?”

  “I’m coming over to help you search for the keys.”

  “No.”

  “Gabrielle, you don’t get to tell me no. That’s not how our arrangement works. I’m going to help you find those keys so you can get some sleep.”

  “If you come here, we won’t look for the keys. At least we won’t spend long looking for them. And I need to find them.” Her voice trails off to a whisper. “Not tonight, JD. Please.”

  She sounds bone tired, and after today, I’m probably at least partly responsible for the exhaustion. Besides, she’s right, if I go over there the keys will never get found. “Why I really called was to see how you’re feeling. Why don’t you tell me, and I’ll let you get back to your search.”