by Caitlyn Dare
But my father doesn’t work for Quinctus. He works for the Mayor’s office.
Pulling out my cell phone, I snap a picture of the names and carefully reorganize all the documents. I close the lid and place the box back on the shelf, making sure everything is left exactly as it was. Then I hurry upstairs to my bedroom and turn on my computer.
Once it flickers to life, I pull up Google and open the photo of the list of names. Typing the first one in, I wait for the search to populate.
My brows furrow as I scan the list of results. I’ve never heard of Landon Stanley, but apparently Google has. His name litters newspaper reports and online articles. But it’s one specific headline that piques my interest.
“Investment banker Landon Stanley found dead after car spins on black ice and falls into a ravine.” Huh.
The back of my neck prickles as I move onto the next name. Jeffery Poulter. Prosecutor for a law firm in Mercury Falls, a town not far from Gravestone. The results pull up a similar story. Jeffery was driving home from work when he lost control of his car and hit an oncoming truck. He died before the EMTs got to the hospital.
When I’m done working through the list, I sit back, trying to fit together the pieces of this unexpected puzzle. These men were all in prominent positions of society. Investment bankers. Lawyers. Government officials. And they all died in road traffic accidents.
Just like Gregory Kingsley.
What does it all mean?
And why the hell does my father have their names in a filing box marked with the Quinctus crest?
I pull out my phone and text the only person I trust with this.
Mouse: Can you talk?
My cell phone starts ringing, and I hit answer.
“Bexley,” I breathe.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I think I found something, but I don’t really understand what it all means.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“I’m at my uncle’s house. Send me the address, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thank you.” Relief floods me.
“Mia…” His voice cracks.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I should have told the truth.”
“It’s probably better you didn’t.” I feel the anger in his words. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“Okay.” I hang up and stare at the list of names again.
Who were these men?
And why did they all end up dead?
19
Bexley
I pull up outside the house my GPS directed me to.
It looks like the perfect family home with a wraparound porch, complete with a swing seat. I might never have met Mia's parents, but I can almost picture her mom sitting there reading while her and her dad kick a ball around the yard.
It's the style of house that makes me yearn for the kind of normal upbringing I didn't have.
Yes, I have the money and everything my parents could buy for me, but none of that compares to having a real loving, caring family who actually spent more time at home than they did at work or schmoozing clients at fancy functions.
Climbing from my car, I spot movement in one of the upstairs windows and my heart starts to beat faster.
I was pissed at her for blowing me off yesterday and then being with Cade, really fucking pissed, but one look at her this morning with the dark circles under her eyes and I instantly softened. She wanted to be there just about as much as I wanted her there, but we both know that right now, there's little we can do about it.
I force the memories down and jog up the steps to her front door. I lift my hand to knock, but the door opens before I get a chance.
"Hey," Mia says almost shyly, pulling the door open and inviting me inside.
"Hey. Are your parents home?" I ask, noting the empty driveway I just pulled up beside.
"Nope."
"Good."
With my hand around her throat, I push her back against the wall, kicking the door closed behind me. All the air rushes from her lungs with the impact, but I don't give her a chance to recover. Instead, I make use of her parted lips and thrust my tongue between them.
It only takes her a second to get with the program before her hands wrap around my sides and she sucks my bottom lip into her mouth, making my cock swell, wishing it was that she was sucking on.
"Fuck, little mouse," I groan, ripping my lips from hers and kissing down her neck.
Her leg curls around my hip, and I grind into her.
"Bexley," she moans.
"Do you know how fucking mad I was last night, seeing you with him?"
"Yes," she breathes, and I pull down the neck of her tank to bite down on the swell of her breast. "I know, I'm sorry, I—"
"Don't. Don't apologize for something you have no control over."
"Oh God," she whimpers as I pull the cup of her bra down and suck her nipple into my mouth.
"I need you, mouse. I need you so fucking bad,"
"I'm right here."
Dropping to my knees, I undo the button around her waist and tug the fabric down her hips. She kicks her shorts and panties aside. Throwing one of her legs over my shoulder, I run my tongue through her folds.
"Oh God," she cries when I circle her clit.
As much as I might want to eat her for fucking hours, I'm too desperate to be inside her to give her too much time.
Pulling away, I stand, slamming my lips down on hers. She reaches out, making quick work of my pants before dipping her hand inside my boxers for my cock. "Mia," I moan when her fingers wrap around the length. "Need to be inside you right now. Turn around."
She immediately does as I say, sticking her bare ass out toward me, teasing me.
“Hands on the wall. This is gonna be quick.”
"Okay."
I take two seconds to appreciate how fucking sexy she looks before I run my cock through her wetness and push inside. She's tight like always, and it damn near makes my eyes cross as I slide myself in deeper.
"Bexley," she moans, flexing her hips as she adjusts to my size.
Wrapping my hands around her hips, I pull her back to meet my thrust, hitting her deep and making her cry out in pleasure. My body heats as my release surges forward an embarrassingly short time later.
Releasing one side of her, I slip my hand around her front to pinch her clit.
"Bexley," she cries as her pussy clamps down on my cock seconds before we both fall over the edge.
I'm still inside her when the sound of a car outside has her body locking up with tension.
"Fuck. Fuck. Is that my mom?"
I step back, quickly tucking myself away as she flies toward the window, pulling the blind back a little.
Her relief is instant. "It's just the neighbors."
"Aw, I'm sure your mom would love me."
"Yeah, aside from the fact they think they're marrying me off to someone else. Someone, I should add, who she thinks is wonderful."
"Okay, so I've just gone off your mother a little," I admit, picking up her discarded clothes and passing them over to her.
"She's blinded by the glitz, glamor and money. She thinks that being Cade's prosapia is the world's biggest privilege."
"You're not selling her to me."
"I wasn't trying to. Come on, I need to show you something."
"Your bedroom," I ask, waggling my eyebrows.
"Well, yes, but it's what I've got inside that I want to show you."
"Okay, lead the way."
I follow her ass up the stairs, wishing all the way that she hadn’t put her shorts back on yet. She shows me to her desk and starts explaining what she's found.
"So what do you think it means?" she asks, standing next to me with her ass perched on the desk.
"I think… I don't know what I think, aside from this all being suspicious as fuck."
“You said you were at Marcus'. Did he have anything to say?"
"N
o. He just kept repeating that we needed to trust that Q knows what they're doing and that I need to protect you."
"Me?"
"Yeah. Why do you look surprised? We all know that Cade is dangerous."
She lifts her hand, pushing her hair back. “I know, it's just hearing you say it like that… it makes the threat seem so real.”
"It is. What happened at your picnic yesterday, mouse?"
"Nothing really." I narrow my eyes at her, sensing that she's hiding something. "He tried and, thanks to Channing, failed to get what he wanted."
"He's not going to wait until your ceremony at this rate."
"It's tradition. He has to."
I quirk a brow.
"I hope."
"What if you can't get out of it by then?"
"Then…" She blows out a long breath. "Then I have to see it through."
My body freezes with her words. There's no fucking way I'm letting him make things official in the eyes of Q. There's no fucking way I'm going to let him touch her.
"I'm sorry, Bex. But it might be the only way. We might need more time."
I know this, I do. But it doesn't stop it from hurting.
Pushing that issue aside for now, I focus back on why we're here.
"What are you doing?" she asks as I pull my cell from my pocket.
"Calling James. If Marcus won't help, I think you're right. He's the next one to ask about all this."
After a short conversation, I discover that he's thankfully in Sterling Bay right now, and he—somewhat reluctantly—agrees to meet us.
"He's going to send me an address for a diner out of town, and we're going to meet him there," I tell Mia.
"Now?"
"In an hour, yeah. It's only about thirty minutes from here though, so we've got a little time."
"Is that right?" she asks, a knowing smile pulling at her lips.
The diner is deserted when we pull into the lot exactly an hour later. Not two seconds later does another car roll in behind us.
"Is that him?" Mia asks, staring out the window.
"Yeah. Come on then, let's see if we can find anything out."
"Bexley," he says, holding his hand out to me when we meet just before the entrance to the diner. "Good to see you, son. And this must be Mia. It's a pleasure," he says, also shaking her hand. "I've heard a lot about you, young lady."
Mia's cheeks turn bright red.
"F-from where?"
"That doesn't matter right now. Shall we?" He gestures toward the doors, and the three of us step inside.
There is only one server as we walk in, and we're quickly seated in a booth in the farthest corner of the restaurant.
"Is it always this quiet?" Mia asks, filling the silence that's descended.
"No. I booked the entire place."
"At an hour's notice?" She balks.
"Yes. I sense we might need to discuss some… sensitive topics, so I thought it for the best."
"Right. I'm sorry, but who are you exactly?" Mia asks as she stares James directly in the eyes. Pride for my girl oozes from me as she holds her own against him.
Everyone knows that James Jagger takes no prisoners, but she doesn't seem fazed in the slightest.
"I work for Q," he states. “My grandfather and grandmother fled from Gravestone after falling in love. My father was promised to someone else. Sound familiar?" he asks, looking between the two of us.
"Somewhat," I mutter, having already heard this story from my mom.
"They moved to Gravestone, and thankfully my father was in a position with Q that he could broker a deal. He agreed to work for them if they agreed to make Sterling a safe haven, that they wouldn't come after either of them or others who flee.”
"What did your grandfather know or do to hold that much power over them?" Mia asks, enthralled by this story.
"That doesn't matter right now. Marcus—my great-uncle, your grandfather—stayed. His son took my father's place as heir, and everything would have continued."
"But he died."
"Died after also falling for the wrong woman. A woman who had you."
"Okay we know all this," Mia says in a rush, wanting to get to the main point of the meeting. "I was never meant to be Cade's prosapia," she states with confidence.
"Your name was in the calix, Mia."
"I know, but it threw everyone for a loop. It wasn't meant to be me. Someone planned it, and I want to know why." Her voice begins to rise with her anger. "Cade is unhinged, a complete psycho, and someone thought it would be a good idea for us to be together."
James swallows somewhat nervously as Mia's emotions begin to get the better of her.
"We found this," she says, slamming the list of names down on the desk. "I found it in my father's office after hearing him having a very suspicious conversation with Phillip Cargill. I need to know if this is all linked, if this is going to help me get myself out of this hell before Cade Kingsley kills me.”
James takes the piece of paper, but he doesn't look at it long enough to really read the names. He knows exactly what it is.
"Gregory Kingsley's accident was no accident, was it?" I ask James, voicing my suspicions.
"No. It was not."
"So why? Why was he killed along with all these other men?”
"The other men don't matter. They are not linked. The only reason they are on the same piece of paper is because they met the same end."
"So Q killed Gregory Kingsley,” she deadpans. “Why? And how does this involve me?"
20
Mia
“Why does my father have the list? It doesn’t make any sense,” I say, trying to process everything.
“That I can’t tell you.” James gives me an apologetic look. “But know that this knowledge is dangerous. In the wrong hands, it could be catastrophic.”
“This is why Marcus didn’t want me snooping around,” Bexley says. “Why he’s told me nothing.”
“We all keep secrets, son. You know that.” James levels Bexley with a strange look.
“What do you mean?” I ask, a trickle of awareness zipping up my spine.
“That’s for Bexley to tell you.”
My stomach dips as I search Bexley’s face for answers.
“Not here,” he says, squeezing my knee under the table. “Later. It feels like we’re still going around in circles. If Quinctus are that worried about Cade, why can’t they just… you know, get rid of him?”
His words made me flinch. Of course, I’m not immune to the whispers of dark deeds that follow Quinctus and the Electi wherever they go. But there’s hearing about it and then knowing it.
“Nothing in this world is that simple, Bexley. Let’s just say the Kingsley name still holds a lot of sway with Q’s associates. If Cade were to just disappear, it would create problems.”
“How do you know all of this?” I ask.
“My business with Q affords me certain knowledge.”
“And what exactly is it you do?”
“Mia,” Bexley warns.
“It’s quite alright.” James smiles. “You’re strong. Inquisitive. You’re going to need that in the coming weeks. I’m what you might call a fixer.”
“A fixer?”
“I make problems disappear. Paper trails, money trails…”
“People trails?” Bexley raises a brow, and James chuckles.
“I leave the more hands-on stuff to others. I’m fortunate; I have one foot in Gravestone business and one foot out.”
“Why did you agree to meet us?”
“Because I’m far enough removed that I can tell you what I know without raising alarm bells. There’s a splinter in Q. Those who believe in walking into the future and embracing new ways. And those who aren’t ready to leave the past behind. Gregory Kingsley dabbled with bringing the past into the future, and it cost him his life.”
James hesitates, waiting as the server brings us a fresh pot of coffee. “Thank you,” he says. She leaves us and he continues
.
“There are those in Q who want to see Cade succeed. To follow in his father’s footsteps. And there are those outside of Q who have a vested interest in Cade’s legacy.”
“Let me guess,” Bexley scoffs. “You can’t tell us who.”
“Cade’s uncle. Lincoln Kingsley. After Gregory… died, he made Quinctus promise to protect Cade. To nurture him and raise him to fulfil his rightful place.”
“Well, they didn’t do a very good fucking job.”
“This is why your presence is so important, Bexley. The Electi needs balance. It needs level headedness.”
“If Q thinks my presence is going to do anything but antagonize Kingsley, then they really don’t know their Electi very well at all. He’s gunning for blood, James. My blood.”
“It won’t get that far.” He lets out a long, steady breath. “Cade is just testing boundaries. But eventually he’ll push too hard, and Q will push back.”
“I don’t like it.” Bexley slips his arm around the back of my shoulder. “I don’t like it at all. This isn’t some… some game. This is our lives.”
“I know. For that, I am sorry.”
“Sorry? You get to live out your life in Sterling Bay, removed from all this. Ace, Cole, and Conner will never have to sacrifice their lives for some… cult.”
James flinches. “There are still things you do not understand. Sacrifices my family made…”
“Yeah, I’m sure it was very hard, running away.” Bexley shoots up. “I need some fresh air.” He glances at me, regret shining there. “I’ll be in the car. James, I’d say it’s been nice to see you, but really, it hasn’t.” He stalks off, leaving me alone with James Jagger.
Silence hangs between us, and then I say, “All I want to know is how we get out of this.”
His expression hardens, and then he says the two little words I’ve feared since this whole thing started.
“You don’t.”
James settles the check, and we walk out of the diner side by side.
“I really am sorry, Mia.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I will talk to Marcus. The stubborn old fool is too blinded by the past to realize what’s staring him in the face. I know it feels like you’re alone in this, but I promise you that you’re not.”
