“Yeah, Mayflower Lane or some shit like that. It’s the ghetto dude, our girl is living in the ghetto.”
Because Katie disappeared without a trace. It was unreal. One minute we were part of a trio, going at it non-stop, Mace and me spurting into the delectable female again and again. But now our girl was gone. Up in the middle of the night, in the middle of sex for crying out loud, she excused herself and made a getaway.
“How do we know she’s gone for good?” I asked grimly. “Did Katie leave a note?”
Mason just shook his head, growling with frustration.
“Naw, no note, but check this out,” he said, opening his palm. “She left this.”
And shit, but the ring was there, both diamonds glinting and winking like they were taunting us. What the fuck? That thing cost us six figures, but suddenly it seemed worthless now that Katie didn’t want it anymore. Storming into the lobby like two giants, Mace and I attacked the doorman.
“Did you see her?” I questioned Leo, hands gripping his collar. “What was she doing?”
But elderly man couldn’t help, trembling in his red and gold uniform.
“Miss had a bag with her,” he stammered, looking down, almost shaking with fright. “She had a bag and called a cab.”
“Well, where’d they go?” demanded Mason, blue eyes sharp, voice a growl. “Where was a young girl going by herself in the middle of the night? Did you think to ask?”
Leo shuddered visibly, shrinking into himself.
“I didn’t see,” he muttered, bottom lip trembling. “I’m sorry sirs, I didn’t see.”
I closed my eyes, a headache coming on. Shit, this was so fucking lame. We’d pounded her good, loving that sweet body, worshipping everything about Katie. So why had she taken off in the middle of the night? What the hell, it made no sense.
It was especially confusing, and my mind circled back to that ring. Oh yeah, that engagement ring cost us six figures, but it was the right thing to do. The two diamonds, one light, one dark, symbolized everything Mace and I couldn’t say to Katie. It glimmered, so precious, so starkly rare and beautiful, and most of all, one hundred percent real. Because these were real diamonds, no cubic zirconia or lab-grown anything. Even if our relationship existed in a bubble, it was still real in some sense. We felt something for one another, engaging each other in endless chit chat, jokes, and even deep conversation.
So why the hell had Katie taken off? What in the world? I wanted to beat Leo into the ground, but that was no way to treat a loyal servant, especially one who was nearing seventy. So instead, I turned back to Mace.
“We’ll find her,” I ground out, blue eyes flashing. “We have to.”
My lover almost roared again, the rage and anguish totally visible.
“But what the fuck?” he protested. “Why now? What the hell?”
I shook my head.
“Who knows? But whatever it is, we’ve got to find her.”
So yeah, our private investigator was on it the next morning. And within hours, he’d located Katie. It wasn’t hard. Yellow cab with sweet, nubile eighteen-year old, departing the Markham Apartments around midnight last night? She couldn’t hide, an email with her address popping into our inboxes by eleven a.m. But when Mace and I realized where she was living, the nightmare began.
“Are you serious?” I grunted again, disbelieving. “This is the place?”
Because we’d taken an unmarked car out to New Jersey, slowly coasting down the block where our girl was allegedly staying. And frankly, there was nothing to see. Or more accurately, what there was to see was such an eyesore that it was better to close your eyes. Cracked concrete lined the sidewalks, each box-like house saggy and faded, more than a few broken windows papered over with cardboard. There was no vegetation in sight, the sun beating down, hot air visibly rising off the asphalt.
“Guess this Aunt Mae wasn’t exactly rolling in it,” muttered Mace, shaking that dark head. “Why the hell would she come here?”
Exactly. Why would Katie leave the comfort and luxury of our home to live in this dilapidated saltbox? She could be taking a bath in one of our dozen bathrooms, soaking in bubbles, or working out in the private gym. Whereas here, the metal chain link fences were grim, barking Rottweilers lunging inside.
But it wasn’t too late. More than anything, we just wanted answers. Why was she doing this? What happened to the plan? What happened to the fake engagement? Even if she didn’t want to do that anymore, still. Why take off in the middle of the night?
So setting my mouth in a line, I grimly opened the car door, unfolding my huge frame. Shit, Mace and I stood out like two rampaging lions in the sad little neighborhood. Our thousand dollars suits stood out, two perfectly-groomed, powerful alpha males exuding confidence, like Roman emperors visiting the slums. But it didn’t matter. We were going to yank our girl back out and put her in her place with that ring on her finger whether she liked it or not.
Striding up to the front door, I pounded loudly.
“Katie,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Open up. It’s us.”
No sound came out even as Mace and I stood on either side of that faded, sagging door like two sentinels.
“Little girl,” I tried again. “What the hell? We know you’re in there. Let us in.”
This time, the shade in the window twitched a bit and an old lady peered at us from the darkened interior.
“Who are you?” came a cackly voice. “Get off my doorstep!”
Mace and I shot puzzled looks at each other. Seems our intelligence was wrong. Auntie Mae was supposed to be dead, but from the looks of it, there was a wizened female inhabiting the house.
“Auntie Mae,” I began. “I’m Derek Smith, President of Major Enterprises …”
That’s usually enough for an introduction, people fawn and swoon when they realize I’m an executive at a Fortune 500 company. But in this case, it didn’t make one whit of a difference.
“Do you think I care?” screeched the old woman through the shutters. “Do you think that makes a difference to me? I don’t care if your name is Goombah or Poombah, it doesn’t matter where you work! Now what in the world are you doing on my doorstep?”
My lover and I looked at each other with startled expressions. We’re used to the red carpet being rolled out, a bunch of sycophants bowing and smiling, jumping at our beck and call. So to be here, in a shady neighborhood, with a cackly old witch calling us out was a new experience for sure. What the hell? How to deal with it?
But Mace stepped into the rescue, ever smooth and confident.
“Auntie Mae,” he rumbled, that deep voice persuasive. “If you’ll just let us in, we ….”
But he was cut off rudely.
“No! Go away!” she screeched from inside, the shade snapping shut. “I don’t let strange men into my house, ever!”
There was a scraping sound from inside, like a chair had just been pushed up against the door, and Mace and I goggled at one another then. Seriously? Was this old bat off her rocker or what? Did she think one chair was going to keep us from getting to our girl? Did she think that she was going to be able to keep Katie from us, that her nasty words had any effect whatsoever?
Grimly, I backed up a step, pushing up my sleeves. Because thousand dollar suit or not, I wasn’t above kicking in this shitty piece of wood. Hell, it probably wasn’t even wood, the door was likely made from some cardboard composite, it was that bad
And Mace was doing the same. The look on my lover’s face was a mixture of rage and desperation at this point, even as he took of his jacket to begin the assault. But right as we both leaned back to attack, the door cracked open and I saw that we’d been wrong. The scraping sound hadn’t been a chair being pushed up as further protection. The sound had been of the woman pulling out firearms, loading a gun as she armed herself. And now here we were, staring down the barrel of a rifle.
It was like out of an old-time western. Auntie Mae couldn’t have been more than fi
ve feet tall, bent over with a big humpback, wearing a faded housedress. But the rifle in her arms was no joke. Almost as long as her, the firearm was polished and oiled, obviously lovingly maintained.
“Don’t think I don’t know how to shoot this!” she screeched, swinging the barrel at first me, and then Mason. “I’ve been going to the gun range every week since I was fifteen. Taken down more than a few with this baby here!”
Immediately, both my hands flew up.
“Lady, take it easy,” I murmured in a soothing voice. “Just take it easy.”
Mace did the same, backing away slowly, that dark form filled with repressed energy. But I could see that he wasn’t giving up. And before I could say anything, he was on the old lady in a snap, struggling with her for the gun.
“Stop! Stop! Or I’ll shoot!” she screeched. For someone so small and bent over, Auntie Mae was curiously strong because my lover actualy had to tussle with her for a few seconds before yanking the rifle out of her hands. Those gnarled fingers looked positively arthritic, how in the world was she going to aim and fire?
But Auntie Mae is a real crackerjack because even though Mason had the gun in his arms now, the old lady launched herself at him like a rocket-propelled missile, landing on that big form while screeching and hitting with clawed fingers.
“Give it back!” she screeched. “Give it back, that was my Great Uncle Joe’s Confederate rifle! Give it back, you big lout!”
And at this point, everything collapsed. Because Mace is an asshole, but he’s not about to go around hitting women, especially not old ladies who are seventy and frail. So instead, they tumbled to the floor, that huge form bouncing and rolling reflexively, but the crone collapsed like a bag of bones.
“Owwww!” she squealed, both hands gripping her back, writhing in agony on the doorstep. “Owwww!”
And it was then that Katie appeared. Shit, our girl was so beautiful, flushed and eyes wide, curls in disarray.
“What in the world?” she cried out. “You guys beat up my great-aunt? How could you?” she demanded, immediately dropping to her knees next to the old lady. “How could you?”
I was totally flummoxed, mouth opening and closing with no words. Because hadn’t she seen? This old bat was crazy, she’d waved a gun in our faces, threatening us with bodily harm. It wasn’t us, it was her!
But Katie didn’t seem to care.
“I can’t believe you did this!” she cried out again, her hands lifting Aunt Mae’s head so that the graying head was cradled in her lap. “I can’t believe you guys picked on a little old lady!”
At that, I had to step in.
“Listen, there is nothing helpless about this woman. She threatened us!” I protested. “Mace, show her the rifle. That rifle’s hers, it’s not ours. We didn’t bring it here from New York, she showed up on the stoop with that thing.”
The dark man held out the firearm like it was show and tell, nodding furiously. His suit was rumpled now, a lock of black hair falling over his eye, making my lover look like Superman. But even Superman can be cowed because Lois Lane wasn’t having it. Katie merely cried out again.
“Aunt Mae’s my only living relative! She’s the one who encouraged me to go to art school, my only source of emotional support! And now you guys have injured her! Oh my god, oh my god.”
I stared at the gray-haired old lady, still moaning with pain on the doorstep, her head lolling from side to side as if in agony. Shit, it wasn’t much of a fall, but who knows with old people? Supposedly, they can break a hip just from a bump, and maybe we’d done that to her. Maybe we’d permanently injured Katie’s precious Auntie Mae, and she’d never recover, bound to a wheelchair forever.
But as Katie looked up to yell at Mason again, suddenly Auntie Mae winked at me. I stared, unable to believe my eyes. But sure enough, the little old lady winked again while carrying on with her cries.
“My hip! My head! It hurts, it hurts!” she wailed. “Owwww!” came out a pitiful cry, punctuated with another wink.
And suddenly I realized what had happened. Katie had likely been stowed away in a back room, refusing to come out. And to get her to make an appearance, Auntie Mae had staged this whole thing. The rifle, the nasty words, even the fighting. It was all a ploy so that her niece could be enticed from her hidey hole, so that Katie would come out and meet her lovers.
And nodding quickly, I had an idea.
“Come on, we’ve got to get her to a hospital,” I grunted to Mason. “Let’s put her in the car. Katie, you’re going to have to come too. You’re her closest relative, and there’ll be a bunch of papers to sign.”
I half-expected the brunette to protest, to say she wasn’t going anywhere with us, but instead, the girl nodded, tears in her eyes.
“Hurry!” she cried out. “Hurry, Auntie Mae could be really hurt!”
I almost choked, but the old lady went with it, shooting me another sly wink.
“Owww!” she howled. “Owwww! Owww!”
Okay, now things were getting out of hand. Mae’s cries sounded more like a wolf baying at the moon than a human in distress, but some people really have a flair for the dramatic. So I gestured to Mason to pick her up.
“Dude, put her in the car, I’ll follow with Katie.”
Mace looked like he was about to protest, and I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to be locked up in a small space speeding down the highway with this crazy bat. But the thing is, she wasn’t crazy. Auntie Mae was working in our best interests, and the car ride would be a great time for him to find out.
So despite his mutinous look, I shot him a glare.
“Yo dude, really. Just do it.”
And with an enraged humph, he lifted Auntie Mae into his arms, gentle despite everything, and slowly carried her to the black sedan.
“See you there,” he threw over his shoulder, blue eyes going between me and Katie. “See you there.”
I nodded before turning to our best girl.
“After you,” I said with exaggerated courtesy, almost bowing. “After you, or would you like me to carry you?”
Her face grew pink, that creamy complexion flushing the most beautiful shade. But her aunt’s supposed injury was more important because instead of yelling or sniping back, she merely took a deep breath and pointed to the hatchback in the driveway.
“Well, if I can convince you to get into this deathtrap, then we can take off,” she said tightly. “Or is the ride not nice enough for you?”
I quirked a brow at her. Clearly, Katie was her old sassy self still, no wilting wallflower here.
“It’s fine,” I said with exaggerated courtesy once more. “But should I drive or do you want to? Seems like you’ve had some excitement recently, maybe it’d be better if I took the wheel.”
And rolling those big brown eyes, the brunette tossed the keys at me.
“Fine, let’s go,” she said shortly, getting into the beat-up old VW. Shit, this thing really was a death trap. The window wouldn’t roll down and the seatbelt on the driver’s side was busted, stuck as I tried to yank it forwards.
“You want me to drive?” my girl said archly to me. “I don’t mind going without a seatbelt. After everything that’s happened, that’s the least of our worries.”
I just growled once more, pulling again hard. No luck. Forget it. And looking straight ahead with a determined expression, I jammed the key in the ignition and revved the motor, the car roaring to life before settling into a distinct putter.
“Naw,” I growled. “No seatbelt’s gonna save me from this vehicle. If we don’t explode in a ball of flames on the highway first.”
Katie just rolled her eyes again, crossing those arms over her soft breasts.
“We’ll be fine,” she said sarcastically. “We’ll be fine.”
And I grunted, eyes fixed on the drive while pulling the car out onto the road.
“Hopefully we survive,” I growled.
But once the car got going, I turned to the girl, looking
at her from the corner of my eye. The air inside crackled with energy even if it was silent.
“So what was that all about?” I asked, like nothing was wrong. “What was that?”
Katie turned towards me.
“That was my Aunt Mae trying to protect me,” she said tightly. “I told her everything about us. About me, you and Mason, about the fake engagement, the fake everything, and she was disgusted. She was just trying to protect me.”
I snorted because that statement was certainly wrong. Auntie Mae wanted Katie to be with us, it was the opposite of what the brunette thought, she just didn’t know it. But there was no point in getting into that just yet.
“But why’d you take off?” I asked, my voice a low growl. “Why’d you jet like we were lepers or fucking criminals?” Because deep inside, that was the part that hurt the most. Katie, Mason and I had developed a bond I thought, something real even though we were acting out a play. And even if she didn’t feel it, surely it was weird to take off with no warning? So why had she done it?
But the girl refused to answer, instead turning towards the passenger side window and staring out stonily, mouth in a line. I had half a mind to drag her into my lap even as we sped down the highway, to force her to kiss me, opening those lips and breathing some answers. But fine. We’d wait. We’d wait until Mason was here to start with the real Q and A.
And with a squeal of tires, I pulled into the hospital parking lot. Shit, there was the black sedan, and sure enough, there was a pair of orderlies wheeling Auntie Mae into the emergency room as the old lady clutched her leg, screeching, “It hurts! It hurts! Get me a doctor!”
So now it was her leg now, huh? No more back pains? I exchanged a glance with Mason, who trailed the wheelchair into the nondescript building. Clearly, he’d had a talk with Auntie Mae on the ride over, and knew exactly what was going on.
But Katie didn’t know and was frantic with panic.
“Is my aunt going to be okay?” she asked, rushing up to the front desk and gripping the counter. “She’s all I have.”
Oh shit, the brunette had tears in her eyes again, lip trembling. This was just a farce. This was just a small lie within our bigger make-believe story, and there was no reason to be so worried. But of course, the nurse had no idea that Mae was faking, and acted bored, snapping her gum.
Double Dare: A Fake Fiancee MMF Romance Page 11
