by Mari Carr
Franco shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll leave the James Bond stuff to you. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you do that’s more fascinating than stuff like this.” Franco waved a map around, nearly knocking Sebastian in the face with it.
Sebastian took it out of the man’s hand before he lost an eye, and then glanced at the faded, torn parchment. It was obviously a very old map. “You call this interesting? It’s not even the whole map.”
Franco reclaimed the map carefully, holding it as delicately as a first-time mother would her newborn. “Take it easy with that.”
“What’s it a map of?” Sebastian asked.
“I have no idea, but it was stashed in between Richard and Jessica Breton’s files. Here, take a look at this.” Franco pointed to the bottom of the map where someone had penciled in initials, followed by question marks. The letters R.B. topped the list.
Sebastian looked at Franco. “You think R.B. stands for Richard Breton?”
“That would make sense.”
As Sebastian studied the map once more, he noticed two more sets of initials. “What about the others? C.W.? M.H.? Who are they?”
“I don’t have a clue. Wait.” Franco walked over to a pile of file folders and started rifling through them. After a few minutes, he looked up, disappointed. “None of these files include members with those initials.”
“But we only brought the ones for the Bretons and a fraction of the others we need to look at. We need to widen the net,” Devon suggested.
Juliette blew out a long, weary breath. They’d obviously been at this for a while. “Yeah, but how much wider? Let’s face it. There are bound to be quite a few members with those initials. Besides, we don’t even know if R.B. stands for Richard Breton. After all, there’s a question mark after all those initials. It could refer to someone or something completely different.”
“Somebody’s getting hungry,” Franco joked. “Jules turns into Debbie Downer when her stomach’s empty.”
Juliette flung her pen at Franco, laughing when it bounced off his forehead. “Asshole. But now that you mention it…I wouldn’t complain if you called to have a pizza delivered. Large with everything. And get something for yourself, of course.”
Franco chuckled then reached for his cell phone, stumbling slightly. “I can grab us some sodas. You sticking around to eat, Seb?”
Sebastian shook his head. “No. I have to head back to the hotel soon.”
Devon had his nose back in the file on Richard Breton, worry lines forming around his eyes. “Tell you what, Seb, I’ll see what information I can track down on Senator Breton in the agency files. Maybe I can find out what other committees he served on while in office. I might even be able to discover who he was pointing fingers at during the McCarthy era.”
Sebastian rose and shook Devon’s hand. “Thanks, Dev.”
“And here.” Juliette handed him the map. “Why don’t you leave this laying around the hotel somewhere for Grant to stumble upon? Let’s see if he recognizes it.”
Franco whimpered. “My map.”
“Are you sure?” Sebastian asked.
Juliette shrugged. “It’s a long shot at best, but considering there aren’t enough markers on it to tell us what city it represents, I don’t see what it could hurt. If he asks, just say it’s something you’re working on for the CIA.”
Sebastian took the map and tucked it carefully into an empty file folder to protect it. God only knew how Franco would react if he folded it up and stuffed it in his pocket. “I’m going to run upstairs and grab some more clothes.”
“I’ll go with you,” Juliette said, following him out of the living room.
Sebastian preferred to pack alone. The look on his best friend’s face told him he was in for a third degree that had nothing to do with Grant and everything to do with his “punishment”.
He tried to head her off at the pass. “Franco is a great guy, Jules, but…” Sebastian let the but hover, knowing it would drive her crazy.
“But what?” she asked haughtily when he didn’t finish his statement.
“But he’s kind of clumsy, isn’t he? Reminds me of a newborn colt trying to stand up.”
Juliette got a kick out of his description. “Oh my God. That’s the perfect analogy. Wait until I tell Dev that one.”
“The three of you really seem to fit.” He entered his bedroom and started rummaging through his closet for winter clothing. He had a wool overcoat somewhere in here.
“You’re a slob,” Juliette pointed out, though the comment coming from her felt as common as someone else saying, “good morning”.
“So you keep telling me. Sorry, but most of the world doesn’t work in that obsessive-compulsive way you do.” Juliette’s room looked like an infomercial for extreme organization; everything packed away in clearly marked boxes, organized alphabetically and seasonally…if that was possible.
Meanwhile, his room looked like something out of Storage Wars. She gave him shit every time they were home together, making a comment about how unorganized he was.
As he sifted through the suits, jeans, un-ironed shirts and running jackets, tossing hanger after hanger aside in his search for that damn winter coat, he had to admit she probably had a point. But he sure wasn’t saying that out loud.
“So…how’s Elle?”
Sebastian was in such a rush to pack and get out, he’d forgotten to maintain conversation meant to distract her. “She’s fine.”
Hell would freeze over before Juliette let that lame response fly. “Just fine?”
Sebastian sighed and gave up on shifting hangers down the pole. Instead, he started yanking them off, tossing them to the floor.
“In a hurry, Seb?”
“Look, Jules,” he turned to look at her, “I just need a few things. I really don’t need help packing.”
Juliette studied his face, her gaze too piercing. He’d been a jackass to establish eye contact, but now that he had, he couldn’t look away. To do so would be an outright admission that something was wrong.
“Tell me about Elyse. I’ll admit I was concerned when I realized she’d joined the Trinity Masters. I know she was a legacy, but that birthright doesn’t come with automatic admittance. I’m worried Harrison was wrong to initiate her.”
Sebastian frowned, despite the fact he understood where Juliette’s concerns came from. Elyse had definitely projected herself in an unfavorable way when they were younger, hanging out with the snobby girls, taking the lower-level courses, feigning boredom and laziness in school—all as a way of hiding the fact that reading was nearly impossible for her.
“He wasn’t wrong.”
Juliette’s eyes widened at his too-gruff, too-short answer. “Really?” Her question was an invitation to elaborate, but Sebastian wasn’t sure how.
“Look, Jules. I’m doing what I promised. We’re going to find those lost legacies, discover if our enemies are still at work and if they are, we’re going to shut them down.” As Sebastian spoke, he threw stuff in a suitcase he’d dragged off the top shelf of his closet. He wasn’t even looking at what he was packing, just trying to load it up with clothing, so he could get the hell out of there. With his luck, he’d return to the hotel with nothing more than stained t-shirts, ugly Christmas sweaters and running pants, but he didn’t care.
“I appreciate your help, Seb. Honestly. But that’s not really what I asked.”
Leave it to Juliette to call him out for his bullshit. Thing was…this wasn’t their first rodeo. He’d gotten very good at filling the empty spaces between them with meaningless words. Sebastian had been forced to hide too many things from her over the past few years, including his association with the CIA and the fact he’d been spying on her for Devon, using her as an unwitting asset. None of that had sat right with him, but he’d done it because he’d believed it would keep her safe. After Elyse had shattered his black-and-white, good-vs.-evil world, Sebastian found lots of blurry lines. “Everything is fine.”
&nb
sp; She sighed, the sound full of disappointment. He slammed the suitcase shut and latched it. Time to retreat.
He’d almost made it to the door of his bedroom. Almost.
“Again. Not what I asked.”
Sebastian turned, offered her a guilty smile, a shrug and then…more nothingness. “I’ll check in soon, Jules. Promise.”
With that, he left. And as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he realized how much he wanted, how much he needed to come clean…to someone.
He was tired of running away from people.
Elyse moved the food around on her plate more than she ate it. Since Sebastian’s quick departure, they’d fallen once more into the trap of silence that was only broken occasionally by polite conversations so annoyingly meaningless that Grant felt the need to hit a gym—and then the punching bag.
Elyse took another sip of her water. They’d both given up on the wine. The pleasant, warm haze it had created vanished with Sebastian, tossing them both back into this cold, sterile existence.
He wanted to blame Sebastian and Elyse for the distance that remained between the three of them, but as they continued to eat, it dawned on him it was his fault too.
Grant had been going completely against character, playing the nice guy, letting them get away with this shit.
Time to take off the kid gloves. And the mask.
He leaned over and stabbed a small potato from Elyse’s plate. She glanced up, surprised by his actions. “Open up.”
She didn’t move, so he did. Grant scooted his chair closer to her, twisting hers and capturing her knees between his thighs. They were facing each other, with no more than a few inches between them.
“Grant—”
He shook his head, unwilling to hear whatever lame protest she intended to make. He’d never been particularly good at accepting the word no. “I’m going to feed you.”
“I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself.”
“Yeah. But you aren’t doing it. You’re pushing food around on your plate and pretending that Sebastian’s sudden departure didn’t hurt your feelings.”
Her spine stiffened. Elyse did not like to appear weak. “He didn’t—”
“Stop talking.” His tone was gruff. While it took Elyse aback, Grant realized it was the first time he’d sounded like himself since walking into this hotel suite. “Open your mouth, Elyse. You need to eat. You need your strength for what comes next.”
She didn’t ask him to clarify that comment. If he weren’t so turned on by their close proximity, he might have laughed. Elyse was obviously too afraid to ask what she’d need her strength for. Clever girl. That self-preservation would serve her well—outside the bedroom. Inside—not so much.
She accepted the bite of potato, chewing slowly as he dragged his plate next to hers and helped himself to some broccoli.
“That comment sounded ominous.”
So much for her self-preservation. His respect for her grew. She was feisty. “I’m going to ask you a question, Elyse. And you’re going to give me a straightforward, honest answer.”
“And what if I don’t?”
Her question delighted him. Grant leaned closer until their faces were so near he could feel her hot breath on his cheek. “If you don’t, I’m going to pull down those lounge pants, toss you over my knee and spank the answer out of you.”
Her mouth gaped and she inhaled loudly. “There’s no way in hell I’d let you do that.”
Grant chuckled. “It’s not a question of you letting me do anything. But just so you know, there’s not a doubt in my mind, given what I’ve observed, that you’re going to love it when I spank that pretty little ass of yours.”
“I haven’t done one thing that would make you think I’d invite or enjoy something like that.”
Their lips were close now. It wouldn’t require much movement for him to kiss her, but he resisted the urge.
“You’re wrong.” He reached out and pinched her nipple, roughly, through her shirt and bra. She gasped and blushed. And then she moaned when he increased the pressure even more. The sound gave her away.
“Pain arouses you. Turns you on. Even if you don’t realize it yet.”
“I don’t like arrogant, domineering men.”
Grant couldn’t resist. She was so fucking beautiful. He closed the short distance between them and kissed her flushed cheek. “I’m sure you don’t. Outside the bedroom. But that’s where I intend to control you,” he whispered in her ear.
Her hands, until that point, had remained in her lap, but now she lifted them, placing them on his chest. Grant braced himself, in case she intended to push him away. She didn’t. Nor did she seek to back away. She held her ground.
She turned her face slightly and treated him to the same soft kiss he’d just given her. Grant tried to recall the last time a woman had kissed his cheek. For such a platonic buss, it packed a punch. Grant’s cock had remained semi-erect since that explosive make-out session on the couch with Sebastian. Now, it thickened, grew harder.
“I almost gave my virginity to Seb. Back in school.”
Her words were spoken so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. He leaned back so that he could see her face. Her gaze met his and he knew, at last, she was going to confide in him. Answer the question he hadn’t had the chance to ask.
“Almost?”
She nodded. “Graduation night. We were at a celebration party with all our classmates at the Four Seasons. He and I had escaped to my room.”
“Your parents had gotten you your own hotel room at the Four Seasons?”
She grinned. “Silver spoons, remember?”
“You and I had very different upbringings. But that’s a discussion for a later time. What happened in the room?”
The same shadow that kept hovering nearby reappeared. Her green eyes darkened with sadness and he recalled the tears she’d tried to hide from him yesterday.
“I loved my brother, Grant. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
It was an odd segue, but Grant didn’t interrupt. Clearly there was a connection.
“I’m sure you did,” he said.
“We were twins.”
“As an only child, I’m jealous of that connection. I would have loved to have a brother growing up.”
She acknowledged his comment with a sad smile. “When we were kids, we were so close. And then…” She paused for a moment. This conversation was painful. “And then, we weren’t. I know he wasn’t exactly a good person. You have to understand what it was like for me and Elliot growing up. Our father was very strict and he had tremendously high standards—for himself, his employees and his kids. Mistakes weren’t welcome and weakness of any kind was unacceptable.”
Grant frowned. Clearly the privileges Elyse and her brother enjoyed thanks to their family’s extreme wealth came with a steep price. Suddenly his middle-class upbringing with two loving parents felt like a much better deal.
“That sounds like an impossible way to live.”
She nodded, her face clearing. “Yes, exactly. So I knew what was driving Elliot, I understood why he did the things he did. I’m not trying to make excuses for him because the truth is he did some really shitty things. All I’m saying is, I know what he was up against, how hard it was for him.”
There had been two kids in that house. Apparently Elliot went bad. Grant didn’t mention that she’d faced the same struggles or point out how wonderful she’d turned out. But that was a conversation they were going to have at a later time.
“What did he do, Elyse?”
“Seb’s dad is DEA. All of his parents work in law enforcement in some capacity. I guess it shouldn’t have come as any surprise that he followed in their footsteps.”
She was hedging.
“What did Elliot do?”
Elyse bit her lip. For a second, he thought she might shut down again. He patted his thighs lightly, drawing her attention to them, silently reminding her of his earlier promise to spank her if she did
n’t talk.
“There’s a steak knife on that table and I won’t hesitate to use it,” Elyse said.
That sealed his fate. Grant fell head over heels in love with her.
The tension of the moment lifted and Elyse continued her story.
“There was a new designer drug going around our senior year. It was all over Boston, but a couple of our classmates had taken some really bad trips, ended up in the hospital. A couple others wound up in rehab. It was a small school, so to have that many kids affected was a big deal. Seb’s father was assigned to the case, trying to determine who was bringing the drugs in.”
Grant had a very bad feeling about where this was going.
Elyse wrung her hands as she spoke. “I’ve never told anyone…” She paused, and then changed direction. “I haven’t thought about that night in a long time. At least, not until I saw Seb standing at that altar. Sometimes you just want the past to die, to go away and never come back.”
He nodded as he reached out and placed his hand over hers. “That never works.”
She smiled sadly. “I know. Seb had been tutoring me all year, but no one knew about it.”
“Why not?”
She lifted her shoulders. “I asked him not to tell. I have a learning disability. I haven’t told a lot of people about it. It sort of falls under that unacceptable weakness clause found in the Hunt children’s contract.”
He squeezed her hands. “It’s not a weakness.” The first thing Grant was going to do when he met her father was beat the shit out of him.
Her expression told him she appreciated the sentiment even if she didn’t really believe it. “Seb and I had never traveled in the same cliques. He was an honors student and he spent most of his time with the brainiacs. Meanwhile, Elliot and I were much less stellar students who chose to have a social life over study time. Seb knew about the case his dad was investigating. He also knew Elliot used drugs, and figured he might use this new one. We called it Smiles.”
The pieces started to fall into place. And suddenly Grant was feeling less confident about the success of this triad. “Is that why he agreed to tutor you, because of your brother?”
