Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother Novel Book 4)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  “They aren’t back yet?”

  “No, but Harlow texted to say they were on their way back. What happened last night?” Uncle Maverick asks.

  I glance at Clayton, who looks panicked. I don’t blame him. Maverick is a scary dude. He makes it a point to intimidate people. My uncle Malik, however, many underestimate, because he’s quiet.

  “I’ll go order our breakfast.”

  Chicken!

  “Didn’t Charlotte or Hope fill you in?” I ask, noting that Charlotte is passed out, her head resting on her arm on the table.

  “No.”

  “Well, um, there were two cops and you know how Dad is. One thing led to another. I tried to stop it, I swear,” I tell him.

  “And they didn’t arrest you?” Landon asks, seeing right through my lie.

  My grin stretches across my face as I take a seat at Uncle Maverick’s table. “Nope, we left.”

  “You left?” Liam asks, leaning between Maverick and Teagan, laughing.

  I shrug, sticking my tongue out at Sunday, who is sitting in a highchair. “Dad would have done the same. It’s like I said, I did all I could.”

  “I feel sick,” Faith moans, looking worse for wear as she falls against Beau, who doesn’t seem much better.

  The door opens, the wind causing it to smack against the wall. Mum and Harlow storm inside.

  “Ut oh,” I mumble, ducking my head.

  Dad, Mark, Malik and Maddox dawdle behind at a slower pace, all looking like they’ve been through the wars.

  Mum sits down at the empty table beside me, puffing out a breath. “I cannot believe your father.”

  “What did he do, other than the obvious?” Landon asks.

  “Apart from manage to run up a food bill at a police station?” she growls, shaking her head. “He wound up a group of other guys being processed, and all hell broke loose. It seemed the ones who got hurt weren’t happy, and as we were leaving, your dad pulled one of his stunts and had them all arrested again after he caused another brawl.”

  “Did he?” Maverick bites out, glaring at Dad, who is still making his way over.

  “Apparently it gets boring on desk duty, so he had them playing hot potato and watching YouTube videos while they tried to find a single room for him. Everyone they put him in a room with ended up losing it.”

  “You okay, son?” Maverick asks Mark when he plops down in the chair over by Mum.

  Mark lifts his head, his bloodshot eyes landing on his dad. “Yeah. I don’t know how or why we were arrested. Everything is still a blur. They put me in a cell on my own, so I passed out almost immediately.”

  “Tell him the rest,” Dad orders, grinning as he takes the seat to the right of me.

  Mark glares over at Dad. “Fuck off.”

  “What happened?” Aunt Teagan asks, biting her lip.

  Dad laughs as he steals Maverick’s coffee, taking a sip. “He woke up naked, and it wasn’t exactly a warm floor we were on, if you know what I mean. Bright spark there stripped off his clothes and woke up to a female officer.”

  “Was she hot?” Liam asks.

  “She was old,” Mark snaps, placing his head on the table when everyone begins to laugh at his discomfort.

  Clayton places the plates on the table before pulling out the chair next to me, taking a seat.

  The smell of the full English has my stomach rumbling, so I waste no time in picking my fork up.

  Dad pulls my plate away before my fork can reach the sausage, blocking the meal with his arm. He digs in, stabbing his fork into the sausage I was eyeing.

  “Dad!”

  “You owe me. Don’t think I forgot that you left your own father to be taken away. After everything I’ve done for you. I let you shit in my favourite hat.”

  “I was three months old,” I snap. “I can’t believe you’re going to let your only daughter starve.”

  “Why do you smell weird?” he asks, sniffing my hair.

  I swat him away. “It’s called being fresh, unlike you, who smells like a brewery.”

  “Have mine. I’ll go get another,” Clayton rushes out, pushing back his chair.

  Dad sniffs the air, tilting his head up. “Did someone speak?”

  “Max,” Mum chides.

  I snort. “Dad, stop acting like you wouldn’t have done the same. I only did what you taught me to do.”

  “She has you there,” Mum scolds. “You’re old enough to know better.”

  “Why are you all blaming me? Malik was the reason we got arrested this time. I’m innocent.”

  “You were the cause of it, dickhead,” Malik grits out.

  “And,” Dad drawls out, turning to me, “I would have had the genius idea to record it. Not so smart now, are you, short stuff.”

  I smirk after swallowing a piece of bacon. “Ah, but I am a genius. Hope got the whole thing.”

  Chairs scrape across the tiled floor as they get up to see the footage Hope has saved on her phone.

  “Guys, me and Faith cancelled today. We’ve rearranged it for tomorrow. No one is in any fit state to get behind a wheel today.”

  Everyone sighs with relief, clearly not looking forward to being tossed around on a Go-Kart.

  Since Dad is occupied eating and talking to Mum, I lean in to Clayton, whispering, “Want to try hot tub sex?”

  He grins against his mug. “After we try kitchen counter sex. I saw some chocolate I’d love to try,” he tells me, his eyes heating.

  My pulse spikes at the promise, and I squeeze my thighs together. “It would be a shame for it to go to waste.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Dad snaps.

  “Nothing,” Clayton and I squeak.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  It’s our last night here, and it’s bittersweet. I don’t want our time here to end, or to go back to a reality where I don’t get to sleep next to him every night.

  I’ve only slept over at two guys’ houses before, and both were more out of convenience than actually wanting to be there. And with both, it was a struggle to fall and stay asleep.

  With Clayton, neither were a problem—not that we did much sleeping.

  Tonight, however, has felt… different. Our large group had split up to have a chilled night, and although others had made plans, Clayton and I decided to stay in by ourselves. He surprised me by cooking us dinner, and even more so when he didn’t make a move to rip my clothes off. Instead, we sat and talked about anything and everything.

  It felt like a line had been crossed, and the simple ‘no strings’ had gone out the window. And although I’m more than open to having a relationship with him, I won’t beg. I won’t force or manipulate him into having one, like so many in my situation do. Though it’s hard to keep myself firmly on my side of the line, I respect his choice, even if it is a stupid one.

  It isn’t just his behaviour that’s changed, but the intimacy too. Earlier, I had been washing up, when Clayton stepped up behind me, pulling my back against his chest as he nibbled on my neck. I felt closer to him in that moment than I did when we had sex. Which is why his actions are confusing me.

  Now I’m in bed, wearing my Ninja Turtles pyjamas, making notes on my report—or trying to, at least.

  After a night of amazing sex, I woke up exhausted yet inspired. An idea occurred to me, and yet I’m torn on which direction I want to go with the article. It could go one or both ways. I want to write an article revealing the truth of what happened, but I also want to write the entire story, so the public gets more of a grasp on what happened, from the very first sighting of the gang. When people read it, I want them to truly feel what each victim has gone through, from the first to the last. And there will be a last.

  I’ll make sure of it.

  I only need one of them to talk, and if a cop is involved, and it’s he who falls into my trap, he’s going to sing like a canary. There is no way he won’t plead for a deal in exchange for giving up the others in the gang.

  All crimi
nals do. Because what sets them apart from everyone else is that they’re out for themselves.

  When I get home, I want to get some quotes from victims, get their side before I continue writing it. When people read it, I don’t want them doubting my evidence, which is what most people do now because of the ‘fake news’ constantly being published.

  I mean, how do they expect people to take the truth seriously if they continue to publish fake articles?

  The door creaks, alerting me to Clayton’s presence. I quickly change the screen to the Love Loop Live website before smiling up at Clayton.

  “You made me hot chocolate,” I gush, taking the steaming mug from him. “Marshmallows!”

  “I ran over to Dean and Lola’s to stock up. I knew how much you wanted one.”

  I did. The machine at the café was broken this morning and I was gutted. I need the substance to wake me up. “Thank you.”

  “You working?” he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed next to me, staring at the screen.

  My attention drifts to the foamy marshmallows, so he doesn’t see the lie. “I like to read posts, answer some if I can. It gives me more time when I come in to go over our segment.”

  My mind drifts to Beau. I had hoped to speak to him before now, but he’s always been busy, or my interfering, lovable dad was watching me. He might come across dumb to some people, but for those who know him, we’re well advised on his intelligence. He would know something was up the minute I pulled Beau aside.

  “You okay? You seemed to have spaced out.”

  I place my mug on the side before facing him. “Yeah, but I, um, need to pop out a minute. I just remembered there’s something I need to talk to Beau about.”

  “Give me a minute and I’ll come with you,” he offers, getting off the bed.

  I jump out, unable to look at him. “That’s okay. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay,” he drawls, sitting back on the bed and leaning against the pillows. “Before you run off, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  I stop reaching for my trainers and sit on the end of the bed, giving him my attention.

  “If it’s about the jelly in the fridge, I didn’t know you were saving it,” I tell him, biting my lip.

  “What? Wait, that was you? I thought your dad ate it yesterday when he came to see how you were, even though it was obvious he only came to do a room check.”

  “I did warn you that would happen,” I remind him. He didn’t believe me when I told him he couldn’t leave his clothes in my room because my dad would do a surprise visit at some point. He only has himself to blame. “But by your reaction, that wasn’t what you wanted to talk to me about.”

  “No, it isn’t. I’ve got another few days before they need me back in the office. I was wondering, if you didn’t have any other plans, if you’d accompany me to the Butterfly Village.”

  “Isn’t that one of the places on the list we were given by Date Night?” I ask, forcing myself not to frown. I don’t know why I held hope that he was asking me out. Of course it’s for work.

  “It is, but there’s a Comic Con the day after that I thought you’d like. The itinerary that Date Night has in place isn’t something we need to do. But we do need it to finish this segment.”

  It takes me a moment to realise he’s serious. I squeal, jumping across the bed and landing on top of him. He falls back, laughing.

  “Are you for real?”

  “I’m taking that as a yes, you do want to go.”

  “Dude, I’ve not been to one since I was thirteen years old and my dad got us kicked out for taking the virtual game seriously.”

  His smile is wide as he pushes my hair away from my face. “Well, I made some calls and got us two tickets.”

  I can’t believe he’s done this. It’s the sweetest thing ever. I hadn’t even known he paid attention to me. Most of the time he looks like he wants to strangle me. But when I was rambling at work a few weeks ago about how unfair it was that I couldn’t get tickets, he was paying attention.

  “Wait, isn’t that the day after Valentine’s Day?”

  “Yes, is that okay?”

  “You’re the one with issues, not me,” I tell him, shrugging. “And it’s not like I have anything better planned.”

  “Thanks,” he mutters dryly.

  I’m still grinning like a fool, excited about going. “I do need to type up the online piece the night before, so it does work out perfectly.”

  “I sent Chrissy my notes about Mingles. She emailed Date Night to cancel that review and recommended Barbra’s instead.”

  “That’s actually a pretty good idea. I’ve written up my thoughts on the dating site, but since Reid tripped the system, it’s not really an accurate review.”

  “It’s mostly on the destinations anyway. Chrissy has handled the review on the site itself as she’s the one inputting all your information and using the app. We had hoped to visit more destinations before Valentine’s Day, but I guess with short notice, they can’t complain.”

  “I think it helps that I’ve been to some of the places on the list, so I can give my honest opinion on them. I also conducted another list of places that I personally recommend and gave them to Leana, ready to post out on Valentine’s Day.”

  “Their ad is up on our website, and we’ve had a lot of interaction from people asking for cheaper or closer alternatives. It got me thinking about people already in a relationship. I wanted to see how you felt about running a segment on how to keep the spark alive, maybe recommend places they can go for one on one time.”

  I can’t help but gape in astonishment. “I’m flattered you would even run it by me, so don’t get pissed when I say this—respectfully, of course—but you really haven’t had a relationship if you think advising couples to go on holiday will spice up their love life. If they’re already having problems, it’s going to end them. Moving homes, weddings, christenings or a new-born all test the best of relationships. But holidays bring on a whole new level of stress. It’s been known to break couples who think time away will do them good. Their routine is out the window, so all they are left with is each other. It will drive one to commit murder.”

  “Surely not,” he argues.

  I shrug, running my hand over his chest. “Not everyone, but most couples. My mum nearly killed my dad when he left the passports at home. He had one job, and he failed. My mum was stressed, worrying that she hadn’t packed everything we needed.”

  His nose scrunches up. “You can’t really use your dad as an example. Your mum is a saint.”

  I sigh because he’s right. My mum wants to kill him on a daily basis. She just loves him more. “You’re right. Maybe you could recommend holidays to those new to a relationship and research ways to help improve those with issues in their relationship.”

  “So, you’re okay with that?”

  “Why are you asking? You haven’t cared enough to ask before. In fact, you’ve pretty much demanded everything from me,” I remind him, not liking the sinking feeling in my gut. “You said you didn’t want other people treating me differently, but here you are, doing just that.”

  He runs a hand through his hair, grimacing. “I’m not going to lie, after putting a stop to your story, I felt bad.”

  I inwardly flinch at the deceit, glancing away. “But…”

  “But, despite what you may think, I’m not always a prick. That night I first met you was the anniversary of my mother’s death. My dad was refusing any further treatment and Leana had just spilled coffee down my shirt and fallen head first in my lap. Then I walked in and was immediately drawn to your arse. When I found out you were Hayden, Dad’s words about not dating staff hit me, and I got angry.”

  I force myself not to snort at the memory of what Leana had done. His reaction makes more sense now that I’ve gotten to know him.

  “Oh,” I mumble.

  “Yes, oh.”

  “In my defence, I didn’t know that.”

 
“I know, and it’s not really an excuse. And it certainly doesn’t mean I won’t be a dickhead in the future.”

  “Noted,” I reply, chuckling. “I really want to kiss you right now, but I really do need to go see Beau.”

  He smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. “Hurry back.”

  I roll my eyes, pulling myself up. “You’re insatiable.”

  *** *** ***

  After rapping my knuckles on the door to Faith and Beau’s cabin, I take a step back, rubbing my hands together and blowing between them.

  Faith answers the door, smiling when she spots me. “Hey, Hayden, have you come to watch a movie with us?”

  When she pulls the door open a little wider, I notice Mum, my aunts, and half of my cousins. I don’t know of a way I can ask for Beau without raising suspicion.

  Unless…

  “Is Beau around?” I whisper, ducking my head.

  She closes the door a little after stepping outside. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good, but Clayton isn’t. He doesn’t want me to, um, talk about it with any of my relatives. You know how men are. I would talk to Jaxon about it, but he’d piss me off in two seconds.”

  “Oh no, what’s happened?”

  I point to my crotch. “He’s, um, experiencing something down there and doesn’t feel comfortable asking Beau or Jaxon himself.”

  “Ah, I understand.” She winces, her expression scrunching up in pity. “Beau is on the back deck with Dad.”

  “Thank you. I’ll head round. Tell the others I was asking what time we were leaving and that I’ll see them in the morning.”

  “Okay, I hope Clayton feels better soon.”

  I nod, giving her a short wave as I make my way around the side of the cabin, to the back.

  Maverick and Beau are chatting about the boxing when I reach the bottom of the deck steps.

  Uncle Maverick is the first to spot me. “Hey, short stuff, you looking for your mum? She’s inside.”

  I wave him off as I make my way up the steps. “No, I’m actually here to see Beau. I need to talk to him privately.”

  I don’t like the scrutinizing gaze he’s sending my way. “Why?” I cross my fingers behind my back, my lips parting as I inhale, ready to answer. “And before you think you can fool me, I know that look. It’s the same look your father gets before he makes up some wild bullshit story or tries to con his way out of shit.”