“You don’t pay me anywhere near enough to put up with yours, Kingsley.”
“Touché,” I concede.
“Well get ready to do a lot of groveling, Kingsley, because I have just spent a lot of your money killing this story,” he says as he throws a folder on my desk.
I open it and flip through it.
“Whatever the fuck you paid, it was worth it.”
To say that I am just a little angry right now is like saying that Hurricane Harvey was a small rain shower. I am in no way ashamed of the fact that I make a lot of money. I work hard, and I make no apologies for being successful. Nothing was handed to me, regardless of what people think. The Kingsley name was synonymous with success and regarded with respect when my grandfather was at the helm of the Kingsley empire. Unfortunately, the legacy that my grandfather left behind has been systematically destroyed by my father, and I have spent the years since he has skipped town trying to rebuild the Kingsley reputation in the business world. In fact, I would say that it has been the single biggest driving force behind my success, and I like to think that I have been triumphant thus far. But people will always continue to compare me to my father. After all, no matter how hard I work to be different, and no matter how much time I spend denying how similar we really are, the facts are impossible to dispute. Like my father, I have an undeniably brilliant mind for business; I just see possibilities and take the necessary risks for success. And just like my father, I have always had a more than healthy appetite for women and had no qualms about it; I have never made any attempts to hide that fact. Unlike my father, I never made any of those women any promises, and while I never committed to anyone, I also wasn’t exactly a good guy when it came to dating women. Now that I have Raeva in my life, I wish that I had paid equally as much attention to my reputation regarding my personal life because now she’s the one suffering, and I have a hard time swallowing that fact. I recognize the text tone I assigned to Raeva, and I pull my phone from my suit jacket.
Raeva — Has your day improved some?
I smile.
Mika – It has now.
Raeva — You’re easily pleased.
Mika – By you? Absolutely.
Raeva – Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not a romantic. #swoon
That makes me laugh out loud, earning me a raised eyebrow from Hardwick.
Mika – I’ll be a bit longer. Do you want me to pick up dinner?
Raeva – Romantic and domesticated? WOW! I am a lucky lady.
Mika – Keep it up, and you’ll be my dinner instead.
Raeva – Easy there, Captain Caveman, I am not that kind of girl. I definitely expect dinner first.
Mika – Japanese or pizza?
Raeva – Either. Surprise me. Now get to work so you can hurry home to me. Xoxo
Mika – xoxo
When I look up at the amused expression on Hardwick’s face, I realize that I am sporting a ridiculously big smile. I fully expect him to mock me, but he takes me by surprise.
“She’s good for you.”
“She is.”
“You love her.”
“I do.”
Eric smiles and nods his head once.
We are interrupted by a message tone from my computer. It is not a tone I recognize, so it immediately grabs my attention. There is a pop-up on my screen. I close it and two pop back up. What the hell? I close both, and four appear. The screen completely wipes, and my computer seems to have a mind of its own now. While at first I think that I must have received a virus, the message that pops onto my screen is too personal. This isn’t a random virus.
Tsk-tsk, Kingsley. How is it so easy to penetrate your firewalls? Is your security just as weak?
“What the fuck?”
“What is it?” Eric demands.
He circles the desk and looks at the screen.
“Fuck.”
“Get Sean up here now.”
I press the intercom button.
“Ellie, I want IT up here immediately. Understood?”
“Yes, Mr. Kingsley.”
I pick up the phone and order Clark to double security for Raeva and Mik. There is no way in hell I am letting anyone put another finger on either of them.
I have the day off today, and I am planning on being productive. I am going to spend the day with River at his apartment since he has everything we need right there, and we won’t be disturbed. I would have already headed that way, but Mika hasn’t left for work yet, and I am frankly a little worried about him. When he came home last night, he was all out of sorts. He didn’t really say much about what was bothering him, but it must be some sort of business deal gone bad. He’s been on the phone constantly this morning, Eric Hardwick has just shown up, and it is barely 7:00 a.m. I leave them be in Mika’s office and busy myself with making them some breakfast. By the time I finish cooking them a full English breakfast of sausage links, fried potatoes, over-easy eggs, white beans in tomato sauce, slices of tomatoes, and toast, they have still not emerged from the office. I set the table and venture out to collect my man for breakfast. I knock on the door before entering. I’m not sure why I feel the need to do so, but I do. I enter when he calls out for me.
“Hey babe,” I say shyly. “I’ve cooked you guys some breakfast.”
“What did I tell you about feeding Hardwick?” Mika grumbles. “If you keep feeding him, he might never leave.”
I laugh.
“He’s not wrong,” Eric concedes. “If breakfast is half as good as the dinner you cooked for us the other night, then I am as good as moving in.”
Eric Hardwick has been earning his brownie points here lately!
“Oh Eric,” I say with a smile. “You flatter me. Keep it going, and I’ll gladly feed you daily,” I add with a wink.
“I’m clearly still in the room,” Mika says, somewhat disgruntled.
It probably shouldn’t feel like this, but I think it’s adorable. I make my way to him and kiss him on the cheek.
“Come on, CC, breakfast is getting cold.”
I hold out my hand, and Mika takes it.
“CC?” Eric asks, amused.
“Nope,” Mika barks.
I can’t help but burst out laughing.
“Maybe later,” I tell Eric with a wink.
We head into the kitchen and the guys jump enthusiastically into their meals. After they all but lick their plates, I make my excuses and get ready to go. When I am changed into some jeans and a cute shirt, I head back into the kitchen and prepare a basket of goodies for lunch. Of course, I make sure to include the couple dozens of the white chocolate chip cookies I baked this morning for River. When I am satisfied that I’ll be able to feed my brother a proper meal, I tell Mika that I will be visiting my brother today, but I don’t want to tell him the real reason why. Not just yet, anyway. I want to have some concrete things to tell him before I open my mouth. He makes me promise to take security, and I do. Not just to appease him, not anymore. I must admit, I feel safer knowing that I always have people protecting me. Clark and two other men are accompanying me to my brother’s apartment. I manage to convince them to wait outside, but not until Clark has checked every inch of my brother’s place. When Clark is satisfied that I will be safe here, he takes his leave after handing me the basket full of yummy. He’s not far though; he stays right by the front door. My brother’s apartment is far from shabby, but it is devoid of anything that would personalize the place. Not a single picture or piece of art. There is, however, an abundance of electronics scattered everywhere. He leads me through what looks to be living room. I say looks to be because there is just a brown leather couch with a matching recliner facing a massive flat screen on the wall. There’s nothing else, not even a throw pillow or a rug or even a coffee table. I follow him into a room twice the size of the living room. There are several desks in here with computers and other computer-type devices. River picks up a stack of magazines from a desk chair and gestures for me to take a seat. I have
to stifle my initial instinct to start cleaning and organizing this place.
“How do you even find anything in here?” I ask, looking around the disaster of a room.
It’s not dirty, but it is very messy.
River raises a brow.
“Did you want to see what I have already found for you, or do you want to discuss the state of my apartment first?”
“Hey, no offense intended,” I say, holding up my hands.
“There is a method to my madness,” he says, reciting our granny’s favorite quote to me.
It makes me smile; we always adored our granny.
“Alright, little brother, show me what you got for me.”
River takes a seat in the desk chair beside mine and tells me to direct my attention to the multiple screens before me. There are multiple documents opened, and I see several pictures of Layla.
“I have to tell you, on the surface Layla Hayes is clean as a whistle. She graduated in the top 3% of her class, completed her residency in record time, participated in many clinical trials, does a lot of charity work, and takes a lot of pro bono cases. She—”
“Okay, I don’t think you get what I am looking for.”
“Take a chill pill, sis. I am just showing you the entire picture. I don’t do anything half-assed. You know that.”
I want to hear what else he has to tell me, so I swallow my smart-ass remark and let him finish.
“Like I said,” he continues. “On the surface, she is damn near perfect. A little too perfect. So I dug a little deeper. I couldn’t find anything.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded for a moment.
“What do you mean, you can’t find anything?” I ask, confused.
“Exactly that. Layla Hayes’s history doesn’t go back further than college. There isn’t a scrap of information on Layla Hayes before that.”
“That sounds impossible. She didn’t just appear out of thin air.”
“Well, it is perfectly possible if someone creates an identity.”
“Are you trying to tell me that Layla Hayes isn’t really who she says she is?”
What in the world is going on here? Why would someone like her need to create a fake identity?
“Now I am not sure yet what her real identity is, but when I do, I am sure it’ll be the key to finding out what her deal is.”
Finding out who Layla Hayes really is isn’t going to be an easy feat.
“Maybe she had her name changed legally? Is there any way to find out?” I ask.
“It’s a possibility, sure,” River concedes. “I’ll look into it, although I was thinking more along the lines of the Witness Protection Program or something like that.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I mean, it’s done well. In fact, extremely well. So she either has access to a lot of money or an amazing hacker, or she had assistance from the government. There is virtually nothing to confirm the existence of Layla Hayes up until ten years ago when she enrolled at Harvard, but every document currently carrying her name, including her driver’s license, looks to be legit. The next step is trying to find other people connected to her past. Maybe that will shine a light on everything and give us a clue.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. “So have you been able to find anything about Mikaela and Jasper and why they went to see her and when?”
“I have not been able to find anything yet, but I am still sifting through. She does not have names attached to any files on her system. I imagine it’s for safety purposes.”
I have never been good at hiding my feelings; my facial expressions are easily read. I was hoping for a little bit more, and it must be showing clearly on my face because River steps toward me and throws his arm around my shoulder.
“I’m still working on it, sis. I’m good, but I am not a magician. I can’t magic information out of my hat. It’ll take a little time. Try to be patient, ‘kay?”
I don’t want him to think that I am ungrateful. He’s really been a huge help so far already, and I would have never been able to find out this much on my own, let alone this quickly.
“I know,” I say, forcing a smile. “I can’t thank you enough for your help.”
River grins at me.
“Hey, anything for one of my two favorite sisters,” he says with a wink.
I gasp loudly and clutch my chest, feigning insult. River just chuckles.
“Maybe I should take this basket of goodies home with me then,” I say, pretending to be insulted as I hold up the wicker picnic basket.
“Okay, okay!” River exclaims, laughing. “I take it back. You are totally my favorite sister, Rae.”
I laugh loudly.
“That’s better.”
I hold the basket out for him, and he eagerly digs through it. I’ve packed French baguettes with boiled eggs, ham, lettuce, tomato and some pesto mayo. There’s also potato salad, a couple bags of potato chips, and a couple of bottled waters. I’m glad I made three sandwiches because while I barely manage half of one, River scarfs the other two down before polishing mine off.
“Rae, you know the way to a man’s heart. If you are cooking for that Kingsley dude, it’s no wonder he wants to keep you around.”
“Ha! So for you, the woman of your dreams needs to be able to throw down in the kitchen?”
“Oh hell, my dream woman can throw down anywhere…the kitchen, the bedroom, the—”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” I say, laughing.
“So, have you met your dream woman yet?” I ask, feigning nonchalance.
River scoffs.
“Hardly. Have you looked around this place? Does it look like any woman spends any time here? I spend most of my time right here in this room.”
He doesn’t seem sad or affected at all, but my heart breaks for him. That sounds so lonely. I immediately berate myself for neglecting my little brother. How did I not know how lonely he is? How selfish can someone be? I fidget with my napkin.
“Well, I’ll be knocking your door down daily from now on,” I say, only half-joking.
“If you keep feeding me like this, then I’ll have zero complaints.”
“You gotta earn all this good eating,” I say, laughing.
“Well, let’s get to work then.”
“How about I tackle a little housecleaning and cook you some food for tonight while you work on my little project?”
“Deal.”
Before I know it, five hours have passed since I started to clean River’s apartment. Besides the office, the whole place is cleaned and organized, laundry is washed and folded, and dinner is cooking in the oven. Of course, I couldn’t go to the grocery store myself, so it was Jillybean to the rescue. One quick phone call and she was ready to drop whatever she was doing and go to the store for me, no questions asked. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. But she is also not stupid, she knows when something is up, and I had to spill the beans and tell her everything. Of course, she wouldn’t be my person if she didn’t give me her two cents, and as I expected, she offered to help. I thanked her and told her I’d let her know when I need her help. I would love her help right now, but I know she has plenty to do at the spa, so she goes back to work after I promise that she will be the first call I make when I find something. I continue with cleaning and cooking, and when I finally put up the last of the laundry, I head to River’s work domain. I step into the room, and he is busy tapping away on his keyboard. I realize quickly that I have been deluding myself. I am nowhere near over what has happened to me because the fear that grips me tightly around my throat when my eyes land on the screens displaying pictures of Sam Clayton overtakes me like a tsunami. I can feel the color drain from my face, and my throat is closed so tightly, it feels like it felt when he tried to squeeze the life out of me. My feet are as heavy as lead, and I am stuck in place, unable to avert my eyes. Somewhere in the distance, I hear someone calling my name, and it takes me long seconds to realize that the voice is coming fr
om River. I gasp, desperately trying to gulp in a breath of air.
“Raeva, breathe. I am here. It’s okay, you’re okay.”
I’m in River’s arms, and he clutches me tightly against him, stroking my head soothingly. I feel my legs give out, and my little brother—who doesn’t seem so little anymore—lowers us both to the ground. Tears begin to fall freely, and River sits there and holds me patiently. We sit here for a while before I speak.
“I’m sorry I lost it like that. Thank you for being there for me.”
River kisses me on the top of my head.
“After all the times that you’ve been there for me, it was about time you let me be there for you, sis.”
I take a deep breath, and when I exhale, I tell myself to pull it together. I force a smile.
“Tell me what you found.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I need to know to move on.”
River nods as if he’s answering a question.
“Okay.”
He stands and walks over to the printer on the desk behind us. I scramble to find my land legs, but manage after a few unsteady steps. I chuckle to myself, imagining that I must look like Bambi. River gestures for me to take a seat, and I comply easily.
“So Jasper, aka Sam Clayton, was born August 22, 1990. Interestingly, he was born as part of a set of fraternal twins. His twin sister, one Samantha Clayton, had died tragically nine and a half years ago along with their mother, Cassandra Clayton. It was a car wreck. From what I can gather from the newspaper articles I found, they were rushing to the hospital to take their mother to the emergency department after she had slit her wrists. It was storming pretty hard, and he lost control over the steering wheel. The car went off the side of a bridge.”
River takes the seat next to me.
“I gotta tell you, Rae, I can see how that dude got to be batshit crazy. He lost his mother and sister in one foul swoop, and I imagine that he had blamed himself for their demise. Their father, Jasper Clayton, had killed himself before they were born. I couldn’t find a lot of particulars about that, though.”
I shouldn’t be able to feel sympathy for this man after what he has put me through, but I can’t help but feel for him some. To lose everyone you love so young, there is no denying that that is sad.
After Tomorrow (Kingsley series Book 2) Page 10
