“Well, where we’re from,” he said slowly. “People take care of themselves.”
“We’re lucky if there’s even a nurse on campus,” his brother added dryly. “You guys got a lot of bells and whistles around here.”
I shook my head in confusion again. Having a nurse on campus was an extra amenity? I mean, Canterdale was a private school but I’d never thought of it as anything fancy. Most of us were here because the local public school was atrocious and our parents couldn’t stand to send us to a place where we’d have to go through metal detectors each morning.
“Um, I guess so?” I said softly. “I mean, I’m a scholarship student so I’m not exactly like everyone else, but I guess the school does okay.”
And it was true -- I was here through the generosity of some rich donors. My mom had always struggled as a single mom to four girls, and I was the baby, the last one to leave the nest. But our situation was changing because Mom was recently engaged to Harold Sterling of Sterling Pharmaceuticals … hopefully, financially things would be looking up in the near future.
But I was getting ahead of myself.
“So what brings you guys to Canterdale?” I asked curiously. “I mean, it’s midway through senior year. Why didn’t you guys finish at your old high school?”
“It’s a long story,” chuckled one brother. “And more complicated than we’d like it to be. But listen, we gotta get back, Chrissy’s probably chopped that cat into fifty pieces by now without us. Feel better, you hear?”
“Sure,” I said, intrigued. “But listen, there’s a party tomorrow night at her house. I’m sure Chrissy wouldn’t mind if I invited you,” I said hastily, “Everyone’s invited and we’ve been friends since childhood, she’s almost like family to me. Stop by if you have a chance. Meet some people, have some drinks, no pressure,” I said a little lamely.
“Sure,” said Blake as he sauntered out. “We’ve got nothing planned for Friday right Bryan?”
“Nope, not yet,” winked his brother. “But we do now.”
And with that, the boys were gone … and my Friday night was shaping up indeed.
CHAPTER THREE
Blake
The girl had been amazing. She was beautiful, a little shy, and sweet. Sure, she’d fainted at the sight and smell of dead animals, but who wouldn’t? That shit’s disgusting.
Of course my brother and I hadn’t batted an eye. Dead corpses and spilled blood is part of our job for better or worse. Because, you see, we’re undercover cops at Canterdale High, kind of like Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum in 21 Jump Street. Due to our youthful looks, we’ve been placed at school to ferret out an alleged drug racket.
It wasn’t altogether unexpected. It’s is a ritzy academy in a nice neighborhood, the kids with plenty of disposable income and little adult supervision. With no one around, a bunch of bored rich kids with money usually turns to crime and drugs are a common sin of choice.
So Bryan and I have been sited here. The assignment had been sudden, our sergeant calling us into his office just last week.
“Officers Hanson,” he said nodding to me, then at my brother. We’d graduated from the Academy two years ago but were no longer newbies. Walking the Tenderloin beat in San Francisco is an all-night racket, something that will transform the greenest rookie into a hardened cop overnight, the poverty, disease, domestic abuse and general crime overwhelming. Just last week, a woman had been arrested for tossing her newborn baby girl out the window in a rage. Can you believe that? A baby thrown like garbage from the eighth floor. Needless to say, the little girl didn’t survive.
So Canterdale wasn’t going to be cakewalk, sure, but there wouldn’t be the atrocities we witnessed in a crime-ridden neighborhood … we hoped.
“Hanson,” barked my sergeant. “We’re doing a sting in St. Francis Wood, you know that neighborhood just south of Tyleret?”
My brother and I nodded. St. Francis Wood was a hoity-toity place where Jags and Mercedes were stolen, not exactly a source of violent crime. But our sergeant lowered his voice.
“There’ve been two overdoses in the last month,” he said. “Two kids at the local high school. It’s been kept hush-hush because people are so protective of their property prices that they don’t want anything to sully their image. But evidently there’s a lot of drug use going on and the kids are getting it somewhere,” he continued. “The parents want us to bust the ring.”
Okay, well maybe if the parents were around more there would be less drug use. But it wasn’t my place to say. “Sarge,” I drawled gamely, “what do we know so far?”
“Unfortunately not a lot at this point,” he replied. “Victim one was Brian Adams, on the football team, seventeen, early admission to Harvard. Comes from a so-called nice family except his parents are never around, always raising money for some charity or other,” the Sarge snorted. “Victim two was Tyler Needham, also on the football team, recruited to play football at Cal although he obviously won’t be there this fall.”
I digested this information. “So do Bryan and I need to try out for the football team to get the down low on these suckers?” I asked. My brother and I were athletic and agile, plus we’d played football before. Street ball for sure, but it was enough for some high school rinky-dink sports program.
“Nah, the season’s over, but you’ve got to get in with the right crew of kids. This isn’t the stoner crowd, Brian and Tyler were athletes, kids with good grades from nice families. Somehow they got their hands on cocaine and heroin, not just the usual soft stuff. Hey, if they’ve got the money to pay for it, there’s not much stopping them,” said the sergeant dryly.
And I could see his point. Bryan, the Sarge and I are working class, our parents are schoolteachers, firefighters, people who are comfortable but hardly living the high life. It was only too ironic that kids who’d been given everything on a silver plate were shooting themselves in the foot … or in the arm in this case.
So my twin and I had packed up our stuff, moving into a trailer on the edges of St. Francis Wood. I guess SFPD could have found a “foster family” for us or other some bullshit, but it was just easier to paint a story as two twin boys who’d moved to town because of a troubled past. Our “uncle” would be the Sergeant, although he didn’t live with us.
And now our first lead had appeared … and Callie had given it to us inadvertently. The party promised to be fruitful, a bunch of rich kids on a Friday night, loosening up, letting it all hang out. As we prepped, Bryan and I talked it over.
“I’ll take Callie, you take Chrissy, see where it leads us,” I’d suggested nonchalantly.
No such luck. “Yeah, whatever,” grinned my twin. “No way I’m passing up the brunette.”
And it was to be expected -- both of us had liked the curvy girl on sight. Okay, more than liked, more like very, very intrigued. Callie was exactly up our alley with curly brown hair, big brown eyes and a figure shaped like a sensuous S. Big boobs, a tiny waist and luscious, swinging hips. I’d never developed a taste for skinny anorexics, and neither had my brother.
“Fine,” I said gamely. “We’ll play it by ear, see what develops. No sense in tying ourselves to some rigid plan.”
“You got it, brother,” drawled Bryan. He’s always been easygoing, it’s part of his charm, girls love that laid-back vibe and handsome mug. But I knew that as soon as we saw Callie, we’d both be on her like white on rice … agreement or not.
CHAPTER FOUR
Callie
The music was pounding, people standing by the pool with drinks in their hands.
“Where you’d get the beer?” I asked Chrissy.
“Oh my sister, she picked up some stuff at the local bodega,” she replied distractedly, looking around. Of course the local bodega in St. Francis Wood was a high-end liquor shop, but Chrissy’s family could afford it.
“Is Valerie actually here?” I asked curiously, also peering into the mass of writhing bodies. Chrissy’s older sister was notorious – rumor had it she’d g
otten pregnant by some older guy a couple years back, causing her to drop out of high school. But St. Francis Wood was full of rumors … and I’d never had a glimpse of the so-called baby although I’d visited the Gordons many times.
But my friend had other things on her mind. “You did invite them, didn’t you?” she asked, frowning. “Did you remind them?”
I sighed. The them in the sentence was all too obvious. “Of course I did, Blake texted me for the address to your place just this morning,” I confirmed.
“Oooh, you got his number?” she squealed. “Cool, give it to me, I want to make sure they’re coming.”
“Umm, let’s just wait a bit, okay?” I hedged. I didn’t want to seem too desperate, nor did I want to be giving out phone numbers like candy. “Let’s hang tight and see if they show in the next fifteen.”
“God I hope so,” said Chrissy, blowing air impatiently. “I got my hair and make-up professionally done, those twins better appreciate it!” she said emphatically.
And my friend did look good. Her blonde hair was in loose, silky waves, like a Victoria’s Secret model, and her make-up was flawless with ruby red lips and dramatic violet eye shadow. I, on the other hand, was a mouse by comparison. There was no professional help for me but I’d brushed my hair as best I could, the ringlets glossy and defined, and applied some blush and eyeliner to highlight my features. I was round, compared to Chrissy’s thin figure, but there was nothing to be done about that.
“Oooh, there they are!” she squealed, spying Blake and Bryan. “Come on, let’s go!” she said, grabbing my hand and dragging me over.
I tripped over myself as I followed in high heels. This was a pool party, but Chrissy had been adamant about looking sexy.
“Wear your swimsuit underneath, you never know what’ll happen,” she’d said with a knowing wink.
“Okay, but why the stilettos?” I said. At least the swimsuit would be under my clothes, that wasn’t a huge deal. “Wouldn’t flip-flips be more appropriate?”
“No!” my friend squealed. “Stilettos are sexy, they make your legs look longer. Come on Callie, live a little, we’re almost done with school!”
I’d only sighed. It was true, we were just waiting to hear from colleges now, our grades practically didn’t matter anymore. I could afford to relax a little, play it by ear.
So I teetered awkwardly over to where the boys stood by the gated entrance, their figures lean and athletic, dressed in jeans and button-down shirts. They were casually handsome in flip-flops, black hair swept to the side.
“Hey there strangers!” squealed Chrissy. “Glad you could make it.”
Blake and Bryan nodded, slight smiles on their lips. “Thanks for the invite,” drawled Blake, “we appreciate you extending a friendly hand to us new folks at school.”
“No problem,” said Chrissy. “Come on in, can I get you a drink? I make a mean piña colada,” she said with a wink.
“Um,” said Blake, “You got something harder? We’re not really tropical drink guys.”
“Oh,” said my friend, flushing pinkly. “Of course not, you guys are too “guy” for that. How stupid of me. What about Jagermeister shots? Does that sound good?”
“Yeah, that’s more up our alley,” confirmed Bryan, nodding. “Thanks a bunch,” he said as my friend ran to the drinks table, practically falling over in her effort to impress our new classmates.
In the meantime, I was left alone with the twins although there were already a couple girls circling about, eyeing the hard bodies with hungry looks, ready to get their game on. Oh god, the pressure was on and I was so bad at this.
“Umm, how did that cat dissection go?” I asked lamely. I could have kicked myself. Time alone with the hottest new guys in school and I was asking about biology class on a Friday night? Shoot me now.
But the men looked at me gamely.
“It didn’t happen. Grimes said we could make it up on a weekend, come in on a Saturday and give it another shot. He’s ordered some new cats, hopefully ones that aren’t stale this time. Care to join us?” asked Blake with an amused grin.
I was already feeling faint again, although from the dead animals or the proximity of these men, I wasn’t sure.
“I think I’ll pa-” I was about to say “pass” but Chrissy sprang up again.
“Of course we’ll come and make up the lab with you,” she gushed, shoving drinks into the men’s hands. “Just let us know which Saturday and we’ll make time, won’t we Callie?”
I blushed red for my friend and for myself. This was really getting out of hand and I couldn’t believe that I was witness to so much overblown emotion. But I merely muttered an indistinct reply, my head down and my cheeks flaming.
“Hey,” said Blake smoothly. “Got some ice around here? Not crushed,” he said to Chrissy, nodding at the cooler, “but maybe some of the real stuff from the fridge. Callie, why don’t you show me inside? Bryan will hold the fort down here,” he said, nodding at his brother.
I could have sworn that Bryan shot an evil look at his twin, but maybe I was just imagining things because his expression cleared immediately, his face suddenly smooth.
“Yeah sure, no prob bro,” he said casually, draping an arm about Chrissy’s shoulders. “We’ll be here … be sure to bring me some ice too.”
And my friend was practically drooling already, so elated at the feel of the man’s big arm on her body. “Take your time!” she squealed. “Callie, you know where the ice chest is.”
I did, I’d been here so many times that her home was like a second home to me … probably more than it should have been. But I turned to Blake and beckoned for him to follow.
“Come on,” I said with a smile. “Let’s get out of this heat, I feel like everyone is looking at us.”
He chuckled. “Everyone’s looking at you sure, but no one’s looking at me, pretty girl.”
And I flushed. Most people don’t think I’m attractive. I’m tolerable, yes, even pleasant-looking. But pretty? Not really, unless you liked them round and curvy.
But I found myself adding an extra wiggle to my walk as we made our ways indoors, past the crowd and into the relatively deserted kitchen.
“I know it’s here,” I muttered, opening the freezer door, fumbling around. “Chrissy’s dad is really into top shelf spirits, he has this special ice cube thing that makes big, perfectly square cubes,” I said, digging around in the freezer depths. The ice tray was cool, and the resultant cubes amazing if you could get them out of the mold in one shape.
But when I turned triumphantly, Blake wasn’t paying attention … at least not to the ice. His eyes flitted ever so quickly away, and then back guiltily. He’d been checking out my ass! My rump had been in the air when I bent over and the alpha male had been helping himself to a big visual serving of my pert behind!
I smiled then. Okay, so the twins weren’t as laidback as they seemed. I could feel myself loosening up, warming up under the flattering attention.
“Come on,” I said, taking the drink from his hand and flipping my hair over my shoulder flirtatiously. “I’ll show you upstairs … Chrissy’s family has an amazing game room.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Blake
I’d gotten rid of my brother with a fast move, I admit. Hey, sometimes you gotta strike before someone else moves first, and I wasn’t above one-upping my closest kin. I admit it was slick after our agreement this afternoon, but each man for himself my friend.
Besides our relationship runs deeper than that. Not only did we share a womb, but we’re close. Maybe too close. On the outside, everything was as American as apple pie growing up. My twin and I grew up in a working class neighborhood in Queens, New York, playing stick ball, eating hot dogs with beans. We didn’t have much, but no one in our neighborhood did so none of us kids knew any better. Sure, there were tales of phenomenally wealthy people in Manhattan, but that could have been a galaxy away for all the difference it made.
So we’d chosen
to enroll in the police academy after high school because there wasn’t enough money to go to college for the both of us. Besides, the band of blue was in our blood, just like my dad and a couple of our uncles. Our first assignment was in the Bronx, a fucking nightmare … but also a dream come true.
Because you see, that’s where Bryan and I discovered our predilection for gay sex … with each other. It’s twincest, straight up, his dick in my ass, my dick in his, enjoying each other’s bodies. It sounds twisted and wrong, but it worked for us that first time and it’s worked for us ever since.
It happened because of the job, to tell the truth. Our first beat was a stretch along the Grand Concourse in the Bronx, a seedy strip where the county jail was located as well as a bunch of flophouses with accompanying methadone clinics. I guess it was convenient – junkies could get high illegally and then come down just as legally, all within minutes.
But Bryan and I had been placed undercover to investigate a Russian bath house. Rumor was that a Ukrainian gang was dealing inside the all-male establishment, not just in drugs but whores as well. There were allegedly women chained in the basement, serving bathhouse customers, forced to engage in the most heinous, obscene sex acts. And the only customers admitted were those who could be vetted, preferably by an insider.
So Bryan and I had a contact provided by the force – a seedy CI named Vladimir with a serious drug problem.
“Come on in!” chortled Vlad, meeting us at the door. Uncharacteristically, Vlad was paunchy and fat, unlike the rundown heroin users we usually encountered. “Come in, come in!” he said in a heavily-accented voice. “Meet my friends. Vodka to start you off?”
Bryan and I accepted the tiny shot glasses and then made our way past the front office which was nothing more than a bored-looking girl with bad skin sitting at a desk. She looked at Vlad, nodded to us, then languidly opened an appointment book and jotted something down by hand. Clearly, there were no electronic records in this place.
Anonymous Encounters (The Billionaires Club Book 5) Page 15
