The Bastard

by Julie Kriss

  I squeezed her harder. “Hey, Brin.”

  “Welcome to the party,” she said against my neck. “How do you like the wedding of the year?”

  I laughed. And damn it, this was the right thing to do. What had I been thinking all those years? Letting all of the shit from my childhood get to me?

  I let her go, and she stood back. She lifted a fist and punched me on the shoulder, hard. “You’re an asshole,” she said.

  “I know.”

  She punched me again. “Really an asshole.”

  “I am, Brin. I treated you like shit. I’m really sorry.”

  And that was all it took. Tears filled her pretty eyes and she flung herself at me again, squeezing me tight. “Asshole!” she said, this time on a sob.

  I hugged her back, again, and lifted my eyes. There was a man standing in the hallway about six feet away, watching us with narrowed eyes. A big guy with dark hair whose face I’d seen in my research: Garrett Pine. He was watching over Sabrina, ready to pounce if I said the wrong thing to her.

  Our eyes met. He just glared at me harder. I got the message: Watch your step, fuckface.

  I could do that.

  I let Sabrina go again just as lightning flashed and a clap of thunder sounded behind me. I picked up the case of water and brought it in. “Is everyone okay?” I asked her.

  “For now,” Sabrina said. “A few people left to try and brave driving. The rest of us are waiting it out here. Where’s Madison?”

  That brought a slice of pain right down my ribcage. I still had the image in my mind of how I’d left her, standing in the middle of our hotel room, wearing only a towel, tears tracking down her cheeks. I was hurt and I was fucking angry, but I still hated that image. I hated it a lot. “She’s back at the hotel,” I said.

  “You should have brought her.” This was a voice from the doorway. Ronnie came into the room, Clayton Rorick right behind her. Ronnie still had her wedding hair and makeup—her hair swept into an updo, her eyes dark with mascara behind her glasses, blush on her cheekbones. It was a look that clashed with the stretched-out gray Mavericks sweatshirt and old jeans she’d obviously put on when the ceremony was cancelled. But Jesus, she still looked beautiful. Ronnie had always had that cool, classic look that was hard to look away from. And she was tough and smart as hell.

  I stepped forward and gave her a hug. She wasn’t as enthusiastic as Brin was, but she hugged me back. When I let her go she looked up at me, frowning. “You left her at the hotel? It’s safer here.”

  She was right. The house here was huge and sturdy. There was plenty of food and water, plus a handful of strong men for company. Garrett looked like he could handle trouble, and even though he was the tycoon type, so did Clayton. It would have been safer for Maddy here than sitting alone in a hotel with strangers.

  Way to be a hero, King.

  “She’ll be fine,” I said, hoping I sounded confident. “They’ll take good care of her there.”

  Ronnie’s eyes narrowed, and damn it, even though I hadn’t seen her in years, I knew she saw right through me. “We’d take good care of her here,” she said. “She may not be family, but she shouldn’t wait out the storm alone. They say this could be the worst storm in a decade. At least we have a generator here. What if she gets hurt?”

  I shook my head, and with the pain slicing through my chest, the words were out before I could think twice. “Ronnie, leave it.”

  Her expression tightened, and Clayton stepped right in. “Fuck you, King.”

  Oh, this was going well. Really, really well. Sixty seconds in the door, and Clayton was about to punch my teeth out. Then I remembered: Everyone in this room thought I was about to take over King Industries and shut out the lot of them. They thought I was walking back into their lives to send them all out of The King’s Land and onto the streets.

  And the hell of it was, I had almost done it. I’d been impulsive and full of my fucking ego, and I’d almost taken over an entire empire I didn’t want, while permanently alienating my few family members in the process. Looking at Ronnie and Sabrina now, even with the tension in the room, it hit me like the thunderstorm outside that taking over King Industries would have been a mistake—a colossal, irreversible, life-changing mistake. To move in and make myself CEO, even with good intentions, would have ruined any chance I had of winning their trust ever again.

  The only thing that had stopped me was Maddy.

  Maddy with her offer. Maddy with the bonus that was now in her bank account.

  “Listen,” I said, returning Clayton’s fuck off stare. “I’m here to help you guys however I can. But we have to talk about something first.”

  “Seems to me like there’s nothing to talk about.” This was Garrett, said in his low Texas cop’s drawl. “Seems to me everything’s already been decided by Hank’s will, hasn’t it?”

  “There’s no time to talk now,” Ronnie said. “Bea is out in the stables helping secure the horses, and the caterers are busy tearing the tents down. The dogs are locked up because they were going crazy. The cell service is going in and out—I think one of the towers has been hit. We’re just trying to keep things together until this storm passes, okay?”

  “I get that, but I think we need to clear the air.”

  She looked at me. Ronnie had always had a backbone of steel, even under the worst circumstances. It was how she’d resisted the temptation of Hank’s money for so many years while looking out for her sisters. “Dylan,” she said, “not now.”

  “Wait,” I said, just as the lights blinked out. We were in darkness.

  “Shit,” Garrett said. “The generator.”

  Outside, the rain lashed the door so hard it sounded like hail. There was a flash of lightning, illuminating us all standing there, and a deafening boom of thunder. The lights didn’t come back on.

  “Bea is in the stables,” Ronnie said.

  “She should stay there,” I said. The King’s Land stable wasn’t the rickety structure most farmers had, of course. It was sturdy and state of the art, made to protect very expensive horseflesh. “She should be safe. Where’s the generator?”

  “Out back.” I heard Clayton moving. “I’ll go look at it.”

  “You know how to fix a generator?” This was Garrett. “Come on, Clay. I’ll fix it.” There was a click, and a beam of light appeared. “Besides, I’m the only one who has a flashlight.”

  “Forget it,” I said. “I’ll go.”

  “Well, for God’s sake, someone go,” Sabrina said. “There’s way, way too much testosterone in here.”

  23

  DYLAN

  The generator was behind the stables, housed in a shed. Clayton, Garrett, and I had to bolt through the pouring rain from the back of the house, around the pool, and across the grounds, our way lit by Garrett’s flashlight and the frequent jolts of lightning.

  As soon as we approached, we could already see the problem: water was pooled at least ankle-deep around the shed.

  “Shit,” Garrett said over the loud wash of rain. “It’s flooded.”

  Clayton pulled out a key and unlocked the shed while Garrett jogged off toward the stables to find equipment. When Clayton pushed open the door, we saw the generator in half a foot of water.

  We were both soaked to the skin. We stood for a second, staring at the flooded shed, and then I said, “I guess we start bailing water.”

  I turned to find Clayton looking at me. He was the dark and handsome type, and in the moody weather he looked a little like a movie villain. I guessed Ronnie liked that type. “Listen, King,” he said, his voice low with threat. “I have no idea what the hell you’re playing at, but—”

  “Are you seriously threatening me right now? We’re a little busy here, Rorick. Though I know sitting on your ass and ordering other people around is more your thing.”

  “Unbelievable,” he said. “You’ve been gone all these years, and you think you can come back and start taking over? We’re going to have a discussion.
”

  “You want a discussion?” I faced him, pushing my soaked hair back from my face. “Let’s have a discussion about the two and a half mil you offered me to stay the fuck away. How did that work out for you?”

  “That’s over and done,” he said, his jaw tight. I saw real regret in his eyes alongside the anger. “Ronnie and I have worked that out, and it’s history. Something you would know if you’d even had a fucking email for Ronnie to reach you at. But you didn’t. You couldn’t even be bothered, because your half sisters are beneath you.”

  Now I was pissed. “That isn’t true.”

  “No? Ronnie sent you an email begging you to come back after the will was read. Did you know that? But you never got it, because it bounced.”

  “Something you must have been happy about, since you didn’t want me back anyway.”

  He took a step closer. “I was worried you’d hurt her.”

  “Me? Funny you were worried about that, since you’re the one who broke her fucking heart for five years. Nice job you’ve done looking out for her.”

  “Hey,” Garrett said, coming back with three shovels. “Since I’m the only one in this posse who actually owns a ranch, let me tell you that the ground isn’t graded the right way here. Someone did a shit job—probably a cheap contractor Hank hired to save a few bucks. So, in order to clear this generator, we have to dig.” He looked at me. “I have to be honest, Dylan. If you don’t get brained with one of these shovels, it’s going to be a miracle.”

  I took the shovel from his hand. “Oh, great. You have a problem with me?”

  “Sabrina would have loved to have a big brother,” Garrett said. “I was the one who had to defend her from the fat jokes in high school. Where were you?”

  “Jesus.” I turned and started to dig.

  “Admit it. You’ve been an asshole.” Garrett put his shovel in the ground, then turned to Clayton. “Though that two and a half million offer was a really low move.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” Clayton said, exasperated. “Do you really want to know why I offered that money? Because if Dylan stayed away, the estate went to me. And I was going to give all of it to Ronnie.”

  Garrett and I stared at him. “What did you say?” I snapped.

  “I was going to give her everything. The whole estate, the money, everything. I still am. The only thing I needed”—Clayton pointed at me—“was for you to stay the hell away until the deadline in the will passed. But you couldn’t even do that right.”

  “You’re full of shit,” I said. Because a man who would do that must really love my sister. More than anything. And the last guy I wanted to believe in was Clayton Rorick.

  “It’s the goddamned truth. No one asked for your opinion.” Clayton put his shovel in the mud. “Keep it to yourself.”

  “Watch it, Clayton,” Garrett said. The three of us dug for a few minutes, ankle-deep in mud as the rain soaked us. We started on a hole that would drain the water out of the shed. We were soaked and filthy, but we worked fast and the hole got bigger.

  “Where is Madison, anyway?” Garrett said as he grunted and dug. “You really left her in a hotel? Sabrina said you two were serious.”

  “Yeah, real heroic, Superman,” Clayton said as he worked. “There’s no way I’d leave Ronnie alone and unprotected in weather like this.”

  “No, you’d just leave her to eat or starve on her own for five years with a broken heart,” I said. “You’re a prince.”

  “He has a point,” Garrett said.

  Clayton stood up straight. “Really? I remember Sabrina getting kidnapped after you ripped her heart in half, Garrett. Because that was just a few days ago.”

  Garrett straightened and faced Clayton. “You want to take a swing at me? You want to punch the sheriff? Because I dare you to try it.”

  “Hey!” a woman’s voice shouted. We all turned to see Bea, standing and watching us. She was wearing thick jeans and rubber boots to her knees, her slender body covered by a raincoat. Her dark hair was tied back in a practical braid and she had a silver flask in her hand that looked like it was filled with something strong.

  “Bea,” I said. But I didn’t drop my shovel and hug her, like I’d done with Ronnie and Sabrina. She didn’t look like she’d welcome it. Not that she was angry—she was just closed off.

  “Dylan,” she said, with a smile that was part mischief. “Nice to see you. Are you going to get this fixed?” She gestured with the flask toward the generator.

  “I’m trying.”

  “You don’t look like you’re trying very hard.” She raised an eyebrow as she surveyed the three of us, soaking and muddy. “None of you do. Thank God I’m done with men. I don’t know what my sisters see in any of you.”

  “Thanks, Bea,” Clayton said sarcastically.

  But the three of us shut up and got to work while Bea sipped from her flask and watched. It didn’t take long before water was trickling out of the generator shed into the ditch. When the water was drained, Bea walked into the shed like a royal princess in rain boots and flipped the switch. The generator sputtered and hummed to life.

  “Okay, I guess you’re not all bad,” she said. She turned to me. “So tell me straight, Dylan. Your six months in the will are almost up. Are you taking over Dad’s estate or aren’t you?”

  I tossed down my shovel and wiped rain from my eyes. She deserved to know—they all did. “I’m not,” I told her.

  Beside me, I felt Clayton Rorick go very still.

  Bea stepped forward and tilted her face up, looking into my eyes. “Are you telling the truth? Because we’ve all been tied up in knots about this. We’ve been trying to reach you, but you don’t make it easy.”

  “I know,” I said. “The truth is I didn’t know the terms of the will until I landed in LA a few days ago and Maddy told me. That’s my fault. Hank died and I just didn’t want to fucking deal with it. All those years with him hanging over my life like a dark cloud. I just wanted to be done.”

  Bea smiled without much humor. “I know that feeling.”

  “So I haven’t been stringing you along on purpose. But you can ask Madison. I signed the papers. I’m out.” I turned and looked at Clayton, and then I said it again. “I’m out.” I raised my arms and indicated the ranch around me. “You want all of this? It’s yours. Legally, the whole deal. And you didn’t even have to pay me the two and a half million.”

  “Dylan,” Clayton said.

  The wind had picked up and started to howl. “It’s yours,” I shouted to Clayton over the sound. “Ronnie is yours, the company is yours—all of it is yours. Or hers—however you work it out. But I’m staying in the States, Rorick, and I’m not leaving. And I have some very fucking good skills. If you make a wrong move, I’ll end you. I promise you that.”

  “You know what?” Garrett Pine said. “I’ve changed my mind.” He pointed at me. “I like this guy. But we need to get to shelter. Now.”

  The stables were closer than the house, so we ducked in the heavy wind and ran there, Bea keeping up with us. We got inside the doors and I took a breath.

  “I hope they’re okay inside the house,” Bea said.

  Clayton and Garrett pushed the stable doors closed and Garrett tried to lock them. “Lock doesn’t work,” he muttered as both men leaned against the doors, trying to keep them from flying open in the wind. Two stable hands came over to help.

  I was about to help when my cell phone rang in the back pocket of my jeans. Ronnie had said the cell service was going in and out, but still it was surprising to get a call. I pulled out my phone and saw it was Maddy.

  Quickly, I answered it. “Maddy?”

  “Dylan,” she said. “Are you all right? I’m—”

  The signal went out, the line went dead, and there was nothing more.

  And then the doors flew open and the world blew apart.

  24

  MADDY

  One of the things I’ve learned, after the upbringing I had, is that there are qu
ite a few things you can accomplish with money. Sure, it can’t buy happiness, but it can buy a lot of other stuff. Like, for example, a car in the middle of the worst storm in a decade.

  Though technically I didn’t buy the car—I rented it. The hotel owner charged me three hundred dollars, which was the cash that I had in my wallet, and I promised to bring it back.

  That was how I ended up on the road to The King’s Land with the rain and the wind blasting my car. I passed two cars going the other way—people taking a chance and leaving. I pressed on, hoping that no one was hurt, that I wasn’t too late. Because I was of no use sitting in a dark hotel room. I could help someone.

  The ranch house was dark when I pulled up, which meant the power was out here, too. I ducked through the rain and pulled open the door, calling out, “Hello? It’s Madison. Is everyone okay?”

  “Madison!” Ronnie’s voice said. I heard her come closer, in the doorway, and I moved toward her in the dark. “You’re here! Dylan said you were staying back at the hotel.”

  I swallowed. “Is he here?” Is he okay?

  Ronnie took my hand and tugged me down the hallway. “He’s out back, trying to fix the generator. Clayton and Garrett went with him. Frankly, the rest of us are just hoping the three of them don’t kill each other.”

  I could see what she was worried about. Dylan and Clayton weren’t exactly a mutual fan club. I had known Clayton in a professional capacity for years, and I didn’t think he would take kindly to letting Dylan walk in and take over. Garrett didn’t seem like the soft and squishy type, either.

  Ronnie paused in the hall. Through the next doorway was the ballroom, and I could hear voices in there, people speaking softly. “We’re waiting out the storm in here,” Ronnie said. “This is the most central room in the house with the fewest windows. We figure that since the house doesn’t have a basement, this is the safest place to be.”

  “I think that makes sense,” I said, racking my brain for the best way to wait out a possible tornado. I’d never lived through one, so I didn’t know.