by Aven Jayce
“Mark,” Cove whispers. “Bring him back.”
I’m unsure if that means he needs to hold him again, or if he wants me to breathe the life back into him. I don’t think I can do either.
His lifeless eyes stare into mine. Get up, kid. Laugh, cry, crap in my pool if you want, just...
A blink.
He blinked.
“Cove!” I set him on the concrete and check his neck, feeling a strong pulse. “Thank fuck, you little shit, you’re alive! Cove! Get over here!”
“What? Daxton!” Cove rushes over. “Dax, talk to me. Are you okay? Dax!”
He pulls him up by his shoulders and witnesses his son’s eyes blinking while his face grimaces from the light.
“Oh thank fuck.”
An exuberant smile and tearful laughter encompasses my brother-in-law as he hugs his son.
“Dax?” His hands frame his son’s face, wiping the hair from the boy’s eyes. “Talk to me.”
“Let me cut him free,” I whisper, his frozen fingers and arms flopping down upon release.
“I think the twine cut off his circulation, his hands are purple. And who knows how long she’s had him outside. Damn, he’s cold. Let’s get him inside.”
Cove carries him upstairs as I lock my truck and make a quick observation of the area. The sun’s coming up which means a team of cops will be back on the scene. We’ve got a lot of work to do.
Lowering the garage door, I run up the stairs and let Cove and Dax into my living room.
“Put him on the sofa,” I say, taking a fleece blanket from my hall closet. “Here, try to get his extremities warmed while I call Soph.”
“Thanks.” He covers his son and blows warm air onto his fingers. “What happened? Are you hurt?” Cove asks. “Please talk to me, I want to hear your voice.”
My sister picks up her cell as I’m preparing to light a fire. “Mark?”
“We found him. We’re in my suite. He’s—” The call ends before I even have a chance to let her know he’s okay.
“She’s on her way,” I say, placing kindling under the logs in the fireplace. “I’ll get a bowl of warm water for his hands and feet after I get this lit.”
“Why isn’t he talking?”
“I’m sure he’s in shock. Give him a few minutes.”
“Something’s wrong,” Cove says worriedly. “Dax, look at me.”
His son stares straight ahead, in his own little world, expressionless, with no movement accept for blinking eyelids and shallow breathing.
I hurry to the kitchen after getting the fire started, filling a large serving bowl with warm water and carrying it over to the fireplace. “Bring him here. Set him by the fire and get his sneakers off so we can warm his feet.” I push a chair in front of the burning logs and Cove carries his son closer.
“Let me in!” My sister pounds on the door.
She rushes past me the moment it’s opened with a sleepy-eyed Xavier by her side and Julia close behind.
“Oh, my god!” she cries, giving him a hug. Xavier’s eyes widen when he sees his brother and he quickly joins the embrace.
“You snot brain. You have to show me your hideout. I looked everywhere and couldn’t find you! Fuck, you win this time! That was a good one, Dax, but you made Mom and Dad angry.”
“We’re not angry, not at all,” my sister says. “I’m so happy you’re safe... oh, you’re cold, sweetheart.” She kisses his cheek multiple times and rocks him in her arms.
“Yuck, mom,” Xavier says. “Hey Dax, did you find your copter?”
Still nothing from my nephew, he’s mute.
“What’s wrong with him?” my sister whispers. “Where was he?”
Cove turns to me and I bite my lip. Fuck if I’m gonna say her son was tied, smothered, and left in a box.
“He was in front of Mark’s garage when we returned,” Cove says, leaving out the details. “I think he’s cold and scared.”
“Were you lost?” she asks in a gentle tone. “It’s okay. You’re safe now and back with us.”
Cove eases him into the chair and unties his sneakers as Sophia feels his body, looking for injuries.
“You’re just cold, right baby? You okay?” she whispers. “He’s okay.” She turns to Cove. “Right? He’s okay?”
Cove nods and places his son’s feet into the bowl of water.
“Are the cops here?” I mumble into Jules’ ear.
“What the fuck happened to you?” she asks.
“Answer my question.”
“Two so far. They arrived about thirty minutes ago. Their captain was livid that they all left in the middle of the night. A few of them were supposed to stay on the scene until morning. Mark, what the fuck happened to your face?”
“Dog fight,” I sigh, turning to Cove. “What are we going to do about the cops? I can’t talk to them until I clean up and Dax needs to be able to function when they’re around. If they see him like this, he’ll be hospitalized.”
“You don’t need to talk to them, we will. And what’s wrong with taking him to the hospital? He may have frostbite,” Sophia says. “He was lost in the woods and should be examined.” She continues to feel his arms and legs, looking for any reaction that he may be in pain, all while commenting on my face. “I take it there was a fight and Mark lost?”
I ignore her observation. The fight was good for our relationship; a healthy pummeling between two men to let off some steam. It’s a guy thing that women don’t understand.
“I love you so much,” Sophia says.
Daxton stands and pushes the blanket off his shoulders, making eye contact with his mother and father. Thank fuck, he’s coming around.
“You lose your Cardinals cap?” Xavier asks.
He nods while unzipping his hoodie.
“Oh, leave it on until you warm up,” my sister requests. “I hope you don’t get sick from being out all night in the cold. You must be exhausted. We need to get you a filling breakfast then into a warm bed for the rest of the morning.”
He drops the hoodie to the floor and takes off his shirt.
“Fuckin’ A.” Cove runs his hand through his hair. “Dax, what are you doing?”
“No, this is good,” Sophia says energetically, reassuring everyone that her son is fine while she disregards everyone’s foul language. “He’s showing us that he’s okay. Look, no marks, scratches, broken bones. He’s perfect. Everything’s superb, my son is home.”
I disagree in silence. Her words are calming only to herself. Something’s certainly wrong with this kid. Cove and I have sensed it since we first set eyes on him. Then, feeling the warmth of Julia’s hand and a firm squeeze... I know that she can tell too... we all know... all except my sister who’s easily fooled. At this moment, she seems happy just to have him home and alive.
Daxton looks up, scanning the room, until his eyes rest on mine. He squints—his dark brown eyes nearly disappearing under his eyelids.
“I have a message for you,” he says in a slow, icy voice. The words ricochet throughout my suite like a bomb just went off and a pile of rubble landed at my feet. He’s speaking directly at me.
“What?” Sophia questions, ignorant to the fact that he’s referring to Mera Calloway. If that bitch polluted his mind with anything about the porn industry...
Daxton turns around and Sophia gasps. No, it’s worse. It’s a message placed where my nephew can’t read it, which means Mera likely didn’t say a word to him about our past. But he can feel it. He knows it’s there, that’s for damn sure.
“Son of a bitch!” Cove explodes, kicking over a side table in a fit of rage. Xavier steps back by his father’s reaction and covers his eyes, but Daxton... he stands motionless with his head bowed and his back exposed.
“I have a message,” he says again.
She cut him. The fuckwench scrawled a note into his flesh.
Murderer
“Oh fuck, fuck!” Cove�
��s hand flies through his wavy dark hair. He drops down next to his son and takes his hand. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”
My sister’s speechless, standing with her hand over her mouth.
And Julia’s expression turns venomous—a look I haven’t seen until now. She heads to my bedroom saying, “barbarous bitch,” along the way. I let her be, needing to deal with my family first.
“Okay, listen. We’ve got to—”
“No. We don’t have to do anything, Mark.” Cove examines the cuts then helps his son back into his shirt while Sophia remains a statue. He kneels directly in front of Dax and offers a comforting smile, trying to keep his cool for a child who’s just been through hell. And I can’t believe how calm Daxton is after being cut, bound, and placed in that box. I wonder what she said to him?
Cove presses his forehead to his son’s and holds the back of his neck, keeping their bodies connected. “I’m proud of you for being so strong,” he says. “We’re going back to our suite and then home, okay?”
Daxton nods, never letting out a whimper or mentioning that he’s in any pain, while his brother is quiet and appears confused.
“You’re filthy.” Cove smiles, speaking softly to let his son feel relaxed and protected. “It’s okay though. We’ll run you a warm bath and find something to soothe your back. Then we can talk about what happened, okay?”
He nods.
“Just tell me if you’re hurt anywhere else.”
“No, just my back. What does it say?”
“Are you in pain?”
He nods.
“I’m sorry, son.”
Cove looks at Sophia, shaking his head then smiles again at Dax. “Can you do something for me? A big favor?”
“Yes.”
“The police have been searching for you. If they ask where you were, you need to tell them you were lost in the woods and nothing else.”
“Dad, I was lost in the woods.”
Cove nods. “And nothing else, okay? Don’t say you were hurt, or anything about the box. Then we can leave.”
“What box?” Sophia asks in a harsh tone. “What fucking box?”
“Mom, don’t say fuck,” Xavier scolds.
“Yeah.” Daxton turns to her. “It makes you sound like a fucking street thug.”
My sister’s face is red in fury as she gives both Cove and me the I’m on the warpath and I’m breaking both of your necks for lying, all-out manic look... but she holds back in front of her sons.
“Barbarous bitch,” Jules exhales, now headed down the stairs, through the living room, and out the door.
“She’s only a wee bit perturbed,” I say under my breath, but Cove and Sophia are too focused on Daxton to notice anything else happening in the room.
“I love you,” Cove whispers to his son, tying his sneakers then picking up his sweatshirt. He nods for Sophia to take the boys out of the room and into the corridor so the two of us can talk.
We wait for the door to shut before discussing the issue at hand.
“Listen.” He leans against the sofa with crossed arms. I can see the look of relief in his eyes, but the rest of his body emanates anxiety over the suffering his son endured. He has utter contempt for the bitch that hurt him. “I know exactly what’s going through your head. Mera turned my son into a walking billboard for the fucking crime we committed the other night. She’s good. Smart. My son is now evidence that we killed Dayne and we’d never be able to explain his wounds to the cops without being thrown in prison for the rest of our lives. She knows that. I get it without you explaining it in front of my kids.”
“Yeah, Mera knew when Dayne didn’t make it back to their room that he was dead.”
“Well, thank fuck Dax can’t see that word on his back unless he looks in a mirror. Shit, Mark, he’ll have that scar forever. And Xav will see it every time they get dressed. How the fuck am I going to explain this to them?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “The truth maybe.”
“Hell no.”
“The cuts don’t look that deep, they’re more like scratches, just enough for us to see the word. It will fade and disappear. Maybe you don’t have to tell them much.”
“This is... uhh, fuck.” He rubs his eyes with a deep sigh. “You have no idea how happy I am that he’s alive.”
“I do.”
“I need to tell the cops he’s home so they call off the search before they come across something, like that box downstairs.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“And I’ll let the cops know we need to be on our way to have Daxton checked out so they don’t hang around asking too many questions. They should clear out once they see that he’s okay.”
“I can’t go over there.” I motion to my nose.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“No you’re not. Besides, I don’t want you to be sorry.”
“You’re right, I’m not.” He pauses. “Why don’t you wash up and take care of any trail you can think of. I take it you cleaned and covered the boat already?”
This is when I adore Cove Everton, when he sobers up and his head clears enough to act like a man instead of a wimpy, ball-less toad. It’s the fucking alcohol that makes him so spineless. I wish he could see the difference from two hours ago when he was being an ass, to now.
“The boat’s fine. Go and take care of Dax.”
We walk to the door and I can hear my sister’s trembling voice as she speaks to her sons. She’s trying to keep her shit together, but I know when she gets inside their suite she’ll take a moment to cry her eyes out in private. Cove inhales deeply as he listens and then exhales a request. “Kill her,” he says.
“With pleasure. I was going to anyway.”
He leaves my suite and takes his sons’ hands, talking to both of them as they walk toward the opposite end of my hotel. I know they’re being prepped. My sister and Cove are doing a grand job of masking their sadness and rage. Cove freaked for a moment, but then quickly regained his composure after seeing Xavier’s horrified face. And now, if they can get through a chat with the cops, they’ll have the privacy they need to get through an extremely difficult conversation with their kids.
And I’ll be a fly on the wall the entire time.
I sprint downstairs and open my garage, pull the box and my truck inside, then check the surrounding area before lowering the door. That snake was waiting for the perfect moment to put Dax in front of my garage. I’m just relieved he wasn’t there when I pulled out or I might’ve run him over. But maybe that was Mera’s plan, to put him there so I’d end up killing him. Fuck, that bitch. I’m not going to spend my time daydreaming about what could’ve happened. It didn’t pan out that way so why bother? I need to focus on the fresh hunt instead.
My bloodstained shirt gets tossed in the fireplace before I head upstairs to shower and change. The bed’s unmade and my sheets are full of cum stains and greasy Dream Cream from Jules’ ass. It’s really too bad she doesn’t do laundry.
While brushing my teeth and waiting for the shower to warm, I admire my beaten face. Damn, I’m gorgeous. I’ll have to thank Cove for making me so fucking beautiful. That’s a remarkable swollen nose and one badass cut on my lip. It will be a thrill to fuck Jules with my new appearance, like I’m all gangster and shit. I can’t wait to watch myself cum with a busted face.
I laugh at my foolish brain. I can’t believe some of the crap that goes through my head. Always inappropriate thoughts at the wrong time—I’m thinking about my face and my dick instead of the word murderer on my nephew’s back. I suppose I’m just exhausted and won’t be able to function until I get some sleep.
The reddish brown water circles the drain and eventually runs clear as I finish a quick shower. I’m sure it’s past six and my breakfast cart should be waiting. I need some down time. Dry toast, the morning paper, some wholesome spying on my family then much needed sleep.
I towel
off, wrap one of my plush black Jameson Hotel robes around my flesh, and wink at myself in the mirror while gazing at my face one last time.
“I’m a troll, fol-de-rol...” I walk over to my bed with that wonderful song stuck in my head, picking up the condom that’s crusted to the floor. After tossing it in the trash, I get my pot from my dresser drawer.
“I’m a troll, fol-de-rol... and I’ll eat... you...”
Holy shit.
Where the fuck’s my gun?
TAUNT
MY PRINCESS NEEDS to be punished; only this time her wounds may require a stitch job, unlike the laid-back belt to her ass routine that did little damage.
She promised not to touch my weapons. I warned her.
And where the fuck is she? Does she seriously believe she can kill Mera Calloway, or even find her in this town? Jesus, I can’t think of any other reason why she’d take my gun.
I need you. Come home.
I text without mentioning the gun and wait for a response. She’s got balls. I’ll say that. Damn her.
Busy
What? That’s her response? Busy?
No, fuck that. Get your ass home!
I take a bite of toast with a playful grin and swivel in my office chair while viewing my security cameras with the audio on. My eyes are on Cove and Daxton who have been talking to the police for the last twenty minutes. Two of the three police cars have already left and the final two guys are wrapping things up. Cove has a firm grip on his son’s shoulder and he’s his usual nervous self. Of course, we all are when we have to deal with cops. Even seeing them on the security camera makes me uneasy.
Busy
Shit, this woman cracks me up. I take a hit of my joint and text her back.
My sweet, darling Jules, I need your pussy. Come play with me.
Cove shakes hands with one of the cops and the last two men leave their suite, my hotel, and finally, my property. Goodbye, so long, and farewell. Don’t fucking come back.
You had an overabundance of pussy yesterday. It’s my turn.
What the fuck does that mean, Jules?
