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Jameson Hotel: The Complete Series Box Set (Parts 1-6)

Page 43

by Aven Jayce

“Yep, though not enough. I’m getting tanked when we get back to the suite. I’m still trying to process the fact that your dad’s an embalmer. Liquor might help me laugh it off.” I smirk. “Talk about complete opposites. I kill and your father preserves.”

  “If I were you, I’d consider getting on his good side. He is my dad.”

  I open the door. “You ready? I don’t want to leave Jack alone for long. He’s having a rough night.”

  “He’s at our place?”

  “He’s grounded for a few days. Don’t ask.”

  “Grounded?” she laughs. “He let you do that? What the hell happened?”

  I walk silently, giving her a headshake to let it go. Plus, I just fucking told her not to ask.

  “Mark?” She presses for an answer, only my focus is on the scene ahead.

  Our place.

  Our door.

  Is open.

  I check the corridor for guests then pull out my gun as Jules quickly notices the issue. A split-second later, her blade is out.

  “You think Jack left and forgot to close it?” she whispers. I shake my head, holding up a hand to keep quiet and stay back.

  My heart trots then starts to gallop when I set my hand on the door. Blood gushes through my veins like a river after a heavy rainstorm. I’m all fight and no flight. I listen to the sound of the crackling fireplace in the suite. It wasn’t lit when I left. I swear, if anyone hurt my son...

  Jules hides her knife when a woman steps off the elevator, but I’m not letting my guard down. The gun stays out and I will fucking use it on whoever the fuck’s in my suite. When you don’t know what you’re walking into, or whether or not an intruder’s armed, a gun always takes precedence over a blade. I’ll kill a bastard for breaking and entering, and in a case like this, I don’t give two-shits how messy it is. This is my fucking property, my home, and if I want to shoot a rat fuck in the face for trespassing, I will.

  I step stealthily inside the entryway, listen, and take in a whiff of air, searching for any odor or clue to who’s inside.

  “Smells like pizza,” she says, using her softest voice. I smell it too, except there’s something else.

  My nose twitches from the strong scent of women’s perfume. It’s different from Emma’s patchouli and Jules’ delicate scents, much heavier, like vanilla and roses. And my gut feeling tells me this has nothing to do with Jack.

  With my gun raised, I take a short step into the living room...

  “What the fuck is this?”

  PART FIVE

  BASTARD

  I LOWER MY GUN. CONFUSED.

  The fireplace illuminates two young boys sleeping soundly on the floor, bare feet poking out from under fleece blankets, mouths open wide, arms and legs overlapping—one holding a half-eaten slice of pizza and the other clinging to a cell phone. The place is a mess—open suitcases, clothing flung everywhere, fast food and used napkins on my coffee table and floor. Christ, I’ve only been gone an hour. Fucking kids. Jack too. He’s also asleep on the floor, getting his hair massaged by a beautiful woman... my sister, Sophia.

  “Reminds me of marble cake.” Jules nods toward the crew. “Two dark tufts of hair next to your son’s golden locks.”

  The Everton boys are back, Dax and Xav, but Cove’s nowhere to be seen.

  “What are you doing here?” I whisper, putting my gun away before my nephews wake up.

  Sophia places a finger to her lips for me to hush, then points to my son’s ears and the red mark on his jaw, signaling with a troubling headshake that I’m an ass. Either she believes I’m not taking care of him, or she knows I caused the damage to his flesh. I shrug in response, not giving a shit. If she knew the preceding events, his bitching and disrespect, she wouldn’t pity him.

  I motion her to the kitchen and she rises slowly, trying not to wake the boys. Jack looks up and smiles, watching the three of us leave the room.

  “What the fuck are you doing here? I just talked to you on the phone and you didn’t mention anything about a visit. And where’s Cove?” I pour another shot of Jameson whiskey only to have it stolen away and guzzled by my sister.

  “Give me another,” she demands.

  “No, answer me. You traveled two thousand miles to my hotel. What the hell? And where’s your husband?”

  “I left him,” she says in a sullen voice. “I’m not putting up with his drinking and depression anymore. I can’t handle it, and it’s affecting the boys. I caught Daxton with a bottle of beer in our backyard the other evening. My kids are only eleven. They’re too young to be experimenting,” she huffs. “And I know it’s because of Cove.”

  Jules reaches out and places a hand on my sister’s shoulder before bringing her close for a hug.

  “I’ve been telling you for years the guy self-medicates with booze. It’s bullshit,” I state, pouring myself more liquor as I rage about her drunkard husband. His alcoholism may drive me to drink. “Why the fuck won’t he get any help?”

  “He’s tried a few times, but always backs off whenever the difficult discussions about his past come up. He wants to get help without having to talk about his time with Dad.”

  “That’s not gonna happen.” I hold my glass in front of her with a finger pointing toward her face. “You’ve known this shit forever. Why now? Why not years ago? You’re either not telling me something or you’ve got the seven-year itch, in which case you need to go back to the guy. If you’re bored, deal with it. Your whiny ass runs away from anything and everything when it hits a rough patch. And there’s no way you came two thousand fucking miles just to get away from him. Why didn’t you get a hotel in St. Louis and try to work things out? You ran, like always. Why?”

  “Our entire lives have been a rough patch! And it’s not a seven-year itch—it’s twelve! And who’s running away from life? You could be a bit more considerate for once.”

  “I’m saying these things out of love. I’m sympathetic, but I also know the two of you like the back of my hand. You’re both a couple of kids in adult bodies. It’s freaky. Your boys could take better care of you than you do.” I cut her off as she tries to attack back. “And you’d think I’d say ‘thank fuck, you finally left the pussy,’ but the reality is, you need him. Think about it Soph, no one else would be able to deal with your immaturity other than him. If the two of you split, then you’ll both be on your own forever. And you suck at being single. You’ll never find another guy at your age. You’ll sleep, eat, shower, shit, masturbate, and die alone.”

  “You asshole!” she shouts. “How dare you!”

  “Shit, don’t hit me.” I rub my cheek. “Everyone’s fucking smacking me today. Must be National Abuse Mark Jameson Day... stop.”

  “He’s been drinking,” Jules says. She turns back to the boys and notices Jack’s listening to our conversation.

  “Oh, great. This is just wonderful.” Sophia stomps off to the living room.

  “See, she’s a kid. A baby.”

  “I leave one drunk and end up in the home of another. You’re right. I should go back to St. Louis and get a hotel room. Never mind that you, my big brother who’s supposed to take care of me, my brother the hotel owner, might have a room I could stay in. My brother, the skunk head!”

  Her kids stir, moaning and stretching their scrawny arms.

  “Dax, Xav, and I will spend this holiday by ourselves in some crappy St. Louis hotel, if we can get one this time of the year. And we’ll eat spam and potato chips on paper plates for our Christmas dinner.”

  “Mark, don’t make me apologize for you,” Jules proclaims. “Do it now or you’re toast.”

  “Fine, but my apologies are worse than watching cows being put through a meat grinder. I only know how to say I’m sorry with my dick, and it’s never coming out for family. I’m not a fan of incest, and—”

  “Just go do it!”

  I put the shot glass down and follow Jules to the living room. “Soph, I told you I was sayi
ng all that shit out of love. Besides, it’s all true.”

  “Can we stay here or not?” she asks, holding two suitcases. “Just until I figure out what I’m gonna do.”

  “You mean, until you see if Cove comes running after you? Isn’t that what you want?”

  “And?”

  “It proves my point that you’re childish. Did he hit you? Did he smack you around and beat your ass?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then there’s no issue. I don’t get it. Why did you leave again? Because he gets sloshed?”

  She gestures to Xav and Dax. “They deserve better.” And then she motions to Jack. “And for fuck’s sake, Mark. So does your son. What the hell happened to him? He was stoned when we got here and he looks like he got in a fight.”

  “You want to take him? Go ahead if you think you can do a better job.”

  “Such coldness coming from my bastard father.” Jack smirks while Dax and Xav rise, picking up on his scornful remark.

  “Yeah, Uncle Mark, you’re a bastard.” Dax yawns.

  “Yeah, a dirty bastard.” Xav drops his slice of pizza on my floor and takes a suitcase from his mom. “We going back to that dark prison suite we stayed in last year?”

  “Fuck no, the other suite in this hellhole is my place,” Jack declares. “And I don’t want your grimy, sticky, baby fingers all over my stuff!”

  “Of course you can stay in that suite,” I smother my son’s assertive statement. “Jack’s grounded so feel free to use it for a couple of days. That’s the perfect place for you and the boys. I’m sure Cove will be here tomorrow to sweep you off your feet for the hundredth time anyway.”

  “Dad!” Jack complains.

  “Give ‘em your key card,” I order. “Or if you prefer, they can stay with you upstairs in my guest bedroom.” I signal toward his temporary room.

  He babbles a volume of obscenities on his way upstairs to fetch the card, and then protests by tossing it over the stairwell on his way down. It lands at Jules’ feet and she hands it to Sophia, offering to walk her and the boys to the other side of the hotel.

  “Perfect, we can catch up and you can tell me what a jerk Mark’s been lately.”

  Tap.

  Tappity-tap.

  Tap.

  I turn rapidly, staring at the door. He’s back. This time I’m gonna find out what that motherfucker wants.

  “Huh,” Sophia inhales, alert to the sound. Her reaction catches me off guard and I stop partway through the room. She’s heard it before, Dax and Xav too. They stare motionless, their faces fearful of the noise echoing in my corridor.

  “The cane man,” the boys eerily speak in unison. They step back and turn to Sophia for comfort. “Mom?”

  “Shush,” she says. “It’s not him.”

  “Yeah, it is a cane man. An old fucker who knocks his cane around like he’s on a throne with a staff in his hand and we’re his peasants cowering in the corner like terrified animals. How do you know this guy?” I ask, stepping quickly to the door.

  “Don’t open it!” Xavier screams. “Uncle Mark! Don’t! Dad said to run from him!” He races past everyone, pushing Jack out of the way on his way up the stairs, locking himself in the bathroom. “He’s gonna get us!” His words are muffled through the closed door. “Run!”

  “Sophia, what the hell’s going on?” I open the door to look down the corridor, smile at a few guests, but as always, the shitwad’s not around. I close and lock the door then demand an answer.

  “He’s gone?” she asks.

  “What do you think? Do you see him in here, face to the ground, begging for his life?”

  “See Mom, I told you to call Uncle Mark. He’ll get him.” Dax puts his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels with a big grin. “That woman who took me last year said Uncle Mark’s a killer. We don’t have to be afraid when he’s around.”

  “Should’ve listened to your kid, Soph. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me the asshole was bothering you? What happened anyway?”

  She sets the suitcase down and walks over to Dax, sweeping his hair from his face. After a pinch to his cheek she turns to me with arms crossed. It’s usually a protective stance, but I’d say she’s frustrated more than anything—annoyed at Cove, me, and now this.

  “That old man spent three days at the Scarlett,” she hesitates, looking at Dax who’s eager to hear the story. “He sat at the same table each night, ordered wine, watched Cove and me, and always paid with cash. We were tired of him coming in and gawking at us, irritated at how unsettling it was with him around.”

  “He’s truly creepy,” Jules says.

  Sophia nods in agreement. “One night, we decided to talk to him, only he got up and left when we approached his table.”

  “And you didn’t follow after him?”

  “We’re not about to cause a scene in our business, besides he didn’t do anything wrong. There was no reason to stop him.”

  “You’re a couple of cowards.”

  Daxton laughs as Sophia takes a step in my direction, tired of my cockiness. “Watching people in a wine bar isn’t illegal. If he was there the next night we would’ve spoken to him then, only he never returned. We decided we had overreacted, especially considering the man’s age. Then the boys came into our bedroom one night and said a man was in our backyard running a stick along our fence.”

  “Let me guess, no one was there when you looked.”

  “Exactly. We told the boys it was probably a teenager fooling around, but the next day they ran inside the house yelling that the same man with the stick was at the bus stop a few doors down. He was knocking it against the plastic window in the bus shelter, trying to get their attention. I went outside and saw him, the same guy who was at the Scarlett, getting on a bus. That’s when I realized the boys had thought his cane was a stick.”

  “Morons,” Jack laughs. “Haven’t you ever seen a fucking cane before?”

  “Shut it or you’ll find out what a cane feels like on your ass,” I scold.

  “Right on, keep beating me, Dad.”

  I have to ignore his comment or our bickering will continue long into the night. “Soph, why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “You know Cove’s not going to call you to come out to St. Louis.”

  “You, Sophia. You should’ve called, not your husband. What’s Cove gonna do to protect you anyway? Vomit on the guy? That seems to be his only form of defense.”

  Dax looks offended by my comment about his dad and immediately crosses his arms like Sophia.

  “Go check on your brother,” I request, knowing we can’t discuss certain things with him around. “And Jack, it’s time for you to disappear too. Don’t bitch about it either,” I command, wanting to clear the room. I wait until they’re out of earshot then tell Soph to continue.

  “Cove thinks it’s one of the originals who raped him when he was just a young teen. One of Dad’s clients. He said the face looks familiar, but he can’t be certain.”

  “Fuck,” I exhale. “That was over twenty years ago. Why would the guy come looking for any of us now?”

  “Personally, I didn’t believe Cove at the time. He feels that way about most of the people at the Scarlett who cause problems. He distrusts everyone. Says every asshole has something to do with Dad. But seeing that the guy’s now here, I’ve changed my mind. He must be from the Industry. It’s the only thing you and Cove have in common.”

  “You smell that?” Jules whispers.

  “I sure as fuck do. Jack!” I shout toward the guest bedroom.

  “Weed?” Sophia sniffs. “Is he giving my children drugs? What the fuck, Mark?” She races upstairs and I’m one step behind, only we never make it to the guest bedroom. Instead, Sophia stops like a jammed brake in front of my open bedroom door. “Oh, my god! Put that down!” she shouts.

  “Fuck.” I push past her and seize my gun from Daxton’s hand. “Don’t touch anything
in my suite. Nothing!” I growl. “This room’s off limits.”

  He sprints out and his brother yells for him to hide in the bathroom. I hear the door lock and the two are self-jailed in the small space.

  “I’m done.” I strap on my ankle holster and position my extra gun in place. “I’m tired of this shit.” I slip into a clean sport coat and mutter continuously about the fucking kids.

  “You,” I direct my sister, “don’t leave this suite. Stay here tonight. The little piss ants can sleep in the bathroom for all I care. They’ll fit in the tub.” Her kids shriek when my fist hits the wall next to the bathroom before kicking the guest bedroom door open. “And you,” I snap at Jack, “my dope smoking, a-hole, kid from hell, stand up and get your ass on the sofa downstairs. This is your aunt’s room tonight.”

  “Screw you.” He’s sprawled on the bed, gazing at the ceiling. “I’m baked. Nothing’s gonna move me.” His laughter lasts less than a second, changing to ‘no’ and ‘eeeyouch’ as he gets dragged down the stairs with my fingers shoved up his nose.

  “Lie down,” I demand. “I’m in no mood for anything else to happen tonight. Not another word, grunt, or fucking obscenity leaves your mouth.” His head emerges over the back of the sofa, Sophia’s looking down from the second floor, and Jules is sitting on the top step shaking her head at my performance. “And you.” I stare back at her. “Go clean our sex toys like a good woman.”

  “What toys?” Daxton opens the bathroom door. “Can I play?”

  “Yeah, clean the sex toys, Jules,” Jack calls out to her. “He needs to get laid. Maybe then he won’t be such a douche.”

  “Mark, chill out,” Sophia says, ticked off.

  “Fuck that, you all need to chill the fuck out. No more surprises, secrets, drama, and not one ounce of protest, nada! Roll over and play dead like good little dogs.”

  “Thanks for the warm welcome!”

  Jules, still shaking her head, turns to my sister and says, “It’s a combination of the alcohol and feeling suffocated by the number of people invading his space. He’s also livid that he doesn’t have total control of our lives. Not his life, ours. Typical Mark shit. He’ll feel better once he kills...” She looks at Daxton and changes her words. “Once he has the opportunity to put a man in his place. And you better watch out Jack, it might be you.”

 

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