Blake Senior had influenced his youngest son to the max, and Marc wasn’t sure if Byron was entirely free from the man. What if their father contacted Byron and pressured him into helping him bring Marc down? Marc shook his head; ever since he had talked to Bailey Hudson, his life had become chaos. No, his brother had moved in, and as much as he wanted to trust the guy, it was still too early.
Chapter Ten
“It’s harder than I thought it would be. Whoever changed the man’s identity is good, very good,” said a frustrated Byron. It was a week after Brendan’s funeral, and Byron still tried to find out more about Bailey Hudson, but he hit wall, after wall, after wall. “I need to get out of the house for a while,” Byron said as he shut down his computer. “That’s an excellent idea, little brother,” Marc said, and he meant it. Byron hadn’t left the mansion in over a week, and that wasn’t healthy.
Marc planned on going out, too. He would visit the Flower Hut to see if Bailey had opened the shop again. Marc wanted to talk to the man, check if he was alright, and see for himself that the man was okay? Now, where had that come from? Marc still planned on treating Bailey with caution. If it turned out that Bailey actually was Fabian, Marc would have to kill him, again. So, he would, emotionally, keep his distance, which shouldn’t be that difficult. If there was one thing that Marc was good at, it was keeping his emotions in check. Marc had lost it only once, and that was when he had found Alec hanging upside-down in the basement of his previous mansion.
Marc slowed the car and gazed at the shop in front of him. It appeared that the Flower Hut was open for business again. He parked the vehicle, but doubt filled him when he was about to get out of the car. Marc finally opened the door and climbed out of the vehicle. He pushed the front door open and stepped inside the flower shop.
Marc searched the shop for Bailey, but he saw another man instead. He had seen this one before, this man had been at Brendan’s funeral, and he had lifted Bailey in his arms after he collapsed. “Can I help you?” the man asked as he stepped from behind the counter. “I hope so. I’m looking for Bailey Hudson,” Marc said in a friendly tone.
Suddenly the man didn’t look so friendly anymore. “Who are you, and why are you looking for Bailey?” he questioned. Marc explained that he had met Bailey the previous week and had heard about Brendan’s death. “I wanted to see how he is doing,” Marc finally said.
“Bailey is doing fine; he is resting right now and doesn’t want to be disturbed.” The man eyed him intently, and then he said, “There’s something about you. I don’t like you, and I recommend that you stay away from Bailey.” The man’s tone was downright hostile.
Marc was stunned; this wasn’t what he had expected. Who was this man to make decisions for Bailey like that? “Well, don’t you think that it’s up to Bailey if he wants to see me or not?” Marc replied in a calm, neutral tone. “No, it’s not up to Bailey; it’s up to me. And I want you gone. I don’t like you, Mr. Blake,” said the man.
So, this man knew who he was; it wasn’t really shocking because his family was well known. Marc sighed, and he decided to let it go, for now, because he had a feeling that he wouldn’t win this one. This man was close with Bailey; it seemed that Bailey trusted this man. So, Marc had no other choice than to leave and return later when Bailey himself was at the shop.
Marc was on his way out when he turned, eyed the man, and said, “Well, you know my name, will you tell me yours?” The man smiled, but the smile was gone as fast and as unexpected as it had come. “Keith,” he answered.
Well, that was it; he didn’t want to, but Marc couldn’t do anything else but leave. At least he had a name. When Marc stepped outside, he nearly bumped into Byron. “Hey, little brother, what are you doing here?” Marc hadn’t expected to bump into his brother. Byron didn’t seem fazed; he smiled. “I just had a job interview at Captain Jack’s,” he replied.
“Isn’t that the restaurant that’s located on the other side of the mall?” “Yep, they have an opening for a cook. So, I thought, I might give it a try,” Byron replied, smiling. Marc smiled too because he knew how much his baby brother liked to cook. Plus, Marc knew firsthand how good Byron was behind the stove. Hell, the man had created his very own recipes.
“How long before they let you know?” “In a few days,” Byron answered as they walked toward Marc’s car. Marc turned his head because he felt that he was being watched, and he was right. The man he had met in the flower shop stood in front of the window watching him.
“What’s wrong,” Byron immediately knew that something was off. Marc told him about the guy he met in the Flower Hut and how hostile he had been. “He warned you off?” Byron sounded confused. Marc nodded. “That he did. I will let it rest for now because there’s nothing I can do about it,” Marc explained.
“Do you know who he is?” Byron asked; they stood next to Marc’s car now. Marc shook his head. Only that his name is Keith and that he was at Brendan Hudson’s funeral.” “Well, I can try and get his last name, so I can check him out,” Byron said. “We need to know who we are dealing with because it’s not normal that he is so protective of this Bailey guy, right?” a solemn-looking Byron added.
Marc frowned, was this his little brother speaking? Byron was suspicious, and maybe the man was right. Why was Keith so protective of Bailey? “Something is not right; I can feel it,” Byron softly said. Marc looked intently at his brother. “I think that you’re right, and I want to know everything there is to know about this guy. Can you do that?” he said. Byron nodded, and the man actually looked cheerful.
“You have way too much fun, little brother,” Marc chuckled. Then he got serious again. “How are you going to check this guy?” Marc knew his way around the internet, but that was it. “I have developed my own program.” He looked sheepishly when he said, “I only need to hack different systems.” Marc raised one eyebrow. “Such as?” he questioned because this was getting interesting. Marc didn’t really know what Byron was capable of, but he would soon find out.
“You don’t want to know,” Byron said cautiously. “Oh, but I do want to know,” Marc insisted. “Well, I will tell you all about it when we get home,” Byron promised. That was good enough for Marc, and he got into his car. Byron’s vehicle stood a bit further back.
Marc could only think of Bailey and this Keith guy. Why had Keith been so hostile? Marc hoped that Byron would be able to get some info on the guy. Plus, he needed to see Bailey, alone, without Keith. Marc really needed to get to know him to see if Bailey was Fabian Copely. Byron had been right when he’d said that something was off, and Marc wanted to know what that something was.
Marc drove through the gate and saw that Byron was already behind him, good. Both men got out of their cars and walked up to the house. “I’ll be in my room if you need me,” Byron informed Marc. Marc stopped his brother when the man was about to take the stairs to the second floor.
“The room next to my study is available if you want your own office,” Marc offered. Byron smiled. “That would be great. I need more stuff, and my bedroom should stay just that, a bedroom,” Byron replied, grinning. “Then it’s yours,” Marc said and explained that the room even had a lock. Byron had frowned at hearing that the room had a lock. “I don’t need to lock the door, not for you. You are my brother and are entitled to enter my new study any time you want. I don’t have secrets. Well, not from you,” Byron said.
Marc debated inwardly, should he confide in his brother? Should he let Byron in on his secret life? Marc didn’t trust easily and for a good reason. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Byron questioned when Marc kept staring. Marc sighed and decided that it was time that he trusted his little brother. Together, they could make a good team.
“Come with me; we need to talk,” Marc softly said as he motioned for his brother to follow him. Byron frowned and was about to follow his brother when the doorbell rang. Marc went to the intercom to see who was standing in front of the gate. It was a delivery man.
After a short conversation, Marc turned to Byron. “It’s a courier, and he has an envelope for you, for which you need to sign,” he said.
Byron left, and a few minutes later, he was back, carrying the manila envelope. “I’ll leave you to it,” Marc was about to walk away so his brother could open the envelope in private, but Byron stopped him. “No, stay,” he said as he tore the envelope open. Byron then read the document and shook his head in disbelief. “What is it?” Marc sounded alarmed. “The old man’s final try to get me back into his claws,” Byron answered as he handed Marc the piece of paper.
Marc shook his head after reading the document. “The bastard. What will you do?” he asked because he had to know where Byron stood. Marcus Blake had just informed Byron that he was removed from the will. He wouldn’t inherit any money or company shares if he didn’t return to the family compound. “Well, I say, to hell with the bastard that calls himself our father,” Byron grinned. “Plus, I don’t need his money,” he added sheepishly. “Oh, do tell,” Marc’s curiosity was aroused.
Byron looked sheepishly when he explained how he had earned good money as a software developer. That Blake Senior had never known that his youngest child was a whiz with computers. The only thing that their father had knowledge of was that Byron had a passion for cooking. So, of course, Marcus Blake had reacted like the asshole that he was by sabotaging Byron’s attempt to get a job as a cook at a restaurant.
What the bastard hadn’t known was that Byron had taken cooking lessons and had learned a lot during those classes. Byron had been adamant about starting his career as a cook and then working his way up until he was a chef. So, that Marc had invited him to move in with him had come as a blessing. Marc was impressed, would now be a good time to reveal his secret life to Byron? Maybe.
Chapter Eleven
Bailey watched Marc leave the shop and talk to a blond man in the parking lot. The man was stunning, and that somehow made Bailey’s blood boil. Was it anger that he felt? Jealousy? Surely not; he didn’t even know Marc that well.
Then both men got into their cars and drove off. It looked like the blond man was following Marc Blake. Were they lovers? Bailey shook his head; no, it wasn’t his business. He left the apartment, descended the stairs, and entered the shop. “What did he want?” Bailey questioned, meaning, of course, Marc, who had just left the flower shop.
Keith frowned, and he wasn’t sure if he should tell the man that Marc Blake was here to see him. Then again, if he were lying now, there was a chance that Bailey would never trust him again, and that wasn’t an option. So, Keith decided to go for the truth; well, it wasn’t like he had any other option. “Marc was here to see you. I sent him away because I thought you wanted your peace and quiet,” Keith softly answered.
Bailey looked thoughtful, had he wanted to talk to Marc? He sighed because right now, he didn’t know what he wanted. “I don’t know what I want. I’m tired all the time. I miss Brendan,” the last was a near whisper as Bailey’s eyes filled with tears. Keith wrapped Bailey in his arms and tried to comfort him as best as he could.
Keith’s heart broke upon hearing Bailey sob. However, there wasn’t much that he could do right now. But, what Keith could do was keep a close eye on Bailey and ensure he was safe. He hadn’t liked it when Marc Blake had entered the shop and wanted to see Bailey. Keith didn’t like Marc, and he knew trouble when he saw it. Keith was very sensitive, and when his gut feeling warned him, then he listened.
“I think that you need to go outside and get some fresh air,” Keith carefully suggested when Bailey had stopped crying. Bailey frowned. Did he want to go outside? Before he could say anything, Keith said cautiously, “I know you, and I knew Brendan, and I don’t think that he would want you to stop living and falling into a depression.”
That caught Bailey off guard because it had never crossed his mind that his brother wouldn’t want him to go into depression. But, damn, it was hard without Brendan. All his life, it had been Brendan and him against the world, and Bailey had no idea of how to go on without his big brother, his rock, his confidant.
“I don’t know how to go on without Brendan. I could always depend on him to have my back and to keep me safe,” Bailey whispered. Keith pressed his lips together; he had been shocked when Brendan was killed, and he suspected that the bomb under the car had been meant for Bailey because it was his car. People didn’t make mistakes like that; they just didn’t.
“I know that I can never replace Brendan, and that’s not what I want either, but I’m here for you if you need me. You can call me whenever you feel like it,” Keith said in a soft voice. Bailey looked up at Keith; they had become friends after Keith had helped Bailey carry heavy boxes inside the shop. Bailey had invited Keith for lunch, and they were friends ever since.
The only thing that Bailey knew was that Keith had lived on the East Coast and had moved to Madison Valley one year ago. That was all Bailey knew about Keith Aldridge. He had never given it much thought that he didn’t know anything about Keith or that the man had never shared his past with Bailey or Brendan. However, right now, Bailey was glad to have Keith in his life. Bailey trusted him because Keith had always been there for him and his brother.
“Now, are you ready to go outside and walk around the block?” Keith gently questioned as he took Bailey’s coat and held it out for him to take. Bailey frowned and sighed deeply. Maybe it would do him good to get some fresh air. “Alright, let’s go,” Bailey softly said as he slipped into his coat. “Good,” a satisfied-looking Keith said as he opened the door. Bailey hesitated for a short moment, but then he stepped outside.
******
“Shut up. Are you kidding me?” Byron whispered because he couldn’t believe what he just had heard coming out of Marc’s mouth. “I’m not kidding. I told you the truth, and I meant it when I said that I want to retire. I have enough money to last me a lifetime or two,” Marc replied. “You really are a hitman?” Byron questioned, and he had lowered his voice to a near whisper as if he was afraid that someone would hear him.
Marc nodded; he secretly liked it that he had shocked the hell out of his baby brother. “Now you know how I earn my living. I kill people.” “Only the ones who deserve it, right?” Byron replied. “Yep. I would never take an innocent life; it’s not who I am,” Marc said.
“So, why are you so interested in this guy from the flower shop? What’s his story? I get the feeling that you like the man but that something else is going on,” Byron said. Marc was stunned because his little brother was more perceptive than he had anticipated. Marc had the impression that nothing escaped Byron, which was good.
Marc decided to answer Byron honestly; after all, the man already knew all there was to know about him. “I know Bailey as the owner of the Flower Hut,” Marc paused and motioned for Byron to follow him into the basement where his second office was. Byron would be the second person to see Marc’s sanctuary; the first one had been Alec. Marc pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He didn’t want to think about Alec; the man was dead.
Marc smiled when he saw the wonder on Byron’s face at seeing all the equipment. Marc fired up his computer and pulled up Fabian Copely’s file. Byron frowned. “Isn’t that the owner of the flower shop?” he questioned. Marc eyed his brother intently. “I don’t know, and that’s the problem,” he answered.
“I don’t understand. Why do you have his picture?” Byron asked because he really didn’t understand. “The picture that you’re looking at is from a monster who molested and killed young boys,” Marc replied. Byron was silent because he didn’t know what to say.
“Now he is living here under a false name?” Byron finally responded. “It’s not that easy,” Marc said. “I think that it is. Just kill the motherfucker,” Byron suggested. Marc pressed his lips together. “That’s just it, I did, or thought that I did,” Marc replied. “What do you mean by that?” Byron inquired.
Marc explained his last assignment and the horror he faced when he retu
rned home. He noticed that talking to Byron was easy, familiar. The pain that he felt every time that he talked about Alec had lessened as well. Byron hadn’t interrupted his brother, but he had listened intently. Marc knew that his baby brother would remember each word that he had spoken.
“What are you going to do now? I mean, this is Bailey Hudson, there’s no doubt,” Byron said after he had eyed the picture of Fabian Copely for a few minutes. Marc didn’t know how to answer that one because he wasn’t sure what he should do. He did know that he needed more information about Bailey Hudson before he would take the necessary action.
Assassins the Florist Book One Part One Page 7
