“Bottles?” Lizbeth’s tit radar immediately goes up, and Logan and I exchange a quiet laugh because we know what’s coming. “You know I’m not totally opposed to pumping, but you won’t be that late, Skyla. And a good mother knows it’s best to keep them on the nipple. It’s still not too late for them to start rejecting you.”
“Geez, Mother”—Skyla takes Nathan from me and hands him to Mia—“you make it sound so personal. I can’t keep up this pace any longer. They’re ravenous—and have I mentioned biting me? Plus, they don’t seem to mind the formula at all.”
Both Skyla and Lizbeth freeze. I’m pretty sure that was a slipup on Skyla’s part. She’s been pretty staunch on keeping this bit of manufactured news from her mom.
“Oh my living God!” Lizbeth thunders so loud the house shakes. “You are not giving my grandchildren powdered toxins from the grocery store! Please do not tell me you have resorted to putting trash into your children’s bodies, or I will—”
Skyla lays a finger over her mother’s lips in an effort to silence her. “You will survive, and so will they. Besides, it’s not trash. I have it on good authority that the formula I selected is as good as mommy milk. My friend Ezrina can attest to this. And I’m still feeding them every night—religiously.”
Lizbeth’s face contorts in grief, red as a turnip. “My God, you only made it six months,” she wails. “I should have been there for you. I can’t believe I idly stood by and allowed this to happen. It’s all those damned vaginas’ fault.” Her chest bucks with a silent cry, and both Logan and I exchange a worried glance. Who the hell knew a simple bottle could lead to a meltdown of vaginal proportions?
“Okay, fine.” Skyla cups her mother’s face. “I’ll only use the bottles in the event of an emergency. I promise I’ll keep myself front and center as the boys’ favorite chew toy.” She gives Angel a sly look because she just so happens to be her favorite chew toy as well. “Mostly.”
We wrap up the party and say a quick round of goodbyes.
Tad limps us to the door, right along with Lizbeth. “And don’t you bad mouth those pink bits and pieces! Those tiny portals of humanity are racking up quite the payday around here. Don’t knock it till you try it!” He slams the door behind us as if to exclaim his vaginal point.
We step out onto the porch and pause as the cool Paragon air wraps itself around us as Skyla makes a beeline for the car, already texting someone—most likely Chloe.
Logan knocks me in the ribs with his elbow. “Here that, Greg?” That shit-eating grin of his spreads ear-to-ear. “You can make a nice nest egg for yourself selling a little piece of ass.”
“The only piece of ass I need is right there”—I nod to Skyla, slightly sickened by my own dry humor, even if it were a play on words—“and my chief concern is my nest. I think I need to ask Liam to help me whip that place into shape. I’ll spend every last dollar and every last breath doing it.” That dollar drop sponsored by Dominique Winters comes to mind. I have more than enough to renovate the place from top to bottom. I meant to get to the renovation sooner, but with the dead hanging around the house, I didn’t bother with the remodel.
Logan lets out a white plume of a sigh. His shoulders depress as he offers a weary nod of agreement. “I’ve got a few dollars rolling around and all the spare time in the world. I’ll help you get whatever shit you need knocked out. How about we set a goal of getting the two of you moved in well before your anniversary?”
Something in me loosens, and it feels as if Logan and I are back on track, not the adversaries for Skyla’s love and affection, the heavy competitors for her heart that we’ve been all week. The truth is, I’m tired of warring it out with Logan. I’m still married to Skyla. I win. That should be enough for me.
“Sounds good.”
He meets me with a fist bump as we head out to the Mustang.
I win when it comes to Skyla. I shake my head at the thought as I crawl into the back seat—Logan and Skyla in the front like a couple.
An overpowering grief crashes over me, and I watch them as we drive out to Ellis’. Both Skyla and Logan have my heart. Candace has laid out the future for them like a smooth path. The only briar patch in the middle is me.
I lean back and glare up at the sky.
I’m not complying with your little plan. This is my life. My wife. My family you are threatening to tear to pieces. I won’t let you.
Because no matter what you’re dreaming up, whatever it is you’re scheming, I’m ready to fight to the death—and perhaps beyond that if I have to, and something tells me I’ll have to.
I won’t let you make me feel like I’m holding onto the losing end of the stick.
I’m not.
I have Skyla.
I’ve already won.
Ellis’ house is shaking, quaking with the dull inharmonious rhythm of the bass as an ornery rap song blares through the neighborhood. I can practically feel my mother’s tension from across the street. She let me know twice this morning that she was pissed over the fact Skyla’s sister would be watching the boys tonight, and here she was a mere ten steps away. I’m betting she’s having second thoughts about that right about now. Although, all I hear lately is how very little they see the boys, how she suspects Skyla is favoring her own family, and the boys will grow up to be strangers to her and my father. I don’t believe that for a minute. But her budding piranha-like ways have to be clipped. That’s why I’m going to propose that Skyla and I move in with them while I attack the old Walsh place with a sledgehammer. Tad is right. I do not want to end up like him, or near him. I declare that shit ride has come to an unceremonious end. And, of course, my mother can have her fill of the boys for a couple of weeks straight, proving that Skyla doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.
We step out of the Mustang and onto the Harrisons’ driveway.
“It’s just like old times!” Skyla threads her arm through mine as she bounces in her high heels. She looks gorgeous tonight, per usual. She’s donned a short black dress and swiped on a little red lipstick, taking her to supermodel levels. She looks just as physically fit as she did before she had the boys, but every time I bring it up she reprimands me for lying, so I leave well enough alone.
Ellis stumbles out, looks dazed and confused, and Logan shakes his head at him.
“Just like old times.” He slaps Ellis over the back. “Dude, you okay?”
“Hell yeah. I am now.” Ellis offers us each a high five. “Get the hell in there. I have the entertainment showing up soon. I promised Bree I’d flag them down so they don’t miss us.”
Skyla laughs at the thought. “I don’t think anyone can miss this place, not tonight anyway. I’m afraid to ask, but what’s the entertainment?”
“Chloe on a spit?” Logan offers, and the only one not laughing is Skyla.
“Dude”—Ellis mock socks her arm—“I was just talking to Bishop in there. You need to chill out, and then you need to take a step way the hell back. She told me what the two of you are up to, and I don’t know, man. You’re not playing with matches here. You’re running around a firework factory with a torch in hand.”
“Preach it.” Logan forces a smile Skyla’s way, and she scoffs.
“I’d better go find Bree.” She hikes up and plants a kiss on my cheek before strutting her hot self inside.
“So, what’s she got going on with Bishop?” I glare at Ellis because I think we both know if he doesn’t speak up I might just crush him for the hell of it. It’s killing me not knowing what Skyla and Chloe have going on. And it seems like every time we get the conversation started something, everything interrupts us.
“Dude”—Ellis lets out a groan that sounds like his insides are about to explode—“she’s fucking with the wrong person. I’d say talk some sense into that woman, but it’s too late for that shit.”
Logan yanks him in by the elbow. “Why is it too late?”
“Don’t ask me. I’m not up on all that covenant bullshit.” He takes a f
ew steps out before turning to Logan. “And hey, G and I made a few modifications to the plans. Meet up with me sometime if you get a second.” He flags down an SUV full of older women who happen to be sporting some serious war paint and eyelashes so long they come with their own zip code. The garish grannies file out, each wearing a tiny silk robe, and Ellis howls up a storm. “Shit! These chicks are hot!” He’s quick to escort them around the back, leaving both Logan and me shaking our heads.
“What the hell just happened?”
Logan groans at the sight. “He’d better get his eyes checked.” He turns his full attention my way, his features hardening to something just this side of pissed. “And Skyla better get her head checked. What the hell is going on? Ellis doesn’t throw the word covenant out there lightly.”
“No, he doesn’t. And I don’t think Skyla does either. Has she said anything at all to you?” I scour his features as if his words alone won’t be enough to satisfy me.
“No. She’s been tight-lipped from the beginning. I think it’s time we had a sit-down. In the least I want to know what the hell is about to blow up in our faces.”
A dull laugh dies in my throat because I’m too pissed to give it. “Do you have that little faith in Skyla’s ability to lead? She’s bright. She’s capable. And whatever she’s doing with Chloe, I’m sure she’s thought it through.”
“Yes, I have faith in Skyla’s ability to lead,” he says it with a viral anger that matches my own. Emotions have been running high this week on both ends, and they’re about to blow. “It’s Chloe I don’t trust, and neither should you. If I were to take a wild guess, it’s your face this will take off first.” Logan’s angry eyes stay trained on mine, and neither of us moves. For a minute, I consider how good it would feel to go at him. Shove my fist down his obnoxious throat, pummel him, blow after blow, but then it doesn’t take long for me to figure out it wouldn’t do any good. We’ve screwed with one another so much in the past, repented, begged forgiveness, and started all over again. It’s like a demonic carousel neither one of us can figure out how to get off of. “And while I’ve got you here.” He glances up at the house with its guests spilling out onto the driveway, each with a requisite red Solo cup in hand. That lion fountain that Emily so readily destroyed last New Year’s Eve already resurrected as if nothing had happened. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been infiltrating your life as of late. I sense the tension, and I don’t want that, not for you or for me.”
“It’s all right. I get it. You’ve got a bundle of joy that you didn’t expect, dropped off on your doorstep. You’re excited, and you should be.” My stomach clenches because I can’t imagine what Candace was thinking, toying with everyone’s emotions this way. “Skyla and I are moving to my mom’s until the house is ready. Why don’t you come, too? You’ll be close to Angel, and I know Skyla would appreciate it.”
Logan looks up at me with that stillness he usually gets just before the disappointment sets in. I can’t live at Whitehorse without having my balls shrivel. Hell, I’d rather live with Tad, and I have.
“I get it,” he whispers. “I’ll think about it.”
A small crowd strides by, three men, three women—paired off two by two, but these aren’t your average partygoers. These aren’t your average strippers either. They’re all too uptight, far too invested in playing the part to relax. It’s the G-man brigade trying to cash in on whatever they can to net more prospects.
“They’re here,” Logan says as they make their way inside.
“And they are never going to leave.”
We follow them inside, and Lexy attacks Logan as soon as we walk through the door. I spot Michelle dry-humping Liam, and he gives a casual wave as if it’s an everyday occurrence, and knowing the two of them it is. But it’s the dark-haired, pale-skinned sulker standing with his enormous arms crossed while looking down at everyone in the vicinity that has my attention.
I walk over and slap my brother, the brooder, over the shoulder. “Smile, would you? It’s a good look on both of us.”
“I have little to smile about these days.” He scowls out at the crowd, and I follow his incendiary glare to Skyla and Chloe. Shit. “And neither do you.” He lifts his drink as if he’s toasting the fact. “Your wife is more trouble than she’s worth.”
“So is yours.” I step into his view. The last thing I’m going to stand for is Wesley demeaning my wife while staring her down. “What’s with Laken’s double? Is she still in the Transfer?”
“Safe and sound.”
Wes told me he was housing her and assured me he would not let her run amuck on Paragon.
“I don’t want to talk about her.” His shoulders slump as he cranes his neck past me a moment. “My wife left me, and I want to know why.”
I glance back to Skyla and Chloe. Bree has joined them and is in the process of strangling them both in an awkward embrace. “Chloe left you?” A dull laugh thumps through me. “I’ll take a wild stab at it. Maybe the fact you’re fucking this new girl in her bed had something to do with it. Chloe is a complicated creature, but she is pretty practical when it comes to being number two to anyone. You of all people should know that. She’s you in female skin.”
He shakes his head wistfully as the music picks up in both volume and rhythm. “That must be what did us in. We were too much alike.”
“That and the fact you’re obsessed with fucking Cooper Flanders’ wife.”
“As she is with Skyla Messenger’s husband.”
“Touché.”
Wes nods me over to the kitchen where the roar from the speakers is slightly subdued. “Who are these people Skyla has manipulated into giving themselves up to the feds? She’s royally fucking up my plans.” He lets out a greedy grin as if she’s doing just the opposite and fitting into them quite nicely. And for the love of God, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
“None of your business. How are things going with the volunteers?” My heart throttles into my skull and starts vibrating right along with the rhythm Ellis has cursed us with. I don’t want anyone to suffer. But the assholes Wes wrangled up to wet the feds’ appetites for the Nephilim have really pissed me off.
“They’ve recanted. As soon as one escaped captivity, he warned the rest not to do it. They dropped off like flies.” He shakes his head with the beginnings of an incredulous laugh. “They actually believe that Skyla can protect them. That her Retribution League is about to take down all of my efforts and appease the federal government—and that their paranormal works department will be more than satisfied. But you and I know it can never happen.”
“If they get enough people, it will. They may be casting a wide net, but in no way are they equipped to take on the numbers they’d need to. They’re going to be satiated and soon.”
“Maybe.” He cups his hand over his chin. “Skyla is setting Chloe up for something. It’s Chloe that’s going out and reporting these idiots while Skyla sits back and reaps the rewards.”
“A strategy you’re familiar with, I take it?”
“A strategy I invented,” he smarts. “And before you say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, let me make it clear that if done incorrectly, it will cost you your life. If your wife needs a few lessons, send her my way. A few good tips might just save both your necks.” He looks to the door before doing a double take as Laken and Coop make their way over.
“Look who’s here.” Laken’s wide, sarcastic smile sets the tone. “I hear you’ve been enjoying my company.” She frowns at Wes and lets all of her disappointment bleed through. That look right there is enough to cut a man’s balls off and stuff them into his mouth. “And I see Skyla is losing her sanity again with Chloe by her side.” Now it’s me she’s frowning at. “I’d better go say hello.”
Cooper waits until she’s out of earshot before stepping into Wes, and I can feel the fistfight coming before he ever throws a swing. Honest to God, I don’t know what the hell’s taken so long.
“Wes.” Coop clos
es his eyes a moment. “I know you’re desperate. I know you love her, or at least you think you do—but you don’t. If you really loved Laken, you would still have her.”
My stomach tenses in a knot, because if Coop didn’t throw the first punch, it just increased the odds that Wesley might.
But, instead, my brother closes his eyes and acquiesces to Coop’s logic. “I know. If I followed her lead, and gave up my standing, then I would have Laken safe in my arms.” He glances to me as if I might have something to add.
“I don’t think so.” It may not be the answer he was waiting for, but it’s the truth. “Her heart was already pointing to Coop.”
“It’s true.” Wes raises his brows to him in amusement. “So, you see, Laken was never mine to lose. She was already knitted to your soul before she ever left me. And that, my friend, is the sword in my heart.” He looks past him to the girls who appear to be at a standstill themselves. “But you won’t last forever, Coop.” He glances back to me and offers a morbid smile. “None of us will.” He takes off into the crowd as bodies bury him from our sight.
I step in close to Coop as the music strangles the atmosphere around us. “Did you ever find out who the girl is?”
“Yes, I did.” He looks my way, and in this dim light, he and Logan could be interchangeable.
“Who the hell is she?” Logan steps in from behind and startles us both.
Coop gives a little laugh. “I’ll tell you before the night is through, but why don’t we make a game of it? First one who figures it out gets a bonus prize. I’ll fill him and only him in on another little nugget. I happen to know what the hell Skyla is doing with that witch she’s leashed herself to.” He takes a deep breath as he looks back in the direction of the girls. “And it’s not a bad idea—that is, if it works.”
“It won’t work,” Logan is quick to assure us all of Skyla’s demise.
“You’re a real fucking cheerleader, you know that?” Coop grins as he says it. “Why don’t you try out for the team at West? I hear they’re looking for a few good girls.”
Crown of Ashes Page 49
