“And you look like you’ve been jerking off too hard.” I use my good hand to flip him off. Slapping his knee, Thiago returns to twisting thechair in full circles, soaking in the view like a man who isn’t tied down. Someone who’s free to enjoy whatever life throws at him, which currently is our latest drama.
It feels like forever ago since we’ve spent time together in person. The last time being before my mom passed, actually. Being my aunt’s son and growing up in a rough part of town like we did, we spent every day after school and every weekend terrorizing the locals. That was before my mom got sick, and although she refused to stop pulling doubles at the hospital, I decided to stay home every chance I got. To be one less problem she’d need to deal with.
Thiago finally spins to face the monitors, already cracking his knuckles in preparation. “Well, this is all exciting and everything, Daxy boy. Now, tell me what the hell we’re really dealing with here.”
I lean against the desk, the unease in my chest only growing. I relay what I can, bundling Avery’s adoption and Cathy’s death, Fredrick’s kidnapping of Meg, Axel’s injury, and our current predicament in this mansion, the auction happening tonight, all into one clusterfuck of a tale. Thiago listens intently, threading his fingers over his stomach, and when I’m finished, he lets out a low, long whistle.
“So that girl you had me track down for you a few months ago,” Thiago taps his thumbs together, “she’s your girlfriend, and she’s here right now, cuddled up in bed with someone else?” I reach over to shove his chair into another spin, dislodging the growing grin on his face.
“It’s not like that, man. Story time is over, let’s dive into what Wyatt’s asked you to do before he comes back to check that we’re not fucking around.”
“He does seem like quite the ballbuster,” Thiago agrees. “He called me yesterday morning, telling me to pack and get on his private jet. The dry cleaning was already on board with directions to bring it with me, and he’d pay me extra.” A disbelieving chuckle escapes him, his knee twitching up and down.
“You could have said no if you had other plans.”
“Dude, it was aprivate jet,” Thiago’s grey eyes blow wide. I raise a brow, used to his deflecting nature. The grin on his face slips, and he sits forward to put his elbows on the desk. “Truth is, timing couldn’t have been better.”
I toy with a groove in the wooden desk, avoiding Thiago’s gaze. Istill don’t like that Wyatt went behind my back with this, snapping his fingers and commanding people around. As nice as it is to reconnect with family, he’s brought my cousin into a situation we can’t predict or control. Not to mention Thiago’s knack to get himself into dangerous situations, even without Wyatt’s help. Surely there’s something better out there for him, something safer?
“You could always get a real job,” I say, wincing at the way it sounds. Thiago looks at me knowingly with his eyelids half-mast. It’s not the first time we’ve had this argument.
“Not one that pays like this. The work might be few and far in between, but I’ve learnt to be careful in the meantime. Besides, hacking is all I’m really good at. You know that.” I swallow past a lump of guilt in my throat.
Thiago is a high school dropout, letting his ADHD and dyslexia get the best of him. He can hyperfocus on a screen and digit code for hours, but give him a notepad and pen and he’s a goner. Although it’s never been said out loud, we started to drift apart from that point onwards. I was the one who got out, who made the grades to go to a private college. He’s the one who stayed behind to care for my aunt until she was killed in a gas station robbery gone wrong. Now he’s just stuck there without any motivation to leave.
Thiago claps me on the bicep, breaking through my thoughts. His grin has returned in full effect. “Move out of the way, Cuz. I’ve got work to do.” He switches on the monitors and pushes in a USB drive, his fingers flying over the keys.
A knock sounds a moment later, the butler delivering the promised food beneath a silver cloche. I thank him, taking the plate over to the desk and unveiling a towering club sandwich with fries. Thiago’s excitement is visible, his eyes hungrily eating the food before he’s managed to shove it into his mouth. Between tapping keys and grabbing for more fries, he becomes consumed by his task, muttering to himself here and there. I drop onto the futon, covering my eyes with my hand.
By the time voices filter in from the front lawn, we’ve got nowhere. My throat tightens as if a hand circles my nape, compressing my windpipe. The minibuses have arrived, and we’re quickly running out of daylight. I’d hoped amidst the stress of living through tonight’sauction, I would have at least been able to give Avery some good news. A lead that she’s desperate for.
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Thiago asks. He’s pulled a baseball cap out of his bag to wear backwards, although it fits awkwardly over his afro. Ironically, he’s rolling a pen between his fingers, although he won’t be using it. “Your stress levels are impacting my productivity.”
“I haven’t even said anything,” I grumble, pushing up from the futon. He chuckles to himself, not even bothering to cast a glance over his shoulder.
“Exactly. Worst hacking companion ever. Go on back to your girl so I can put my headphones in and concentrate better. Your energy is throwing me off.”
“Fair enough,” I agree. Striding past, I quickly smack the cap off his head and make it out of the door before the pen collides with the other side of the wood. I find myself smirking, feeling a little lighter than before. It may not be my ideal family reunion, but seeing Thiago has reminded me we’re not as alone as I’d thought.
Heading towards Axel’s room, I mentally shift gears. There’s still so much to prepare for, but for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe. Whatever happens tonight, we’ll do it because Axel asked us to, and we’ll face it together.
Chapter Twenty Seven
I return from the bathroom, a towel slung low on my hips. Avery walks in a moment after in a matching towel, the plush pebble gray material hugging her naked body. Her hair is piled onto her head, although the tendrils that have fallen loose are beginning to curl from our recent shower.
I was thankful when Garrett kicked us all out of Axel’s room to let him sleep, relieving us from sitting with our thoughts, and Avery was only too happy when I suggested a distraction. AKA, I ate her cunt on the bathroom counter until she screamed and bent her over in the shower until we both came hard.
Avery’s chosen bedroom is empty, although a suit has been draped across the bed covers. The fit looks tailored, and the sheen of the jacket appears expensive—exactly Wyatt’s taste. Beside it, a beautiful dress in navy satin is perfectly laid out, not a single crease in sight. The straps are strings of diamonds, following a low dipping neckline to a sapphire-colored gem at the bottom of the V. Mesh panels have been cut out of the sides to give a hint of skin underneath.
I bristle at the sight. I don’t want anyone, especially Sharon’s friends, to see any part of Avery. But alas, I’m not the puppet master. Just the puppet.
“Never fails to surprise, does he?” Avery smirks, running the silkymaterial through her fingers. I grunt, opening the suit jacket to find my underwear has also been selected and carefully folded on the white shirt.
“Just a fucking creep, I reckon.” The sound of Avery’s laughter soothes my irritation, not just at Wyatt’s micromanagement but the situation as a whole. I have no interest in dancing along to Sharon’s tune, but tonight’s appearance isn’t my choice, and apparently Wyatt is granting wishes like a freaking genie these days. I just wish he wouldn’t dress me up like livestock for it, given Sharon’s prior interest in me.
Dropping my towel, I reach for the boxers, sensing Avery’s eyes roaming over every inch of my skin. I shudder at her hungry gaze, despite only just having her all to myself for a change. Somehow, even when I’m not my muscliest or best self, Avery looks at me as if I’m the man of her dreams. Sometimes it’s nice to think I didn’t always have to share those dreams with four other men.
Silently walking across the thick sheepskin rug on her tiptoes, she leans into me, bracing her open palms on my chest. I allow her to walk me back a few steps until the wall leaves me nowhere else to go. The towel wrapped around her falls away, pooling at our feet, the warm press of her breasts nestled against me.
