Just shit.
17
The King and I
Skyla
March comes in like a lion with its roaring wind, its dramatic sideways rain because God knows a mere blustery day is not enough for Paragon.
But the weather is the least of my worries. No sooner did Logan and I get back from our brief stint in Rome than we got news via Marshall that more than thirty Celestra were missing from Brazil.
Missing.
As in vanished.
The world thinks a drug lord kidnapped the men, their families are understandably anxious, but a far deeper fear has me unnerved and I’ve sent Cooper and Ellis to investigate. Some way, somehow, I need to know if those men were slaughtered or if they were taken for far more nefarious purposes. One thing I know for sure is the fact Gage is behind their disappearance. No matter what happens, I am certain that Gage Oliver alone is responsible for those Celestra souls. God have mercy on them. But as for Gage, I’m afraid there is no room in heaven for Gage’s tarnished being. He has wholly evolved into a monster. Maybe Logan and I are wrong, maybe Gage isn’t caged in, imprisoned beneath his newly remastered flesh. Maybe he’s been a lie all along.
My stomach churns and burns as bile creeps up in the back of my throat. Ever since I’ve gotten wind of those missing men, I’ve been sick to my stomach—and understandably so, considering I can’t help them and here I am their fearless useless leader. And worse yet, the Factions are spooked. I’ve bled out what little people were left to begin with since Gage eviscerated us last fall. Celestra is nothing but a shell of what it once was. All is gone and I have Gage to thank for it.
It’s the second Saturday of the month, and there’s yet another wedding to be had. This time right here at Casa Landon. As soon as Brielle heard that Wes and Laken tied the knot, she was pissed to high heaven, accusing Laken of trying to one-up her in the bestie department. And then, just like that, she had the genius idea of having a vow renewal right here in the Landon living room where her lust for my stepbrother began all those years ago. Marshall is officiating and my mother has quite literally purchased a fattened hog, butchered and catered from one of Seattle’s premier five-star restaurants.
As soon as Tad cashed in on his latest lottery winnings, he went hog wild—a pun that could not be avoided—and made some very self-indulgent, pricy as hell purchases that have both Logan and me worried for the financial health of the family.
“They say winning large sums of money can be a curse,” I whisper as Logan and I watch Tad and my mother set out a buffet spread that could easily feed five hundred people.
The dining room table has been converted into a buffet stand and there are eight luxurious extra-large chafing dishes made of sterling silver. They’re drop-dead beautiful, as is the mega chandelier hanging awkwardly over the table—hell, it’s dwarfing the table. In fact, it’s better suited for the grand dining hall down at Paragon Palms Hotel than it is here.
Em busies herself fussing over Bree in the corner with her new sweet baby, Ella, sucking on her dangling boob, and, my God, Em’s poor boobs do dangle.
Drake and Ethan battle it out video game style—in designer tuxedos that Tad purchased outright for them—in front of the mega 4D TV. It’s unnerving watching all those zombies that look as if they could quite literally stagger out into the living room. I’m sure once Gage sees them, he’ll get a couple dozen bad ideas. Gage Oliver seems bogged down with nothing but bad ideas these days.
Logan leans in. His warm breath dancing over my neck makes me moan with pleasure.
“Anything can be a curse, Skyla, if you let it.”
His words ring out like a warning bell and I shudder.
I bat my lashes up at his comely eyes, my entire body stepping in close to his. Logan and I haven’t been together since that wild prom night, and every time I think of it I can’t help but giggle, my body heating to unsafe levels.
“You know I was thinking, maybe I should wrangle a sitter for tonight.” I bite down nervously over my bottom lip and watch as his eyes widen. “I might even arrange for them to watch the boys until morning.” Even though Gage and I supposedly share custody, no matter if Gage has them for the day, the boys always sleep here with me. They are mama’s boys through and through and I love it that way.
I glance over at them in the corner playing with miniature cars along with Beau. How they love their older cousin. They practically look up to him in every way and I find that a tad bit frightening. This is Drake and Bree’s son we’re talking about. And believe you me, the fruit did not fall far from the flatulent tree. He’s a bruiser and has been known to dole out a beating with a smile on his face.
“A sitter?” Logan ticks his head to the side, that cocky grin riding high on his lips. “So, who are you going out with? Is Em ready to have a girls’ night after sequestering herself in the house for the last three months?” His left eye comes shy of winking and I wrinkle my nose at him.
“I was thinking of Ellis.” I can’t help but widen my eyes at my own amusement. “Rumor has it, he’s been in the doghouse with G because of that stunt he pulled—or should I say Emerson pulled the night of the dance, and I told him I’d go out with him.” I clasp my hand over his and my thumb does a quick slither over his palm.
Logan moans softly the way he’s prone to do when he’s deep inside of me and I melt on contact. But Logan and I haven’t been together since that magical night and it’s all my protective heart’s fault. In a sad way, I felt as if I was cheating on Gage. Ironic seeing that Gage has no problem at all cheating on me. I guess I needed more time to heal than I initially thought. I don’t know that I’ll ever truly heal from the trauma he’s impinged on me.
Logan’s brows pinch together, the formation of a bird about to take flight. “And where exactly are you letting Harrison drag you off to?”
I trap my tongue between my teeth a moment because I just love that Logan is playing along. That’s one of my favorite things about Logan. I can get him to go along with just about anything I like.
He gives a slight nod, affirming the fact he’s prying in on my stream of consciousness.
“Ballroom dancing.” I wince. “And knowing Ellis, we’ll probably light up a big fat one later. He mentioned that he and Drake have grown a miraculous batch that the entire free world will be clamoring to get their hands on. It is going to rain green from all thegreenthey’re growing. His bad analogy, not mine.” It’s true. Ellis stopped by earlier to give Drake an early wedding gift, a giant bucket of weed. Both Drake and Bree say they’re saving it for tonight. At least they’re saving something for their wedding night.
“Ballroom dancing?” he mouths the words as Mia calls to me from the hall.
