“Fate wouldn’t do that to you, brother. That’s not how it works. Candrin was put on this planet for you and you for him. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. It’s like—I can’t even explain it, but I want this for you so badly.”
“I do too, Huston. I do too.”
17
CANDRIN
A problem and a solution
I’d been staring at my computer for the better part of an hour when my phone beeped with a reminder. It was about the meeting with Anders and a potential buyer for the car. While my personal life was in turmoil, my finances were surprisingly in better shape, though right at this moment, they were still shit.
But when Anders said a guy was interested in buying my car, like really passionate about it even though he’d only seen pics and spoken to Anders on the phone, I was certain we could come to a deal and that would be one less thing to worry about, and money in my pocket.
Of course I had other concerns ‘cause I was intimate with two brothers and neither of them knew that. Both of them made me come so hard, I forgot about me cheating on the other one. Gods, my private life, which was a mess since the reading of the will, had become even messier.
I’d been so angry and sad at losing everything, euphoric at being with Tanner, then confused and guilty when Hudson had his mouth in my hole and on my cock, I hadn’t really grieved my father’s death. And Molly and Saul, who were like a second set of parents—or perhaps more like a favorite aunt and uncle—were lost to me too. Not lost exactly as they messaged me at night when they were at their home, and also we were meeting up for a picnic next weekend. Molly was bringing the food rather than us eating in a restaurant as she understood how strapped for cash I was.
But it wasn’t the same as being in one another’s lives every day when I could wander into the kitchen and Molly would feed me cookies while she made dinner and we talked about anything and everything. And there was no more meandering around the grounds of the estate with Saul while he raked leavesor fixed a lawn mower.
I’d lost not only my father, but the other two people who’d been a constant in my life.
Meeting. Car. Money. That was what I had to focus on now. Instead of being unhappy about the state of my life and relationships, some of which was my own fault, I was trying to divide it into chunks and deal with one piece at a time.
And now I was running late because I didn’t want to spend money on a cab, just in case the deal with the car didn’t go through. I had to get two buses to Anders’ garage. My first mistake was going to the wrong bus stop and when I realized I’d fucked up, and raced to the right one, I missed the bus and had to wait another twenty minutes.
I texted Anders saying I was running late, not that I was a fool who wasn’t used to public transport. I hated being late, something Father had instilled in me and I could hear his voice chastising me saying I needed to be more organized. That was all true but my life had never been in such a state of flux.
Luckily, I judged which bus stop to get off at correctly and only had a short walk to the garage. I’d only ever driven to this area previously and I studied the industrial buildings that lined either side of the street. If weended up losing the charity’s current office space, relocating here instead of in a swanky building would be an option. Wealthy donors liked the current location when they came to deliver their checks and have their photos taken by a local newspaper, but our present office screamed, “We’re wasting money on this superficial shit,” even though technically we weren’t paying rent as it was in Father’s building. But it was now Charles’ building so the future was uncertain.
Anders’ garage was a sprawling site at ground level. He was the go-to guy for luxury sports cars—any sort of expensive car really. His office was in the middle of the site with huge glass windows on all four sides so he could see all the cars and his staff. When Father first introduced him to me, I wondered how his employees felt with the boss’ eyes on them one hundred percent of the time. But from observing the man and his staff, they had a good working relationship. He valued their skills and they respected his opinion.
I stopped and chatted to some of the men and women working on the cars. The office was a brightly lit clean space which stood out in the grease and noise of the garage. As I chatted to Stephen who was wiping oil from his hands, my eyes caught sight of Anders chatting to a man. A man I’d met once before. The onewho strode into Father’s office that Friday when my life flipped and did a 360 turn.
Charles. My fake brother. I had no evidence he was fake but I didn’t need a piece of paper to tell me he conned Father. That was unusual because my alpha father was an astute businessman but perhaps when it came to personal issues, he’d let his guard down. He and my omega dad had always wanted a second child, but it never happened. And Father had a life before he met my dad. One where he had bedded plenty of omegas apparently. He’d never spoken of that time—alluded to it—but never given any details.
Since will-reading day, I’d wondered if I found Charles’ omega dad, I could maybe pry out information on his alpha father.
My attention was drawn to a laugh, one which had shivers shooting up and down my spine, and sweat dotting my brow. My hands trembled and I fisted them at my side. That fucking guy was the one who wanted to buy my car.Mycar. He’d taken everything else from me. No way was I selling him the vehicle.
The office door was open. That was odd. While Anders had an ‘open-door’ policy meaning his employees could talk to him at anytime unless he was in a meeting, but because of the noise, the actual door was usually closed.
Charles’ grating voice blustered as he went on and on about how his newly discovered father had a car just like the one he wanted to buy. Anders appeared unmoved. Smart guy. My guess was Charles was doing his best to find out the owner’s name. Perhaps he suspected the car was mine. But it was in my name, so even if he threw a temper tantrum, he couldn’t take it from me. And I wasn’t selling. Not to him anyway. I’d sleep in the car if I couldn’t pay rent but Charles wasn’t having my vehicle.
Stephen caught my eye and shook his head. I acknowledged him with a nod.
“I don’t understand.” Charles was pacing Anders’ office while my friend was sitting at his desk, a bored expression on his face. “I can find no records of him selling the car.”
I was surprised that my fake brother was so diligent in tracking down the ownership, but I had the papers. And Charles wasn’t getting his hands on them.
After waving at Stephen, I hurried out of the garage, around the corner and sent Anders a text.Sorry but I’ve decided not to sell. The car means too much to me.
The phone beeped seconds later.
A wise decision, was Anders’ reply.
He must have summed up Charles quickly.
