“We got out and Wyatt is safe, but he ain’t going to be getting in touch anytime soon, all right? If he does, you answer the call, but for now, Conrad, fuck…” Duron seemed to lose his voice.
“Wyatt needs you to trust him,” Beaumont said quietly, staying in his seat, going with his gut. “He’s on the most important mission in his life. He is safe, and before you ask, he wanted this—he chose the path he’s taking now. He chose it.”
“Fuck.” Conrad seemed to deflate right in front of Beaumont’s eyes. “Is he even on our side anymore?”
“He’ll always be our brother from another mother,” Duron said firmly, dropping Conrad’s arms and stepping back. “Nothing you might ever hear going forward will change that. Even if you hear nothing, that doesn’t change. Do not go looking for him, and if you have to go looking, don’t ever find him. Understand? Don’t find him. It is what he would want. He chose what he’s doing. For the first time in his life, Wyatt has decided for himself, and we’re going to support him on that. Aren’t we?”
Conrad nodded. “Yeah, man. You’re right. I trust you with my life, and if you tell me Wyatt’s found a way out and he’s living his life, then, yep. I’d expect him to do the same for me. But hell, give me something. What the hell did you find out down there?”
Beaumont chuckled darkly. “Duron found out assassins weren’t the only people who could kick ass and stomp heads. Broken furniture wasn’t the only thing we left in Paraguay.”
Thankfully Duron took over from that point, filling Conrad in on the fight against the Devil’s men and the ninjas that they’d sent to kill them both.
As for Beaumont, he sat, his mind blank, worn out, tired, but glad to be on familiar soil. He would process the business with his son in his own way. He had one ugly thought—something James had said about Andromeda knowing who he’d been all those years ago.Did that mean Urt knew about my family, too? Is that why I got onto the council in the first place? So he could watch me and stop me from finding James?
Going down that line of thinking wasn’t going to do Beaumont any good, and he knew it. Regardless of why Urt took him on as a council member, the joke was on the dead guy. Beaumont was on the council, he was leading the show, and there were going to be some changes in the way things got done. A lot more transparency, a lot more accountability.
For now, Beaumont pulled the laptop Todd had left for him closer, tapping the screen to wake it up. He had a far more important focus to work on—finding a comfortable house for him and his new mate. A base for them as they started their new life together. “Hey Duron,” he said, as Conrad left the room. “What do you think of Nevada as a place to live?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Duron
The plane landed in Reno and Duron wasn’t sure how he’d got talked into coming to a place that he was sure was more desert than forest to look for a house. They’d considered several other states, but there was always something not right with them.
Beaumont had declined Duron’s offer to move into his big house. Heck, he wouldn’t even let Duron visit the place. He’d gotten a little peeved at that until Beaumont had drilled into him, literally and figuratively, that the house had no soul and wasn’t for them.
The cabin he’d built with his assassin brothers wasn’t a place they could use. Duron wasn’t sure his remaining single assassins would tolerate what Beaumont and he got up to in the bedroom, or any other room. So after three days of hiding out in a hotel away from everyone, Beaumont had persuaded him that Nevada would be good for them both.
Off the plane and in the dry and arid heat, Duron grumped. His bear grumped, too, as its nose burned with the heat.
He gave a side eye to his smiling mate as he greeted the woman, who smelled of a posy of flowers. None of which went together. His nose wrinkled for another reason as he listened to her gush over Beaumont.
Money could make a person like that. The budget they’d decided on which was split after he’d had to explain to Beaumont’s ass, they were equal partners in this, was three million dollars. It seemed a decent house cost a lot. He wasn’t going to complain… he wasn’t.
In the car the woman drove, Duron got crammed in the back, his ass numb by the time they reached the first house on the list. He only wished his nose was as numb as his ass with her scent continually tickling his nose.
Getting out of the car as quick as he could, Duron inhaled the arid air, then wished he hadn’t as he stared at the house. It was white and big. That was the most he could say. The owners manicured the front yard to perfection. It made his left eye twitch.
He forced a smile to his lips as Beaumont encouraged him up the driveway. The woman chatted non-stop about the benefits of the house. Five bedrooms, four bathrooms, two large downstairs living spaces, a large, decked back area with a barbeque pit. A pool.
He drowned her out with his animals, none of which wanted the odd smelling house. He didn’t wait to listen to more, taking off to investigate what the scent was that made his stomach rock and roll.
He could hear Beaumont’s fake laugh follow him and that settled him some. Upsetting his mate didn’t sit well with him. The animals inside him were opinionated. And he had to make them happy, too.
What if Beaumont likes the house?He demanded of all his animals.Hey, what then?
In the kitchen, the hair rose on his arms as he stared around at white and silver. It was okay; he supposed. He shrugged and followed his nose to the large refrigerator. Beaumont came in with the chatty woman as he stared speechless at the content.
Gator tail. The fuckers ate his mate! He spun around and stomped to Beaumont, taking hold of his arm, going into protective mode. His gaze searched for the enemy as he made for the exit.
“Where are you going? We haven’t finished,” the woman called from behind them, clip clopping on heels trying to keep up with them.
“We have finished. We ain’t buying this place,” he stated rudely, his eyes narrowed as he encouraged a bewildered-looking Beaumont back in the car.
These folks eat gator! We ain’t living in a place like this.
He got in the back of the car and folded his arms, listening to his mate chuckle, then try to placate the woman who was glaring at Duron. He didn’t give two fucks. They ate gator, sick fucks, so he wasn’t staying.
