Page 33 of Last Resort

Needs improvement, my ass.

The woman is definitely something else. Doing something that most can’t—push my buttons.

My phone rings. Ledger. Just what I fucking need.

We’ve yet to discuss the other day but in classic Sharpe form, we won’t. We’ll brush everything under the goddamn rug and pretend like it never happened.

So that means he’s only calling for one thing.

I roll my shoulders and am grateful this time around I’ve had a drink before I talk to him.

“Ledger.” No niceties. He doesn’t deserve it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He laughs the question out.

“What am I missing here?” I move a few feet outside of the walkway to have some privacy.

“You’ve been there one day and you’ve already cancelled your first meeting? Christ, Callahan. Couldn’t you at least try?”

Every part of me tenses—my jaw, my fists, my shoulders—and yet when I speak, my voice holds that aloofness that I know for certain pisses him off. “Ah, and I thought you weren’t keeping tabs on me.”

“Earn the right for me not to, and I won’t.”

Has he been drinking? It’s not like him to tie one on in the middle of the week. “What do you want, Ledge?”

“Same thing I’ve always wanted. For you to man the fuck up and do your part. Par for the course, you’re not.” He emits a sarcastic chuckle. “How were we ever from the same father?”

His words hit me like a battering ram. We have our differences, our father’s differing treatment of each of us being the main thing, but he’s still my brother. Still my best friend. Or . . . was. Every part of me riots against the words he just said.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear you say that, brother,” I say between gritted teeth. “And then we’re going to start this conversation over before you really piss me off and I block you from my phone so that you can’t call and treat me like a child yet again.” I draw in a deep breath. “So, what is it that I can do for you?”

“Stop playing these bullshit games. You’re there to work, to set an example for the staff of what’s expected, not fuck around like a rich playboy.”

“Back the fuck off, Ledge,” I warn.

“Why? You’re going to keep doing what you do, and I’ll keep doing what I do.”

“So that’s how it’s going to go?”

“Apparently.”

“Then maybe you should check Silas’s flight log,” I say, referring to the pilot of the company’s private jet. “It’ll tell you that I was stuck on the tarmac during the scheduled meeting because of lightning from a sudden thunderstorm that passed over the island. Sixty-six minutes sitting on the tarmac to be exact. And so I rescheduled the meeting that took place about two hours ago and just finished, not that I have to explain myself to you or anything.” Fucking hell. I walk from one side of the clearing to the other. “I love you, Ledger, but I don’t exactly like you right now.”

“Now you know how I’ve felt on and off over the past fifteen years since Mom died.”

The dig is there. Not even subtle. Not even anything. Just there out in the open.

I have nothing more to say to him so I end the call without another word.

The darkened ocean stretches out before me, its waves lapping against the shore, but I clench my jaw so tightly that my teeth hurt.

Fuck. I’m so damn sick of this shit.

A light turns on in a villa near me and the silhouette of a woman passes in front of the curtained window. I stare absently at her as my frustrated desire comes back riding shotgun next to my fury at my brother.

My feet move without thought. There is only one thing I want right now. One person who can give that to me.

I kept the promise for twenty-four hours. That’s longer than most attempts. At least I’m making progress.