The Insiders Page 21

  I winced but forced myself forward. I was moving at a much slower pace, though. Then, deep breath, I was in the doorway.

  The woman was holding a bedsheet to her front.

  I recognized her. She was the Bonham wife, from a couple that was friends with Quinn. She was naked, her entire side was exposed. She didn’t see me, her eyes wide in horror.

  Matt went to the floor, but he was trying to fight. He rolled to his feet and windmilled his feet up, thrashing everywhere. I wasn’t sure of his intention with that move.

  It was almost humiliating to watch.

  Matt tried to punch back. Kash easily deflected and hit him even harder. My brother was bleeding from the face, and he finally quit, collapsing to the ground with his arms and legs spread out.

  Standing over him, not even breathing hard, Kash saw he had stopped and stepped back. He grabbed one of the pillows, dropping it on Matt’s stomach with extra oomph.

  Groaning, Matt could only get one eye open. “You dick.”

  “You’re the dick,” Kash shot back. “You left her at that loft.”

  Matt paled.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” Disgust and disdain laced that word. “You’re lucky you can still walk. You don’t use her, then leave her. Ever.”

  “What? She has guards. She’s fine.”

  Kash was looking at me.

  Matt stopped talking, trailing, looking up, and finding me.

  He said, “Oh no.”

  A frustrated sound roared from Kash’s throat before he stepped away from him. “It’s taking everything in me not to beat you senseless. Get the fuck up.”

  Mrs. Bonham—I didn’t know her first name—was staring at me now, but I avoided her gaze.

  Just felt wrong to have violated this scene, but I had to see. Matt didn’t deny what Kash said. It was true. With how long it took us to drive here, knowing Matt had intentionally used me, lied to me—how long would I have been there?

  A tear fell, but I brushed it away. I wasn’t going to cry over this. “How were you intending to make this okay? Were you going to try and cover your tracks?” What lie would he have used, when he finally came to get me? But I saw the guilt flare, then shame, and he turned his head. He literally looked the other way.

  He wasn’t coming back for me.

  I was in the room, heading for him, when I growled, “Are you serious? You would’ve left me there? All day?” There was a hysterical note coming from me. It didn’t sound like it was me, but it was. I heard it. I was cringing at it, but I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t even conscious of making the decision to go into the room, but as soon as I started, I wasn’t stopping.

  “Answer me!” A guttural cry from me.

  A guard was inside, coming behind me. He had an arm around my stomach, but I shifted, pivoting. I was running at Matt.

  Kash cursed, moving to block me. He stepped over Matt and caught me up just as I would’ve kicked my brother’s face. With my momentum and the abruptness of how he caught me, I was in the air. Gravity was pushing me up, somehow, but Kash was moving away. He didn’t let me go over his shoulder. Tucking his head into my side, he wrapped one arm around my back, anchoring me to him, with the other behind my waist.

  I was yelling over his shoulder as he carried me out.

  “Huh, Matt? You piece of shit. You were going to just let me figure it out for myself? How long? How long?”

  Kash grunted, but clipped out to the guard, “Get him fixed. I want him taken back to the estate. I’ll deal with him tomorrow.” He carried me out to the hallway. The guard moved in front so I couldn’t see Matt, but the last image I had of him was his face turned the other way. The woman, who the fuck cared about her? I didn’t, but our eyes caught for a second. The same horror hadn’t faded, and I had an urge to give her the middle finger. I didn’t.

  Kash set me down before we started down the stairs.

  My legs buckled. He caught me, then hoisted me back up, just how he’d been holding me. He carried me all the way down, and by then I was moving around. “I can walk. I’m fine.” So he let me go, but when I started back up the stairs, a quick laugh hit my ears as he settled himself directly behind me. He walked me outside. I was being herded by his arms and hips.

  I broke away once we were outside. “Is he for real?!”

  Kash wasn’t responding. He kept a hand to my elbow and steered me to his car.

  “I can walk on my own.” I ripped my arm away.

  “Still.” He stopped, making sure he was behind me so I couldn’t make a run to the house.

  Giving up, with one last curse, I turned, storming to his car. I got inside, slamming the door behind me.

  Kash stood on the sidewalk, his gaze latched on to me. His head was lowered, his hands going to his pockets. A security guard approached him, and they spoke before Kash got into the car. We didn’t talk as we drove out of there.

  I wasn’t paying attention to where we were going. I was stewing.

  Then I noticed the large buildings.

  “Where are we going?” We were downtown.

  “My place.”

  “Why?”

  He slid me a heated look. “Because it’s time you know everything.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  “You know Calhoun Bastian?”

  We’d just gotten to Kash’s downtown place and I was starting to take it all in. The last time had been fast and hot. I hadn’t had time to really look at his place, and I was currently gaping at how sleek and modern and masculine it all was. Shiny cement floors. Dark leather couch—the good leather, too. The tight stuff. A big mural of a mustang on his fireplace.

  He had a fireplace. I pointed at it. “Do you actually use that? Is that safe?”

  He leaned back against his kitchen counter, his hands in his pockets, his head down and his eyes lidded. He always gave me that look, and damn but it did things to me on the inside. My little heart flipped over at the sight.

  His hair was messed again, too.

  “Did you hear what I asked?”

  “Huh?” I rewound and nodded. “Yeah. He’s the sixth-richest man in the world. How do you know him?”

  He stared at me. Long. Hard.

  There was no joy in those eyes, his darkness coming forth once again, and the back of my neck prickled. My heart flipped again, sinking. What he had to say to me wasn’t good. I just knew that much.

  Then he said, “He’s my grandfather.”

  More gaping.

  I couldn’t …

  Holy shit.

  Still more gaping.

  “That guy? But he’s…” Evil. That was the best word.

  Kash looked at the ground, his hands coming to rest on the counter behind him. His elbows were splayed outward. His knuckles were white. “He’s acquaintances with dictators, third world leaders. He knows six branches of the mafia. He’s done business with all of them. His friends are murderers, and that’s the best way to call them.” A swift intake of air. “He also has two daughters, one that’s dead and one that might as well be. He has two grandsons, myself and my cousin. And he’s the biggest narcissist I’ve ever met.”

  His head lifted and I almost stepped back from the agony looking at me. Pure torment and anguish.

  “He declared my mom dead to him when she married Joseph Colello. He didn’t have much. My father’s side of the family are middle class, have a shit ton of pride, and are just as stubborn as my grandfather. When my dad brought my mom around, they saw the torture she’d been through. They witnessed, because that’s what it was. That’s what my grandfather did to her. He would say he would kill her sister if she didn’t leave my father. He’d send her videos of my aunt being raped. They saw all of that, heard all of that, and that’s only the stuff I can handle telling you. There was more. There was worse. All the while, he never came and forced her to return to him. He couldn’t do that because, in his twisted mind, that wasn’t her coming to him. He had to beat her down, destroy her completely. That’s the only
window she got to remain where she was, and that’s when she had me.”

  I felt faint. “Kash,” I murmured, wanting to go to him.

  I did. I started. But he clipped his head to the side. Almost a savage motion. “No,” he growled. Half his hand was white now. He was starting to breathe hard, harsh, through flared nostrils.

  I could feel his grandfather’s hate. It was in Kash, coming out of him.

  And I ached. I wanted to go to him, comfort him, push it away, protect him from his own family. I wanted to do what he’d been doing for me this whole time.

  His voice was low, raw. “My grandfather is the most powerful man I know, and he wants me to return to his side.” His eyes zeroed in on me. “This is where all that ugliness connects to you.” A pause. His chest lifted, held, then lowered.

  He closed his eyes but remained absolutely still.

  “My father met yours when Peter Francis was young and starting to build his empire. He wasn’t quite there. He needed more capital, and he needed investors. My father invested. Because he got in early, yours gave up enough capital so mine was the primary shareholder. Until he died.”

  “What happened?” I moved forward now, feeling as if I had to break through a vortex around him. I moved closer. Inch by inch. Kash looked like a cornered animal. I needed to approach with caution.

  Still raw, his voice dipped. “When my parents died, those shares weren’t sold or diluted. Your father kept them, and he’s been acting in representation of me. I hold those shares.”

  I reared back. “You said primary shareholder? Is that…” Dear Lord. Did he own more than … I swallowed tight.

  A hard glint showed in his eyes. “I own more of your father’s empire than even he does.” He showed his teeth, the smile not a smile at all. And he pushed off the counter now. “I also have an inheritance from my mother that would make me the tenth-richest man in the world. My grandfather fucked up. He killed the wrong daughter. He took out the one who was smart, who knew how to invest, how to use the money she inherited from her parents, who had his talent for making money. She did it all under his nose. He never knew, until he did.” A pause.

  “It says my parents died by carbon monoxide poisoning from an accidental malfunction at a cabin. Those reports don’t detail how the head of my grandfather’s security booked a plane ticket to Aspen on the day before my parents were there. That there’s camera footage of him driving the very road to their cabin, or how he booked a late plane ticket out of Aspen the night they died.” Black humor lifted. “They went peacefully, and I’ve no doubt that was at the request of him. Because he loved my mother more than he did my aunt. It was his weakness. He could hurt my aunt all day and all night, but my mother—he respected her. It’s why he never forced her to join him. But letting her live free of him? He couldn’t do that, not when he found out how much wealth she had accumulated, because he wanted it. He still wants it.”

  “Oh, God. Kash.”

  I needed to touch him. I needed to help him.

  I was in front of him, my hand raising.

  He caught it, almost violently. I was about to touch his chest, when he moved like a snake, latching on to my wrist, and held me there. I was transfixed, my arm in the air, his hand holding it there, and we both stared at each other.

  A primal look flared. Deep. Primitive.

  I felt it in me, answering him. I was burning alive, awake. I had to touch him, and I tried again. Stepping in. Nothing. He held me in place, not letting me move an inch, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was staring at me like he was starving for me.

  “Because my mother was estranged, she had documents saying that in any circumstances, I should go to your father. I was never adopted, but they fostered me. If Peter adopted me, my grandfather wouldn’t have allowed it. His ego wouldn’t have been able to allow it. Your father raised me when he couldn’t raise you.” His nostrils closed, his eyes were smoldering. “I’m the reason you weren’t brought into the family.”

  “What?” A hole was punched inside of me.

  “When your mother told Peter about you, he told her there was danger in growing up as his child. Your mother made the choice to raise you without him. Your mom did that. Not Peter. And it was because of me. He was worried my grandfather would try to hurt Peter through his children. A bastard child for a bastard child. That’s what he thinks of me. A bastard child. So, you’re not alone in that category.”

  I felt sick.

  I tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go of me.

  “There’ve been kidnapping rings who have tried to ransom the others. That happens sometimes, when someone is as rich as your father, but the one who got the closest was with Cyclone. I destroyed them. Word got out who I was, where I came from, who I have been hiding from, learning to fight, learning how to protect myself all my life, and those hostage attempts stopped. Until you. I had your father wipe out everything on the internet about me.

  “We don’t know a ton, but we do know some. Arcane was sent by someone who knows my grandfather. We don’t know if he actually sent them. We haven’t been able to find that out, but we know there was a middleman, someone who reached out to my grandfather’s networks and who was the one to hire Arcane and his team. My grandfather blames your father for my mother’s desertion. His pride doesn’t let him consider that she stayed away because she loved a lowly middle-class investor, but a genius tech billionaire—that is someone he feels is worth being his adversary.” He tugged me closer, his hand moving to mine, and I felt him spread my fingers wide.

  Palm to palm.

  I could pull away. I didn’t.

  I turned, looking at him through our fingers aligned together.

  Pain so stark I felt it cutting off my own legs stared back at me. He was looking at me like I was his lifeline, and I was feeling the string. He was reeling me in, one tug at a time.

  He dropped his voice low again, almost a whisper. “I am not a good guy. I have grown up with the threat of my grandfather over my head. He could take me away any second. He could have me killed any moment. And I hated that feeling.” His eyes were growing cold, dead. “So I became worse. You asked me why some people know me but there are no pictures of me on the gossip sites. It’s because of your father. Any image of me that goes up is taken down within seconds. He wrote a program for it. I couldn’t fight my grandfather if everyone knew who I was. My world is in the shadows. Your world, your family’s world, is in the spotlight.”

  Another tug. Another inch.

  Our fingers entwined.

  He was staring at them instead of me. “I wasn’t there when they tried to take you, but I’m here now. I’m not leaving. I won’t let them take you.”

  A last tug. The last inch.

  His hand left my hand, sliding up my throat, circling, cupping the back of my head. His fingers moved through my hair. He applied pressure, his forehead finding his favorite spot. Our eyes were so close, too close. I was seeing inside of him.

  He sighed. “I’ve been playing with him, toying with him thinking I was returning to the family. All I was doing was stalling. I’m of age. He wants me under his control, and I’m running out of time. I was supposed to take my father’s place as shareholder, and my inheritance will come to me in three months. When all that happens, there’s no more hiding. The world will know everything about me, and it’ll be game over. He’ll know I’m not joining him, so he’ll send someone to kill me. It’s a matter of time.”

  “Kash,” I whispered. It was because of me, but I couldn’t fix it. Any of it. It was too much above my head. I was out of my league. Kash was way out of my league. “What can I do?”

  “Be with me.”

  FORTY

  He added, “If just for the night.”

  A whisper filled with so much yearning, I felt a pang in my chest. Like I was the one dying, and I answered without thinking. I stood up on tiptoe, lifted my mouth, and we were kissing. Our lips to each other.

  The night. One
night?

  I couldn’t do that. I’d need more. I already needed more.

  His lips touched mine, tingles spread through me, warming me. I surged up, getting caught up in him, just him, and he bit out a growl, tightening his hold on me. I was lifted. He was turning. I was put on the counter behind where he’d been, and he shoved my knees open, stepping in. His mouth never left mine. It only opened more, demanded more, commanded more, and I was melting into him. I was hanging on for anything, and he tipped my head, angling his head for a deeper kiss. His tongue slid in.

  I moaned.

  He caught the sound, answering with a deep groan of his own. His hands shifted down, smoothing down my back, sending sensual sensations in his trail, all the way to my ass. He gripped me there, pulling me in hard to him. And I felt him. He was hard, pressing against me, and we both paused at the feel.

  Both moaned.

  “Bailey,” he growled. “Fuck. You feel so good.”

  All those nights he crawled into my bed, tasted me, touched me, kissed me, licked me. He made me come, his fingers sliding inside of me, sometimes his tongue, and I would gasp, then explode, and in the mornings he would be gone. He never let me reciprocate. He had been waiting, and I was half worried he wouldn’t let me this time, let himself, but as he began grinding on me, I knew what he wanted.

  I was burning for it. My skin was buzzing, goose bumps all over. My blood was boiling, washing through my body, warming me until I was at a dizzying heat level.

  “Now.” I pushed my hips against him, jerking back so I was pushing off from the cupboards.

  His hand clamped on my hip, and he caught me, rocking with my motion. I was going hard, desperate, and a guttural sound left his throat as he opened his mouth, moving down my throat. Kissing. More tasting. More licking.

  He knew every inch of me, had explored there for hours at times. He knew how my pulse would flutter when he lingered over my carotid or swept down the arch of my throat. How my body would jerk and kick up when he would pause between my breasts. Tonight, though … Tonight he didn’t have the control of those nights. Tonight he was hungry and just as wild as me. His kisses were harder, more primitive. More crazy. His lips closed over my nipple as I kept my hips rubbing against him. He was pushing back, pushing hard into me, his body arched over mine on the counter.