Stepbrother Needs (His Twisted Game, Book Three) (2 page)

“Yes,” I said.
 
I turned to Jeffrey.
 
“It was good to see you, Jeffrey.
 
Take care.”
 

As I turned and headed for the door, I
let Jeffrey’s business card fall from my hand and flutter to the floor.

I was hoping that would be the last time
I ever had to see him.

But something told me it wasn’t going to
be that easy.

***

Once we were in the back of the town car,
Cole pushed up the partition so that we were alone, separated from the
driver.
 
He didn’t say anything,
and instead just turned and stared out the window, brooding.

The silence stretched between us, growing
more and more uncomfortable.
 
After
a while, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I was just about to speak when Cole
beat me to it.

“Stay away from him, Avery,” he said, his
voice a dark warning.

“What?”

“Jeffrey.
 
Stay away from him.”

“I wasn’t… I didn’t intend on talking to
him.
 
He came up to me.
 
I didn’t even know he was going to be
there.”

“Then why did you have his card?”

“He made me take it.
 
He pushed it into my hand.”

“I don’t want excuses.
 
Just stay the fuck away from him,
Avery.
 
I’m serious.”

He pulled out his phone and began
scrolling through his emails, indicating that the conversation was over.
 
My blood boiled.
 
What gave Cole the right to decide who
I could and couldn’t talk to?
 
He had
been in some kind of serious conversation with Kalia, whom he obviously had
some kind of history with.

And just because I’d talked to a couple
of men tonight – one who I hadn’t even met before, and one who I hadn’t
seen in years -- he was allowed to pull me out of there and then make rules
about what was acceptable?
 
Not to
mention what he’d done to me in the closet-- pushed his fingers up inside of
me, played with my pussy and my clit until I’d come, when just an hour before
he’d agreed that couldn’t happen again.

I was sick of it.

Cole stayed silent the whole ride back to
his apartment, and the whole time all I could think about was how I wanted to
just pack up my shit and leave.
 
Being around him was reminding me just how cocky and arrogant he
was.
 
He’d always tried to boss me
around like this we were younger, and now that he had money, he was acting even
more entitled.

When we finally pulled up in front of
Cole’s building, the driver held the car door open for us, and I stepped out
onto the sidewalk.

I hesitated, wondering if I should just
be a huge baby and pitch some kind of fit right here on the street, refuse to
go upstairs with Cole until he apologized for treating me like his property.

I stayed rooted in place as Cole stepped
out of the car.

His eyes raked up my body, moving over my
legs, my hips, and lingering on my chest.
 
 
“Tomorrow we’ll get you
some clothes that actually fit.
 
I
don’t want you walking around the city like that.”
 
He turned and began to walk toward the lobby.

“Oh, really?” I called after him, just
looking for a reason to fight.
 
“Because
you certainly didn’t mind it when we were alone in your apartment.
 
And I didn’t hear any complaints when
you pulled me into that closet a little while ago.”

He turned around, his eyes hard and cold.
“Keep your voice down.”

“Why?” I asked.
 
“Are you ashamed, Cole?
 
Afraid what people are going to think?
 
Because you sure as hell didn’t care
what I thought of you when you left in the middle of the night without saying
goodbye.”

“You keep saying that!” he growled,
walking back across the sidewalk toward me.
 
“You keep accusing me of shit when you don’t know anything
about that night, you don’t know anything about what I did!”

“Yeah, and you keep saying that I don’t
know what I’m talking about, and yet you don’t tell me anything!
 
So what am I supposed to think?”

“You’re supposed to think that I wouldn’t
have left you unless I had a damn good reason.”

“Why?
 
Because I’m supposed to trust you?”
 
I shook my head.
 
“Are you serious, Cole?”
 
  
It was true.
 
How could I really ever trust him?
 
He was totally untrustworthy.
 
I saw it growing up, in the way he would use girls for his own pleasure
before tossing them aside, how a smile and a charming word would get him out of
trouble.
 
But most of all, I knew
it firsthand, because of the way he’d left, because of the way it made me feel.

“Yes, I’m serious,” he said.
 
“You should know that – ”

But before he could finish, the door to
his building opened, and the doorman poked his head out.

“Mr. Buchanan?” he asked.
 
“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but there
was an incident while you were gone.”

“What kind of incident?” Cole asked.

“A man came to see you, sir.
 
He was very adamant about getting
upstairs.”

My heart stopped.
 
Gordon.
 
It had to be.
 
Who else would show up at Cole’s apartment?
 
He was probably looking for me.
 
He’d probably come to take me back home.
 
Either that or he’d
came
to talk to Cole.
 
And do God knows
what.

“Gordon,” I said to Cole.
 
“It had to be.”

“Come inside,” Cole said to me, and I
followed him into the lobby.

“Like I said, Mr. Buchanan, I’m sorry to
interrupt your conversation, but I thought you would want to know as soon as
possible.”
 
 
The doorman’s tone was professional and
measured, but you could sense concern under the surface – whatever had
happened tonight had definitely been out of the ordinary.

“Thank you, Graham,” Cole said.
 
“And it’s fine.
 
My conversation was over.”

I resisted the urge to scream.
 
It was good to know that I had no say
in when we were done talking about something.

“Can you tell me what he looked like?”
Cole asked.

“He was about five ten, black hair and a
mustache,” Graham said.
 
“He was
vehement that you were supposed to have left a key for him, and when I told him
you hadn’t, he asked if he could access the apartment anyway.
 
He was polite at first, but then he got
a little mouthy with me.
 
When I
told him we had security cameras and if he didn’t leave soon we’d have to call
the police, he took off.”

I frowned.
 
That didn’t sound like Gordon.
 
The physical description was
all wrong
.

“Are you sure he wasn’t taller?” I asked.
 
“With no mustache?”

“Avery,” Cole said, shooting me a warning
look.
 
But I was sick of shutting
up.
 
Gordon was a threat to my
safety too – in fact, he was probably more of a threat to me, since the
only reason Gordon even cared about Cole was because I was with him.

“What?” I asked.
 
“I have a right to ask questions, too.”

“Would you like to see the tapes, Mr.
Buchanan?” Graham asked.

“No,” Cole said at the same time I said,
“Yes.”

“Thank you, Graham,” Cole said.
 
“Please let me know if he comes back.”

“Of course.”
 
Graham nodded his head and tipped his hat with one
white-gloved hand.
 
“You can count
on us for the best security, Mr. Buchanan.”

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked as
Cole led me toward the elevator.
 
“Don’t you want to see the tapes?
 
It didn’t sound anything like Gordon, don’t you want to know who it
was?”
 

Cole mumbled something unintelligible as
we stepped onto the elevator.
 
I
wasn’t completely sure, but it sounded like, “I know
who
it was.”

“What?” I demanded.
 
“You know who it was?
 
Then who was it?”

“No one.”
 
He pushed the button for the top floor roughly,
then
watched impatiently as the numbers over the doors began
lighting up as the elevator began its ascent.

“No one?
 
It sounded like someone.”

“It’s taken care of.”

“Wait, what?”
 
I shook my head.
 
“What’s taken care of?”

The elevator dinged as we hit his floor,
and he stepped off and began making his way toward his apartment, his strides
long and purposeful.

“Cole!” I yelled, struggling to keep up
with him.
 
“Stop.
 
You need to tell me what the hell is
going on.”

“Avery, please,” he said as I followed
him into the apartment.
 
“It
doesn’t concern you.”
 
His voice was
another warning, yet again making it clear that I shouldn’t push him.
 

I stared at him for a long moment as he
walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of sparkling water, uncapped
it, and took a long drink.
 
He
loosened his tie and then pulled his wallet and keys out of his pocket,
throwing them onto the kitchen counter.
 
He picked up his phone and began typing out a text message to someone
before turning his back to me.

“Whatever,” I said, livid.
 
“I’m going to bed.”

I stalked down the hall and into the
bathroom, where I took off my dress and got into the shower.
 
Anger burned bright inside of me, and I
grabbed the shampoo and conditioner and lathered up my hair, trying to be
careful of my wrist.
 
It was
starting to feel sore again -- I was going to need to put my brace back on when
I got out of the shower.

Nice of Cole to come and check on me, to
make sure I was okay.
 
He obviously
cared about nothing but himself.

I dried off and dressed in one of the
pajama sets that Kalia had brought for me.
 
It was a soft pink strappy tank top and a pair of matching shorts.
 
It felt like an extravagant waste of
money – the pieces were well made and soft against my skin.
 
They were obviously expensive.
 
I’d never spent money on pajamas
before.
 
Why would I when I could just
wear a long t-shirt and call it a day?
 

I crawled into bed and turned off the
light, but I couldn’t sleep.
 
My
mind was racing, thoughts of Jeffrey and Cole and Gordon and the mysterious man
who’d shown up here tonight swirling through my head.
 
Who was that man?
 
And why wouldn’t Cole tell me about him?

Obviously I knew Cole had a life here, in
New York, filled with powerful people and important events and meetings and
things I knew nothing about.
 
But
why was he being so secretive?
 
Why
was a man trying to gain access to his apartment?
 

Cole’s
not a good guy, Avery.
 
No matter what
you think.

That’s what Jeffrey had said.
 
But Jeffrey wasn’t a good guy himself,
so how was I supposed to believe anything he said?
 
I pulled the expensive sheets tighter around my body, trying
to find a way to get comfortable.

I was no stranger to insomnia.
 
Starting when I was about thirteen, I’d
had a hard time sleeping.
 
To sleep
was to give up control, to let
yourself
be vulnerable,
with no protection or security. To sleep meant to let your guard down, and if
there was one thing I’d learned, it was to never let your guard down, even for
a second.
 
Because the moment you
did, there was always someone there, ready to strike.
 

And I was nobody’s prey.

My wrist was starting to throb, and I grabbed
my brace from the bathroom and tried to get it on.
 
But it was too hard to do by myself.
 
Every time I’d try to fasten it
together, one side would fall off, and my wrist hurt too much to be able to
hold the sides tight enough.