It takes me a few moments to find the stairs and even longer to reach the base of them.
Then I walk through the living area, looking around and wondering if I’m somehow trapped in a ghost house.
The lack of noise in such a huge place raises the hairs on the back of my neck and I hold Tiger tighter.
Now would be a good time for Creighton to show himself.
Unless he disappeared before I woke up to save me the embarrassment of asking me to leave?
My heart squeezes at that thought and I promptly shove it back into the abyss of my soul.
“Who do we have here?”
I flinch and so does Tiger. He jumps from my hands and hisses at the newcomer, tail up, body curved, and ears back.
Eli stares down at him as if he were nothing more than dirt on his shoes, and then the strangest thing happens.
Tiger tucks his tail and runs to hide. Did he just scare him away with a look?
“I’m not that popular with animals.” He smiles at me, but there’s not an ounce of honesty or welcoming feeling behind it.
He leans against the wall, a slaughtered buffalo head hanging above him, giving him a gruesome edge. His expression and aura conflict with the classy way he’s dressed. Pressed black pants, elegant button-down, and stylish Italian loafers.
He could walk into a shoot and the photographers would drop to their knees to have him in their lenses.
“Hi,” I say, trying hard as hell to sound casual and not at all intimidated by him.
If only Creighton would show up right now. Not that he’s any better than his brother, but the devil you know and all that.
“Annika. If I remember correctly, we have an unfinished conversation.”
Right. Back at the fight club when Ava went for his throat and Creighton kidnapped me. I wish those two were around at this moment.
But since they’re not, I’m about to force a smile but recall how Creighton told me I don’t owe the world anything, so I ask in a calm tone, “What did you want to talk about?”
“One, your relationship with my brother. Two, your relationship with your brother. Three, how it’ll be a bad idea if you one day have to choose and you pick your brother and leave my brother behind. I’ll take it personally and do everything in my power to destroy both of you.”
My spine jerks at the amicable way in which he issues threats. His voice sounded suave, absolutely eloquent, as if he were a BBC News anchor.
“I won’t hurt Creighton,” I manage to reply calmly, assertively. “And Jeremy isn’t the monster you make him out to be. He won’t brutalize Creighton just because I’m with him.”
“Do all these delusional thoughts help you sleep better at night? We both know your dear Jeremy is capable of more than that. So how about you take the easy way out before the shit hits the fan?”
“With all due respect, you have no right to intervene between Creigh and me. And I’m not leaving.”
I realize that Creighton and I have a long way to go and that the brutal fucking from last night after he revealed a bit of himself is only the beginning, but I don’t mind.
I like myself with Creighton, I like the way I’m more outspoken and less of a people pleaser. And I want him to like himself when he’s with me, too.
For that, I’m willing to do anything.
Eli watches me for a beat, his gray eyes looking almost black. And while I want to run and hide, I force myself to maintain eye contact, to meet his stare with one of my own.
“Very well.” He pushes off the wall. “I’ll keep my eye on you.”
“I’ll keep my eye on you, too.”
“Oh?” He smiles like a wolf, head cocked to the side. “What for?”
“For whenever you think it’s a good idea to intervene.”
His smile widens. “No wonder Creigh chose you when he never had interest in anyone before.”
Fire erupts in my belly, but it’s the good type, the type that warms me from the inside out.
I flip my hair back and can’t help but grin. “I’m special like that.”
“Arrogant, too. I see why you’re friends with her.”
“Who’s her?”
“Never mind.”
He’s about to leave, but I step in his way. “Can I ask you something?”
“I only take questions on Sundays. Like the church.”
“Today is Sunday.”
“Lucky you,” he says with that permanent smirk and I pause, thinking maybe I’m missing something, but then I promptly let it go.
I inch closer to him. “Do you know when Creigh got his spider tattoo?”
This is my attempt to frame the time he realized he was still haunted by his childhood memories, despite having a family. No matter how much he denies it, I know what happened in his childhood has an effect on him one way or another. I didn’t get the chance to ask him due to all the fucking that he must’ve used to shut me up, but I can fish for information from Eli.
“In secondary school. High school to you Americans. It’s a memento to the younger version of him.”
“You…knew.”
“That he’s adopted? Of course. Everyone knows.”
Oh. How come no one told me? Maybe it’s a close-circle thing and I don’t belong there. Although I’m slightly hurt, I decide to focus on a much more pressing issue.
“Do you also know of his…past?”
“There’s nothing I can tell you about it aside from what he divulged.”
“I just want to know if he became the way he is due to that.”
“The way he is?”
“I’m sure you know he’s a…sadist.”
He grins. “Proud of him.”
Of course he is. Now, I’m starting to understand why Ava calls him He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.
Eli is an anomaly.
But maybe he’s the type of brother Creighton needed while growing up with that sort of baggage.
“So?” I press. “Is he that way because of his past?”
“Maybe. Probably.”
It dawns on me then. Creighton once said that he eats too much because he was starving at a point in his life. And he probably sleeps whenever possible because of how he felt when suffocated by the gas.
When he was dizzy and crawled and crawled.
Goosebumps erupt on my skin with creepy speed, like when he was telling me the story last night.
To think that someone so young went through that makes me want to cry.
But I don’t want him to take it as pity. I really do not pity him. I just want to be there for him.
I’m apparently shit at expressing that, though, because he was offended by my words last night and took it out on my poor body.
“My turn to ask questions.” Eli’s voice brings me back to the present. “How did you coerce him to talk?”
“I didn’t.”
“Try again. He went through intensive therapy when he was a kid and has long since gotten past that phase of his life. He wouldn’t talk about it unless he was poked. So tell me, Annika. What type of poking method have you used?”
“I really didn’t. I just asked about his tattoo.”
He narrows his eyes for a beat, then schools his expression. “Huh.”
We remain silent for a moment before I murmur, “Do you know where he is?”
He cocks his head to the left. “In the kitchen.”
“Thanks.” I start in that direction, only to find out that Eli is coming with me. I choose not to comment on that in order to avoid any type of unnecessary conflict.
If I want to be with Creighton, I need to get used to Eli since he’s part of his life.
A commotion greets us as soon as we open the door.
Creighton is wearing an apron and scrolling through his phone while flour stains his hands, face, and even his pants.
Remi seems to be his coach, considering the matching aprons and his folded arms.
Across from them sits Brandon, seeming oblivious to the whole mess as he drinks his coffee and reads from a tablet.
“I’m telling you, spawn, all these recipes are stupid and wrong. How dare they compete with my lordship’s opinion?”
Bran lifts a brow. “And you happen to be an expert?
“Of course.” Remi throws his hands in the air. “I’m always right.”
“More like always wrong,” Creigh mutters.
“What the fuck? What the actual fuck, spawn? I woke up early after my shagging session last night—make that sessions—to help you with your quest and you say I’m wrong? I’m reporting you to human rights associations for abuse.”
“Here we go again.” Bran sighs.
“You shut up. Don’t go acting innocent after you started this irreparable rift between father and son. Spawn, how could you do this to me?”
“Focus,” Creigh says, still looking at his phone. “How much butter should we heat?”
“Enough to drown Remi in.” Eli strolls inside, grabs an apple from the table, and grins.
“Blimey, what’s with all the violence directed at me this morning?” Remi pretends to hold up a phone. “Hello? Witness protection? Come pick me up.”
Creighton lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine from across the kitchen before they slide to his brother and narrow. He tilts his phone away, finger pressing at the back of it as he sizes me up from head to toe and back again.
The air shifts with hungry, animalistic tension that I’m surprised no one in the room picks up on.
When he shows no intention of cutting eye contact, I swallow the lump in my throat. Focus on the others. “Hi, guys.”
Bran nods in my direction. Remi basically runs toward me and grabs me by the shoulder. “Save me from these savages, Anni. I swear they’re after my lordship’s life.”
Creigh basically tosses his phone down and reaches us in a few steps. I watch with bewilderment as he grabs Remi’s hand that’s around my shoulder, twists it until his friend groans, then throws him against the nearest wall.
“What the fuck was that for, spawn?”
“No touching.”
“Someone’s jealous.” Eli leans against the counter and nudges Brandon beside him. “Did you ever think we would witness our Cray Cray’s transformation into a caveman?”
“I predicted it since he wasn’t happy at the prospect of me becoming her fake boyfriend.” Bran takes a sip of his coffee.