Page 18 of Freed By Fire
A few birds fly past outside, stopping to call out to each other. With a frown, I shove the window open. But even the fresh air and the smell of freshly cut grass aren’t enough to ease the pounding in my skull or the ache in my chest.
Not when I keep seeing Oliver’s face every time I close my eyes.
It’s been ten days since Carlisle brought me the pictures, and every night since, I have woken in a cold sweat with my heart racing as I struggle to shake off the image of Oliver. Even the sight of London sleeping soundly next to me isn’t enough to chase away the demons.
How can it when I’m no closer to figuring out how to handle this?
You need to figure out what you’re going to do and do it fast. It’s only a matter of time before your father finds out.
No amount of pleading or bargaining will save Oliver’s life if our father gets to him before I do, especially not with the bounty on his head.
Sooner or later, someone will realize that Carlisle is tailing Oliver for the wrong reasons, and I need to have my story straight before then. In the meantime, each evening after dinner, Carlisle and I hole up in the study, and he gives me a full report on my younger brother’s activities.
I have no idea if the show I put on with Ryder and Noah scared some sense into him, or if he’s waiting for the heat to die down, but other than his usual routine, Oliver is keeping his head down. In the mornings, he goes to breakfast at the same diner. His afternoons are spent in museums or libraries, and inthe evenings, he visits the same bar and sits in a booth by the back, downing drink after drink.
None of it makes sense, and I’m running out of ideas to get him to confess.
A loud bang in the distance interrupts my train of thought. Sighing, I lift the glass to my lips and take a few sips while I wait for the drink to calm me. When it doesn’t do anything, I pour another drink and swirl the amber liquid.
For the umpteenth time, I wonder if I need to bring Mathew into the fold.
My twin and I rarely see eye to eye, but I have to believe that if he knew how much trouble Oliver was in, Mathew would help.
Or he’ll sell you both out for a chance to curry favor with your father. Don’t put it past him.
Where Mathew is concerned, there’s no telling what he’s going to do.
I can’t put Oliver’s fate in Mathew’s hands, not when it could mean life or death for our brother.
So, what’s your plan? Have Carlisle follow him forever? You’re not stupid enough to think that’s going to work.
After rummaging through one of the drawers, I input the code for the false bottom and wait for it to open. Then I set the pictures down on my desk and sink into the chair. I pull it closer and drum my fingers against the desk while I study the pictures. I’ve memorized all the details, everything from the tight set of Oliver’s lips to the glint in my enemies’ eyes, and I still can’t wrap my head around it.
Tormenting myself will only make things worse.
A familiar swell of rage and frustration rises within me, and it takes everything to push it back down. In the dying afternoon light, I look at the pictures again and work through the possibilities, including having Oliver taken to one of our warehouses abroad and kept there under lock and key.
I’m not crazy about the idea of allowing his disloyalty to go unpunished, but he’s still my brother, and I can’t hurt him.
Not directly, at least.
He needs to understand the seriousness of what he’s done, so you can’t ship him off and hope he gets it. What if he still causes trouble wherever he is?
My headache is pounding steadily when I reach out to put the pictures away. The clock clicks into place, and the door to the study flies open and slams into the wall behind it. Katia appears, dressed in her usual head-to-toe black, her dark eyes narrowed.
She leans over the desk with her hands clenched into fists at her side. “We need to talk.”
I lean back against the chair and cross my legs. “It seems you’ve forgotten your manners.”
Katia’s expression darkens. “You really want to talk about manners now? After what I just discovered?”
I stare at her.
Katia leans back and shakes her head. “For as long as I’ve served the family and you, it’s been drilled into me how important it is to be loyal.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Loyalty to the family,” Katia replies. “The Paynes above all else.”
