Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

It was Cox’s second. “Marty,” I said. “Where is Cox?”


“I don’t know,” he said. “I was actually just getting concerned.”

Fuck. Shit. “Remove his access privileges.”

“What?”

“Do it right now. Remove his access privileges and any other access codes he may have been aware of. Lock down everything.”

“What’s going on?”

“Do you want a raise and a promotion?”

There was a slight pause. “I understand. We’ll find him.”

“Good. I need the security footage from my bedroom and the surrounding hallways. Send it to my phone as soon as possible.”

“Understood.”

“Get your best guys on this Cox thing, Marty. I want him found.”

“I will.”

I hung up my phone and collapsed onto the bed, staring at the picture.

It had to be Cox. It had to be him the whole time. Nobody else was close enough and knew the house enough. The person that taped the picture to the front door was never found leaving the grounds, which meant maybe he had never left. Maybe he taped the picture, ditched the clothes in the furnace, and went upstairs to the security room.

Fucking shit. Cox was a traitor.

I couldn’t think of anyone else that it could be. But I didn’t understand why Cox would do this. I paid him well and treated him very well, let him have essentially anything he wanted. He’d always been loyal.

Unless he got a better offer.

Cox wasn’t doing this on his own, that was for sure. He had nothing to gain by blackmailing me. He was smart enough to know that he had more to gain by sticking around and getting close to me than by trying to coerce some money out of me. He had to know that wouldn’t end well for him, not when I had the sort of resources that I did.

Unless someone with equal resources bought him off. That was the only thing that made any sense. Cox was a loyal man, but loyalty only got you so far. Maybe he got sick of seeing me act the way I did, or maybe he just really needed more money. I couldn’t imagine his reasoning, if it really was him that did all this.

I did know who was ultimately behind all of it, though.

Bruce had to be the mastermind. He wanted to destroy me, to get rid of me. Bruce hated me more than anything. What I didn’t get was why he didn’t go right to the media with the picture of me fucking Emily and finish me off that way. Why all these veiled threats and underhanded tactics?

I couldn’t make sense of it all. There were games within games being played all around me, and I had to keep my wits sharp or else I’d stumble and lose. At least now I knew who my enemies were and could do something about it.

I stood up, groaning to myself. I had to talk to Evelyn and explain to her what was going on, and she was going to be fucking pissed. She knew that Emily and I were interested in each other, but I doubted she knew how far it had gone already. I was not looking forward to that.

Most of all, I wasn’t looking forward to showing Emily. I knew that this was going to push her away from me again, and I should have been okay with that. Maybe I was, on some level, but most of me wanted to continue what we had.

It didn’t matter. I had to do the right thing and tell them what was happening.

Even if they were going to flip shit.





21





Emily





It was a gorgeous day in downtown San Francisco. I was walking along the bay, trying not to think about the events of the day before, trying to distract myself.

I loved the way the light played off the water. The graceful curve of the hills across the way complemented the flat, slightly rolling way the water moved along the land. I walked slowly at first then faster and faster as I began to realize that I couldn’t outrun my memory.

That image was haunting me. Carter looked like he was in physical pain as he showed it to me, like it was the most difficult thing he had ever done or something like that. I couldn’t believe someone had gotten a photograph of the two of us sleeping together and was now threatening him with it, but everything pointed toward this being a real dangerous situation. The memory of that dog head came back to me in that moment as I looked at the picture, and everything seemed to click into place.

There was a real menace, a real attack happening, and I was at the center of it. Really, Carter was at the center, but our relationship was an important aspect of that. I was the reason that he was being blackmailed so easily, that things were crumbling apart. Mom didn’t seem to blame me and wasn’t angry with me, but I could tell that she was disappointed. She was angrier with Carter, and for good reason.

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