Chapter 19: Chapter 18

THE DRIVE to Oak Grove Hills took a little over two hours. Saylor Woodson was my kind of road tripper. She appointed herself the DJ, and we had similar taste in music. A lot of country and a few good old-school 90s rap songs.

She was a fabulous navigator, even if she repeated everything the Google Maps woman had already said.

Her choices in snacks were pretty lame, but my stomach was gurgling from all the shit I’d eaten, so she was clearly a hell of a lot brighter than me.

We’d talked about the book signing yesterday, Romeo and Demi’s upcoming wedding, and she’d asked endless questions about the new renovation I was currently working on out at the Halseys’ ranch.

I pulled into a fancy-ass gated subdivision and got in line to check in with the guard. I leaned forward to take in the giant mansions that stood beyond the gates.

“Wow. I know you said he married a woman with money, but these are outrageous, right?”

She chewed on her thumbnail. She’d gotten quieter in the last few minutes since we’d exited the freeway. “Yeah. I’ve never been here, so I don’t know.”

I glanced over at her. “Hey, relax. You’ve got this. If it sucks, we’ll bail.”

“Okay. I like that idea.” She looked out the window when a car moved through the gates, and we pulled up closer to check in. “Maybe we should have a code word.”

“Like a safe word?” I waggled my brows, and she chuckled.

“Sure. If it’s not going well, we can say the word to let the other one know we need to leave.”

“Hmmm… what’s a good safe word? Titties? Pussy? Orgasm?” I said, and she shook her head as her cheeks flamed pink.

“It’s our turn, Casanova.” She pointed for me to move forward.

“Hello, sir. May I ask who you’re here to see today?” the guard, who was dressed in a military-looking outfit, asked.

“Yes, you may. We’re here to see the Woodsons. I’m King, and this is Saylor,” I said as he stepped back from the car and made his way toward the small guard shack. He picked up the phone and spoke to someone before returning with a card for me to put on my windshield.

“They’re expecting you,” he said, completely void of expression.

“I would hope so. They’re in for a real treat with this one.” I thrust my thumb at Saylor and winked at her. “So, what are they like? Are they any fun? Can you give us a little insight?”

“King, stop,” Saylor said over a fit of laughter as she squeezed my arm and waved at the guard.

The dude surprised me when he lifted his sunglasses and leaned down. “They are an interesting bunch. Have a nice time.”

I saluted him as I drove through the gate and followed the GPS through the swanky-ass neighborhood. It pissed me off that their father had this kind of money, and he hadn’t stepped up when they’d been removed from their home. He hadn’t helped pay for Saylor’s college education or done anything to support Saylor or Hayes since the day he’d left, outside of paying the minimum child support. I knew she was thinking it, too. Hearing that someone had a lot of money and seeing it with your own eyes were two completely different things.

I needed to lighten the mood because I could feel the tension radiating from her hot little body. “Okay. What’s our safe word?”

“How about Beefcake? You can say it when you cough like, Beefcake,” she said over a muffled cough, which made me laugh.

“He’d be honored to be our safe word.” I turned left per the directions.

I pulled in front of the palatial palace that Donald Woodson called home. The bastard lived like a fucking king.

“Wow. This place is huge. That’s a six-car garage, and the front porch looks like something out of a gardening magazine,” she said as we both got out of the car, and I reached for her hand on instinct. I knew she was nervous, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

“I don’t know. It’s a little too neat. Too perfect. If I say Beefcake, you need to trust me, and we both agree to get the fuck out of this place, okay?”

She chuckled again, and I loved that I always knew how to help her relax.

“Thanks for coming with me, King.” Her voice was just above a whisper. When we walked up the three brick steps leading to the grand entrance, we both turned as a cloud of smoke was coming from a few feet away, and a strong smell of marijuana wafted around us.

“Are you the infamous Saylor?” A dude sitting on an Adirondack chair who’d just released another round of potent weed raised a brow.

He wore dark skinny jeans, a black hoodie, and black military boots. His hair was jet black and hanging over one side of his face, and his skin looked like he hadn’t seen daylight since… birth. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and the porch looked like some sort of Norman Rockwell painting. Yet, this dude stood out like a sore fucking thumb rocking his best Addams family look.

“Um, yes, hi. I’m Saylor, and this is my friend, King.” She moved toward him, extending her hand in greeting.

He didn’t realize she was going for the handshake, and he quickly offered up his joint. “I’m Phoenix. You want a hit? It’s some damn good shit.”

“Oh, no. I’m good. All smoked out for the day.” Saylor chuckled, clearly trying to play it cool, which made me laugh. She wore a white tank top and a long, flowing floral skirt that came to her ankles. She looked gorgeous, like she’d fit right in this picture-perfect home, minus her half-brother who’d clearly just arrived from the pits of hell.

“You look like a dude who can hang. You want in?” He flung his head to the side so the stiff piece of hair covering his eye shifted a bit as he looked me over.

“I’m all set for now.” I smirked.

“All right,” he said, looking back at Saylor. “I guess you’re my long-lost sister, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, here’s a tip, sis. The people behind those doors—they’re a lot, so buckle up. Destiny is a real piece of work, but she’s the one who pushed for this meeting, and what Destiny wants, Destiny gets.” He took another hit, and I was fairly certain I had a secondhand high from standing this close to Puff the Magic Dragon.

“Thanks for the tip,” she said, taking a step back. “Are you coming inside?”

“As soon as I’m fully high and chill enough to enjoy the show.”

I raised a brow. What the fuck were we walking into?

Saylor held up a hand and gave him a slight nod as we walked toward the door. I leaned down close to her ear. “Is it too soon to say Beefcake?”

She swatted my chest as she rang the bell. “I’ll take a pothead over a haughty snob any day of the week.”

The door opened, and a man wearing what looked like a tuxedo stood in front of us. “Welcome. Do come in. May I take your hat, sir?”

“That’s a hard no. I like to keep everything I arrived with on my body in case I need to make a quick exit, you know?” I chuckled, and the older man just gave a curt nod while Saylor tried to cover her laugh.

She glanced at me as she stepped inside, and I followed. The entry was grand, with black-and-white marble flooring that must have cost a pretty penny. As a contractor, I knew what materials like this would run someone, and I’d never seen an entryway that was quite this large or grand. There was an oversized round table in the middle of the foyer with a large floral arrangement sitting on top and an enormous crystal chandelier hanging overhead.

“Is that my little girl?” A man came around the corner wearing a colorful polo shirt with pink flamingos all over it. His dark hair was thinning on top, and he pulled her into a hug. “Saylor, look at you. You’re so grown up.”

That’ll happen when you don’t see your kid for over two decades, dickhead.

“Hey, Dad,” she said awkwardly, and I noticed the way her body stiffened as he held her there.

I extended my hand as I narrowed my gaze and studied him. “I’m King. I’m a good friend of both Saylor and Hayes.”

The dickweasel loosened his hold on her and extended his arm. I quickly assessed the fact that his hand was soft and completely lacking any signs of ever doing an ounce of work. I intentionally squeezed harder than usual and noticed the way he winced, and I internally patted myself on the back.

He was a weak motherfucker, no question there.

I was here for Saylor. This was important to her. But that didn’t mean I had to like the asshole. I knew the pain he’d caused. I knew he was a piece of shit. I just hoped she’d figure it out, too.

A clacking against the marble floors had me dropping his hand as we all turned to see a girl walking our way with her eyes set on Saylor. She looked to be about sixteen years old, maybe younger; it was hard to tell with all the makeup she was wearing. Her blonde hair hung down to her waist, and she wore a black short skirt and tall heels that made her look like she was playing dress-up. But it was the white tee that read DESTINY in capital letters across her chest, along with the bright pink fur coat around her shoulders, that caught my eye. What was with the clothing choices of the people in this home?

“Is this her?” She snapped her fingers in her father’s face before shouting in a painfully high-pitched, loud voice that would have any dog in a ten-mile radius running for the hills. “I said, is this her!”

Saylor glanced at me, and I leaned against her ear, whispering with a desperation that she wouldn’t be able to miss. “Beefcake.”

Of course, she ignored me. So much for safe words.

“Yes, Destiny. This is Saylor. Your older sister.”

“Hi,” Saylor said, startling a bit when Demon Barbie began circling her.

“I know. And I have to say, she’s exactly what I hoped she’d be,” Destiny said before pausing to tug hard on Saylor’s hair.

“Ouch,” Saylor gasped, and I moved forward to stand between them.

“What the fuck was that?” I hissed.

“Oh, look at you. She brought some man candy. Can I call you Daddy, big boy?” the little tyrant asked. I was in some sort of twilight zone because Donald Woodson just smiled like this was perfectly normal behavior.

“Absolutely not. And if you touch her head again, I will have no problem doing the same to you.”

Destiny made this odd growling noise and then ran her long, sharp nails along my chest like a motherfucking cat in heat.

“Easy, boy. I was just seeing if she had extensions in her hair. I’m impressed that’s all yours, sis.”

Saylor looked completely shell-shocked as she stared at Destiny with confusion. “Yeah. This is my hair. So, let’s not pull it again, okay?”

“Oh, she’s not the passive wallflower you described, Donald.” She shot a look at her father, and normally I’d be wondering why she’d called him by his first name, but this girl was definitely beating to her own drum, so it wasn’t too surprising at this point.

“I asked you to call me Dad when we have company.” Donald shook his head and smiled like his evil spawn didn’t just assault everyone in the room. “Come and have lunch. Constance has a nice meal planned for us.”

I took Saylor’s hand in mine as we followed them through the house, passing what looked like a grand library and a formal living room before stopping at a dining room that was fit for the royal family.

The tuxedo dude was standing there, and Donald asked him to let Constance and Phoenix know that lunch was being served.

The table was set with what I assumed were expensive plates and cutlery, accompanied by crystal glasses. I was hoping for a burger or some chicken fingers, but I had a hunch that lunch was going to be something very different.

“You’re sitting there.” Destiny pointed to a chair and motioned for Saylor to take her seat. And when I moved to the chair beside her, Destiny fisted my tee in her freakishly sharp fingernails. “No, Daddy. You’re on the other side of me. I’m sitting between you two.”

She turned around to pull out her chair, and Saylor’s eyes widened as she looked at me, and I mouthed the word Beefcake for a second time since we’d arrived.

I wanted to get the fuck out of here, and I was grateful that she hadn’t come here alone, because this was proving to be the palace from hell.

“Hello, you must be Saylor.” A woman who looked like an older version of the terrifying teen beside me approached the table.

“Hi. Yes, I’m Saylor, and this is my friend, King.”

“I’m Constance. Thank you for coming. This was very important to my Destiny.” She took her seat across from Saylor just as Puff the Magic Dragon came skateboarding into the dining room with a cloud of reefer surrounding him.

I leaned forward and met eyes with Saylor, and she gave me that look I knew all too well.

What the fuck is happening?

She wanted to stay, so I was going to try to enjoy myself. Our glasses were filled with water, and they’d offered wine and champagne, which both Saylor and I declined, because, well, it was noon, and we were definitely getting the hell out of here as soon as possible.

The first course was served by not one, not two, but three women in full black-and-white uniforms. They set down a plate with some weird-ass orange goopy-looking eggs on top of a piece of salmon.

“Enjoy your salmon and caviar,” one of the women said, and I used my finger to flick the orange shit off the salmon.

Destiny raised a brow and smirked. “So, are you dating my sister?”

“Yes. We’re very serious. Marriage is definitely in our future.”

Saylor put a hand over her mouth and turned her attention to Constance, who was snapping her fingers to get us all to look her way.

Apparently, snapping was the way they communicated in this hellish place.

“You are your mother’s daughter, aren’t you? You don’t resemble your father at all,” Constance said, and the way she spoke to Saylor rubbed me wrong. Hell, who was I kidding? This whole experience rubbed me wrong.

“She does look like Stella, but she’s got my eyes,” Donald said proudly, as if it was his claim to fame, or as if he’d had anything to do with the beautiful girl that he’d abandoned.

“She has my eyes!” Destiny shouted, and everyone startled.

What was with the fucking outbursts?

When her fists hit the table, some of her pink fur detached from the coat and fluttered around me. I waved my hand around to push it away as I coughed over a little piece that had gotten into my mouth.

“I actually think I look the most like my brother, Hayes,” Saylor said. “So, tell me, why has it taken so long for us to all get together?”

Ahhh… the million-dollar question.

Finally, a voice of reason.

Donald paled a bit, but Constance looked unfazed, though it could be her overly injected face because it lacked all expression. Her eyebrows hadn’t moved since she’d entered the room and her lips were so plump they looked painful.

“We’ve just been living our lives, dear. But Destiny was determined to meet you.”

I looked up to see Phoenix looking at me with a wicked smirk. He’d warned us to buckle up, and clearly, he’d meant it.