I felt a second climax nearing, and I dragged his mouth to mine.

  That was another battle. He was trying to control me. I was fighting him right back, my tongue sliding against his, invading his mouth.

  A grunt from him. His hand began kneading my thigh.

  I didn’t need him to help me stay upright. I was doing it all on my own. He was my own pole and I was working him right back.

  His free hand slid between our bodies, pushing in for room, and he found where I was throbbing the most.

  I lost it.

  I started thrashing as wave after wave hit me, searing my body, and I was shaking from that last climax.

  “You ass,” I hissed against his mouth.

  He nipped my lip. “Yeah.” Then he took control once more, holding my head prisoner, and as he owned me there, he owned the other part of me, and he came with a roar.

  I wasn’t sure who won, but there was no mistake that there’d been a full battle between us. I also wasn’t sure what either of us was fighting for, what the stakes were.

  Once his body stopped trembling, he let go of me.

  My feet hit the tile with a muted thud, and before I could muster something to say, his pants were up and he was turning. He was walking.

  The door shut a second later, a soft click, and I didn’t need to look. He was gone.

  I fell back against the shower wall, sliding down to sit, and I pulled up my knees to my chest. I had no clue what had just happened, but him leaving wasn’t good.

  FIFTY-THREE

  Bailey

  I had tugged a hoodie over my head and slipped my feet into some shoes when there was an abrupt knock on the door.

  My head lifted. I was expecting Kash, but Matt shoved through, his hand covering his eyes. “I can’t wait for permission. Tell me you’re decent, but we have to go.”

  His voice stopped everything.

  He was scared and panicked.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Can I look?”

  “Yeah.”

  His hand dropped and the terror in his eyes had me paralyzed.

  “Where’s Kash?”

  “I—What?”

  “Kash. Where is he?” Matt’s voice rose up. “Have you seen him?”

  “I—” I looked at the bathroom. “Yeah. He was just here.”

  “But he’s not now?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Where’s Ka—”

  “He’s not here!” I stepped toward Matt. “What is going on?”

  “Feds,” he clipped that word at me, some of the panic easing. “They’re here for Kash.”

  Oh no.

  “You think…” Our eyes caught and held.

  He shook his head at my question, the question that I couldn’t get out. But I noted his response and it was slow. He wasn’t sure.

  “I’m assuming our alibi will hold up unless they ask to look for the club’s security tapes,” he said.

  A whole litany of curses went through my head. I was loath to hack again. I’d been doing it too much, and too often.

  “They threatened Kash.”

  “What?” His eyebrows pinched together. “When? Threatened how?”

  “I might’ve … done something. They might’ve … I don’t know.” I looked away. I’d been so rushed that night. I’d been desperate to find Chrissy. “I don’t know if they can prove it. They’re here for Kash?”

  We had driven to the house, but we hadn’t left the car. I was able to remote hack into their system, and then we tagged a passing car with the signal. I had them following that car until it was far enough away that I knew Kash and whoever he’d gone inside that house with had time to get away.

  “There’s no way they can prove anything,” he said, almost in a daze.

  Right.

  Well.

  We couldn’t go on the run.

  “Let’s go.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s go. Let’s see what they have to say.”

  “They’re looking for Kash.”

  “I know. You told me. Like, four times.”

  “He’s not here.” It came out as a statement, but Matt was more making sure that he was correct.

  I nodded. “Yes. He left.”

  But where had he gone? He could’ve just gone to the office he used here, but this was Kash. He would’ve known the feds would come here. He would’ve had a plan.

  “Let’s just go and see. I mean, we can’t do anything else.”

  “Right.”

  Matt agreed with me, but he didn’t move.

  Neither did I.

  We had to go, though.

  I had a feeling. Dread. Something bad was about to happen; something worse.

  We walked down to the sight of my father in handcuffs.

  Agent Bright had him turned toward the door, his hands behind his back and her hand on his back. “Peter Francis, you are being arrested for cyberterrorism.”

  FIFTY-FOUR

  Kash

  “You have to appreciate the irony, right?”

  My brother was annoying me. He’d been annoying me since I slipped away from the Chesapeake, jumped in our car, and the four of us took off. Me. My brother. Josh. Scott. No one else was with us. Fitz was ordered not to leave Bailey’s side, along with four other men. We took Scott’s personal car.

  We were now walking into a cabin an hour outside of Chicago. It was remote, off the grid, and had been purchased with cash, through a third party, so there was no trail leading back to me unless people got creative with their searching.

  I ducked inside, dropping one of the backpacks in the corner, and shot him a look. “Shut up.”

  He smirked, snickering, and came in behind me with another backpack on his shoulder.

  He started to scan the interior, but a fire was blazing in me and had been the whole time.

  “Wait. No.”

  My brother stiffened, hearing my tone, and turned. I saw a wariness flicker in his eyes—and good. I liked that. I liked that a lot.

  “Chase, right?” I bit out, that flame in me just building and building.

  His eyebrows dipped low. Oh yeah. More wariness flashed and he eased back a step. He lowered his own bag, but moved slow and cautious.

  “Yeah. Chase.”

  I snorted. “Right. Chase. It’s nice to meet my fucking twin brother who’s already been a pain in my ass. And please, tell me. Enlighten me on the irony of this situation?”

  He opened his mouth.

  I clipped my head in a shake. “I don’t give a shit what you have to say, because trust me, I am fully comprehending that I had to choose you, break you out, hoping you’ll have some fucking answers for me, and all the while, the rational side of me is saying this is one huge fucking trap. Calhoun sprung this whole thing, me going on the run, me having to choose someone over the people I love, and any second he’s going to send in an attack squad for his first wave.” That’s when I dropped what little mask I was still holding on to. I reached behind me, grabbed my gun, and brought it up.

  Movement ceased in the cabin.

  Josh and Scott had been bringing in the rest of our gear, but both paused.

  Chase, my brother, went still. His eyes went to the gun, to me, and he let out a sigh. He raised his hands up. “Okay.” He was speaking cautiously now, too. “I heard it in the car. I know that the FBI went in and arrested—”

  I cocked the gun. “I know what they did.”

  He kept on as if I hadn’t interrupted him. “They arrested Peter—”

  “Again,” I growled, moving forward two steps, raising the gun higher, “I know this, you little fuck.”

  He paused, frowning slightly. “How’d you know that would happen? They threatened your woman.”

  “It was Peter’s office, Peter’s equipment, Peter’s computer. It was all Peter’s. And I wiped the room clean. The only person who’s been in there since has been Peter. They can only arrest Peter.”

  Yeah. I was a dick.

  I chose this moron over someone who was like a father to me.

  Self-disgust flared high in me.

  “You better start talking to make this all worth it, because if you don’t, I will shoot you in the head right now. I’m starting not to give a fuck about whatever you have to say,” I gritted out.

  His eyes widened.

  He hadn’t expected this from me, and that gave me satisfaction that I couldn’t even fathom trying to measure.

  I cocked my head to the side. “What? Did you underestimate me?”

  His eyes flashed.

  He had.

  This arrogant piece of shit—breaking into my home, giving me the slip, being a ghost, then appearing to try and take Bailey out from under me?

  I was seeing red.

  I snarled, my top lip curling up. “You think I don’t know your play? You’ve been on offense this whole fucking time. You think I don’t know the power in that? ’Cause you got the control. You know where I am. You know where my anchors are, because I’m always going to come back for them, for the people I love. Who do you love? Who’s your anchor? Tell me who your fucking weakness is and I’ll ghost, then try to take them out from under your watch. Let me slip away and do some fucking offensive play. You be on the defense. You tell me how that feels!” My voice was rising. “Now this last stunt? Where I’m jumping through fucking hoops to get you out? Start goddamn talking, motherfucker, or I’m going to blow a hole in your brain, then go find Grandpops and do the same to him. I’m at my end, so start. Fucking. Talking!”

  This was no idle threat. This wasn’t a bluff. I was dead serious, and my brother saw me, looked deep, and read me right, because his hands lowered and he moved back one more step. He was still cautious, but he was losing some of the smirk on his face.

  “Okay.” His voice was gentle. The smirk was gone. He was dropping the walls.

  Fin-fucking-ally.

  I placed my second hand on the gun, steadying it, and he let out a sigh as I took the position. My feet readied themselves, becoming my foundation.

  He noted that, too. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Okay. Okay. I get it. You’re done with this dance. I’ll tell you everything.”

  I didn’t move, but I waited.

  Then I arched an eyebrow. “You slow in the head? Need my guys to set a timer so you know when your time is running out?”

  At that comment, two more guns were raised and cocked.

  His hands dropped down to his sides. “Okay. Okay! Just … Jesus.”

  “You think you know me,” I started up again, giving him my last piece, and I was speaking it low and quiet, but I knew he was hearing the dark promise in my words. “You don’t. Start talking.”

  He straightened up, and all pretense was gone.

  Sitting on the edge of the couch, he leaned forward. His elbows rested on his knees, and his head was turned toward the floor.

  “All of this, everything that our grandfather has done, has been for one thing and one thing only. Money.” He lifted his head, his gaze finding mine. I saw the loathing in him. “Our mother gave you that inheritance and that’s what Calhoun has wanted this entire time. He gets his way by two methods: control and destroy. Our mother was first in power of the inheritance. He couldn’t control her, so he destroyed her. You were next, but you were a child. He wanted to first control you through women.” A mocking, bitter laugh slipped from him. “He believes they’re only good for sex or as a tool to use sex to control their target.”

  I knew all this. None of this was new.

  “You went after his assets, but you didn’t see the two assets he had in your camp, under your nose. Quinn and Victoria.”

  I knew about Victoria. Quinn? I knew she knew Calhoun, but working for him?

  “Victoria was supposed to seduce and control you. Quinn was sent in to control your environment. She targeted Peter, seduced him. She cemented her hold on Peter by having Cyclone.”

  Wait.

  I frowned. “But not Seraphina?”

  He shook his head, his features tightened, as a haunted look flared in his eyes. “Calhoun is old. He doesn’t respect women. He looks at people how he can use them, and the only use he could see for a daughter is as someone to sell for further gain later. He only believes in sons. Calhoun didn’t trust Quinn, thought that she didn’t have as much control over Peter as she claimed she did. All that changed when she had Cyclone. Only then is when Calhoun eased back and gave Quinn some freedom to just live. She brought in Victoria to seduce you.”

  My irritation was flaring. “Keep talking. As of now, none of this is surprising me.”

  Surprise flashed over his face before he covered it up. “He let me loose because he wanted me to observe you. I was to transition and take over your life. That was his plan for me. But when I got on that airplane from Thailand, I never had any intention of doing anything to harm you. I know you don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth. I’ve been living under his control until you, until you started fighting back. Then I saw my chance.”

  “Your chance?”

  Now his nostrils flared. “For freedom.” The haunted expression came back, coupled with an almost dead look at the same time. “I’m tired of hurting people. You want to keep your loved ones alive; I just want to have a loved one. I want the chance to live a normal life, as long as I can.”

  “You were going to defy Calhoun?”

  “I didn’t think it would happen, but you kept fighting him and you kept winning. He’s so far hidden and isolated right now. I’ve never seen him this vulnerable. You did that to him. He’s a cornered animal now. I made my move when I went in and took your woman’s mom from her guards.”

  Now this was new.

  “Explain why Bailey still has nightmares seeing her mother’s head getting blown off.”

  He winced. “Theatrics.”

  My nostrils flared. “Explain better.”

  “Bailey did see Chrissy, but it was a blank in the gun, and they rigged this pouch on the back of her head. When enough air punctures it, the contents inside explode. They use it in movies. Chrissy would’ve fallen forward from the impact of it, and they would’ve dragged her body out before Bailey could’ve registered what she was actually seeing. I’ve seen it. It’s … traumatizing.”

  Jesus. All that for what? Why? “Tell me more.”

  “I didn’t get to her in time. They were starting to brainwash her. They were going to use her to do something for them, and I know it’s altered her. She’ll never be the same woman, but she’s fierce. She’s strong.” Pride and respect rang from him. “I’d be damned proud to have her on my side, and she knows what side I’m on.”

  I stilled at that.

  Chrissy never said a word …

  As if reading my mind, he kept going. “We had to keep it quiet. When the feds took us in, I knew they’d release her back to the Chesapeake. And I knew they’d keep me. I tried to prolong it, give her as much time as possible.”

  “Time?” I was standing, slowly, every nerve in me stretched thin. What had Chrissy done? What was really going on? “For what?”

  “Time to turn.”

  “Turn who?”

  Chase didn’t answer right away. He waited a beat, then said the last piece, the part that I knew I’d been blind to. “The new asset.”

  “Who?”

  He didn’t answer that, but still continued. “Calhoun messed up, easing from Quinn. She started to actually love Peter, got obsessed with him. Got obsessed with never losing him. When she sent Arcane in after Bailey, she did that on her own accord, but she never got Calhoun’s permission. She was supposed to get permission to do anything. That’s how he thinks. She’s only been given the go-ahead to fuck her man and be a mom to the kids. Our grandfather got wind something was going down, ordered by Quinn, and that’s why he sent me in.”

  I was reeling.

  He was sent in?

  “Where?”

  “With Arcane, the first time they tried to take your girl. That was me. That’s why they thought Calhoun was really behind the job, why they let me in on their team. I was sent to see what they were doing. I was supposed to report back to him what Quinn was doing, but I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m the one who told Bailey that men were coming in to kidnap her. I was trying to help.”

  Bailey had reported all this to Bright and Wilson.

  “Keep going,” I grunted.

  His head dipped once. “Have you been keeping up to date with Quinn’s trial?”

  That was from left field.

  “No.” I scowled. “Why?”

  “Because Quinn made amends with Calhoun when she was arrested. They’re going to help get her acquitted. After, she’s supposed to set up a meet with you. She’s supposed to kill you, and I’m supposed to transition into your life. You asked if I was supposed to have plastic surgery to make us completely identical? I was. The surgery was supposed to happen last week.”

  “How were they going to get Quinn acquitted?”

  “They’d need to blame someone else.”

  Someone else.

  I had a feeling who that was, and I wasn’t liking it.

  “They killed the Arcane team. Every last one of them. Drew Bonham was killed a month ago. That guard, also dead. Only two people remain alive that were at Bailey’s kidnapping: Quinn and”—another beat of hesitation—“Bailey.”

  I sucked in some air because fuck him.

  Fuuuck him.

  I was getting what he was saying. I was seeing it all now.

  “They took Chrissy to set Bailey up. It was always planned for Chrissy to come back and reunite with her family, but she was supposed to be brainwashed. I got her out, but I’ll be honest, I don’t know if it was in time. She started saying to me the shit they wanted her to recite to the public, and that was that her daughter had made it all up. Everything. She was never kidnapped by Quinn. She never saw her mother get murdered. Chrissy Hayes is alive, and she was supposed to say instead that the two kidnapping attempts took a toll on her daughter. Bailey was mentally unstable, had hallucinated the whole thing.”

  The facts were all swimming in my head, getting muddied around. “But there were too many other factors that still would’ve helped Bailey’s statement.”