“You’ve got a picture of him? Can I see?”

  Mouse turns at Virginia’s voice. “Sure.”

  I doubt anything will come of it. Virginia can’t know all of Ralph’s victims’ families after all. But it can’t hurt. So, I put my arm around her, and lead her to Mouse.

  “What are—”

  My question to ask Mouse what he’s going to try next has to be swallowed back when glancing downward, I see Virginia’s gone completely pale.

  “What is it, sweetheart?” I can feel her shaking.

  “You’ve got to be mistaken.” Her voice shakes as she stares at Jaxon. “This man?” She indicates Mouse should show him the screen again.

  “I’m not mistaken.” To his credit, Jaxon is looking concerned. He pulls himself to his feet.

  “You know him?” he asks, at the same time as me and Mouse.

  “That’s not Brown. That’s Branston Schniffner.”

  I meet Wizard’s eye. All of a sudden, it becomes important to know how she recognises the man who put the hit out on her.

  Virginia’s wringing her hands. She looks unsteady so I tighten my arm around her. “How do you know him, sweetheart?”

  She glances at me, and I see tears leaking from her eyes. “Branston’s my brother-in-law.”

  I suck in air. I knew she didn’t get along all that well with her sister, but for her sister’s husband to set her up to be kidnapped, abused and killed? No wonder Virginia looks on the verge of collapse.

  All the blood has drained from her face. Her eyes are like orbs. She gives a vicious shake of her head. “You’re wrong.” She glares toward Jaxon.

  Jaxon denies it with a gesture. “That’s definitely the man I know as Brown.” There’s no doubt in his tone.

  The man stirring up trouble for Virginia is no stranger to her.

  He’s married to her sister.

  What the fuck?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Virginia…

  I stare in disbelief at the image on the laptop Mouse is holding. I want so much for Jaxon to say he’s mistaken, but instead, he’s adamant the man front and centre of the group standing outside the courthouse on the day of Ralph’s sentencing is my brother-in-law.

  I hadn’t been there. I saw no reason why I should go. But equally, Branston too had no legitimate business in attending.

  My sister and I didn’t have a particularly close sibling relationship. I was the eldest by a good few years, and she was the hoped-for child that my parents, after many failed attempts, had given up on. When they’d gotten their miracle, their views on parenting had completely changed. They’d raised me strictly. She was, in my view, spoiled and given leeway that had never been offered to me.

  While I was encouraged to keep up my grades, with privileges withheld if I dropped below straight As, they turned a blind eye to her lack of interest in studying and her preference for partying. While I became a college professor, she’d only managed to scrape her GED.

  Ronny, short for Veronica, had assumed I’d had it easy, that what I achieved by hard work had fallen into my lap. I, in turn, had envied her for her carefree existence, and a teenage life that had been beyond my dreams. Ten years younger than me, she was the indulged baby of the family. Her name was shortened, where no derivative had ever been used for me.

  Still, we were sisters. There was a blood bond between us. We’d both grieved the loss of our parents.

  Never having much in common, we’d done only the minimum to stay in touch. But I still expected her to be on my side when Ralph’s crimes had been revealed. It had hurt me that she had not. She’d argued someone as clever as me had to have known what he was doing.

  “You’re absolutely certain?” Mouse asks in clipped tones. “Branston didn’t have a twin or anything?”

  I wish I could clutch at straws, but there’s no room for error in my recognition. I swallow an agonised sob and respond with an uplift of my chin.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Marvel states. “Virginia…” His voice trails off.

  There’s nothing to say. The man apparently behind the death threats to me, is who I considered to be family. It was one thing for them not to believe me, but to want to cause me harm? That’s something I can’t get my head around.

  “Why the fuck would he do this?” Wizard steps up, peering over Mouse’s shoulder as if the image of my brother-in-law would reveal a motive.

  “I don’t know.” My voice sounds weak. My answer is lame, but I have honestly no idea why my sister’s husband would be the man setting up Jaxon to kill me. Would he have really come to finish the job himself?

  Does my sister hate me so much? We might not have been close, didn’t have much in common, didn’t share makeup or hair tips or go on shopping trips together, but I’d have said I’d loved her.

  This can’t be true, can it? But there’s no doubting that man in the picture is Bran. The man who my sister vowed to love forever.

  “Let’s take this to my office,” Wizard suggests. “We can thrash out what this means there.”

  What this means is that I’ve lost the only family I’ve got.

  I become conscious that the storeroom has been emptying. The women have mostly all gone, presumably along with their men. Hawk, Throttle, Hound, Wizard, Mouse and Marvel are the only ones remaining.

  Oh, apart from Jaxon, who’s on his feet now, unrestrained and from what I can see, unharmed. He’s looking at me with a mixture of pity and horror.

  “Let me get this clear,” Jaxon starts, his eyes zeroing in on me. “Brown, or this Schniffner guy as you’re calling him, never experienced what I had to go through. The knowledge that someone close to him had their body defiled.”

  “No.” I’m trying to work this through in my own mind. I splay my hands. “The only connection is that he’s married to my sister.” The idea that Bran could hate me so much as to want me dead makes me feel sick. “I don’t understand,” I continue. “I always got on with her husband okay. Well, he wouldn’t have been one of my chosen friends, but we made polite conversation.” I force my mind back. “I never got the impression he didn’t like me. He seemed to get on with Ralph alright.”

  “Your sister?” Marvel asks me. “How do you get on with her?”

  “About the same. You can’t choose family, can you?” I wince slightly, remembering he has, so correct it to, “Blood family, that is. She’s ten years younger than me, brought up differently. She was into makeup and clothes while I was focused on getting my education. We’ve nothing in common. Maybe it would have been different if I’d had kids—they’ve got a girl and a boy. But we’ve never had anything to bond over and meeting up was done mainly for form’s sake rather than anything else. But I never thought she envied me, or had an actual dislike.” I lean into Marvel, drawing on his strength. “She sided against me when Ralph’s crimes came to light, but I never expected…” My voice trails off. Who’d think their sister would want them harmed, whatever they’d done? My eyes are watering. I had no idea my sister and her husband hate me so much. “What’s going on, Marvel?”

  I have no idea why I’m asking him. If I don’t comprehend anything, it’s unlikely he can.

  It’s Wizard who answers me. “Leave it to us to figure out.” He raises his chin toward the man at my side. “Take care of your woman, Brother.”

  “Come on,” Marvel says into my ear. “Let’s get you out of here.” His arm puts pressure on me as he tries to lead me away.

  Literally digging in my heels, I hold back. “Jaxon—”

  “Will be fine,” Wizard states. His eyes rise and I suspect over my head they’re meeting those of the man under discussion. “I have a feeling Jaxon and our interests might coincide.”

  Jaxon’s firm voice sounds from behind me. “I think we’re on the same wavelength.”

  When I turn to look at him, he gives me a confident nod. I may be imagining things, but he doesn’t look quite as beaten down as he had earlier, almost as if he’s been given a new target for his remorse. I suppose that he has.

  “Come on,” Marvel repeats. Then he plays on my sympathy. “I’m going to crash if I don’t get more painkillers.”

  It’s not just a ploy. His greyish tinge shows just how much pain he’s in. Knowing I can’t do anymore about Jaxon, and have nothing to add about Bran, I let him lead me out. As Hound puts a comforting hand on my shoulder in passing, I feel a wave of emotion. I’m done with being pitied. I’ve had enough to last me for the rest of my life.

  Marvel is silent as he leads me along the pathway that leads to his suite while too many thoughts are chasing themselves through my head, so fast, it’s hard to grab on to one long enough to express it.

  I notice nothing, neither the sun beating down on my head, nor the cacti that line our way. When Marvel comes to a halt, I bump into him, not having realised we’ve arrived.

  Opening the door, he ushers me into his suite.

  He wasn’t lying about his head as he goes straight to the kitchen, grabs a bottle of water, then downs two tablets in one swallow. He massages his temples.

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell him.

  “What the fuck for?” His fingers pause mid motion.

  “The mess of my life and that I’m dragging people into it.”

  In two short steps, he’s standing in front of me, his palms resting on my cheeks. “It’s not your fuckin’ fault.”

  “Then who else’s?” I cry. “First my husband, now my brother-in-law.” I step back away from his hold. “I don’t know why they’ve done what they have. I don’t understand.”

  He sighs. “No fuckin’ normal person would, Virginia.”

  “Why?” Now my cry is a plea for him to give me a reason I could comprehend.

  This time when he approaches, his arms come around me so tightly, I’ve no chance of getting away. “Why, is what Wizard and Mouse are going to try to figure out.” He looks at me carefully. Once he sees the fight’s left me, he releases one of his hands and brushes back my hair. “You didn’t get any rest earlier. We’re both running on fumes. Let’s go lie down.”

  I am tired. My own head is throbbing, both from lack of sleep and from discovering the man who apparently wants me dead is part of my family. Listlessly, I follow Marvel into the bedroom and watch as he removes his cut and reverently lays it over a chair. Then, after kicking his boots off, he eases down on the bed. He holds out his hand in invitation.

  I lie down beside him and am immediately enfolded in his arms. Feelings of warmth and safety surround me, and I close my eyes.

  Marvel’s breathing evens out almost immediately. As I feel his chest rising and falling, my lungs start to move in sync with his. While I would have said my worries would have kept me awake, I must be exhausted. Before too long, my brain switches off.

  When something wakes me, I’m aware that evening has fallen, and that I must have slept for a few hours. The warmth that surrounded me has disappeared, but a flushing sound lets me know the reason I’m alone, and what must have awakened me.

  “Sorry,” Marvel murmurs, sliding back into bed once again. “Tried to be quiet but needed to piss like a fuckin’ racehorse.”

  My bladder makes its presence known in sympathy. I slide out of the bed and go to the bathroom myself. When I return, it’s to see Marvel leaning back on the pillows, his hands propped behind his head. He’s switched on the small light on the bedside table and is staring at me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Admiring my ol’ lady. Who happens to be fuckin’ beautiful.”

  “I think you need glasses.” Self-conscious, I smooth my hands down his shirt I’m still wearing, and suck in my stomach. My hair must look like shit having slept on it.

  “Don’t need glasses to see how gorgeous you are.” He beckons me toward him. When I’m close, he grabs my hand, tugs, and tumbles me down onto the bed. He looms over me. “I don’t ever want to go through anything like I did yesterday when you were missing, and I didn’t know what the hell was happening to you. I’ve claimed you, babe. You know what that means?” His eyes are intense as they stare down at me and his mouth twists. “You’re mine. And I’m yours. Got a ton of things to sort out, but one thing I know, we’re never going to sleep apart again.” As I open my mouth, he qualifies it, “We can stay here, or in your house. But I tell you, babe, if it’s there, then I’m gonna have a top-of-the-line security system installed before we go back.”

  I don’t care where we are, I’m not wedded to my house. It might contain my stuff, but it’s not felt like a home—mainly because there was no one to share it with. But I’ve got too much stuff to fit into Marvel’s two rooms.

  “We kind of jumped into this without working out the basics,” I agree.

  “Basics? Oh, I think we’ve got that covered, babe.” He leans in and plants a kiss right on my mouth, then backs up and a suggestive look comes into his eyes. “We can fuck just fine. All we gotta decide is where we do it. Your place or mine, or we get somewhere new, together. Details, babe, that’s all they are.”

  Haven’t we got more urgent things to talk about? “Branston—”

  “Fuck Branston. You leave him to us. Babe, you don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

  My bottom lip trembles. “He wants me dead.”

  “He’s not going to get what he wants, babe. I promise you that.” His hand caresses my cheek. “Right now, I think it’s time I claim my ol’ lady.”

  I’d have said nothing could have taken my mind off the fact that my sister’s husband was behind the plot to murder me, but when Marvel’s fingers glide up beneath my t-shirt and find my nipples, it seems my body’s got other ideas.

  Why let my brain stay focused on something I can’t change or help? Bran’s plan hadn’t worked—I’m here, and Marvel’s alive.

  As my muscles clench and Marvel’s ready cock lies heavy against my thigh, I want to celebrate that we’re together despite all the odds. Looking at him carefully, I see sleep has helped him regain some colour.

  “How’s your headache?”

  “What headache?” He chuckles. Leaving my nipples momentarily, his hands move to the bottom of my shirt and start inching it up.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Marvel…

  I’ve got a feeling that making love with my old lady is never going to grow old. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing to do when I’d been knocked over the head, but my cock didn’t give a damn, just needed to get inside her and claim her.

  We fit together so well, as if we’re made for each other.

  After giving her three orgasms, I’d worn her out, and only just stopped myself from passing out beside her, but I’ve things to do.

  Leaving her sleeping, I make my way down to the clubhouse. As I expect, I find Wizard and Mouse still in the prez’s office. What I am surprised to see is Jaxon is also there.

  Entering after my knock gains me permission. I raise an eyebrow as I notice there’s a spark of interest in Jaxon’s eyes which wasn’t there before, and I have to wonder what put it there.

  “You look better.” Prez waves me to a seat.

  I refrain from saying that’s what good sex will do for you. I also hold back my comment that Wizard and Mouse both look in need of a rest themselves. While I’ve been sleeping and satisfying my lady, they’ve obviously been working for hours. Instead, I ask what I’m burning to know.

  “Got anywhere?” I take the chair I’ve been directed to.

  Mouse is perched on Wizard’s desk, both alternating between staring at the screen and glancing at Jaxon, while I’m still wondering why he’s free and making himself at home in Prez’s office.

  “Found your woman has the worst luck in the world, Brother.” It’s Mouse who answers.

  Knowing there’s more to come, I quirk an eyebrow. “Kind of gathered that when we found her brother-in-law was trying to get her killed.”

  “Yeah, well.” Wizard sits back and links his hands behind his head. “She say much about her sister?”

  I shrug. “Only heard what you heard, that she was younger, unexpected and spoiled. Their parents are gone, and the sisters don’t have much to do with each other.”

  Wizard gazes upward as he digests my response. “Seems like the younger sister might be jealous as fuck of your old lady. Or at least her husband is. They jumped on the bandwagon when Roberts went down.”

  Again, my brow rises. Mouse leans over Wizard, taps on the laptop, then turns it in my direction. I see a brand name blazoned across the page. It’s one of those obscure online magazines that you find referenced on social media. The type that any sane person usually would be suspicious of the sensationalist content. Click bait, I think they call them.

  My eyes zero in on the article Mouse has found. No matter how much I’d probably scroll by, the article would no doubt attract many readers.

  The Stuff of Nightmares reads the headline. Underneath is a very embellished account of how Veronica and Branston had always suspected something was off with her sister’s marriage. It even goes so far as to suggest some of Ralph’s victims might not have been dead at the time they first came under his eye and alludes to suspicions that he might have hastened their exit from the world. There’s even a hint that Virginia might have helped him.

  My face reddens and my fingers curl into my hands as I read lie after lie. Ralph hadn’t gone down for murder, whatever the rumours say. I might not have much faith in the cops, but I’m sure if there was anything of that nature to find, they’d have discovered it. As for Virginia being a murderer herself, well that’s just plain ridiculous.

  “Virginia knew nothing of this?”

  “She can’t have,” I reply to Mouse. “But then she had her own problems with the press and was trying to keep her head down. She closed her social media accounts This is all complete rubbish…” I point to the bit where Ralph had apparently admitted to Branston that what he’d been doing had spiced up their sex life.

  “That’s where the rumours started.” Jaxon speaks for the first time. “And this isn’t all. They,” he dips his head toward the two tech guys, “have tracked other articles down.”

 

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