“I have weapons on me. Hug gentle.”
Heather was fighting a grin but nodded and stepped in, slowly wrapping her arms around the younger woman.
The guy behind Bren snorted and started laughing. “Only you, Bren. No one puts the smackdown on Heather. The woman’s a legend.”
Heather laughed, reaching out and flicking the guy’s shoulder. “Hi, Zellman.”
He sobered, fondness softening his face. “For the record, you never have to give me a gentle hug. Ever. And definitely not from you.”
Channing took a step forward so he could see and glared. “Mine.” He stepped up, looped a hand around the back of Heather’s pants, and began pulling her backward. He repeated over her head, “Mine.”
Zellman rolled his eyes. “So overbearing. It’s not a good alpha look.”
Bren closed her eyes, slightly shaking her head. But there was a faint grin on her face as she glanced to her friend, who threw his arm around her shoulder, moving to stand behind her. She settled back against him.
“Excuse me?” James started forward. “I said what is the meaning of all this?” He took another step, but a hand came down on his shoulder, and he was jerked back into place. He tried glaring at Congo, whose hand was like a cement block on his shoulder, but Congo was impervious. The dude was like a literal human-shaped brick, bald head. And the thing was that he wasn’t even the biggest in Channing’s crew. He had another humongous human named Moose, who was given the name for a reason.
“Stay.” One word from Congo.
James looked ready to kill if he could.
That’s when I stepped forward because it was time to get this going.
Everyone quieted, knowing the real show was about to start.
James sensed the shift in the room and turned, looking and finding me. “Son.”
I opened my mouth, ready to start this thing, when a stampede of feet came from above us.
Down the stairs.
A whole different shift came over the room, a more alert, more viral, more frenzied air, and I knew who’d joined the fight.
I closed my mouth and held over the file from the PI.
Logan breezed past me, grabbed it, and went right to stop in front of our father.
He grinned. “Hey, Dad. Nice to see you again. It’s been a few days.”
I couldn’t hold back a grin because that was my brother. He had processed his shit, and now he was back. He was ready to fuck shit up.
“First off, welcome to the Getting Fucked Over by Tate Club because you, my father, are totally and moronically getting fucked over by her.”
31
Taylor
I followed him after he read through everything, saw what was going on.
The fight came back to him. He needed it. His energy was like an electrical outlet, surging and snapping and ready to strike out, needing to strikeout.
That was my man. Now he needed this type of outlet.
I sat on the stairs, able to see over everything and hear, and I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees as Logan did just what I knew he needed to do.
He took the file from Mason, striding forward.
Mason glanced around, then up, finding me. I could see the question in his gaze, looking me over, and I gave him a slight nod and smile in return. He gave me a mirrored nod before turning to what was unveiling before us.
This was Logan’s forte. It was no longer Mason’s. I saw that much in the relief in Mason’s gaze.
“—moronically getting fucked over by her.” Logan had started.
James frowned, starting forward.
Congo’s hand held him back. James was on a tethered rope, and he was allowed only so much space before it would retract back into place. Congo could not have cared less about what was happening, but his job was to hold onto James Kade until told otherwise. That’s what he was doing.
James huffed, and asked in a scathing tone, “Do you mind?”
Congo stared at him and blinked. That was all he did. He could’ve yawned, and his face wouldn’t have changed.
“You got scammed, Pops.” Logan started reading from the file. “Tate Sullivan wasn’t just fucking you. She was screwing the CEO of Import Banking. Know Carlisle Scamponi?” He held over a picture. “Recognize him? Looks a bit like Evan and Owen, right? Carlis—wait, no—your sons?” Two more images were produced, and James winced as he saw them side by side.
He paled with the first image.
He paled more with the second two.
“Also, according to this file, Tate’s been having a sexual relationship with a Benjamin William, and that will be important because guess where Billy works?” His usual cocksure smirk was firmly on Logan’s face. “The Fallen Crest Medical Labs. It’s where the paternity tests would’ve been done.”
James was as white as a sheet. A slight draft could’ve knocked him over.
Logan flipped the file around. Another picture was pinned inside. “She’s been banging him for eight years.” He stopped, pinned his dad with a stern look. “What’s she been asking for, Dad? I’m assuming money, but what else?”
James had to pull his gaze away from the pictures back to Logan.
He wasn’t so talkative now.
He blinked, his body unsteady. “I need to sit down.”
Congo and Bren moved in, both taking each of his arms and they walked/carried him into the kitchen. I had an even better view now. They put him in the chair that, if you looked up, you could see exactly where I was. The rest filed in after, and Logan glanced up, saw me, and winked.
I loved my man.
“What’s she been asking for, Dad?”
He slumped over, shaking his head. “I had a paternity test done. It came back positive. They—” His head whipped up, he went from Mason to Logan. “They look like you both!”
“Probably why she picked the guy she did.” That came from Mason, who was sounding more resigned than disgusted or pissed. “What’d she get out of you?”
“Shares. In the company. For both boys. She—she was adamant. Threatened to tell Analise about the affair, make it sound like I’d had two families behind her back. I haven’t.” He was looking at both his sons for validation. “I didn’t. I didn’t do that. I didn’t know about the boys until eight months ago.”
Eight months.
Man.
“I had the paternity tests done. They came back from the company, sealed.” His head hung back down. “She was on the phone with me, wanting me to put the boys in the will. Analise overheard. That’s how she found out. I—I was with her during those years when she would’ve given birth, but I didn’t know she’d even been pregnant. It was only a few times, that was all. After the last time, I went to therapy. I have. I...I do love Analise. We’re both flawed. I understand her, and she understands me, but this… I can’t lose her.”
“Analise is the least of your problems, Dad,” Mason clipped that out. “Did you put them in the will?”
“No. Everything blew up. I haven’t had a chance.”
“How is Helen involved?” Samantha spoke up, moving forward. Her face was set too, firm and unrelenting when James turned her way. He grimaced, visibly shaken, when he saw her.