Zoey knew he was being generous, but she didn’t call him on it. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him as he bent his head toward her.
They were so into each other that they didn’t hear the back door open until it was too late. Mark spun around and shoved Zoey so fast, she didn’t realize what he was doing until she was behind him.
“Jeez, Malcom! You scared me,” Mark said, relief easy to hear in his voice.
Zoey’s eyes about bugged out of her head when Malcom raised a pistol and aimed it right at his twin.
“Good. You should be scared,” he said evenly.
Every muscle in Mark’s body tightened, and Zoey had a sinking feeling that Phantom’s mysterious feeling had been right on the money. Shit.
Bubba stared at his brother, his heart breaking at the realization that the person who wanted him dead was his brother. His twin. He’d been leaning toward Sean being the culprit. Not Malcom.
He held up his hands. “Easy, bro. We can work this out.”
“It’s too late for that. If you had just stayed gone, this wouldn’t be happening right now.”
“How do you figure?” Bubba asked. He needed to drag this out. The longer he could keep Malcom talking, the faster Phantom would return. Between the two of them, they could easily take Malcom down without anyone getting hurt. But at the moment, all Bubba was concerned about was Zoey. He couldn’t move without putting her at risk, and that was the last thing he was going to do.
“With you and that bitch dead, I would’ve gotten all your money and the shares Pop left you, and she wouldn’t’ve been around to collect what should’ve been mine.”
His brother’s reasoning was a little off. He was right in that if Mark was dead, his will left everything he had to his only living relative—Malcom. They may not have talked much, but he was blood. But if Zoey died, the house, money, and part of the business Pop had left to her would go to her relatives.
Maybe, in Malcom’s mind, it was enough that Zoey herself wouldn’t get it.
He needed to stall some more. “You wanted this house?” Bubba asked his brother.
“Fuck this house,” Malcom sneered. “I don’t give a shit about this dump. But I could’ve sold it and gotten the cash, just like she’s planning on doing. That money should be mine.”
“I told you why I was here yesterday,” Bubba said. “At ten o’clock today, you can have what you wanted.”
“No, I can’t!” Malcom yelled, the gun wavering slightly as he spoke.
Bubba pushed Zoey farther behind him. If the gun went off, the last thing he wanted was Zoey accidentally getting shot.
“You want to sell your shares to me and Sean? What a joke! I don’t have the money to buy you out. And even if I did, I shouldn’t have to. Who was the son who was here when Pop needed help firing an employee? Me! Who was the son who was here to work a shift when someone didn’t show up? Me! Who was the son who listened for hours and fucking hours as Pop talked about his precious business plan, and gave him advice on how to make more money? Fucking me! That’s who. Not you. Not the golden boy who was off gallivanting around the globe playing hero. I’m gonna get your share of what should’ve been mine—without paying!”
Malcom’s voice had risen with each sentence until he was practically screaming at Bubba by the end.
“If you’d hurry up and quit talking about it and just fucking shoot him already, this would be done,” a feminine voice sounded from behind Bubba.
Shit. Things had just gone from concerning to critical in a heartbeat. Bubba spun sideways, keeping Zoey at his back.
Tracy Eklund was standing just inside the living room. They hadn’t locked the door when Phantom had left, and she’d obviously just waltzed right on in.
He’d told Zoey that most people killed for money or sex, and it looked like in this case, it was both.
“Let me guess, you and my brother have been having an affair.”
Tracy looked smug but didn’t reply.
When Malcom spoke, Bubba turned his attention back to him. The situation sucked. They were in the middle of the two people who’d done their best to kill them. He couldn’t protect Zoey from both Malcom and Tracy at the same time. Shit, shit, shit.
“I love her. She’s the other half of my soul,” Malcom said.
“She’s way older than you,” Bubba said, trying to get his brother to think clearly. “I’m guessing she approached you, didn’t she?”
“Shut up!” Tracy screeched. “I’m not that much older than Mal. I’m only forty!”
“With those gray roots, you could’ve fooled me,” Zoey said. “Kenneth’s…what? In his fifties, like Colin was? What happened, your gravy train dry up?”
With that, Tracy reached over the counter and grabbed a big kitchen knife from the block that Zoey had wanted to pack away the night before but hadn’t gotten the chance. “Shut up, bitch! You’re nothing but a leech. Latching onto Colin and taking his money from the people who should have it. Namely, Malcom!”
“Easy,” Bubba said, holding up a hand toward Tracy.
“I’m gonna carve you up, bitch,” Tracy said with narrowed eyes fixed on Zoey.
Bubba put his hands behind his back and clasped Zoey’s forearms. To Malcom and Tracy, it probably looked like they were holding hands behind his back…but Bubba was making sure he had a good grip on the woman he loved so if he had to fling her out of the way in a split second, he could.
Bubba’s phone vibrated on the kitchen counter with an incoming call, the sound irritating, but everyone ignored it.
“Yeah, she came to me when we started seeing each other,” Malcom said, the pistol wavering. “And things were great. But then you emailed Pop and mentioned a possible visit. He was so fucking happy, it was disgusting! He made an appointment that same day to change his will, swearing that if you came back and saw how great the business was doing, you’d fall in love with it and move home. He was delusional! Everyone knew you weren’t coming back. But it was clear then that I had to do something.”
Bubba’s blood ran cold. “What’d you do, Mal?”
“Shut up, Malcom,” Tracy warned.
Malcom ignored her. He stared into his brother’s eyes. “She said it was the only way. That you’d always be the golden boy. His favorite. That I’d never measure up. I had to!”
“What’d you do?” Bubba demanded.
“It was only a little at first, to see what it would do. It worked really well. He got sick almost immediately…”
Bubba heard Zoey inhale sharply, but she didn’t speak. He felt sick. “You killed Pop?”
“I had to!” Malcom shouted. “Tracy said it would be easy. That he wouldn’t feel a thing!”
“But he did, didn’t he?” Zoey asked softly. “Colin suffered. He must’ve been in so much pain.”
“Yeah, but that was because I messed up and didn’t give him enough. When you left to go visit your mom, it was time. I gave him enough arsenic to make his heart stop.”
Bubba clenched his teeth together so hard they hurt.
“And it was all for nothing, because you guys didn’t fucking die!” Tracy spat out. “You and that bitch pilot were supposed to die after takeoff. The guys I hired to sabotage the plane took my fucking money and ran. Leaving you out in the wilderness to die was just the ridiculous plan we concocted so Eva would take the job. She had no idea that flight was supposed to be her last.”