23. Twenty-Two

I drummed my fingers on the table, listening to my family argue with the mercenaries. Everybody wanted something, but few were willing to sacrifice for it.

Take Warrick. Since he was young, my brother had dreamed of one thing: a family. Over the years, that dream shifted from a nuclear family to children of his own. He believed the best way to achieve this was to compromise, living in a loveless marriage with a man he ultimately resented. Only when he let go of that singular desire did the universe hand him Paxton Cooper and his two little girls.

Now, my brother's happy ending was within reach, costing him the blood of a man who deserved to die. No one would miss Simeon the Immortal or his mafia henchmen. Warrick would get what he wanted, but only because he’d suffered for it first. If he'd met Paxton a year earlier, under better circumstances, they wouldn’t have worked out.

Warrick and Paxton weren’t destined any more than River and Theo. Their relationships depended on chance and a lack of effort. They just had to be themselves, and the universe delivered the right person. But if either brother had to search for happiness, neither would have found it. They weren't willing to do the work.

A lesser man might see their relationships and think it unfair. After all, I’d worked hard searching for someone who could love all the conflicting parts of me. It was tempting to think it too easy for them, while I struggled with my complicated relationship with Eli, especially with Bryce and Keres involved.

Yet wallowing in self-pity would accomplish nothing. I had to learn to content myself with what I had—Eli, my family, more family than most. The Laskins were gathered around the table negotiating my brother’s happiness. And then there was Dani.

Except I didn’t have her—not yet.

My gaze fell on Xavier and Xander. Xavier was focused, despite his bored expression, eyes darting between Warrick and mercenary leader Boone Calhoun. Xander, on the other hand, picked at loose threads on the sling supporting his broken arm, likely unaware of his surroundings. Typical. He had the attention span of a goldfish unless the topic involved material goods, fashion, or sex.

Yet they were my brothers. I’d helped raise them from infancy. I’d changed their diapers, celebrated their first steps, and been there when Xander and Xavier lost their triplet brother, Xion. The night of Xion’s break had been hell for everyone, especially for Xavier. He sobbed, thinking he’d lose both brothers when Xion attacked Xander, leaving him in the hospital. I’d held him, reassured him, and supported Xander through his recovery.

They were my brothers in every sense but one—we shared no blood. That didn’t make it easier to sell out Xion to save Eli and Dani.

It isn’t betrayal , I thought, knowing they'd see it as such. I rationalized what I was about to do, telling myself I had no choice. They’d understand after I explained everything. I hoped.

“Fuck that,” River growled, snapping me from my thoughts. “A hundred fifty thousand dollars to kill one guy? That’s extortion.”

Boone, the redheaded mercenary leader, snorted. “That’s a discount. That one guy has twenty Russian mobsters guarding him—twenty-one guys. At nine thousand a head, I’m technically giving you four heads for free.”

Warrick frowned, his pout more natural than any smile. “Do better,” he demanded.

I didn’t know why they fussed over money. We weren’t broke. I was the only one, besides Annie, who knew the family finances. Despite our frugal lifestyle, we were millionaires—technically. Much of our cash was invested or cycling through various processes to keep it clean enough to avoid IRS scrutiny.

Boone leaned forward with a sneer. “You seem to think the price is negotiable, sweetheart. It ain’t.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. I’d never liked Boone and his flippancy, but we needed him more than Warrick knew.

“Fifty,” Warrick countered.

“Darlin’, don’t insult my talent. I’ll come down to one twenty, but I can’t take a penny less.”

The numbers bounced back and forth while I considered my options. I didn’t like Boone, but he had a role to play. I needed somewhere safe to deposit Xion while I strung Algerone along.

“I’m going to write down an offer,” I said, retrieving a pen and paper. “As long as you don’t read it out loud, and everyone walks away alive, I’ll pay one-third of the base price from my personal funds. The Laskin family will cover another third, and the Volkovs the last third. Half up front, the remainder after.”

I wrote my offer, including a base price of ninety thousand and a bonus of four million. Boone was, after all, a mercenary.

I folded the paper and handed it to Boone before anyone else could see.

His eyes nearly bugged out as he read. “Are you serious?”

“Quite. But the offer is good for thirty seconds, and ten have already passed.”

“Hold on,” my cousin Aleksi cut in. “I have the right to know what I’m agreeing to pay.”

“Thirty,” I said. “Half now, half after the target is dead.”

Warrick frowned and mouthed, “What the hell?”

I mouthed back, “Trust me,” hoping he’d leave it at that.

I knew I had Boone when he tore the paper in half. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Professor.”

As the meeting wrapped up, Boone caught my eye, wanting to question me. Warrick stepped in front of me, demanding, “What the fuck was that? What did you offer him? Why didn’t you run it by me first?”

I don’t know if it was his confrontation or his crowding, but Keres fought his way to the surface. I had to watch as he flashed his teeth at Warrick. “Careful. My claws come out when my back is to the wall.”

War stepped back, eyes wide. “Keres?”

Keres peered at his bare hands, disapproving, but didn’t reach for his gloves. “In the flesh,” he replied.

Warrick swallowed and found his courage. “You can’t make offers without talking to me first. I’m responsible for this family, Keres. I need Shepherd to have my back.”

Keres eyed him, surprised my brother stood up to him. Perhaps Paxton had been good for him. He wouldn’t have shown such a spine before.

What should I tell him? Keres asked.

Let me , I pleaded. I couldn’t afford for him to mess this up.

Keres let out an irritated huff, but gave me limited control. I hated when he did that—it took coordination and was exhausting.

I licked my lips and spoke carefully. “What I offered doesn’t affect you or your family,” I said. “You have my word.”

Warrick studied me. He wasn’t stupid. He knew I’d chosen my words carefully, but wouldn’t know why. He trusted me, perhaps too much.

He cleared his throat. “I’d prefer you run any deals by me first. Especially in front of people.”

Keres snorted. “I have no designs to supplant you as leader, Warrick. You are the head, and I am the teeth and claws when you need me.”

“Everything all right?” Pax, Warrick’s boyfriend, appeared, arm protectively around War’s shoulders.

Keres thought, Pax would be worthy prey.

You’re not hunting my brother’s boyfriend , I snarled. Be nice, Keres, or I’ll bury you so deep you’ll never claw your way back out.

Keres smirked. “Everything is as it should be. No need to worry. I might see myself out. I’m feeling a bit peckish after that exchange.”

“We’re on lockdown,” Pax said. “You can’t leave.”

Keres paused, pleased to see War pale. “There is only one thing a man can’t do, Mr. Cooper.”

Pax tilted his head, wary. “What’s that?”

“Live forever,” Keres chuckled. “Everything else is fair game.”

Outside, the summer heat beat down on the family plot and funeral home. The smell of freshly cut grass was ruined by the smoke from Boone’s cigarette.

He looked at me, flicking his lit cigarette into the parking lot. “What’s the catch?” he demanded. “I know you Laskins are loaded, but that’s a lot of dough for you. More than you have.”

Keres snorted and retreated enough to give me control back, lingering near the surface.

“How do you know how much we have hidden away?” I asked lightly as I fought the dizziness and disorientation that sometimes came with the switch. It was a little less than normal since I hadn’t fully retreated, but it still left me feeling uneasy and off balance.

“I have my sources.” Boone folded his arms. “Now what’s the catch?”

I considered the man in front of me. He wasn’t as smart as me, or as most of my brothers, but he was no fool. I had to be careful about how much information I fed him if I wanted to keep from scaring him off. “If you know so much, then you must know about Xion Laskin.”

Boone snorted. “I heard he legally changed his last name to Loomis. Doesn’t seem like he wants much to do with you folks these days.”

I sighed. “He’s so heavily medicated I doubt he knows what day it is. The state hospital is to thank for that. Their version of treatment is to dope their patients into compliance. He’s arguably worse off in there than he would be elsewhere. I intend to change that.”

“Not out of the goodness of your heart, I assume?”

“No,” I agreed. “There is a certain third party interested in Xion who’s offering a cash bounty for his delivery. I want you to make that delivery.”

“And who’s going to deliver Xion to me?”

“Warrick will,” I said. “But he doesn’t know it yet, and this won’t be a simple delivery, Boone. Xion is… he’ll be unstable. Before you hand him over to the third party, for everyone’s safety, he’ll need to be stabilized. That means he’ll need a place to stay, somewhere that no one can know about. Not even the rest of the Laskin family.”

Boone eyed me with a frown and stepped forward. “So let me get this straight. You want me to aid and abet an escaped mental patient who’s serving time for assault. You want me to hold him in a secure location until you clear him, and then to transport him to another location where I hand him over to some mysterious third party, all for four million dollars?”

“No,” I said, standing up straight. “But you’ll get a significant cut of the four million.”

Boone whistled and lifted his cap, scratching the top of his head. “Damn, professor. That’s cold, even for you. You’re going to sell your brother up the river for nothing more than cold, hard cash? I didn’t figure you for the greedy type.”

“It’s more than that,” I spat. “But you don’t need those details. All I need from you is your cooperation. Will you help me or won’t you?”

Boone stroked his beard, considering. “What cut of the four million do I get?”

“Fifty percent,” I said firmly.

“Sixty.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to negotiate with you.”

“Yes, you are,” he said with a big grin. “You wouldn’t even be coming to me if you weren’t desperate. You hate my fucking guts. What dirt does this mysterious third party have on you, Professor? Must be juicy if you’re willing to sell out a brother, eh?”

“Fifty-five. Take it or leave it,” I snarled, grinding my teeth.

He’d take it. Fifty-five percent was still more than two million, and Boone was already practically foaming at the mouth at the mention of cash. It was every mercenary’s one true love.

Boone pretended to consider the offer for a second time before snorting and shrugging. “Fine. It’s a deal. But if the others catch wind of this, I’m going to disavow the whole thing. No amount of money is worth crossing you Laskins for.”