Home > Beneath These Scars (Beneath #4)(68)

Beneath These Scars (Beneath #4)(68)
Author: Meghan March

“Yeah, I’ll definitely go. Hopefully it’ll be a good one.”

JP squealed. “Awesome!”

We finished our lunches just before the door chime rang. A little distracted, I was counting the hours before I could head out and hunt for treasures—and put my questions about my future with Lucas to rest.

I pulled up to the antebellum mansion at six forty-five. There were no other cars in the drive, which was a little crazy given the load of goods behind those doors and the fact that people like me were used to arriving early to get the best of the lot. Heck, I thought I’d really be arriving too late. I wondered how many flyers had been handed out, because I hadn’t seen it advertised on any of my normal sites for estate sales.

The mansion looked like it could be the set for a show about haunted plantations. Older, not exactly run-down, but a stately lady showing her age. I parked the Blue Beast and stepped out. When Jerome had returned from his lunch, I’d shown him the flyer, and he’d immediately rained on my parade. He’d told me under no circumstances was I to come tonight, because he couldn’t accompany me. I’d completely forgotten that his sister was flying in, and he’d committed to picking her up.

But I wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity. So, I’d maybe told him a little white lie, promising I’d come with him in the morning. And I would—to pick up all of the stuff I bought that wouldn’t fit in the Blue Beast.

The sound of another car coming up the road had me hurrying up the steps. Maybe I’d just been the first of the vultures to arrive.

I rang the bell and waited impatiently. Footsteps sounded from inside the house.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded as the door creaked open. I opened my mouth to say something else, but the words didn’t come. A sharp pain pinched my neck . . . and everything went black.

I PULLED UP TO THE office building a few minutes before seven. I assumed I was meeting Haines at his new campaign headquarters. Part of me had wanted to decline completely, but curiosity got the better of me. Curiosity and ambition, if I were being honest.

Sure enough, the sixth-floor lobby had a big sign proclaiming Vote Haines on the door. Never too early to start campaigning. I let myself in, but the reception area was empty. I didn’t have to wait long, however, before the man himself came out.

“Prompt. I like that in a man, Titan.”

“Haines.”

“Come on back. You want something to drink?”

“Not necessary.” I followed him into a wood-paneled office with heavy dark furniture and leather club chairs. The scent of cigar smoke hung in the air. He crossed to a sideboard and poured himself what I assumed was bourbon.

“You sure?”

“I’m fine. Just here to find out what you’ve decided you want from me.”

Haines replaced the top of the crystal decanter and moved toward the window. He didn’t sit, and neither did I. This was a power play, and I was no stranger to winning them.

“It’s come to my attention that you’ve got a hot little side piece.”

His statement took me by surprise, but I kept my face impassive.

“I have no idea why my personal life would be remotely interesting to you,” I said, my tone clearly conveying that the topic was not a discussion I would welcome.

“Well, you see, that’s exactly what I’m interested in.” His expression twisted into something sharp. “I’ve got a problem, and you’re the man who can help me solve it. And since you want something from me, I thought we could make a deal.”

“What the hell would Yve have anything to do with it?”

Haines’s smile turned predatory. “Ah, our little Yvie’s all grown up now. Haven’t seen much of her in years. And yet she’s once again a thorn in my side.”

I stilled at his familiar tone, everything in me going cold. “You better be ready to explain yourself.”

“You have no idea, do you? That I’ve known Yve since she was just a little thing. Six years old, maybe? Her mother is a friend of mine.”

Yve’s confession about her mother being a rich man’s mistress instantly came back, and the pieces fell together. “Her mother’s your mistress, you mean. If you’ve got something to say, Haines, just spit it out.”

He frowned, as if disappointed that his big reveal wasn’t pulling more emotion from me. The man didn’t realize I’d negotiated with some of the most well-respected businessmen in the world and come out the victor.

“Did you know that Yve was my daughter-in-law too? Once upon a time, instead of putting her in a nice little house of her own and fucking her on the side, my idiot of a son felt like he should marry the girl.”

This reveal had the effect he desired. Disbelief. Incredulity. Rage.

All of them must have flashed across my face, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

“Your son is the bastard who beat her?” My tone was quiet, deadly.

“All lies,” Haines spat out, the satisfaction dying.

“I’ve seen the scars,” I growled.

“Then she deserved it,” he replied, his voice rising. “Especially because he ended up in prison because of her and that other little bitch. Some of the best years of his life—gone.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” And why the hell hadn’t Yve told me any of this? But then again, it wasn’t like I’d told her about my deep, dark secrets either.

Haines slammed his tumbler of bourbon down on the windowsill. “Yve egged him on, told him she wanted a divorce. He was justified in being upset, and then he went looking for a good time to take his mind off it, and picked the wrong girl.”

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