Better than Sexy (The Sexy 3)

Vic. In what looked like a prison interview.

“What the fuck?” Landon paused mid-sip and placed the mug on the table.

He quickly shot off a joint text to Jason and Tanner to turn on the show, then focused on the screen.

“So, Mr. Clark, you’re in prison for numerous crimes, but we’re here to talk about hazing in particular.”

The man looked the same as he had when he’d gone after Tanner recently, large and ripped, as if he’d had nothing to do in prison but work out. With the same self-righteous smirk he’d always had.

“I’d like to discuss your perspective. What was going through your mind at the time you were involved in the death of Levi Bennett over ten years ago? Our viewers are probably wondering why things got so out of hand.”

“Son of a bitch.” Landon’s hands curled into fists. In the early days after Levi’s death, they’d had plenty of requests for interviews, which they’d always declined. Nobody had called him about this. Apparently the families’ feelings didn’t mean jack shit.

“First I’d like to say something. We agreed if I talked about that time in my life, I could make a statement to my family. They won’t have anything to do with me.” Vic paused. “Hey, Mom,” he said coldly.

“Okay, Mr. Clark. Say what you’d like to say.”

Vic looked straight at the camera, that damned smirk bigger now. “Hey, Vivi.”

Landon froze at the sound of the uncommon name, telling himself it was an ugly coincidence, but his heart beat like a jackhammer as he waited for the bastard to say more.

“Vivi’s my sister,” Vic said, looking at the camera. “I heard you’re an up-and-coming star at Club TEN29. Nice catch, baby sis.”

Landon froze.

“Look at you, playing in my backyard.” Vic looked right at the television screen. “You three, hiring my sister. I couldn’t have planned it better myself, boys.” He leaned back in his chair and met the interviewer’s gaze. “Now what did you want to talk about?” he asked as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

Landon’s cell phone began to ring, but his stomach was churning and his head was pounding, the shock of Vic’s words and the truth about the woman he couldn’t get out of his system reverberating in his head.

When he didn’t answer the phone, it began to ring again. Instead of dealing with his friends, he picked up a glass bowl his mother had given him and threw it against the wall, but the crash and shattering sound didn’t give him any satisfaction. Vivi, the woman he wanted with a fierceness he’d never experienced before, the woman who’d compelled him to play the piano again for the first time since his twin’s passing over a decade ago, who he’d opened up to, was Victor Clark’s sister. The man who’d killed his twin.

He couldn’t stomach alcohol or he’d start drinking right now. So he trashed his apartment instead, kicking over his coffee table, breaking photograph frames on bookshelves, waiting for something to finally make him feel better. And when that didn’t happen, he sunk down against a wall and wondered why fate wanted to fuck with him so badly.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the banging sounded on his door. Before he could decide whether he planned on answering, Tanner let himself in. Both he and Jason had keys to Landon’s and vice versa in case of emergency.

“Shit, man. I came as fast as I could. Apparently not soon enough,” Tanner said, his gaze taking in the destruction.

He strode into the room and headed over to one particular pile and began picking up the pictures. “Your mom’s going to be pissed, you know. She’s going to have to reframe all these.” He set the broken frame on the sofa because the coffee table was upside down.

From his position on the floor, Landon looked up at his friend. “You’re the one who couldn’t look at Vic or utter his name without ending up behind bars. Why are you so fucking calm? He was taunting us.” And that was the least of why Landon was so pissed off.

Tanner shook his head. “I’m not fucking calm, and if I hadn’t been with Scarlett when the interview came on, my place would look just like yours. That said, I’ve had years of therapy and now Scarlett in my life to show me what’s important. I’m not going to let Vic destroy me.” He paused. “Which is not to say I’m not pissed as hell we hired his sister.” The muscle ticking in Tanner’s jaw spoke to his anger.

He strode over and held out a hand, pulling Landon to his feet. “You have every reason to lose your shit. Now talk to me.”

Landon ran a hand over his face and groaned. “Yesterday I was kissing her. That bastard’s sister. Now I want nothing to do with her.” But he couldn’t forget her taste. The sweetness of her tongue rubbing against his, her warm, lush body grinding into his groin. Or the way she looked at him in compassionate understanding when he told her it felt wrong to play music when Levi couldn’t. He’d bared his soul.