Corbin (The Theriot Family)

Twenty-Seven

Beau

When I got back to the shop, I doubled-checked that everything had been locked up tight. We were only open a half day on Saturdays, so everyone was already gone except for Sam. She’d waited until I returned so there’d be someone watching the place. I was sure if I asked, the Theriots would send guards over. Maybe I would once I heard from Corbin about his talk with Remington.

Sam gave me a rundown of the work she and the others had done that morning. “Do you want me to stay? I assume you’re going to try to get caught up this afternoon.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I need to, but I need to change and eat something first, and I’m mostly going to deal with paperwork. You don’t need to stay.”

“You’re sure?”

I nodded. “You’ve already been here almost a whole workday.”

“All right. See you tomorrow.”

As soon as I reached my apartment, I stripped out of the clothes I’d hastily put on the night before and showered. Even though I’d just get dirty in the shop, I needed it. Arguing with Remington had left me feeling sweaty and gross. I needed to wash all that off and hopefully wake up a little more. Corbin and I had slept in, but we’d been up for much of the night.

My stomach was rumbling by the time I was out of the shower. All I’d eaten so far that day was eggs and toast. I needed more fuel. I opened the fridge and stared at what was inside, but instead of really seeing the half-empty shelves that didn’t hold much beyond leftovers and some condiments, I kept reviewing the conversation at Remington’s house and wondering whether I’d done the right thing leaving Corbin there alone.

I reassured myself that he had to stand up to his brother on his own. I believed he loved me enough that he would fight for what he wanted, what he deserved. He didn’t need me to fight that battle for him. I wanted control when I was with him but not in that way.

I wanted to hold him down and feel him struggle beneath me. I wanted to be in charge of when he came and when he wasn’t allowed to. I wanted to wrap my hand around his neck and shove my dick inside him, work it in and out as slow or fast as I chose, and I wanted to spank him again whenever he needed it. I didn’t want to fight all his battles for him or make all his choices. I wanted him to feel like he’d decided what he was doing with his life.

My fridge began to beep, angry that I’d left the door open for so long. I turned my attention back to the food inside, but before I could pick out something to eat, searing pain shot through my head. I squeezed my eyes shut and staggered, falling against the refrigerator.

What the hell? I tried to turn around, but I couldn’t. Blackness closed in on me. I fought it, but my knees buckled. As I hit the ground, I heard a woman laugh. Then the darkness took me.

Twenty-Eight

Corbin

Remington invited me to have dinner with him and Henri, so I texted Beau that I’d be there a little bit longer than I’d thought. He hadn’t responded, but I knew he had work to catch up on. I figured he probably had his head under the hood of a car.

I was getting ready to leave Remy’s when my phone rang. I pulled it out and saw the number for Beau’s shop. Maybe his phone had run out of battery.

When I answered, it was Sam. “Have you talked to Beau recently?”

My pulse sped up. Something was wrong. I knew it. “I was with him until a couple hours ago, but not since then. Why?”

I was here when he came back to the shop. He said he was going to change, then take care of some work here. I came back because I’d left something, but he’s not here and he’s not answering his phone or his door.

“Do you have a key to his apartment?”

“I do, but…”

“Use it. Please. I need to know if he’s okay. With everything that’s been going on…”

“That’s why I called. I wouldn’t have been worried, but…”

“Go check and call me back.”

“What’s wrong?” Remington asked as soon as I ended the call. I explained as I paced around his kitchen.

Remington’s phone rang at almost the same time as mine. He answered and then left the kitchen so I could hear better.

“He’s not there,” Sam said. “And the door to the fridge was left open.” There was silence for one moment and then another. Whatever she wasn’t saying had to be bad, but I needed to know.

“Tell me.”

“There was blood on the floor.”

“How much?”

“Not too much. Definitely not enough for someone to have bled out.”