Just One Scandal (The Kingston Family 2)

Braced for a discussion of some kind, he entered the loft, which seemed strangely quiet. The lights inside were off, which was unusual considering Chloe tended to sit in the big family room with the lamps on so she could read.

Hoping like hell she hadn’t retreated to her room, he put his phone on the credenza and walked down the hall. Her door was open but her lights were also off.

His gut churning, he looked inside. The room was empty. Devoid of the perfume she kept on the dresser, the bottle of water on the nightstand, and other odds and ends he’d gotten used to seeing there. He stepped into what he’d come to think of as Chloe’s room and opened each dresser drawer, finding one after the other empty. And though he knew what he’d find, he checked the closet anyway. Everything that belonged to her was gone.

“Fuck.” He lowered himself onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair. Had he really expected her to stick around after his rejection? He’d been deluding himself all day because he hadn’t wanted to consider the possibility that she’d move out without a word.

The hell of it was, he couldn’t blame her.

His cell rang, and he walked out of the empty bedroom and headed to the entryway, where he’d left the phone. A number he didn’t recognize flashed on the screen, and though he’d normally ignore it, something told him to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, asshole. Meet me at the club in thirty minutes. We need to talk.”

Beck closed his eyes and groaned. “Linc, do we really need to do this tonight?”

“I can’t think of a better time. See you then.”

Knowing he was going to get his ass handed to him, he debated not showing up but then decided enough time had passed. The least he could do was hear Linc out.

No matter what the other man had to say.

* * *

Beck walked into the club he’d last been at with Chloe, deliberately late. If Linc was going to rip him a new one, at least he’d know he couldn’t order him around and expect immediate compliance. Sometimes it was the little things that helped a man maintain power.

He arrived to find the other man sitting at a private table in the corner with a bottle of Macallan and two lowball glasses.

Beck lowered himself into the empty seat across from him. In silence, he poured himself a drink, glanced at Linc, who merely nodded. He tipped the bottle and watched the liquid rise, finished, and slid the glass across the table.

They each picked up a glass and took a long sip.

Linc studied him, rolling the glass between his palms. “I was drunk but it was no excuse. You were my closest friend and I betrayed you.”

Beck blinked. He’d expected to be slammed about how he’d treated Chloe, not receive what was as close to an apology as he was likely to get.

“I’m not saying this to excuse my behavior, but I have a rough memory of a woman crawling into bed with me saying, ‘I’m back.’ I thought it was Lacey, too drunk to process that it wasn’t.” Linc dipped his head, his regret more than clear.

“Shit.” Beck didn’t know what to say. He’d had no idea Jenna had pretended to be Linc’s girlfriend. His stomach churned at what Linc must have been feeling. If things had been the other way around, Linc would be in jail. There were words for women like Jenna. He shook his head.

After all these years, Beck wouldn’t just take the apology, he’d give Linc a little more than his understanding. “Jenna was a bitch. I watched her make her way up the food chain at school. You were a means to an end. She wanted more of my time and used you to try and get it. When I didn’t quit my job, she moved on.” Beck shrugged. “It wasn’t easy to get past back then. Later on, it always seemed too late. The anger and hatred between us festered over time and land deals.”

“Agreed. Now answer a question for me. Did you use my sister to get back at me?” Linc took another big gulp.

“Fuck no.” Beck raised his glass and paused. “Although that first morning, I can’t say I didn’t enjoy watching you lose your shit.”

Linc rolled his eyes and Beck couldn’t withhold a grin.

But his smirk disappeared when he thought of Chloe. Sliding his hand off the glass, he curled his hands into fists. “Nothing I did for your sister had anything to do with you.”

It had everything to do with the sad female in the wedding dress trying to pretend alcohol made everything okay. Then he’d seen the real woman who’d fallen apart upstairs in the hotel suite, and something about her called to him.