Page 209 of The Company

Chapter Eighty-Three - James

The cock of a shotgun stuns me out of my sleep.

“Don’t fucking move,” the voice whispers, the barrel pressed against my head.

Vincent.

I smile. “I have no plans on moving. I’ve got her right where I want her.” My cock is pressed against her ass, my hand on her breast, her hand gripping mine.

“You’re a sick fuck, James.”

“Your DNA is the same as mine, brother.” Harper squeezes my hand and I know she’s awake. “And I hope you know what you’re doing with that shotgun. Because you pull that trigger, you splatter both of us. Not just me. So think carefully, Vincent.”

He chuckles. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Take her down with you? Sick. Fuck. Get up.”

I remove my hand and Harper withdraws hers without otherwise moving. I ease away and roll out of bed. Vincent backs up several paces as I stand up to my full height. We are eye to eye. We have the same body. The same hair. The same face. The same eyes. But we don’t have the same instincts.

I have the instincts of a wild animal.

He has none.

He eyes my nakedness and I laugh. “Like what you see?”

“I’m going to put you down like the dog you are. It’s the only death you deserve. Step away from the bed. Don’t hide behind an innocent woman.”

I put my hands up and walk towards him. He backs up and then pivots so he’s got himself between me and Harper.

And then she attacks.

She springs from the bed like a lioness. Her hand wraps around his throat and she squeezes. I grab the gun before the dumbshit pulls the trigger. And then I turn it around and clock him on the head with it. He’s already half asphyxiated from Harper’s squeezing, so it doesn’t take much to knock his ass out.

He crumples to the ground and Harper lets go.

“Jesus,” she says, looking at him with what I can only describe as slight disgust. “That was easy.”

I grab a tie back from the curtains and bind his hands and then grab my trousers and pull them on. I turn to Harper, who is already dressed. “Watch him for a moment. Let me go look for something to drug him up.”

She nods and I let myself out into the hallway. It’s quiet up here, but I can hear lots of noises downstairs as preparations are made for the dinner tonight and the party tomorrow.

I ease into Vincent’s room and close the door behind me. I hit the bathroom where I know he’s got Harper’s pills. They’re not the best for doping people into unconsciousness, but they will have to do. I grab the little orange bottle and head back to her room.

“He’s already moaning,” Harper says, when I enter.

“Here, give him ten pills.”

“Ten?”

“He’s a big guy. We want to make sure.”

She takes the bottle and counts out the pills, while I go back to the door and peek out, making sure no one saw me.

“How do we make him swallow them?”

I grab the pills from her outstretched hand and walk over to Vincent. He is waking up, which is good. He’s gonna need to swallow them himself once I shove them down his throat. “Get me a toothbrush.”

Harper rushes to get that and then comes back, handing it over. I shove it in his mouth to stop him from biting me. “Get me some water.” And then I drop each of the tiny white pills into his mouth. When the bitterness hits his tongue, he grimaces and tries to spit them out. But Harper is there with the water and I tip his head back and pour. “Swallow, asshole. Or you’re gonna drown. Get me more water, Harper.”

“Fuck you,” my brother manages past the toothbrush as he spits the water out.