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Chapter Two
Baxter
I’m starting to wonder if pressing that emergency SOS button on my phone was a bad idea. It took a while for the memories of the blast to come back to me, but the one thing that was a constant certainty for me was Amelie. I remember that we fought and I walked off, then there was a blast. I came round outside, way too far from the building to have been thrown, propped up against a tree. So I dialled for Grandfather's help.
I knew by activating that damn button – and the attached tracker – that my grandfather would find me swiftly and get me to safety, but I didn’t anticipate how stir-crazy I’d find myself going, stuck on his private island.
His doctors say I was injected with some sort of drug, but so far have been unable to identify it. It’s bound to be some new synthetic shit, but it’s done a real number on me. Weeks later, and I’m still as fragile as I was on day one.
When I find out who’s responsible for this, I will butcher them. Order rules be damned.
To make matters worse, the old man won’t get off my back about The Order. I just wanted to get away from them all, and yet here he is, ramming their virtues down my throat at every opportunity. He thinks they’re wonderful, even though he’s practically a ghost within their ranks. They let him get away with that shit because of the reach, connections and money that he has. He wants me to step up and take a more active role. It’s driving me crazy.
Not to mention that I can’t seem to go anywhere on this godforsaken island without bumping into him and his bloody floozy.
I’m not stupid; I know that woman has been in his life longer than I’ve been alive. It doesn’t matter that my grandmother died twenty years ago and that I can barely remember her, it’s an insult to her memory. The day I found out my grandfather had cheated on my grandmother – pretty much from the first day of their marriage – was the day I lost all respect for him outside of the boardroom.
And now he’s hassling me to join him in business too. He wants to groom me to take over the vast Branson empire.
Like I give a shit. About any of it.
I just need to heal from the explosion, survive another two weeks here, and then head back to Knox to finish my sentence. I plan to keep my head down and leave anything to do with The Order well alone.
And that includes Amelie. She’s one of them now. I tried to save her, but I failed. She’d have been better off dying in that blast. The alternative – selling her sole to The Order – is way worse.
I sigh and firmly lock thoughts of Amelie in a mental box never to be opened again. I don’t know what it is about her, but she makes me weak. Unstable. Dangerous.
Though of course, my inner psycho quite likes that. Spilling blood in her honour has been the most fun I’ve had in years.
No. I need to stop.
Standing, I wince a little, still tender from the blast. It’s been almost three weeks and I’m still weak as a baby from whatever shit I was injected with. I had a concussion from the blast and the last thing I remembered was speaking to Amelie—
Fuck it. I can’t keep her from my mind. She’s well and truly under my skin.
“Ah, here you are. I wondered where you’d been sulking lately. Haven’t seen you about.” My grandfather grins at me, that woman peering over his shoulder with a sneer on her face, and I scowl at the pair of them. But mostly her.
Reaching for a cigarette, I place it between my lips and light it.
“Not sulking,” I say, taking a long drag before exhaling and blowing the smoke in her direction. “Healing.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Grandfather replies sceptically. The only thing worse than him getting at me about school, business and The Order, is the person he becomes when his mistress is around. I don’t like it one bit. “Listen, we have a visitor arriving soon.”
“We?”
“Cordelia’s granddaughter is coming to stay for a while.”
I perk up a little. Fucking with Cordelia is my favourite pastime, and fucking her granddaughter is bound to mess with her head and cause friction between her and my grandfather. Maybe I can fuck her up a little too. Now that Amelie has unleashed my thirst for blood once again, I find myself craving it more than sex.
Unfortunately, my grandfather must see the spark of interest in my eyes because he quickly shuts my plans down.
“No, Baxter. Not this time. Aren’t there enough staff members on the island to whet your appetite?” He sighs, like this is just another thing he can chalk up against me in the massive list of ways I disappoint him.
“I’ve worked my way through them all,” I lie. “Twice.”
Well, maybe it’s only a half lie. I definitely worked my way through the staff over the Christmas holidays. Twice. Maybe he has some new recruits for me now? Not that I’ve been feeling up to it. But for this granddaughter chick, I could grit my teeth and persevere.
Cordelia tuts like I’m a disgusting creature, but it takes one to know one. Marriage wrecker that she is.
