Page 30 of Her Wicked Husband (The Huxleys #2)

Bryce

My head throbs, but I refuse to skip poker night with my brothers just for a headache.

Especially since Josh would give me shit until I wanted to punch him in the face—he wants a chance to avenge himself.

He isn’t thrilled he lost a thousand bucks on our latest wager because my legal theory was the one the SCOTUS adopted in the latest ruling.

Apparently, he believes winning a thousand bucks in a poker game will make us even, although I’ll still be the smarter and better-looking twin.

But more important is the need to warn my brothers of what Mom and Harvey are up to. She’s as psychotic as ever, but Harvey? He was a bit too helpful and forthcoming. Didn’t even try to drug me. It’s like a viper trying to cuddle with you—can’t possibly turn out well.

I have four Tylenols, which are slow to kick in. Or perhaps the cause isn’t physical, but mental. My mind keeps replaying what happened since that chick drugged me. There are a lot of what-ifs, but no matter how I slice and dice it, I made the best decisions I could, given the circumstances.

Josh is hosting tonight’s game, and has catered a massive deli spread centered around roast beef, as well as put out a box of Cohiba Behikes to puff for the evening.

Hibiki Blossom Harmony whiskey is also here for us to indulge in.

Delicate and fleeting, it’s one of my favorites.

Josh doesn’t give anybody a chance to talk, too eager to start.

He deals before I can pour my first whiskey.

I take a sip of Hibiki and glare at my hand. A king of spades and a ten of clubs. Not bad, not bad at all.

Josh tosses a chip into the pile with a sly grin, which nobody should trust, since he lies well. He can beat a lie detector with ease, and a couple of lawyers at the firm have used him to prove the unreliability of lie detectors in court.

“You’ve sighed four times in the past two minutes. That bad of a hand, or something else?” Josh asks, peering at me over his cards.

I knock back my drink.

“Amélie said you were sick this morning.” Ares frowns. “You still feeling bad? We could’ve changed the date.”

“I’m not sick. It was Mom.”

The atmosphere around the table changes instantly. Gone is the light mood, replaced by a suffocating oppressiveness.

“She came to you?” Ares bristles. Out of the three of us, he harbors the greatest hatred for her. Well deserved, since she nearly killed him.

“What did she want?” Josh demands.

I rub the aching spot between my eyebrows. “I should clarify. I spoke with Harvey, and didn’t get to talk to her. She went after Fiona.”

“Harvey, too?” Ares clenches his hand around his cards, probably fantasizing that they’re Harvey’s neck. He still hasn’t forgiven our uncle for drugging him in Las Vegas.

“He was civilized, considering. Gave me info about what’s going on with the Dunkels and lots of warnings about Mom—like I would ever trust her again.” I roll my eyes, then share what Harvey told me.

“We had another uncle?” Ares shudders. “I can’t decide if I should be grateful or sad that he’s out of the picture.”

“Are we supposed to shed some tears for poor Vincent’s loss?” Josh sneers. “Given how Mom and Harvey turned out, I’m sure he would’ve been just as cold-blooded and ruthless.”

“Are you okay, though? What did Mom want from Fiona? Did she try to bribe her into betraying you?”

I frown at the direction Ares’s mind has gone. “Why do you say that? ”

“She betrayed you before with Jude. Why wouldn’t she sell you out?”

I shoot a quick glance in Josh’s direction. He must’ve shared every detail he knew with Ares, who didn’t really know much about what happened between me and Fiona. Back then he was busy applying to law schools, among other things.

“Second time’s easier,” Josh says.

“She dumped Jude at the wedding.” The incident hasn’t remained a secret.

After all, Jude is a minor celebrity of sorts.

It’s just that The Fogeys haven’t had time to get nosy yet.

Dad’s leading a high-profile class-action lawsuit against some pharmaceutical company that lied about the side effects of an entire class of their drugs.

Jeremiah’s busy with two high-maintenance clients who refuse to understand that calling and texting her every hour isn’t conducive to winning.

“So? Maybe Jude made her sign a shitty prenup,” Ares says uncharitably. “After all, people like her only care about herself.”

“You’ll never get us to feel anything sympathetic toward her, not after she hurt you the way she did. Had you on a bender for a week. Bitch.”

I pull my lips in. My brothers’ hostile expressions say that it’s my turn to tear her down, but for some inexplicable reason, I don’t want to.

Have the fiery depths of my rage against her lessened in the last few days? I frown, but I can’t shake off my heartache at the hollowness in her eyes when she said nobody would notice or care if she went missing. She wasn’t faking that.

“I really fucked things up with her.” I knock back another Hibiki and explain what happened with the redhead and then Fiona. “It put her on Mom’s radar.”

Ares sighs heavily. “Ah, geez.”

“Yeah.”

“At least Fiona hasn’t been blinded.” Josh sounds like he’s torn between relief, horror, sympathy and old grudges. “So what’s the plan?”

“Well, I’m proposing to marry Fiona—”

Josh erupts instantly. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“—because that way, both of us are protected from Mom’s machinations. ”

“She must’ve jumped at that,” Ares mutters.

“Yeah, she did. Jumped to the toilet and threw up.” I scowl.

Ares and Josh high-five each other and laugh.

“Who’s she trying to fool?” Ares says. “Everyone knows you’re her best option. Her family’s gone bankrupt and Jude obviously isn’t going to marry her.”

Josh puffs on his cigar. “Is she playing hard to get?”

“No, she—”

Ares snaps his fingers. “Maybe she couldn’t keep her breakfast down because she suddenly got pregnant from your proposal.”

“No.” I exhale with exasperation. “She heaved until nothing came out, then ran out, asking me not to follow because she needed to gather her thoughts before we could talk.”

“Did she text you yes after a couple of minutes?” Josh says.

I shake my head. “She hasn’t texted or called.” I hate it that I’m worried about her. I don’t want any part of the tender feelings that were there for her before. I’ll be damned if I let myself be vulnerable to her again.

“You aren’t serious about marrying her , though, right?

If you just want Mom to quit sending you drug girls, you could marry anybody.

” Ares leans forward eagerly. “Actually, my wife’s friend has an assistant who might work out.

A nice Korean woman. Speaks great English and is highly capable.

Graduated from a top women’s university in Seoul. You’d probably hit it off.”

I rub my forehead. “It isn’t that simple.” The bone-deep skepticism in Fiona’s eyes when I told her I’d look for her won’t leave me alone.

She betrayed me first. She approached me for money first. And she sent me those photos, silently begging me to get her out of marrying Jude.

I saved her in spite of an ugly past that left me heartbroken and humiliated.

Intellectually, I know I’ve done more than what was necessary for her, but emotionally, I feel like I owe her a little, even though it makes no sense.

“How come?” Josh asks.

I consider for a moment, then finally zero in on the most obvious answer. “If anything happens to her, I’d feel responsible. I don’t want to carry that guilt for the rest of my life. You know Mom wouldn’t just yell at Fiona. She might use a corkscrew on her for real.”

Ares and Josh look at each other, silently acknowledging the point.

I turn to my twin. “You need to be careful, too. Mom is apparently working on you as well.”

“Nobody’s drugged me yet,” Josh says, although his eyebrows pinch, creating deep grooves between them. “And I’ve had a vasectomy, so Mom won’t be getting a baby out of me.”

“Vasectomies fail,” I remind him. “Our cousin Huxley’s dad fathered seven boys in four months because his came undone.”

“Let’s just say my surgeon’s better than his.”

We finish most of the whiskey, but don’t play any more cards.