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Nobody answers. None of us speak. Elijah and Drake join our huddle, and they all just hold onto Maddox and me. Like they can protect us from the awful truth. Mad’s hot tears soak through my shirt. This is what families do, isn’t it? We protect each other. And right now, Mom is our priority. What happened to me was fucking awful, but telling them all about it will only bring more pain. We can deal with Kyngston Worthington III some other time. When Mom is better.

I scrub the tears from my cheeks and steel myself to go see Mom and Pop. They need all of us at our strongest, and that’s what I’ll be for them. Strong. Dependable. The easy kid who never gives them any trouble.

Chapter

Twelve

MASON

“Scotch for you thirsty fucks, and an OJ for you, Mad,” Drake says, placing the tray of drinks on the table.

Amelia, Mel, and Amber attended a luncheon for Amber’s charity today. From what Elijah told me, they were full of laughter and headed out for mocktails afterward. Not to be outdone by their wives, my brothers insisted we meet up for drinks at our favorite bar after work.

Which is the perfect distraction for me after the unwelcome slice of my past I ran into today.

“How’s King doing?” Drake asks. “He found your leak yet?”

I bristle at the mention of him. Now Drake calls him by his name. Had I been advised of his actual name, I may have connected those dots and saved myself a minor cardiac event earlier today. There are not many people with the name Kyngston. Unfortunately, I’ve met two of them and hate them both with equal fervor.

Thankfully, Elijah answers for me. “He hasn’t found out much yet, but it’s only been three days. He’s good though. Efficient. Discreet. Someone from HR asked who he was andwhat he was doing there today, and his spiel about doing some kind of health and safety audit rolled right off his tongue.”

Yeah, that sounds like him. He’s an incredible liar.

“What did you think of him, Mase?” Drake asks.

He’s an arrogant, heartless douchebag with the emotional intelligence of a fire hydrant. I shrug. “He was okay.”

Drake arches an eyebrow. “Just okay?”

“Yes, just okay, Drake. Is there something wrong with that?”

Nathan puts a calming hand on my shoulder. “Relax, Mase. You’re usually much easier to please than Elijah, that’s all.”

“Hey!” Elijah protests, but quickly quiets down when we all remind him this is true.

“I would’ve thought he’d be right up your alley, to be honest,” Drake says with a smirk.

That snaps the remainder of my already thin patience. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did you see him? All muscles and tattoos and a square jaw. He seemed exactly your type is all I meant.”

“Well,Idon’t fuck around with my employees, Drake,” I bark.

“Ouch,” Nathan mutters.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Mason.” Drake frowns, understandably hurt by my words. He met Amelia before she was his secretary and is hopelessly in love with her, and she him.

My anger shifts to self-loathing, and I drop my head into my hands. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Nathan slaps me on the back. “We’ve all been there, buddy. Have a drink and cool down.”

Someone pushes the glass of Scotch into my hand. I look up into Drake’s dark eyes. “Sorry, bro,” I say again.

“It’s okay. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wondered if he might be gay, and you usually know about these things.”

I frown now. “Why would you think he’s gay?”

He shrugs. “No idea. Never saw him with a girl though.”