Page 62 of Wicked Ends (Hellions of Hade Harbor #4)

Marcus

To set a trap, the hunter has to know two things.

The prey.

Ari.

I knew her well enough by now to understand that she’d go wherever I wanted her to if I dangled the right lure—and going to practice tomorrow and sucking up to Coach Williams would do it.

The trap.

I had that more than covered.

I went over my plan during my last class, staring unseeing out the window at the campus, trying and failing not to play the kiss in the hallway on repeat.

Fuck, I’d missed that woman. The only reason I’d let so much time pass while she was visiting with her sister-in-law and niece was because I needed time to set my trap.

Now, it was ready, and I was done waiting.

Class finally ended, and I headed out of the building to the parking lot. There was a figure attracting plenty of attention standing beside a custom motorcycle. His Harbor Hounds cut gleamed dully under the late afternoon sun.

Isabelle, writer for the Harbor Herald and friend to Lily and Eve, stopped beside me, squinting down the stairs at Cole. “So, that’s your brother.”

“Mm-hmm, that’s him. You want me to pass your number on?”

She snorted softly. “I’m sure he’s got plenty of numbers to keep him busy.”

“Drowning in them, actually.”

What the fuck was Cole doing here?

“But all that tail isn’t enough to keep him out of trouble, I guess, given his latest stay in the hospital. Was it drugs or guns that got him hurt?”

I turned to Isabelle and raised an eyebrow. “I mean this with affection: Stay the fuck away from my brother, if you know what’s good for you.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “What, don’t tell me the big, bad bikers are afraid of a little college student like me?” She batted her eyelashes comically.

I grinned and shrugged. “Fine, don’t… do what you want, but don’t come crying to me when the big, bad biker eats you whole and spits you out. You’re barely an appetizer to a man like Cole.”

“Lovely!” Isabelle shouted after me as I sauntered down the steps. “Thanks for the friendly advice!” she mocked.

“You’re welcome, friend.” I tossed her a wave and made my way to my brother.

A crowd of fawning female students gathered.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Cole.

“Got a meeting with the dean,” he said smoothly.

“What? Why? It’s all worked out with that asshole,” I muttered.

Cole shrugged and started toward the school.

“You coming?” he threw back at me.

Fuck. I had to hear Eastwood ream me out for the second time today. Wonderful.

I followed him to the dean’s office, and then inside when he called for us to enter.

“Ah, you must be Mr. Bailey Sr.,” Eastwood said after he got over his initial shock at seeing a real-life, tattooed and violent biker settling down across from him.

“That’s my father. I’m Cole.” My brother held out a hand to shake the dean’s and waited while Eastwood collected himself and then reached out.

The sound of bones grinding filled the air, and Eastwood fell back against his seat, his face paler than before.

“Well, yes, you wanted a meeting to discuss Marcus and the stunt he pulled in his music class.”

“Wait, you asked for the meeting?” I turned to Cole.

Cole nodded coolly.

“So, I’m not sure what Marcus has told you, but I’m afraid it’s quite damning.” Eastwood started to ramble on about Photoshop and Ari’s reputation.

Just hearing someone say it made me feel like shit every time.

Cole reached into his cut pocket and took out a shiny photo, then laid it on the table. “Forgive me for interrupting you, Dean, but I actually didn’t come only to talk about Marcus. I know what a fucking idiot he was toward his favorite professor. I came here to talk about you.”

Silence fell.

Eastwood frowned, confused. “Me?”

Cole nodded and then glanced down at the table.

Eastwood picked up the photo. The remaining color in his face drained away. “How did you get this?”

“How else? Friends in low places. You see, what you need to understand about Marcus is that he’s not just some kid with an absentee jailbird father who can’t fight in his corner. He’s a kid with me as a big brother—and no one upsets my brother, except me.”

I could see a little of the picture. It looked like Eastwood at a strip club, getting a lap dance. It was the kind of picture that could sink a guy like Dean Eastwood, in a small town like Hade Harbor.

“So, to be clear, Marcus is off-limits. He has me, and I have whatever information I need to have on anybody at any given time. He’s not off the team.

He isn’t suspended, or benched, either. He’s going to do what he does best, hold the fucking team together and help take them all the way, get recruited, and fuck off out of this town.

Nobody, not you, and not me, is getting in the way of that. Do you understand me?”

I couldn’t tear my eyes from my brother. He oozed power sitting across from Eastwood, all nonchalance, and lethal in his confidence.

Eastwood nodded and tucked the photo into his pocket. “If I follow your demands, I trust that there will be no more pictures like this circulating?”

Cole stood and folded his arms across his chest. “There are always more pictures, Dean Eastwood. But as long as you don’t make me unhappy, I’ll do you a favor and keep them to myself.”

Then he leaned one hand on the desk and lowered his face until it was level with Eastwood’s. If this had been an encounter with a violent animal, there’d be no mistake about who was the dominant one.

“But you owe me, Eastwood. Got it?”

The dean nodded jerkily, tugging at his collar as if it were trying to strangle him.

Cole flicked his head toward me. We were done here.

I waited until we were in the hallway to talk.

“What the hell was that?” I demanded, standing in the very same place as Ari when she’d asked me a similar question a few hours ago.

“Parent-teacher meeting. Weren’t you paying attention?” Cole smirked at me.

“Seriously. You’re blackmailing the dean to get me back on the team? Why? I thought you wanted me to become a Hound and forget all this hockey bullshit?”

It was the same recurring argument we’d had time and again when I was younger.

“I thought you didn’t want me to play? I thought I was wasting my time?” I reminded my brother.

Cole sighed and leaned a shoulder against the wall, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting up. The “No Smoking” sign winked at me over his shoulder.

“You think I’ve sacrificed all this… not to have my brother make the NHL?” He blew out a long plume of smoke. “Fuck, no.”

“Excuse me, but there’s no smoking in this building, or on campus at all, actually, FYI.” The tart voice carried along the hall.

Fucking Isabelle. I didn’t know what she was playing at trying to get an introduction to Cole, but it wouldn’t end well for her.

She walked toward us, completely ignorant of the fact that her checked miniskirt and cardigan made her look like a preppy snack for my brother.

“FYI, I don’t care,” Cole said, taking her in from her loafers and knee-high socks, up to the ends of her long red waves.

“Well, will you care about lung cancer?” she attempted.

Cole chuckled. “Not a bit. Everyone goes sometime, sweetheart, and for some of us, sooner is preferable to later.”

She blinked, unsure what to say to that.

“Get out of here.” I shot her a warning look. I wasn’t nearly finished talking to Cole about what had happened in the dean’s office.

“As a prefect, I could write you up.” She stared at Cole again, who was failing to hide his amusement.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. Write me up, book me… I have a special collection of citations, and this one might just be the lamest.”

Isabelle’s eyebrows climbed her forehead, and I could tell she was about to lose it.

“Come on,” I called to Cole and strode out of the building.

He took his time leaving, tossing his unfinished cigarette when we reached his bike.

“I’m serious, you want me to join the NHL now? Did you switch personalities when you got hurt? Is this a brain transplant thing, or the result of a traumatic brain injury?”

Cole sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You remember when Dad told you not to bother coming hunting because you couldn’t shoot for shit and you were never going to improve? Unteachable, remember?”

I nodded. Yes, I fucking remembered.

“You went out every day for a month to do target practice. You became so much better than both of us. That aim and eye coordination, don’t try and tell me it didn’t help you at hockey.”

“So, what?”

“So, as soon as you’re told not to do something, that’s the thing you excel at.

You work off spite, Marcus, and I get it, because I’m the same way.

Fighting against my plans for you pushed you to become the player you are today, the one who has a real shot at the NHL.

Thank me one day, brother, when you’re holding the fucking Stanley Cup.

” He jabbed a finger at my chest. “I better be ice-side at that game. Your family tickets are reserved for me, period.”

“I—fuck, I don’t know what to say,” I managed and stared at my brother like I’d never seen him before.

The thought that he had always been on my side, wanting the same things as I did, and trying to hijack my fucked-up brain into making sure it happened, was something I could barely wrap my head around.

“Oh, Dad lost his appeal,” Cole said casually, like it wasn’t important information, stacking shock upon shock.

“What? I meant to go to the hearing. I promised?—”

“I didn’t need you there after all.”

“But you wanted Dad out. You wanted to share the burden?—”

“And I forgot for a second that that man has only ever been a heavier burden, not relieved it. I thought for a second it might be different, but it wouldn’t have been. He’s the same as always. A waste of blood and bone. I don’t need his help. I don’t need anyone,” Cole said starkly.

“You have me,” I offered.

Ari had told me often enough that there were more people than I gave credit for who loved me. Cole had loved me all along. He’d sacrificed his life to raise me and give me a home. He’d supported me playing hockey after all. My heart swelled.

Cole nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I have you. And you have me, always. Dad’s going to be away for a while longer, past when you’re done with school and out of here. Maybe he’ll read about your Stanley Cup win from prison. That would be a sight to see,” Cole chuckled.

“He’s really not getting out?” I couldn’t believe it. Suddenly, the unpredictable element of my father appearing to fuck up my life was gone. It was disorienting.

Cole shook his head. “It looks like it’s just you and me, brother.”

I couldn’t fight my grin as I pulled my reluctant, tough-guy brother into a bear hug.

“Sounds perfect.”