Dani may have taken her own life, but it was the things they did, he did, to her that broke her spirit and ended her will to live. Dani may have jumped off the roof of my parents’ penthouse in downtown Manhattan, but it was Christian Montgomery who pushed her.
And I won’t stop until that bastard is dead.
“Lauder.” Hunt waves his hand in front of my face. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Sorry, man.” I sigh, rubbing the tense spot in my chest. “I zoned out. Did the nerd find anything?”
“He found … something,” he cryptically replies, crossing to the large leather sectional and dropping down onto it. He grabs a paper file from the coffee table. “Not the something we were looking for, and I’m not sure how it helps or if it helps at all.” He claws his hands through his dark hair, his brow furrowing.
It’s not often I see Sawyer Hunt perplexed or so ill at ease.
“What is it?” I sink onto the couch beside him.
Wordlessly, he hands me the file, and I start reading. I’m vaguely aware of Hunt getting up, but I’m too engrossed in the shit the nerd uncovered to pay any attention. The room pulses with tense silence as I take it all in. “Holy fucking shit.” I slam the file down beside me when I’ve finished reading it. “You didn’t know?” I ask, glancing at my buddy’s back. He’s standing in front of the window, nursing an old-fashioned in his hand.
He turns around, shaking his head. “I had no idea.”
“Where is she now?”
“In New York.” He sips his drink, eyeing me warily.
“You got an address?” I ask, my foot tapping off the ground.
“Why? What’re you planning?”
I scrub a hand over my prickly jaw. “I’m not sure yet. I need to think it through.”
Hunt sighs, walking back to me. He sits down on the edge of the large coffee table. “I know you don’t like her.”
I snort out a laugh. “That’s an understatement. In all the years we’ve vacationed in The Hamptons, I’ve never once wet my dick in her pussy. What does that tell you?”
“That she’s clingy and even you don’t go there.”
“Exactly.” I prop my feet up on the coffee table, ignoring Hunt’s scowl. “Look how scary she was after Anderson fucked her that one time.” A shudder works its way through me. “Desperate is not a good look on Vanessa, and it’s a shame because she’s hot as fuck. Pity she’s so batshit crazy.”
“I’ve always felt sorry for her,” Hunt admits.
“Save me the speech,” I snap, guessing where he’s going with this.
“I wonder if she knows,” he muses, draining the last of his whiskey.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
Hunt narrows his eyes. “What are you going to do?”
“I think it’s time I paid Vanessa Breen a little visit, don’t you?”
_______________
“You got her address yet?” I ask a couple days later when Hunt returns from a hard day at the office. His dad insists he puts the hours in at Techxet, the multibillion-dollar global technology company he will one day inherit.
Hunt has mad tech skills, and access to a whole team full of expert brains, and he’s our go-to guy when we need something. When you add Xavier Daniels to the mix—he’s another IT genius and Hunt’s sometime bed partner—it feels like we’re unstoppable.
Which is why the lack of intel on this one simple matter has me all kinds of suspicious. Hunt could get Vanessa’s address in minutes without resorting to his IT skills. One phone call to his parents would do the job.
“Do you have to be such a slob?” Hunt grumbles, pursing his lips as he bends down to pick up some crumpled soda cans from the floor. I briefly scan the room, wondering what he’s bitching and whining about. Sure, it’s a little messy, but it’s not that bad.
My wet towel still lies in a heap where I deposited it after my post-run shower, and my sweaty shorts and sneakers rest by the window. The coffee table is littered with used cups and plates and empty cookie and chip packets. Tons of files and papers surround me as I sit on the floor. I had started my investigative work on the couch, but I needed more space to go through all the evidence nerdy Jamison has dug up these past couple months.
“Florentina will be here tomorrow to clean up,” I remind him. “No need to get your panties in a bunch.”
Hunt and I lived together for the past year, but it was easier in Rydeville because my house there is over ten-thousand-square feet of prime real estate, and it was easy to forget I was cohabiting. Hunt’s penthouse is more confined, and it shows. His anal ways are grating on my nerves as much as my messiness and lack of care are grating on his.
“All I ask is that you fucking tidy up after yourself.” He holds his nose while picking up my towel, grimacing like he’s holding soiled boxers. “I cannot live like this all summer.”
“Don’t take your blue balls out on me,” I shout after him as he walks toward the laundry room. “Tomorrow’s Friday. Call Xavier and get his ass up here. You need to get laid.”
Hunt glares at me when he returns with a large black garbage bag. “Do not fucking push me, Lauder. And for the last time, Xavier and I are casual and nonexclusive. We’ve barely fucked around and it’s not something I’ll be making a habit of.”
“If you say so.” I smirk, crawling to the table and tossing some crap into the garbage bag. “Call up one of your secretaries or that bartender chick you had the hots for last summer. Just find someone to fuck, because you’re already getting on my very last nerve.”
“You want her address or not?” Hunt snaps, clearing away the dirty dishes.
“So, you’re admitting you have it?”
“We both know I have it,” he calls over his shoulder. “Whether I’ll give it to you is another thing.”
I climb to my feet, tying a knot in the bag once all the garbage is cleared.
“What’s your problem?” I ask, dumping the bag in the laundry room. Florentina can dispose of it tomorrow.
“I need to know your intentions,” he admits, grabbing a couple of mugs from the overhead cupboard in the kitchen. He switches the Keurig on, loosening his tie as he waits for the coffee to brew.
“Why? You want in her panties again?”
“You can’t hurt her,” he says, ignoring my question.
I quirk a brow, snatching creamer from the refrigerator. “Who said anything about hurting her?”
Hunt crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t act dumb. We’ve been friends long enough for me to know the way that fucked-up brain of yours works.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t meant as one.”
I chuckle as I take the mug of steaming coffee from his hand. “I’m making no promises, dude. And don’t pretend you care. Anderson was a complete prick to Vanessa, and I didn’t notice you stepping in.”
“It’s different now,” he says, leaning back against the counter.
“How?” I take a sip of the bitter liquid, enjoying the burn as it glides down my throat.