Page 24 of Watcher
“Hey. He’s one half of the best cleanup crew in the country. No one will even know what happened to Butch. He’ll just vanish.”
Foster knew every word Zeus spoke was the truth. Atticus might be spoiled and high class with the most expensive of tastes, but he was also Foster’s insane and sexy Kung Fu Hustle. His money was always on Foster. That didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified.
As if Zeus read his mind, he jumped to comfort Foster. “He took on both of us without breaking a sweat. One old man is nothing. I’m sure Atticus will text you soon. Just try not to have a meltdown before then.”
Foster took a shaky-sounding breath. “For the record, I’m still furious with everyone.”
“Heard and noted.”
Foster rolled his eyes. God’s gift or not, Foster had no idea how Tracker put up with Zeus. The guy was a master deprogrammer.It had to be like living with a psychiatrist. “Get back to treating my brother like a king.”
Zeus laughed. “On it.”
Foster disconnected the call and fell back across the bed. He stared at the ceiling. Foster would never understand how Atticus always took him from one edge of insanity to another without missing a beat. Maybe he was the one who should be exhausted. A loud, aggravated-sounding sigh burst from Foster. Love definitely made people dumb as fuck. Foster would be a good boy and wait for Atticus. Then Atticus would fucking tell him everything. They weren’t a game any longer. They hadn’t been for a long time.
The most tiresome part of the past forty-eight hours was the part where Atticus didn’t get to sleep. He had spent the first twenty-four trying to get back to Foster as quickly as possible. His failing was underestimating exactly how long it took to make a crime scene disappear. There was a lot of work involved, and Tidy usually worked with a partner. Unfortunately, Crisp was nowhere to be found before they left. According to Tidy, that wasbecoming a common thing. It was like Crisp purposely separated himself from the family a little more every day. Tidy didn’t seem upset. In fact, Atticus got the feeling Tidy knew why and was very likely part of the plan. Not his issue to solve.
Atticus' second shot at sleep came on the flight home. Too many thoughts raced through his head. He hadn’t messaged Foster the entire time he had been gone. Atticus didn’t know why. Maybe he couldn’t bring Foster into this ugliness. Or maybe he didn’t want to deal with anything over the phone. Atticus couldn’t think straight. He had known exactly how easily he could dispose of his uncle. The plan had been in place for years. Atticus simply hadn’t pulled the trigger before now… or silently snapped his neck. That was a lot less mess, and also why the length of cleanup baffled him. Meh. He wasn’t an authority on those things. Unfortunately, Atticus didn’t feel like much of an expert when it came to Foster either. But he had no doubt Foster would blow up at him the moment they saw each other. Atticus had made this decision knowing Foster would be furious. As long as Atticus kept Foster safe, that was okay. He would take his punishment.
Every time Atticus pictured Foster’s face, all he saw was overshadowed by his feelings. A small part of him wanted to be angry at Foster for making him feel things he never had. After all, he had gotten along fine in life without this addiction gnawing at him. Love. Gah. How crass. Yet here he was, turning his entire life upside down for one man. He would fucking kill anyone who as much as hurt Foster’s feelings. Atticus had no clue how Foster managed to be this badass part of an infamous group like Killers Inc. Yet he was also the gentle giant he didn’t want to be. While Foster had been busy seeing Atticus in away no one ever had, Atticus had done the same. They were an enigma of sorts. Somehow, they were perfect. Now he was tired and had a cranky Foster waiting for him at home. That was another damn thing. When had Hawaii so easily become home? He had even made arrangements for Kirkland to get the house ready to be sold, his car collection moved, and then join him in Hawaii. The rest of the staff would get a decent severance check and great references. It had been difficult for him not to show how important Kirkland had been to him over the years. Kirkland had played his part as the cold butler to perfection. Now it was time for Kirkland to come live the easy life he deserved with him in Hawaii. Beau approved, of course. That thought sent him spinning in a hundred more directions. Why was Beau Bosi being so accommodating? Atticus knew he had a suspicious mind, but nothing was ever this simple for him.
His inner musings carried him all the way to the Hawaii Bosi compound. Atticus’ heart beat faster as Tidy pulled into the garage. They looked equally wiped of all energy and didn’t speak as they went their separate ways. Atticus would make time to thank him later. He had already wired Tidy a huge sum of money even though Tidy had declined Atticus’ offer to pay him. Tracker had the ability to move money into all the brothers’ accounts. Atticus didn’t need permission to pay his debts. Kindness always felt suspect to him. In his heart, he knew Tidy’s intentions were good. It was Atticus. There were things he couldn’t change about himself. Then there was everything he felt for the man in their bedroom.
The first glimpse of Foster made him want to break down. He sat on the balcony in their spot. Atticus crossed the room and stepped out. Foster didn’t as much as glance his way.
Atticus set his hands on Foster’s shoulders and squeezed. “Hey.”
Foster still didn’t turn his head.
Atticus panicked a little. “I told you I’d be back. Sorry I didn’t text or call.”
Foster shrugged. “It’s not like you ever talk to me, so it’s whatever.”
Oh, he was for real upset. Atticus moved to his side and sat in his usual chair. He shifted its position until he faced Foster. His heart dropped at his first sight of Foster’s face. He looked sad. That broke Atticus in a way no one would ever see. “I’ve always been willing to talk about anything you’d like. You know I’m not good at being—” Atticus swiped his hand through the air. He wouldn’t make excuses. “What do you want to know?”
“Twelve? Why didn’t you tell me this has been going on for that long? When you talked about fighting lessons and all that, I thought you were an adult. It definitely sounded like you were in charge of financing some instructor.”
“Kirkland as well.”
That confession didn’t make things better. Foster’s face contorted with rage. “Why did you have to pay them? Why don’t you talk to me?”
Atticus really was terrible at making other people happy. It seemed Foster hadn’t been the exception Atticus had thought him to be. “Tracker stopped talking to me once because he said I treated him like he was expected to just sit around and wait for whatever crumbs of attention I chose to give him. I love you. I don’t want to make you feel like the focus is always on me. But I don’t know what I’m doing. It feels like I’m not doing the right thing no matter how hard I try. I’m sorry I’m failing at this. You’re the one place I wanted to be perfect.”
“I love you too. Please talk to me. I want to hear about you. You matter to me.”
While Atticus wanted to jump for joy and kiss Foster, he had to give Foster what he needed first.
Atticus sat forward and rubbed Foster’s thighs so he could meet his need to touch Foster and give Foster all the words. “My mom committed suicide when I was twelve. Until then, she was really the only parent I knew. She was my dad’s status symbol, and I was too, I suppose. We only existed to make him look like an upstanding guy. Meanwhile, he did as he pleased, spending money on drugs, women, and toys. While he threw wild sex parties on his yacht, my mom was at home being humiliated at every turn.”
“That’s terrible.” Foster’s expression matched his tone. He cared.
Atticus nodded along. “That’s nowhere near the worst of it. When he was home, he acted like the perfect family man. He wasso hot and cold that all my mom did was cry. When she finally accepted that she was only a bank to him, she killed herself.”
“Wait. What? I thought the money was drug money.”
“It was, somewhat. Just not on paper.” Atticus drew a deep, steady breath before continuing. “He married my mom because she came from one of the richest families in Texas. Her dad had oil money. Then Dad really hit pay dirt when her father left everything to her when he died at fifty-five from a heart attack. While he had been well known as a huge player, he raised her as a single parent and loved her. He loved me.” Atticus had to pause to clear his throat. This was one topic that never stopped murdering his soul. “That’s who had been my dad in my heart. That’s who really raised me. So, by twelve, I had lost everyone who mattered to me. Anyhow, it turns out he had basically used her huge accounts to hide his drug money.” Atticus laughed. “Then she left everything to me. You should’ve seen the look on his face. He thought he was done kissing ass to keep his fortune hidden. Now he had me. Unfortunately, I was a minor. He didn’t have to do much other than control the finances. If I stayed quiet, then I had full unfettered access to my mom’s portion, but he didn’t truly want that. He didn’t want to share. So he tried to kill me, and I kept surviving. He had to make it look like an accident or he’d lose everything he tried to gain. That’s the real reason everything is mine and why I hired your team to kill him. My uncle never had any right to any assets. They were always mine, and I waited a long damn time to be rid of my dad.”
“Wait. You hired us? Tracker told me a totally different story. He said it was your uncle was who hired us, and you wouldn’t give him the money because it was your dad’s wish for it to be yours.”
