Page 90 of Last Man Standing

“Figured.” I sip my drink and bring her to the right of the pool. “Tennis courts over there. Pool houses scattered all over. They’re private for anyone who wants to get changed or whatever. Basketball courts.”

“This is just…” Disbelieving, she keeps her head on a swivel and looks everywhere at once. “I was expecting…”

“Barbed wire fences and killer attack dogs? This isn’t Alcatraz, Princess. No one is forced to stay here.”

“No one? At all?”

I shake my head. “Free will is a beautiful thing.”

Says the guy willingly traumatizing women with a hoodie.

“And all the people here…” She angles back the way we came. “All of those men you run into the grass all day long; they choose to stay?”

“They do.”

We’re a little too exposed here, not in view of the medical wing, but within view of anyone who might leave the medical wing and turn this way, so I continue our quasi-tour.

“Does anyone ever choose not to stay?”

“Rarely.”

“And those who leave? You just… let them go? Even though they know the whereabouts of this super-secret hideaway in the middle of nowhere?”

“Even then. We have safeguards in place to mitigate risk, and a lot of my job is to travel around the country and check in on anyone who knows. Just like I traveled to relieve men of the codes in the first place.”

“So you stalk and threaten the defectors?”

“Jesus.” I stop by a pool house door and swing it wide. Lobbing her inside without spilling a single drop of either of our drinks, I follow her in and close the door with a noisy slam. “I’m not stalking anyone, Princess. Nor am I threatening them.”

“But—”

“You continue to judge me by the reputation I cultivated in the first damn place, but that’s not how this shit goes. These men? They work for us because the pay is damn good and the benefits are even better. Living here beats a regular nine-to-five, no matter which way you look at it, and it’s especially tempting to the single, male, twenty-to-thirty-year age range, which, coincidentally, is the exact demographic we like to give muscles and firepower to. Those who try this out and decide to leave, leave, and now and then, I take a peek at what they’re doing to ensure they’re not selling our secrets.” I set my drink aside and crowd her against the wall. I can’t help myself. I can’t breathe quite right unless it’s her breath I inhale. “Here, to those men, my mother’s name is Arabella Jameson. Only. And those of us who know, never speak the name Aster in front of company. Richard had no clue she was alive this whole time, and he never thought to come looking for an Arabella Jameson. Besides, even if he had, her official documents say something else entirely.”

I set my finger beneath her cup and guide it higher. I force her to consume something more filling than her daily dose of anxiety and dread.

“These men think of my mother as a regular, run-of-the-mill tyrant. Not a tyrant of the Aster variety. Those who stay don’t even realize this place is a secret, because once you announce that shit, lips start flapping. To them, this is just a place they work. Exactly the same as the houses you visit every week. You haven’t told me their addresses, because sharing that information has never been relevant. You kept the secret, because no one ever told you it was compulsory to do so. The difference between you and them,” I point back toward the yard, “is that you know my mother is an Aster. You know this is a giant fucking secret. And with your brother and Nova having dealings with Richard, that leaves you with just a single fucking degree of distance between yourself and the man my mother killed herself to escape.”

I fold a little closer and search her eyes. I lick my lips and wish I was licking hers. “You receive different treatment, Scarlett, because you know the secret. They don’t. You’re the embodiment of everything my mother fears, and you’re also really fucking beautiful and the first woman I’ve ever brought here. So that’s got her scared, too.”

Fuck it. I dive in and take her lips with mine. I suckle the flavor of chocolate protein straight off her tongue, and when her knees tremble, I press my hands to her hips rather than risk her falling. “It’s okay that your brain is still filtering through a dozen different versions of the same story, and that those versions each paint certain expectations in your mind. Like barbed wire fences and firing squads for any man who would prefer to leave. But the fact is, that woman we all defend, she’s just a paycheck to them. A name. A woman. She’s firm in how she runs this place, but always fair. She’s generous, and she treats them like human beings with names and unique personalities, which is a massive step up from Uncle Sam punching soldiers through a machine, breaking them down, and putting them back together again to be a clone of the dude beside him. Sometimes, when the stars align and she’s in a particularly good mood, she’ll even challenge one of them to a game of pool in the rec room. Or table tennis. Or poker. They’re here because we provide them with good fucking conditions and a family for them to be a part of, but if they want to leave, that’s okay too. They don’t even realize they know a secret, because smart men know not to tell a motherfucker a secret is a secret.”

I pull back just far enough to study her beautiful blue eyes. “Are we square now, or do you need me to promise there are no trapdoors or alligator pits nearby?”

She firms her sexy lips and challenges me with her defiant stare. Then she lifts her proud chin and sips a little more of her protein shake.

About fuckin’ time.

“Good.” I grab her hand and stop by the counter where I left my glass, but instead of taking it for a tour it’s already been on, I chug the whole thing in one go, glug-glug-glugging until liquid sloshes in my empty stomach. Slamming the glass down and wiping my mouth with my forearm, I meet Scarlett’s sassy stare and grin. “You piss me off when you’re always arguing with me.” I duck forward violently fast and kiss her until our tongues duel and her fingernails dig painfully into my chest. I suckle on her tongue until she whimpers, then I step back and let her breathe, because if I don’t, she might simply pass out. “I hope you never stop arguing with me, though.” I rest my forehead on hers and press my palm to her thundering chest. To the rise and fall of her racing lungs. “The day you stop fighting back is the day I’m gonna be really fucking worried. Now stop bitching and start walking.” I blow through the door and drag her along. “I have places to be, Princess. And you’re making me look bad.”

“Bas!” Koda explodes from the rec room and skids along the pool tiles. He throws himself into a weird star jump of energy and excitement, his face glowing red with happiness, his eyes way too fuckin’ big for his face, and not even having Scarlett’s hand in mine makes him slow down or freak out. He sprints our way and crashes into my legs, but when I expect him to latch onto my hand—which is why I chugged my protein and left the glass behind—he lopes to Scarlett’s other side, pushes her hand up and forces her to drink, then he relieves her of the glass, sets it on a small table, and takes her hand like they’ve been doing it all their lives. “I wasn’t sure if you were gonna come, Bas.” He directs Scarlett forward, in a rush to get where we’re going. “Mom was so mad, huh!” He glances back with gritted teeth. “I made her so mad and got Scarlett in trouble.”

“Oh, n-no,” Scarlett stammers. “It’s okay. I’m⁠—”

“Got me in trouble, you little shit.” I dash forward on lightning-fast feet and scoop him straight into the air. We’re only fifteen feet from the building that houses a bunch of games, but I turn to the pool and dangle my baby brother high above the water instead. “You nearly got me grounded, shithead.”

“No! Don’t drop me!” He squeals and cackles. “No, Bas!”

I drop him—a little bit—but I catch him around the ankles and dangle him upside down. Then I shake him for good measure. “Why’d you sneak into my room, anyway, huh?” Shake. Shake. “Why’d you climb alllll the way to the lights?” Shake.