Not That Kind of Private Investigator: Chosen Book 21 Read online

  It was really hard not to go all fangirl at all that bronzed skin, butterscotch eyes and golden blond hair. I almost expected him to go by Apollo or something and get around Crossville in a golden chariot that he rode across the sky.

  Okay, that's just fucking ridiculous, Kendrick. He looks much more like a Sol than an Apollo.

  Shaking off my ridiculous thoughts, I stood, meeting him just inside the door. "How is he?"

  He met my gaze, his eyes wide, and clearly a bit more nervous than he had been when he'd busted into Warren's apartment earlier, immediately fixing what I'd fucked up.

  "Better," he said on a whisper before looking away and clearing his throat. "He's going to call his psychologist, but I think he might be able to handle this one on his own, which is quite an improvement, really."

  He moved toward the refrigerator, and I watched his body, knowing I needed to be focusing on my brother and his mental health, but I was having a really hard time not noticing how great his khaki pants looked on his bubbly ass.

  "He wanted me to tell you that he was sorry for the things he said and that he loves you." He opened the door and bent forward, peering inside and I quickly flopped back in the chair pulling my shirt out and over the front of my pants. "Do you want anything to drink, or something to eat."

  He glanced at me over his shoulder and I blinked, knowing he'd caught me checking him out, because subtlety had never been my strong suit and my brain was definitely trying to function on less blood in that moment.

  Clearing my throat, I shook my head. "I never doubted it," I whispered. And it was true. My brother was having a rough time. I knew that without a doubt now given the way he'd reacted, but I also knew he loved me.

  I knew it the way I knew he'd get better eventually. I'd seen it all happen before. "It's been a long time since he lashed out like that, but the guy I just saw was the same kid that had a really hard time accepting things when our father left."

  Turner's eyebrows shot up, and he reached in grabbing a water before turning and letting the refrigerator door fall shut. He walked over, taking the chair adjacent to mine, and turning it to face me before sitting down. "So, you've seen this before?"

  Frowning, I nodded. "What happened to him?" It had to be something pretty bad for Warren to be that angry about it.

  Turner took a long drink of water before clearing his throat. "I don't actually know what happened to him personally, but I can tell you what happened to a large group of people. They were kidnapped, held in a bunker for hours, days, even weeks depending on when they were picked up."

  "Warren was missing for three weeks." I growled. I'd wondered for so long what had happened to my brother while he'd been kidnapped. The part of me that wanted to believe the best, had hoped he'd just been taken by some eccentric person who'd overfed him and just wouldn't let him leave the bedroom or something. But, the part of me that woke up from terrible nightmares, sweating enough to drown a fucking bedbug, had been thinking much, much darker things.

  "Who did it?" I looked up at Turner just in time to see him cringe and the nightmares that always had my brother being raped and tortured by some serial killer all came flooding to the front of my mind.

  "There were a lot of people involved," he said, at least dispelling that thought before it grew too much. Probably not a serial killer if there were lots of people involved. "But the owner of the bunker was actually… my boss at the time."

  My body went cold and then hot as my eyes met his. "Your boss?"

  Had Turner been a part of it all? Had he been helping the madman who'd kidnapped and held my brother?

  He nodded, frowning down at the cap to his water bottle, picking at the label. "He's my uncle. I knew there was something wrong with him. He'd been acting weird for a while, which is actually why I quit school and came back to Crossville." He sat back hard in his chair, sighing up at the ceiling. "The inner circle was starting to get nervous and they thought Alpha Vance needed an assistant. Somebody to keep things straight since he was starting to let certain things fall behind. My cousin Axel was trying to push him toward progressing the streak instead of––"

  "Wait." I threw a hand in the air, trying to run all he'd just said over in my head and still not quite understanding some of the terms. "What are you talking about? Is this like a cult or something?"

  "A what?" Turner asked, blinking quickly. "A cult?"

  "Alpha Vance? Inner circle?" That all sounded pretty cultish to me. "What does all that mean?"

  "Oh, right," Turner said, sitting up straight. "I forgot you don't know that part." He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Even though that is exactly what I was just talking to Warren about." He leaned his elbow on the table, using his hand to massage his forehead. "I swear I'm losing my fucking mind," he grumbled, before snapping his head back up and meeting my gaze. "Okay, basically, my uncle lost his mind, made a deal with a really bad guy that involved human trafficking and your brother and a bunch of other people… survived."

  "There's more, isn't there?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. I didn't feel like he was necessarily lying, but I definitely wasn't getting the whole truth.

  Sighing, he gave me a small smile. "Lots. Unfortunately, I don't think you will take it all well at the moment, considering you're still not sure whether or not I'm one of the guys responsible for your brother being kidnapped… and basically everything I just told you probably doesn't make me sound less guilty."

  At least he understood where I was coming from, because from where I was sitting, it sounded like he was working for, or being led by, a cult leader who kidnapped people and had somehow convinced my brother to be a part of it all with their Stockholmish magic.

  "Your uncle," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Where is he now?"

  "They're holding him until they can decide what to do with him." He shook his head. " I love my uncle, but you should have seen him right before all this went down. I don't know if he can be made better again. It's so hard to reconcile the man who was jumping around my office throwing furniture and––"

  He reached up, cupping the front of his throat like someone who'd just been strangled, and then he sighed. "He used to be so nice. A gentle alpha who cared so much for his people––" Shaking his head, he blinked. "But I don't know if any of that is left in him. He's a danger to everyone, right now."

  Had the guy hurt him? Laid a hand on his beautiful neck? And what did he mean by decide what to do with the man? "You make it sound like they might do something with him other than throw him in prison."

  He nodded distractedly, his mind obviously on something else. "Once you know more about me and my… people, you'll understand how imprisonment isn't always the best course of action, or even possible most of the time."

  "They can't just let him go." Surely, they'd at least try an institute or something, Didn't they have places for people like that?

  "No," Turner said, shaking his head sadly. "He'll either go into a psychiatric facility where they can try to treat his… sickness, or they'll… kill him."

  "What?"

  Turner cringed. "Yeah, let's maybe leave that until you know more about us."

  "I leave in three days."

  A strange emotion flittered across his face. "Where are you staying?"

  "Just the hotel right around the corner from the diner where we met. Room 212."

  Why did that sound so intimate? Where we met? And then to give him my room number?

  And maybe it was just because it was him, and no matter the fact that he may or may not be a part of a cult that kidnapped people––which I just couldn't make myself believe––everything about him was reeling me in. And my erection hadn't even thought about going down.

  "Okay." He swallowed hard, and bit his lip, pausing to think about things for a few moments. "How would you feel about––" His eyes widened, and he waved his hands in the air quickly. "I'm not asking because I'm trying to get you in bed. I just think it would be safer… You don't have to... In fact, I would completely und
erstand if you didn't want to. I'm just worried about your mark. What if someone steals you?"

  "Hold on. What?" I asked, chuckling. That had been a lot of words in a short amount of time, and I wasn't sure how many had been full sentences. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

  He took a deep breath, rolling his eyes and giving me a self-deprecating smile. "How would you feel about staying here tonight?"

  "And you're not asking because you want to get me in bed?" I asked, doing my best not to smile, especially when his eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open.

  "Did I say that?"

  Damn, he was cute. One minute he'd go from slightly frazzled, but fairly collected, to rambling and nervous in the space of a few words.

  "What about my mark? I asked, deciding to let him off the hook in that aspect at least. "You said something about my mark."

  Nodding, he leaned back again, reaching out to flick the side of his water bottle where it rested on the table. "What happened to your brother has been happening a lot, actually. And… it's not random." He met my gaze, his butterscotch eyes making me feel even more that I could trust him, even when all signs pointed the other way. "I know you have the same mark as your brother. You should know that all the people who were kidnapped, had the same mark. Every single one of them."

  "My brother was targeted because of his birthmark?" I asked in surprise. When he nodded, I shook my head, closing my eyes. "The same mark I have. No wonder he's so mad at me."

  "He's not mad at you," Turner said softly, reaching a hand out like he was going to touch my arm in an effort to comfort me, but he pulled back at the last second. "He's hurt and he's trying to understand, and he's pissed, because he can't… because stuff like this rarely makes sense."

  "Not to sound like an asshole," I said, wiggling in my chair. "But… I mean, you want me here to keep me from getting kidnapped or whatever, but do you think you can protect me more than I can?"

  Turner smirked, and for the first time since I met him, I saw the sassy side of the man, which only made me want him more.

  "Your brother was right," he said, standing. "I'm stronger than I look."

  I did my best not to notice the way his pants cupped him in the front, but just like with his ass, it was hard not to check out what was being presented to me so nicely.

  I swallowed, tilting my head to the side. "You heard that?"

  How thin were those fucking walls?

  Turner shrugged, still smiling. "I also have great hearing." He again waved a hand in the air dismissively. "But, you'll learn all of this soon enough. All you really need to know now is that we'd be better off together than you completely by yourself."

  Do not think about that. That is not what he meant. But that was exactly how I thought about it. And I was beginning to think that was all I was going to think about for three days, since it appeared, I was just going to agree to stay in the same house as some stranger like a complete moron with zero argument.

  Chapter Three

  After we picked up Kendrick's stuff from the hotel, we went and grabbed dinner to go from the diner, both of us trying not to laugh when the new kid's head nearly exploded after Dahlia told him to put his puny little seventh grader muscles to work and get a move on.

  After that and the way she'd been talking to the kid almost since the beginning of his shift, all added to Dahlia's general ability to grate on the nerves just a bit anyway. I got the feeling he was either going to walk out one day and leave her holding the bag, or he was going to throw her through a window.

  I dropped Kendrick off at the garage door, explaining which room was his and told him I'd show him around more after I took Warren some food. Kendrick seemed to know it probably wasn't a good idea for him to join me in taking it over.

  Warren seemed like he was doing a little better, and he took the food, but I couldn't help but wonder if he'd even eat it. He seemed to be getting thinner lately, and I didn't know if it was my imagination or not.

  The containers on the table holding the food Kendrick and I had ordered were still sitting where I'd left them when I walked inside, untouched. I figured he'd probably gone to put his stuff in his room and decided to wait for me, so I headed up stairs to see if he was ready to eat.

  I should have turned around and gone back down the second I smelled the combined scents of soaps that usually signified somebody either was or had taken a shower, especially when I couldn't hear water running which definitely meant had taken.

  But as I neared my room, I realized the scent wasn't coming from down the hall where the guest bathroom was, or even a little further down the hall where Kendrick's bedroom was. A room that I'd specifically picked so it wasn't close enough to mine for me to smell and hear things that would give my tiger ideas and have me creeping in there at night.

  I'd told him I wasn't taking him to my house to get him into bed. Certain precautions had to be taken.

  Unfortunately, those precautions were going to be completely in vain if my suspicions were correct and there was a freshly showered Kendrick in my room, right then.

  I swallowed hard when I rounded the doorframe, my eyes taking in the wide, bare, muscular back and shoulders of Kendrick Williams. He was standing there, in nothing but a towel, in my room, bending over… Wait, was he in my toy drawer?

  "What are you doing?" I asked casually, trying not to laugh when he spun quickly, hiding something behind his back and blushing… everywhere.

  Damn, the man was gorgeous. His skin was a bit on the pale side that spoke of his tech job, but his body didn't speak of sitting in front of a computer all day, at all.

  Chiseled. That was the best word to describe him. Everything was chiseled.

  I had a decent body. I had nice muscle definition and a pretty good shape, but Kendrick was ridiculous. I could be wrong, but I felt like I might be watching his muscles breed, having little baby muscles that were growing up and going to college right in front of my eyes. He had like nine generations of muscles going on there.

  And his towel was pointing right at me. He must have liked my toys.

  He cringed, wrinkling his nose. "I was snooping."

  That surprised a laugh out of me, and I leaned my shoulder against the frame of the door. "Not even going to try to deny it, huh?"

  "If you didn't realize earlier, I'm not so good at lying," he grumbled, trying to nudge the drawer he'd been snooping in shut with his thigh. It wasn't going well. "This is why I'm the computer guy." The drawer made a muffled thump as it finally slid closed, but even from where I was, I could clearly see that his towel was caught in it.

  "True," I said, pressing my tongue to the inside of my cheek as I made another perusal of his barely clad form, trying to decide if I should mention the towel stuck in the drawer or just let him find out the hard way. "I don't think most PIs snoop wearing a towel. Not a whole lot of security."

  "Well, it didn't start out as snooping." He still hadn't moved, and he was still holding something behind his back. "I wandered in here, because I forgot which room you gave me." He lifted a finger into the air with his free hand, spinning it to indicate his room. "And we might need to talk about why a single guy has so many rooms." He stilled, eyes going wide. "You are single, right?"

  I nodded slowly, still fighting a smile. "Yeah. I'm single."

  "Good," he said, nodding a bit quicker.

  His eyes widened and he shook his head. "I mean, because I don't want to run into someone and not know if they are supposed to be… never mind." He closed his eyes momentarily, swiping his hand through the air. I was starting to see how humorous the whole rambling thing could be. I'd never really been on the other side of it.

  He took a deep breath, collecting himself, which would have been a lot more convincing if it wasn't for the fact that he was still standing in my bedroom with just a towel around his waist and hiding something behind his back.

  And he was still sporting that tent pole.

  "I came into the wrong room, thinking
this was where my clothes would be… and then I got curious." He shifted slightly, not enough to upset the towel, but enough that I could finally see what he was holding behind his back in the mirrored closet door and I actually snorted, reaching up to cover my mouth with my hand.

  His fingers were wrapped around my BPC, big purple cock, and he was gripping it hard enough, judging by the white knuckles, I wasn't sure it wouldn't be ergonomic the next time I used it.

  "Did you find anything interesting?" I asked, moving further into the room, easing around the end of the bed.

  "Uh… no. Huh uh."

  Wow. He's really bad at lying. Like, really, really, bad at lying.

  "Really?" I stepped closer, my eyes momentarily drawn to the way his stomach muscles quivered slightly. "Nothing at all?"

  "Uh uh," He tried to move, but that was about the time he noticed that his towel was caught in the drawer and he reached down quickly gripping the knot for dear life with his free hand.

  I leaned sideways slightly, pointedly looking at the closet door behind him before meeting his eyes again. "You know there is a mirror behind you, right?"

  I bit my lip when all the color drained from his face, and then surged back with a vengeance. I wasn't sure if I'd ever seen anyone quite that red before.

  When his body sagged, and he closed his eyes letting his head fall forward, I almost felt bad for him. "I don't know that I could be more embarrassed." He pulled his hand with the BPC out from behind him, eyes still closed and other hand still firmly gripping his wayward towel and presented the thing to me. "I wasn't going to do anything weird with it, I swear. I just saw it and­­––" he sighed, finally opening his big brown eyes and meeting mine, he shook his head "There really isn't anything I can say to make it sound any better."

  "It's not a big deal. I just walked in at an inconvenient snooping time. What were you supposed to do, throw the thing?" I asked, smirking as I reached up and wrapped my hand around the dildo… and his fingers. I gasped at the zing that traveled through my hand and I jerked.