The Insiders by Tijan

FORTY-NINE

I don’t want to say we all hid after that, but we did.

We stayed out of the spotlight. Gone were his trips to try to find out what my kidnappers were doing, or what his grandfather was planning. Once it came out who Kash was related to, where he was, and that there was a clock running on him taking over his shares in Phoenix Tech, the buck stopped there. Something was coming. No one knew what it was, but everyone felt it, and because of that, we were tense.

I mean, everyone was pretending we weren’t, but we were.

Kash and I stayed at his place until press found out where he lived, and after that, even though we could go in and out with relative privacy because of his basement parking lot, there was a trapped feeling that came with them knowing what building we were in. He’d gotten a few calls from the lobby about people trying to come in under the guise of delivering flowers or gifts. Kash told me he’d never dealt with that anyway, so the fact that he was getting calls said a lot. If he got any delivery before, whatever it was had been signed for by the front desk and placed aside until he retrieved it in his own time.

Management had also called to let him know that his neighbors were starting to complain.

Kash’s response was, “Deal with it, or I’ll buy the entire building and kick them out.” The calls stopped after that, and really, were his neighbors actually going to move out? This would all die down. Eventually.

Right?

Kash didn’t want to wait. After a few neighbors had started to try to meet, chat, or “socialize” with him as we crossed the lobby, or when one of the guys approached me when I was using the exercise bike in the gym—

Yes, let’s all fall over in shock. I worked out. Once.

I felt fate was telling me to get my ass in running readiness.

It didn’t last.

Back to the guy, though, because it wasn’t that we were being rude. At first, I liked some of the neighbors trying to reach out and be friendly. I did; Kash didn’t. He wasn’t like that, anyway. He didn’t need to make friends. In that respect, I was the more outgoing one. And it’d been a nice change from the earlier complaints. But this guy had been too much. He was hitting on me the second he saw me, propositioning me so I could feel what a real stud felt like.

My relationship with exercising had been quick and brief. Just like how that guy got handled.

A quiet phone call occurred, after I told Kash about the guy, and the next morning I saw him carrying boxes to a moving van.

Kash got the guy evicted.

And that was also the time we went to the Chesapeake and stayed at his villa. I’d talked to my mom on the phone, so I wasn’t altogether surprised when we got there and found her, fitting in like she’d never not been there.

Matt was staying in his old bedroom, which was in its own section of the mausoleum.

Seraphina and Cyclone were ecstatic. They now had Marie, Theresa, and Chrissy and Matt full time there. Kash and I were back, and they were over the moon.

Cyclone wanted to celebrate by having a bowling party, so we had pizza and bowled that night. We used their private bowling lanes on the estate, which was connected to the bar.

Somehow, that translated into a party, and a few of Matt’s friends came over.

So that night I got the pleasure of meeting Fleur, Victoria, and the third friend all over again. They were a lot nicer now, knowing who I was in relation to Matt. All except Victoria. She was frigid, but I hadn’t expected otherwise. She came in with her nose wrinkled up, seeing Kash next to me, and her attitude only got worse. It might have affected another person, but not me. I was glad she kept her distance. The other guys in Matt’s group, not so much. They came over, treating me and Kash like we were long-lost friends.

Chester. Tony. I learned the blond guy was named Guy. It was a family name for him, too. He was officially Guy IV. And of the males, after Matthew, he was the friendliest. Or maybe he was the most easygoing. That was a better word to describe him. He didn’t seem affected that I was Matthew’s sister, or intimidated by Kash.

He was the first to come over, slap Kash on the back, and ask him for a loan.

That was followed with a wink, but it broke the ice. Everyone in this group already knew who Kash was, but now that it was out, they weren’t sure how to treat him. They came in cautious, but when Kash rejected Guy based on his credit, everyone relaxed.

Well, for them they relaxed.

Victoria was still pissy. Chester was still dirty. Tony leered, and Matthew had a restless edge to him, but that was just them.

It wasn’t the first night Matt had his friends over, but over the next month, it wasn’t a common event. They came over twice more, mostly to commiserate with Matthew after he did a new interview, fulfilling the publicist’s plans.

We got an update from Martha, and according to her, it was working … regarding me.

Because I had completely left the spotlight and there were no sightings of me, I had fallen off the society pages and gossip sites. There’d been a few exposé pieces about me. They attempted to interview people from my past, but I looked and was glad hardly anyone from my local town was quoted. That said something. They were keeping quiet.

Martha was quick to inform us that this didn’t mean they forgot who I was, just that Matthew’s affair and the police charges brought against Drew Bonham were getting more press.

She didn’t say anything about Kash. The furtive glances she gave him said enough. And after a search online (which I had also taken a break from), I saw my guess was right.

He was still everywhere, but now the story was being moved to other sites, such as the financial pages, in addition to the normal gossip sites. The articles talked about how his new presence at Phoenix Tech would affect its stock and whether there would be a battle between Peter Francis and Calhoun Bastian, who reportedly had started buying shares in competing tech companies.

Interesting.

And alarming.

Kash saw me reading one of these stories, came over, shut my laptop, and picked me up. He was doing his whole thing of not talking by doing other things with me. It was working. I wasn’t putting up much of a fight, but the time would come.

Until then, I let him carry me to bed.

The next morning he asked me not to worry about “that stuff.”

Stuff. That’s what he called it.

I was gearing up for a battle one time, when he dipped his head down to my shoulder, his hand skimming over my body, and settled on top of me. Feeling the worry and exhaustion from him, I bit my tongue. Literally. He didn’t want me worrying because that’s all he was doing.

I did what I could, which wasn’t much.

I enjoyed my time with Kash through August. I enjoyed having my mother there. I wasn’t understanding the dynamics between her, Peter, and Quinn, but I wasn’t looking to cause a problem. I liked having her there. And I soaked up all the time I could with my siblings.

I continued work on my security system, and I searched Calhoun Bastian.

It was one of those nights when everyone was at the pool. A movie screen had been pulled out and positioned with a projector. They were planning to have a drive-in sort of experience, but lounging on inner tubes in the pool. Pizza, soda—and some healthy options were provided, because Quinn was supposed to be there, too.

I’d been swimming earlier, but excused myself. A whole buzz of hostility and forced politeness was in the air, and the longer Quinn stuck around, the more it grew. I felt bad because she was Seraphina and Cyclone’s mother. They wanted her there, but my mother was there because of me, and so a whole layer of guilt coated over me, weighing me down.

I brought my computer out to a lounge chair behind Kash’s villa. I was on the chair, my laptop between my legs, and I could still hear their laughter from the pool area.

And because I couldn’t help myself, I was doing my usual digging around for any information I could find on Calhoun Bastian. If Kash was going to take him on, which everyone felt was coming, I wanted to give him as much ammunition as possible.

“He knows, you know.”

Oh, snap.

I straightened upright in my seat, and I looked around to Kash’s patio door, which was open. Peter Francis was standing there, his hands in his pockets, his button-down shirt untucked from his pants, and his hair rumpled. He looked like he’d had a hard day at the office. His tie was gone, and he had the five o’clock shadow working on his jaw.

I could tell. A long-lost daughter just could.

A shiver went down my spine, one of those again, and I knew.

This was the talk. The talk.

Or I was assuming, since the first time we’d been alone had nothing to do with personal stuff between father and daughter.

I was ready. I was more than ready. This should have been done long before now.

Then he said, “You’re not helping Kash.”

He got me with that? He wasn’t fighting fair.

“What do you mean?”

Head down. Voice hoarse. I could do this. I could handle him. Just been years in the making, right?

He moved to the lounge chair beside me and sat, facing me, resting his arms on his legs, bent over.

I watched him, side-eyeing him, but he didn’t lift his head up. He kept it forward, looking at the ground or at his hands, I didn’t know. I just knew my father still couldn’t bring himself to look me in the eye.

“If you think Kash hasn’t been ready for this war since he was six, you don’t know who you’re sleeping with.”

It was another sucker punch.

I closed my eyes. I didn’t think I could do this while looking at him.

His voice dropped. “I met Calhoun Bastian when I was around your age, had my head filled with thoughts and plans and ideas like you do. I was going to conquer the world, and damn it, I got fucking close.” An edge of regret lined his words. He looked up now, his eyes ringed with the same emotion. So much of it. “I know this has been a long time coming, but for the life of me, I didn’t know what to say.”

About Kash?

No.

Comprehension flared, and I jerked forward.

Oh.

Oh!

Me. He was talking about me now.

I tried to close it down, but emotions surged up. My throat swelled. A lump was pending, and the waterworks were on deck.

No, no, no. I could not handle that.

Not anymore.

But he didn’t know any of that, and he spoke, his tone softening, “Want to know the most humbling moment in someone’s life?”

I frowned.

“It’s trying to explain to the daughter you always knew about, whose mother made the decision to keep her away and out of the limelight, how I wanted to care for her, love her, support her but I couldn’t—and that now, somehow, the reason it had been decided to keep her a secret never mattered, because here she is, her life threatened all the same.”

Whoa.

That was a total knockout.

He got me. Smack in the feelings.

“Um,” I whispered.

Stellar genius, here. Yours truly.

“I have nothing to say in my defense, especially after finally having you here and still not talking to you.” He laughed ruefully. “Your mother chewed me back and forth from China for that one. I got a fresh set of road rage this morning. The tire tracks are still smoking.” A soft laugh, filled with so much regret still.

“Truth is that I’ve no idea what to say to you. Still don’t. I’m here and I’m trying to figure it out, get my legs under me, but I’m failing. I’m totally failing, and I have no idea how to talk to the daughter who’s the most like me of all my kids. Messed up the first time I saw you, too.”

Something was opening in me. Something small, but something.

A small crack.

He kept on, still not looking at me. “I should’ve said this to you the first day you were pulled in after the kidnapping attempt. Hell. I should’ve just tried harder. Then I heard what happened and … shame.”

I was focused on my seat. My hands were picking at the chair.

“I was ashamed. The reason your mother decided to keep you away was the exact reason you were coming to me, and I was elated. I’d finally get to see my daughter in person. Not just a report on my desk, or a sound bite. Or knowing that she was applying for my scholarships, that she wanted a job where I worked. My daughter. Mine.

“You won those scholarships on your own, if you ever start doubting yourself. You did. Not me. I had no bearing on the team who picked the winner, but I was glad. I was damn proud of you, because I was still a part of your life, though there’s no reason you ever need to give me the time of day. You. I am proud of who you have become, and”—his voice dipped—“I am humbled, because all of that was your mother. Not me. I don’t know if you would’ve turned out the way you have if you’d been under my care.”

I knew who he was referencing.

“You don’t give him enough credit.” I lifted my head now. Matt deserved that from me. “Give him structure. Give him purpose. He’ll blow you out of the water.”

He held my gaze, his own eyes filling with a sheen of tears.

He said, “We tried.”

I bit out, “Do it again.” Matt would’ve owned a company by now, if he’d been pushed how I was. He hadn’t been. He was given what he wanted. “Challenge him, but not from disappointment. From pride. From respect.”

Peter nodded, ducking his head and rubbing his hand over the back of his hair. He gripped his neck before dropping and lifting his head again. “I’ll do that. You’re right. I’ve let things go lax since his mother died.” His voice grew thick. “I won’t do that anymore.”

Then we sat there in silence.

I didn’t feel I needed to say anything, to explain myself, to prove myself. Perhaps call me cocky, but I felt my record spoke for itself. And him … He’d already shared enough. Maybe it was good enough for the first real talk between us?

“I’m not going anywhere.” He needed to know. I spoke up, my chin lifting almost defiantly. “Just so you know. I ain’t going nowhere.” Grammar be damned. I spoke from the heart. “Matt. Seraphina. Cyclone. They’re my family.”

Kash.

I was staring back at him, daring him to challenge me.

His mouth curved up and he nodded. “I wouldn’t let you go anyway.” He nodded again before standing. “I have more to say, but we can talk another time. I think we should talk often, actually.” He started for the door behind me, but paused and pointed to my computer. “Calhoun has his own team. Every search you’ve done for him, I promise that he knows it’s you. And he’s reading enough from it if you don’t cover your tracks. He’ll know you care for his grandson. He’ll know your skill level, and he’ll know where you are every time you search.”

Why, I oughta … I straightened to my fullest height. My pride was hurting. “I’ve been covering my tracks. I had a whole program running to throw every IP address it can think of to block them.”

“It won’t be enough.” He gave me a sad smile. “You’re not the first to try and battle Calhoun like that. I’ve been warring with the man for twenty years now, ever since I met Kash’s parents. And when I say that man isn’t like anyone else you’ve handled, I mean it. You can do what you can against him, but it won’t be enough. I know it. Calhoun knows it.” He quieted a moment. “Kash knows it. If you want to help take him down, let Kash take the lead. He knows his grandfather the best. He’s the only one who has a chance at beating him. Trust me on that. Trust Kash on that.”

Trust Kash on that.

He said my man’s name in a tone like I didn’t know my own man.

I gazed down at the laptop screen after he left, an icon blinking, giving me Calhoun Bastian’s location, and I sighed, turning it off. All of it.

Maybe he was right. Maybe not.

What I did give him credit for was that he’d been playing this game a lot longer than me, and this was for Kash. I cared too much to be reckless. And with that in mind—and with the whole conversation between my father and me, which was letting me walk with my head a little higher, with an extra bounce in my foot, with a little less weight on my shoulder—I went in search of my man.

I went in search of my family.