Wyatt-1(Lane Brothers, Book 1)(26)

“And she’s still alive?” All three start laughing when Ellie’s eyes grow round as she tries to stave off her amusement.

See, this is why after thinking things through and considering my best course of action, I didn’t just take her to my home to meet the family. They’re hogs and would keep her to themselves as much as possible.

While I like that about them, I’m in some serious need of bonding time with my baby, and they’re cramping my damn style.

“Wyatt cooks very well and he’s been taking good care of me. Most of the time, at least. I can’t say I appreciate his methods since normal men usually ask a woman out…but hey, sometimes weird is good, right?” She giggles, biting her lip in that way that makes my shaft go iron hard in a second.

“But seriously, what are you guys doing here?”

That’s my girl, smart as well as sexy.

Unfortunately, her intelligence is the one thing I see putting a cog in this wheel I have limping to the gas station.

The truth about why I don’t want her knowing yet is simple; I’m guilty, and while I wasn’t directly involved in what happened to her at Bolton’s hands, I was the reason she was taken. It took me so long to figure out what the little shit was doing that she was there for weeks by that time.

As my brothers and woman sit talking and laughing, as if they’ve known each other for years instead of minutes, I think back to that first time I saw her.

“Jesus, you Lanes are all the same. You think you can come out here and give me ultimatums and the little dog will just wag his tail and fall into line!”

“Bolton, you’re out of line and you know it. Ma and Dad spoke to Aunt Lynn and she told them everything. You’re drinking, doing drugs, and failing the semester. At this rate, you won’t graduate in the next ten fucking years!”

My cousin is a Conrad through and through, and if not for the fact that my father’s sister, Aunt Lynn, is one of my favorite people in the world, I wouldn’t be down here trying to get the snot into line.

He’s been this spoiled since I’ve known him, and the fact that it’s his father’s influence and hate for the Lanes only makes it all the worse.

Jerry Conrad is my aunt’s husband, Bolton’s father, and one of my father’s least favorite people on earth because the guy married into the Lane family for a handful of things that include money, power, and the ability to sit on his fat ass while they drain Aunt Lynn’s trust fund dry.

To say that Bolton isn’t any better is an understatement, because the kid is ten times more entitled and foul mouthed than his sire, and just being in his presence makes me sick.

And yet it’s been left up to me to drag my ass to Philadelphia and shove him back on track thanks to Aunt Lynn calling Dad with her pleas for help.

Could be back in New Orleans right now entertaining one of my many ”friends” of the female persuasion and nailing down a deal I’ve been hammering out for months.

Instead, here I am coming up on my twenty-ninth birthday, trying to reason with a snot-nosed twenty-two-year old who has already failed a year of college and doesn’t seem inclined to try much harder.

And why? Because my aunt somehow got it into her head that I’d give Bolton an internship at my company when he graduates. I should just leave the little runt to fail and save myself the headache instead of wasting my time standing on a college campus with young girls trying to catch my attention while I cuss Bolton to hell and back.

“You think you’re so great, you and those brothers of yours. I’ve got news for you, Wyatt, I don’t give a shit about you or that colony of rats you call a family,” he sneers, making my hackles rise.

It’s no secret that Bolton and his father hate our side of the family, and that my cousin hates me, specifically, because of an incident that happened when I was thirteen and he was around seven or eight.

The whole family got together for a barbecue and a fun day. Ma went to so much trouble arranging games and contests to keep the children occupied, and even though I and my two cousins Ben and Rick were way older than the little kids, we participated and tried to make the games as fun as possible.

Only Bolton and that ass he calls an old man weren’t interested in fun or anything family related. All they wanted was to win and show us all that they were better.

Too bad for little Bolton, I got pissed off when he shoved my cousin Angie in a race and sent her headfirst into the ground when she was on the verge of beating him.

The poor girl had a bloody lip and cried so hard it broke my heart to see her little five-year-old lip tremble.

So yeah, I may have gone into the touch football game with the intention of giving him a taste of his own medicine. No, I didn’t hurt the kid, I’m not a brute, but I did make sure my side kicked their asses and he lost.