Free Make Me Sweat by Avril Ashton Page B

something was off.
    He touched Jayce’s shoulder. “Why don’t you tell me something I
don’t know, Mr. Dumont?” He nudged Jayce and his friend’s gaze clashed with
Dak’s, confusion and bewilderment in their gray depths. Dak frowned, but Jayce
turned away abruptly, giving him his back.
    “I know she loves you.” Westin drew Dak’s attention back to him. “She’s
not the Ghost, neither am I, but she’s doing all this for me.”
    “Fuck. I need a drink if I have to listen to this bullshit.”
Jayce strode over to the bar and poured himself whiskey, downing the liquor in
one swallow.
    Westin eyed him. “None for me thanks.”
    Dak’s lips twitched. “Okay, start talking. Who are you to Ever?”
    “I’m the man she’s putting before you. She’s choosing her love
for me over her love for you.’
    Dak ached to punch him in the fucking throat.
    “Explain,” Jayce barked from his stance in the corner. 
    Westin shrugged. “There’s nothing to explain. Didn’t that say it
all right there?”
    “Listen, you little shit, don’t play with me.” Jayce leaned into
his face, nose to nose. “Are you fucking her?”
    Dak wanted an answer to that question, but apparently not as bad
as Jayce.
    His friend stared into Westin’s eyes, looking angry, horny, and
lost all at once. The two men appeared on the verge of tonguing each other down
in a hot second. Westin’s gazed dropped to Jayce’s lips then climbed back to
his eyes.
    “Would it upset you if I’ve been fucking her, Santana?” Westin’s
voice dropped lower, but Dak caught his whispered, “Would you rather I be
fucking you?” Jayce jerked away, Westin chuckled.
    “Enough already.” Dak grabbed Westin by his collar. Jayce stepped
forward and Dak growled at him. “Stay the fuck back, Jayce.” He shook the man
in his hands. “I want answers. Where’s Ever?”
    “That’s why I’m here.” Westin shrugged away from his hold and handed
him the binder. “These were taken from an accident about five minutes away from
your estate. Happened last night.”
    Dak flipped through the gruesome pictures with a puzzled frown. A
black Mercedes had been totaled. Blood and glass littered the ground. Didn’t
look like the driver of the Mercedes survived, but—“What does this have to do
with Ever?”
    “The Mercedes is hers.”
    Dak dropped into his chair. “She-she was in this accident?” God,
he couldn’t breathe. “She’s not—she’s—”
    Westin sat down next to him and placed a hand on Dak’s knee.
Jayce shifted over in his corner. “First responders said no one was in the car
or surrounding areas when they got there.”
    “What?” What the hell was he saying?
    “The cops saw drag marks and followed them, thinking maybe the
victim got out and managed to get away, but nothing.” Westin’s eyes filled and
he swallowed. “The marks ended at the road, they think maybe the victim flagged
someone down.” He looked away.
    “But you think differently.” Dak clutched his hand.
    “I think—I think the man she feared most, the person who
blackmailed us into doing this, has her.”  A neglected tear rolled down
Westin’s cheek. “He’s taken her, and this time, Simon, she won’t survive.”
    “Who has her?”
    Westin bit his lip, gaze sliding away.
    “God damn it.” Dak jumped to his feet. “Westin, tell me.”
    “Angus Brennan. You know him as the Ghost.”
    “Her husband?” Jayce piped up.
    “He’s not her fucking husband.” Westin swung around to snarl at
him. “The marriage, like everything else about our life in Ireland, wasn’t real.”
    “Wait, hold up,” Dak said. “You were with her in Ireland?”
    “We’ve been together since we were sixteen years old. Never been
separated.”
    “Together how?”
    “Damn it, Jayce. Not now.” Dak turned back to Westin. “You say
she’s doing this to protect you?”
    The man nodded.
    “Then tell me the story so we can get her back.”
    Westin cleared his throat. “We met