Desperate Enemies 3 Adam Carpenter (books like beach read .TXT) 📖

blood that gushed over Converse's upper lip. He was about to step forward and take back the memory stick when a double-click of metal against metal drew everyone's attention to the archway where Converse had first appeared. A man dressed in a dark sports coat stood there, a pistol in his hand.

Without taking his eyes off of the three boys, the new arrival reached down and helped Converse to his feet. “We have to go, Mr. Converse. Now!”

Converse violently shrugged off his assistant. But before he melted back into the dark, he pointed to Dane. “You'll pay for this. I promise you.”

Kyle Montana decided that this was his cue to leave as well. He didn't get far, though. Sheriff Patterson and two officers from the Wonderland police were already waiting outside. Kyle's friends had already been detained. Danvers had slipped away.

Dane stood with Sawyer in the doorway of the rotted house. Rose was right about one thing—it does help to have connections. That evening, the boys returned home with their stolen property and the $1,000 that Kyle had tried to blackmail from them. As Rose's character so eloquently put it in Cat and Mouse, “Sometimes, to get the upper hand, you have to do something underhanded.”

* * * *

Paolo laughed and poured himself another glass of wine. “Oh, I wish I could have seen you pop that bastard Converse in the face!”

Dane smiled. “It felt great, I have to admit.” He made a mental note to ask Jack about letting Dylan DeMille run a self defense class at his yoga studio. “Aaron would've been proud of me.”

He walked around the room to collect his thoughts. Here, in Aaron's house, Dane couldn't stop thinking about his brother. On the far wall was a photo of Paolo and Aaron, a vacation shot from Mexico or Aruba. They looked so happy. Dane touched the glass, forming a connection to his lost brother.

“Did you know that Converse and George Saunders were lovers?”

Dane's head whipped around. “What?”

Paolo brought Dane up to speed on the meeting at Jack and Edgar's house. Dane was floored. He always assumed that Converse was the focal point of this mess on Eldon Court. But more and more, it seemed like crazy old George was the center of things. Married guy. Beautiful starlet mistress. A vindictive gay lover.

And don't forget. . .

Dane plopped back down on the sofa, across from Paolo. He didn't want to get ahead of himself. “Let me tell you what happened next. Sawyer left early the next day for Los Angeles. The L.A. Fashion Awards were two days ago.”

Upon arriving in the City of Angels, Sawyer retrieved his luggage and grabbed a cab to the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills. The late afternoon traffic in West L.A. was a bitch, leaving Sawyer with nothing to do but worry about Converse.

His clicked on his cell phone and scrolled through his list of contacts, finding “Tyler Wood” almost immediately. Sawyer wanted to congratulate his client on the award he'd receive tomorrow: Designer of the Year. But he also wanted to break the news about that sex video. Better Tyler hear about it from Sawyer himself than. . . well, God, anybody else. The call went straight to voice mail.

The cab picked up speed as it finally turned off Santa Monica Boulevard onto Doheny Drive. In moments, he arrived. So, too, had the rest of the industry. A phalanx of cabs and town cars were lined up in the circular driveway, each discharging a slew of beautiful people dressed in a calculated laidback style. What Sawyer liked to call classy-trashy.

It took far too long to check in and reach his room. God, he needed a drink. But Sawyer really wasn't in the mood to mingle. He was seriously eyeing the minibar when his cell phone chimed. A text from Dane read, simply, “Call me.”

Much as Sawyer loved Dane's sexy voice, he yearned to see his lover. Actually, he wanted much more than that but visual gratification would have to do. He pulled his laptop from his carry-on bag and pressed the power button. He then activated the Skype application to place a video call back home.

“Hey Saws.” Dane's image appeared onscreen. He was wearing a white T-shirt and khaki shorts. A wave of homesickness washed over Sawyer.

“Hey sweetness. You called?” Dane's face couldn't hide the bad news. “Oh no.”

“Yeah. It's all over the Internet.”

The model backed away from the table and blew out a long breath. Damn you, Converse. Just then, a sharp rap at his hotel door broke the tension. “Now what?”

Dane offered reassurance. “Sawyer, no matter what—we're in this together.”

“Yeah. . . even on video.”

The knocking became more urgent.

“Hang on, Dane. . .” He opened the door to find a middle-aged man with recently colored hair, expertly styled in a vain attempt to hide his balding pate. His face was also colored in shades of red. Max Melbourne, Sawyer's agent, was fuming.

“I can't believe this!” He huffed into the room. Sawyer closed the door behind him. “I. Just. Can't . . . believe it!” Melbourne spun on his heel and faced Sawyer. His hands rose in mock adulation. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the great Sawyer Block. Handsome. Straight.” The agent laughed derisively.

“Max, I—”

The older man pointed with accusation. “You lied to me, Sawyer. You lied to everyone. And now, you're damaged goods. EVERYbody has seen that tape of you and that, that escort!”

“Escort?”

“Escort, prostitute! Whatever!” Melbourne shrugged off his jacket. “I've got a good mind to drop you from the agency.” He shook his head. “And what is Tyler Wood going to say? If I lose his account, you're going to pay, mister! The only modeling work you'll get is a circular for JC Penny, I'll see to that.”

“But Max—”

“FUCK YOU!” He took a menacing step toward Sawyer. And when that didn't make the model flinch, he swung and slapped him with an open hand. “Fuck you!” For a moment, Melbourne looked almost apologetic. An