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

secret of Number Two Eldon Court will finally be revealed.”

He knocked on the door.

It took minutes for someone to appear, a nurse dressed in night clothes.

“This is completely unorthodox, surprising a man in his condition—and at this hour, too.

“Sorry, but it couldn't wait.”

“It's a matter of life and death,” Jack added.

“That's rather dramatic, don't you think?” the nurse stated.

“Two people have already died,” Rich said.

“Two?”

“Aaron, and of course Elissa Saunders,” he said, “It's time to prevent another.”

* * * *

Rain began to fall just as the residents of Eldon Court began to awaken and the storm continued all day, an ominous, gray feeling settling over the rocky bluff, waves from the ocean crashing loudly against the surf. Everyone stayed inside, a perfect day to curl up and forget about what was going on. Except for one person, because he was busy making his way to each house, dropping invitations into the mailboxes, then ringing the doorbell to entice his neighbors to seek them out. They all had to wait until dark for the event, when the street lights would give the fallen rain a primal glow, guiding them en masse to the house known as Number Two.

It was mid-September, summer was waning, and all could feel the cold air whip across the open bluff. For Marc Anderson, the chill pervaded his bones, even while he couldn't be sure whether his nerves came from the wind or his apprehension about returning to Number Two. What kept him going was meeting up with Jack and Paolo on the way.

“What's going on?” he asked.

“We're about to find out,” Paolo said, “I trust we all got the same invite?”

They held them up, hand-writing clear on each piece of parchment.

“From Rose Emerson,” Edgar said.

The three neighbors stepped onto the porch, only to have the door open immediately. It was Parker who answered, and invited them inside. “Dane and Sawyer have already arrived.”

Indeed, they had, seated on the sofa, looking as nervous as the rest of them.

For Marc, it was too soon to be back inside this house, his mind filled with images of him and Parker indulging their desires. It was as though he could hear their cries, grunts, orgasms, he could feel that huge cock penetrating him. The walls know everything; the house had seen it all.

“I can't do this,” Marc said, turning to leave.

Paolo grabbed his hand, squeezed it in support. “Yes, you can.”

Marc looked into his friend's eyes and thought he detected something inside them, as though he knew the pain that tore at him. Did Paolo know about him and Parker? And was he the one who told Rich? Someone had to have, there was no other explanation for Rich finding the two of them in mid-fuck on the sofa.

“It's all going to be okay,” Paolo said.

Marc wanted to ask more, but he was distracted by a new arrival. In walked Danvers Converse, his tiny, bird-like body still able to carry itself with confidence, as though he knew the end game was here and he had triumphed. Was that what this gathering was all about, the group of them about to admit defeat? But before he could ask, Parker asked them all to sit. Chairs had been arranged in the living room, ten of them, designed as though they were soon to watch a play.

“You summoned me, St. John?” Danvers Converse said, his voice a sneer. “You said nothing of these. . . men being here.”

“Come now, Danvers, don't tell me you're afraid to be in their company,” Parker said, “especially here, at Number Two Eldon Court.”

“Number Two, doesn't matter which of the houses. Soon I'll own them all.”

“You fucking bastard. . .” Dane said, “you kill my brother and want our homes. . .?”

“Your brother tried to kill me,” he said, “and look what it got him.”

“Yes, death seems to be a common theme among us, doesn't it Danvers?”

All men turned to find who had spoken those words, and in the dim lighting of the room emerged a new player on the scene. Marc looked at the man, then at his neighbors, saw the recognition on Sawyer's and Paolo's faces. He was young, probably no more than twenty-two or three, and very cute; his resemblance to Parker was slight but noticeable.

“Troy, what the hell are you doing here?” Danvers insisted. “I told you, never to come back to Eldon Court.”

“I had to; it's time,” Troy Saunders said. “Time for me to return home.”

“Home?” Parker said, “This is my home now. I am George Saunders's heir.”

“You're a bastard son, if at all,” Troy said.

Marc watched as both men positioned themselves in the center of the room. While Parker was by far the more physically imposing of the two, there was a cocky confidence about young Troy that made Marc wonder if the kid knew something no one else did. But more questions and perhaps answers would have to wait, as the doorbell rang and everyone looked around, in wonderment over who else was expected. It had to be Rose, he thought; she had sent out the invitations and had yet to make an appearance.

Parker, staring Troy down for an extra moment, made his way back to the foyer, where again he opened the door to greet the latest arrivals. The look on his face indicated he knew exactly who was expected, and he quickly ushered them into a hushed room. There were three of them, beginning with Jack, who immediately made his way to Edgar's side.

“What's going on?”

“Just wait,” Jack said, “Rich has taken care of everything.”

“Rich?” Marc asked.

He whipped his head around, just in time to see his once-upon-a-time lover, the man he had betrayed and who had left him yesterday and not been seen or heard from since, enter the room. He wasn't alone; in fact, the man he was with was wheelchair-bound, and Rich was pushing it into the center of the room. The old man, frail, his head wispy with gray hair, did not look all there,