Aiden: Vested Interest #2 (Vested Interest Series) Read online

  Aiden—Vested Interest #2 by Melanie Moreland

  Copyright © 2018 Moreland Books Inc.

  Registration # 1148533

  All rights reserved

  ISBN: 978-1-988610-06-1

  Edited and Proofed by:

  D. Beck

  Lisa Hollett, Silently Correcting Your Grammar

  Jodi Duggan

  Cover design by:

  Melissa Ringuette, Monark Design Services

  Interior Design & Formatting by:

  Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author's imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Karen

  This one is for you.

  As my PA, you make my professional life easier.

  As my friend, you make my world brighter.

  I love you for both.

  You fought for Aiden when he was only

  a few lines in a chapter.

  You’ve loved him the longest, so he is yours.

  Officially.

  And as always,

  My Matthew,

  Without whom I am lost.

  Always yours.

  Contents

  AIDEN

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Sneak Peek at Maddox ~ Vested Interest #3

  Chapter 1

  A Word of Thanks

  Books by Melanie Moreland

  About the Author

  IT STARTED THE way it always did. Voices, shouting, flashes of panic. Broken fragments of memories, images that blurred and blended into each other.

  “You’re just like your father. Worthless.”

  “He can’t read? What a surprise. He’s always been so stupid.”

  “I’m not paying for anything extra for him. If he can’t keep up, that’s his problem.”

  I was running, frightened, and out of breath. I needed to hide, to get away. Rocks hit my legs, and one even cutting into my neck. I felt the wet of blood as it seeped down the back of my shirt. I rounded the corner, ducking into the alley and behind the dumpster. I held my breath, trying to stay silent.

  The running feet stopped, the voices angry.

  “Where did he go?”

  “Do you think he’s in the alley?”

  “No, the little bastard is scared of his own shadow, he’d never go there. Let’s keep looking.”

  Like a miracle, they moved on, but I stayed huddled, knowing they could come back. Knowing that even if I avoided them today, tomorrow they would find me.

  My body shook as it recalled the number of beatings I’d taken at school. On the playground. At home. I could hear my gasps of air and feel the panic setting in. It wasn’t real, but I was useless to stop the barrage of fear coursing through me.

  Slap.

  “You worthless piece of shit! All you do is cause me disappointment!”

  “Please, Momma, not the belt . . .” I sobbed.

  “You’ll get that and more, you ingrate! I wish you’d never been born!”

  The pain from her strike was so vivid, I felt my body jerk in reflex. I heard my own shout. Still, I couldn’t break through the grip keeping me trapped in the past.

  The room was bright, the décor familiar. I realized I was in Greg’s office on that fateful day, staring at him holding a gun to his chin. Except, this time, it wasn’t him holding the gun. It was me. I had the gun pressed to my throat, staring at Bentley. He shook his head.

  “You’re such a coward.”

  “I don’t want to do this,” I begged. “Help me.”

  “I’ll be glad when you’re gone. You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass. I’ve put up with you long enough.”

  “No, Bent—we’re friends! You said so!”

  He shrugged his shoulder dismissively. “No, you were useful, but I’m done. You’re a waste of space and the world would be better off without you.”

  He turned, walking away and ignoring my pleas.

  The room felt cold, the air making me shiver. I looked around. I was alone, abandoned by one of the few people I thought I could trust. I shut my eyes, pressing the cold steel to my skin.

  “Stop.”

  My eyes flew open at the sound of her voice. Cami stood in front of me.

  “Don’t do this.”

  “I have no choice.”

  “You do.” She extended her hand. “Come with me.”

  “No. I’m not what you need. I’m not what anyone needs.”

  “If you do this, you’ll never find out.”

  I shook my head, pressing the gun closer.

  I felt her leave. The darkness surrounded me. I squeezed the trigger.

  With a loud gasp, I bolted upright in bed. I drew in much-needed oxygen, desperate to try to tamp down my panic. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I fumbled with the light, snapped it on, and glanced around the room. Still terrified, I ran my hands over my torso and head, feeling for the blood, the hole left by the gun. There was nothing except a sheen of sweat covering my entire body.

  Desperately thirsty, I reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, drained it, and tossed the bottle to the side. I hung my head, feeling my breathing return to normal and my heart rate slow down.

  It was a nightmare. Not the first and certainly not the last I would have.

  However, this one was different from before. More intense than ever. Vivid with the last image of Greg. I knew his death was still on my mind. It lingered on the edges, drilling itself down into my psyche and coming out when I tried to sleep.

  The last time I’d had a really bad dream, I’d woken beside Cami. She had soothed me. Held me close and comforted me until I fell asleep again. When I was wrapped in her embrace, the terror hadn’t returned.

  Tonight, I was alone, and I knew, without a doubt, it would come back. Repeatedly, until I dragged myself from my bed and started my day.

  But that was how it had to be because, nightmare or not, the message of the dream was correct and always would be.

  I was worthless, and she would never be beside me again. She deserved so much more than I could ever be for her.

  I rose and grabbed a pair of sweat pants. I’d work out, then head into the office. At least there, I could be something other than what I was in my dreams.

  I could be Aiden, friend to Bentley and Maddox. Part of a successful company. Respected by many, admired by some. Wealthy, humorous, and without a care in the world.

  It was a great cover. No one ever looked past it to my real self.

  The one I kept hidden.

  Aiden

  I INHALED THE scent of new car, looking around in appreciation at
the interior of the custom-made extended SUV that BAM had purchased. Two rows of seats, facing each other, so I no longer had to ride up front when the three of us traveled together on longer trips. Rich, thick leather seats, lots of leg and headroom, and thanks to Reid, decked out with every technological innovation possible. It was a comfortable way to travel, including a third row of seats that was easy to access or could be folded down for luggage. I had overseen the design myself, making sure it met all our specifications.

  Bentley slid into the back across from me before I could get out and open the door. He dropped his briefcase on the seat beside him and took the cup of coffee I held out with a nod of thanks. We both sipped in silence for a moment. He appraised the interior of the vehicle, looking pleased.

  “I like this one. Rides smooth.”

  I grinned. “It does. Frank likes driving it too.”

  Frank flashed a thumbs-up, making Bentley chuckle.

  “Good job, Aiden.”

  He sighed, leaning his head back against the smooth leather and crossing his leg over his knee. The movement caused his pants to ride up, exposing his socks. I was unable to stop the grin that pulled at my mouth.

  He was wearing bright red socks with purple and blue triangles. His tie was the same bright red. Unable to resist, I tapped his foot with mine.

  “Nice socks.”

  He opened one eye, the glare evident. “Shut up.”

  “I’ve never seen you looking so . . . jaunty.”

  He sat up, tugging down his pant leg. “Fuck off. Emmy picked them out. She says I need some color besides blue and gray.” He brushed imaginary lint off his knee. “She assures me they’re hip.”

  “They match your tie. Very coordinated.”

  “Aiden,” he warned.

  I held up my hands. “What? All I said was you looked jaunty. It’s good to try new things.”

  “Drop it.”

  “Sure.” I drained my coffee. “You know, a red pocket square would finish the ensemble. I bet Maddox has one you could borrow. Make you even hipper.”

  “I’m gonna hip check you right into next week.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  He lifted his newspaper with a smirk. “Or I’ll tell Emmy you made fun of her choices, and she’ll cut off the scone train.”

  “Bastard. That’s below the belt.”

  He pulled his jacket away, showing me the highly polished belt he was sporting. “It’s new too. Will I add that to the list to tell Emmy?”

  Our eyes met, both glaring, until I saw his lips quirk. Then we were both laughing. He picked up his coffee and finished it. “I told her I would try.”

  I chuckled. “Honest. I like the socks. It’s just something I expect from Maddox—not you.”

  “She wanted me to have them, and I had to wear them. You should see the other pair. Freaking polka dots with so many colors my head ached.” He stroked the silk around his neck. “The tie, at least, I can handle.”

  “No, she’s right. The socks are hip.”

  “But let’s face it. I’m not hip.”

  “You’re better than you were. Emmy will make sure you’re cool.” I smirked at him. “Maybe one day, you’ll be as cool as me.”

  It was Bentley’s turn to roll his eyes. “My greatest aspiration.”

  I leaned back, crossing my arms behind my head. “Yep. I know.”

  “You should have seen her face when she asked the cost of the socks. I thought she was going to have a coronary.”

  “She’s not used to money the way you are, Bent.”

  “I know. I have the feeling she never will be.” He laughed. “She was googling sock care all evening. I keep telling her to stay off the damn internet, but women . . .”

  “Especially your woman. She’s addicted.”

  The SUV stopped and Maddox climbed in, holding a tray of coffees along with a bag of donuts. He glanced around the vehicle with a low whistle. “Nice, Aiden. Very nice.”

  “I know.” I smirked, leaned over, and snagged the bag and another cup. The three of us lived on caffeine. It didn’t matter which cup I grabbed—we all took it the same way. Light on the cream, no sugar.

  “Greedy fucker. Maybe those are for me,” Maddox growled, trying to snatch back the bag.

  I reached in and grabbed a double chocolate with a grin. I knew those were his favorite. I took a big bite.

  “You snooze, you lose.”

  “Gross. Chew with your mouth closed. It looks like you’re full of shit.”

  “Well,” Bentley drawled, “if it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck . . .”

  Maddox threw back his head in laughter, and I grinned at them. I loved it when we were together and just being ourselves.

  I tossed the bag at Bentley. “Quack.”

  He handed the bag back to Maddox. “You pick first.”

  I snorted. Always the gentleman. So proper. Maddox grabbed a second double chocolate donut and handed the bag to Bentley who grinned and pulled out the third one. Maddox knew us all too well. He leaned forward and dropped the bag beside Frank. “One for you too.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Maddox. I do love me a good donut.”

  We all chuckled. No matter what we did, he insisted on calling us Mr. before our names. At first, it was Mr. Ridge, Mr. Callaghan, and Mr. Riley. He had finally agreed to use our first names, but he refused to drop the Mr.

  For a few minutes, there was silence as we sipped and chewed. Bentley once again crossed his leg, and I nudged Maddox’s foot, lifting my eyebrow toward Bent. Maddox followed my line of sight, his own eyebrows rising when he saw what I was trying to show him.

  Of the three of us, Maddox was the most stylish. Bentley was classic: dark suits, white shirts, silk ties. I hated suits—they felt constrictive, even when tailored to my broad shoulders. I preferred T-shirts and my leather jacket, but for the office, I opted for dress shirts and pants, only suffering a suit when absolutely necessary. However, Maddox always went all out. Vests, patterns, pocket squares, funky shoes. He would love the addition to Bentley’s wardrobe.

  Maddox remained silent, sliding his glasses up his nose, and tapping on his cheek the way he always did while thinking.

  “Nice footwear, Bent. Very . . . expressive.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “Just saying. Colorful. Unexpected. Emmy, I assume?”

  “Maybe I picked them out. You ever think of that?”

  Maddox shook his head, not hiding his smirk. “Maybe I dressed in drag last night and got freaky with a clown.”

  Bentley shrugged. “I always suspected you had some sort of circus fetish. Bound to come out.”

  I began to laugh, slapping my knee. “Bentley made a joke! Come out! Closet! Get it, Mad Dog?”

  “Yeah, Bentley made a funny. Let’s alert the media.”

  We all began to laugh, the sound of our amusement filling the car. I could hear Frank’s low chuckles from the front. He always liked it when the three of us started in on each other.

  Maddox wiped his eyes. “Seriously, what’s with the socks?”

  “Emmy’s influence.”

  “She’s trying to make him hip.”

  Maddox shook his head. “You can’t make someone hip. Either you are or you’re not. I hate to break it to you, Bent, you are not.”

  “I suppose you are?”

  Maddox lifted his legs, setting them on the seat beside me. He yanked up his pant legs. “I am.”

  Bentley looked horrified. “What the hell are those?”

  “These are what us hip people wear.” His socks were even brighter than Bentley’s—blues, greens, yellows—and two different patterns.

  “You call those hip?”

  “Yep.”

  “They don’t match!”

  “Exactly. The colors are the same, and their designs are similar, but no, that’s the idea. They aren’t mirror images. They’re mismatched on purpose.”

  Bentley snorted. “On purpose? Looks like you got dress
ed in the dark.” He raised one eyebrow. “Were you feeling along the floor for your socks after the clown incident, Maddox? That’s the closest you could get to a matching pair? You needed to get out before the red nose started glowing again?”

  “Fuck you, asshole. At least I buy my own socks. My girlfriend doesn’t have to pick them out for me.”

  “At least I have a girlfriend. I’m not bumping uglies with a clown.”

  Maddox sat back with a grin. “Maybe I’m not either. I might not have gotten dressed in the dark, but I wasn’t alone when I woke up.”

  I reached out and we fist-bumped. “Listen to Mad Dog. Getting himself a bone!”

  “More like a boner.” He winked. “Of epic proportions. The lady in question may not be able to put on her socks this morning, if you catch my drift.”

  Another fist bump.

  Bentley rolled his eyes. “You two are ridiculous.” He eyed Maddox. “Anyone we know?”

  Maddox shook his head. “I never kiss and tell.”

  “Unless it’s a clown.”

  He winked. “Unless it’s a clown.”

  Chuckling, I changed the subject, not wanting to delve into Maddox’s personal life. They would want to delve into mine next. That wasn’t happening, especially after last night.

  “You’re seriously interested in this property, Bentley? It’s a summer resort—not our usual style,” Maddox queried, sipping his coffee.

  “I’m interested in the land. I think we could do something special with it. The resort is old and outdated, but the land is prime. I wanted you both to see it.”

  Maddox glanced at me. “Hit me.”

  I pulled off my sunglasses and rubbed my eyes as I gathered my thoughts. Before I could speak, Bentley narrowed his eyes. “Aiden, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You look exhausted.”

  Maddox studied me, and I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable at the worried looks on their faces. I needed to shut that shit down—and fast.

  “Maybe you’re not the only one scratching the itch, Mad Dog.”

  “You were with someone last night?”

  I lifted one shoulder, dismissing the question. “Like you, I don’t kiss and tell. Now, can we move on to business?” I forced a smirk to my face. “Unless you want to sit around and braid each other’s hair and talk girlie shit.”