Fate (Steel Brothers Saga #13) - Helen Hardt Page 0,24

your money back and then some.”

He was right. I always had. I was in the black with them. I didn’t need the money, but so far, their enterprise had been a solid investment. I’d be stupid not to keep it up. I’d known these guys since we were teens. Surely they wouldn’t be doing anything bad with my money.

“Wendy was here yesterday. If you needed money, why didn’t she ask for it?”

“This is something we’re doing without Wendy,” he said.

“Tom and Larry?”

“Yeah, they’re with me. We stand to make a fucking shitload of cash.”

“How’s Wendy going to feel when she learns you dealt her out?”

“No reason she has to find out.”

I scoffed. “Wendy always finds out.”

“Not this time. By the way, speaking of Larry, his kid sister’s here. She’s supposed to be one hot piece of ass.”

Red anger whirled into me like a cyclone. Within a second, Theo was pinned against the wall, my hand at his throat. “Don’t ever talk that way about her again.”

“Whoa. Hold up. Larry says she’s gorgeous. That’s all I’m saying.”

“You said hot piece of ass.”

“Which means gorgeous. Fuck, Steel, what’s wrong with you?”

I let him go. “I’ve met her. She’s a nice girl. She’s not a piece of ass.”

“But gorgeous?”

I nodded, though gorgeous didn’t even begin to do Daphne Wade justice. “Keep your hands off her.”

“Steel, I have no interest in Larry’s sister or any woman right now. I’m building a business. I’m going to triple my assets by the time I’m thirty.”

I didn’t doubt it. Theo was one of the most driven people I knew, possibly even more driven than Wendy.

Or not. Wendy became possessed when she wanted something.

And the something she wanted was usually me.

She was a tomcat in the sack, no doubt. And she had a killer body and killer mind that challenged me in many ways.

But she wasn’t the one.

She’d never been the one.

The problem was…she thought I was the one.

If I was going to have a shot at something special with Daphne, I had to make sure Wendy understood we were truly over.

Nausea crept up my throat at the thought. Dealing with Wendy would not be fun.

I walked to my bedroom and into the closet, where I kept my locked safe. My dad had taught me early to keep my checkbook and other bank stuff locked up. I dialed the combination, opened the door, and withdrew my checkbook. I quickly wrote out a check to Theo, walked back to the living room, and handed it to him.

“Muchas gracias,” he said.

“Spanish?”

“Yeah. Why not? I’m thinking of changing my name. What do you think of Jorge Ramirez? Or Milo Sanchez?”

I shook my head. “You’re nuts. You’re Greek, not Hispanic.”

“My coloring works. On the other hand, maybe a Greek name would be better.” He wrinkled his forehead. “How about Nico Kostas?”

I shook my head again.

“Or something simple. John Smith?”

“I’m sticking with ‘you’re nuts.’”

He laughed. “Maybe so. Maybe not. You never know with me, do you, Steel?” He took the check and left.

Chapter Seventeen

Daphne

Patty sneaked in again around six the next morning, waking me up. Not that I minded, really. I had to get up anyway for the day’s events. More orientation this morning, and then registration in the afternoon.

Then a date with Brad Steel at five.

An actual date. Not a double date with Sean and Patty. I’d be alone with him for the evening.

I wasn’t proud of the fact that I’d never been on an actual date. I’d been pretty young before the wreckage that was my junior year in high school, and my experience with boys before then was always as a participant in silly games in a group atmosphere or on group dates.

Senior year, the other students seemed to avoid me. We’d kept my hospitalization a secret. Word on the street was that my mom had sent me to London to stay with a relative that year because it would be a terrific experience for me.

I wasn’t ashamed of my issues. The only thing that truly bothered me was the lack of memories. Losing months of your life was freaky, especially at such a young age. I should have been in school, joining clubs and going to dances. Learning how to date. Instead, I was cooped up and out of my head.

Severe anxiety and depression. That was my diagnosis, according to my mother. Funny thing was, I didn’t recall being anxious or depressed, because I didn’t recall much of anything about that year.

And I still had the nightmares, but I