𝐕𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐃 ❷

𝟏𝟐. ✭ 𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀 ✭

I'm currently sprawled out on a chaise lounge next to a Bösendorfer piano bored out of my mind. I've been listening to Brooks, my parents, and Torey arguing for the past hour since my brother had insisted on coming home. Apparently he didn't want to be in a place that 'smells like fucking death.' You wouldn't think he was a man that had just been on the brink of it not that long ago. No, Torey's voice was full of serious authority, angry even. Sometimes his tone teetered between vapid hatred and menacing. It's a side of his personality that I've never experienced— a scary side. I am starting to see that these last seven years have changed my brother quite a bit.

His voice used to be used for things other than spewing malice and ill intent. My brother had always been one to tease and flirt. He always had a sarcastic or arrogant retort for just about everything but something I had missed very much about Torey was the fact that he could sing. The sound of his voice was deep and melodic, something he didn't share with anyone outside of the family. It's a talent not many knew he had.

My head lulls to the side, eyeing the Bösendorfer. One would think that a guy like my brother wouldn't possess the delicate talent of playing the piano either. He did look rather odd seated at it because of his size. That didn't change the fact that he took to playing it quickly after our father insisted he have skills other than violence and brute strength. My father played effortlessly and Torey took after him, biology having nothing to do with it.

Apparently growing up in an affluent family meant my father had to be good at just about everything. It was something that I used to resent about him, among the many other things I've resented him for. Always so focused on business. Always on top of the game. Always there for charitable events. Always there for everyone but my brother and I when we were children. That responsibility had been left to my mom and dad.

I grab ahold of my hair and twirl it in my finger eyeing its' natural color. A color that also belongs to my father. For so long I had dyed it to match the rest of my family, not wanting to be his biological daughter. I felt no connection to him in my teen years and I still don't have much of a connection with him still. My mother has often told me I inherited his temperamental personality and I suppose that's true. My bluntness and attitude are a direct result of being raised by both her and my dad though.

There's a movement off to my left that catches my attention. The man in the suit is probably my least favorite personal protection yet but I thoroughly enjoy toying with him. "Hey Tommy, could you do me a favor?"

"It's Thomas."

I snort and quirk a brow. "Mkay Thomas, you're telling me you don't go by Tom? Tommy? Tomcat? Or any other variation of your name?"

"No. It's just Thomas."

"So, what you're saying is, T-boy Fuck-toy is out of the question then?" His lips go into a flatline. He's been putting up with my antics this entire afternoon and appears to have hit his tolerance level. "Jeez Louise, take a damn sedative and relax. I'm just fucking with you."

"Do people even say Jeez Louise anymore?"

"Well I just said it so I guess they fucking do." He just shakes his head slightly and I can tell he wants to roll his eyes. "So, like I was saying. Can you do me a favor?"

"Depends on the favor." He quips.

"I was wondering if you could give my tootsies a little rubbsies." I make a show of lifting my leg and wiggling my toes at him. He looks mortified and visibly cringes. "What? Are you not a foot guy? You definitely look like a foot guy. I can totally see you jerking it into a pair of high heels or something." Ah, I love that look. The look of pure mortification and surprise. "Cat got your tongue, Tomcat? Not much of a conversationalist?"

"There's no need to be a conversationalist with you around. Considering you can talk enough for two people." My brother winces as he comes into view. "You were never one for keeping your mouth shut."

"Raahoooood. Just plain rude."

"If anyone knows about that it's you."

"You're one to talk."

"Hey Thomas, want to fuck off?" There's that look on his face again. I chuckle under my breath. "You know, give my sister and I some time to catch up."

"But sir I—"

"I said fuck off." The vitriol in those last two words has the hair on my arms standing at attention. The look on his face is menacing and it has Thomas quickly making his way out of the room. "Pricks like him are fucking insufferable. I used to make men like that my bitch."

"Ah yes, I heard you go both ways now." His jaw ticks and his gaze hardens. Oh, he doesn't like this topic. "I may or may not have tried to sleep with your boyfriend a little. He's hot."

"He is not that and I do not go both ways."

"But you just said you like to make men your bitch. Sooooo?"

"You're taking it out of context." His tone flat. "I meant that I used be quite persuasive in the physical intimidation department. Nothing else."

"Are you sure because you give total top vibes." I look him over thoughtfully. "Yeah, you know you kind of remind me of dad in that department."

"Adri?"

"Yes?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Like someone telling me that is actually going to make me shut up. Puh-lease." I snort out a laugh and then look him over playfully. "So, if the hot blond is not your boyfriend then do I have the go ahead to sleep with him. He has a rather immaculate body. I think I would like to feel it all over mine. You know, doing naughty and lewd—"

"If you want to sleep with a guy that I have Eiffel towered with then, by all means, be my guest." He interrupts, making an offhanded gesture that suggests he doesn't give a shit.

"So you wouldn't mind if we fucked?" His jaw ticks again which tells me that he, indeed, would mind. "Mhmm. I see. Sure you don't want to put your towers together? You know, have some sword fight action. A duel to the little death. You know because in French that's what the all an—"

"As I said when I came in here, you talk way too fucking much." He spears a hand through his thick black locks. "You still have that charming quality of trying to get under everyone's skin." His tone laced with sarcasm but he's not wrong.

"What can I say? I like making people uncomfortable. It's a talent."

"About the only talent you have." That stung more than I am going to let on.

"Speaking of talents, can you still play?" I nod my head over to the piano. He shrugs, eyeing it uneasily. "Why don't you give it a go?" He shakes his head. "Come on. Don't make me beg."

He waves a hand over his body with, "do I look like I'm in ideal playing condition?" I give him a pout. "I haven't played in nearly a decade, Adri. It'll probably sound like shit."

"So? I imagine it's much like riding a bike. Come on, don't be a pussy, play me something." Goading Torey usually always works and it seemed to do the trick now. He strides over to the piano trying to look as cocky as ever but I can tell its a facade. He's in a lot of pain. When he gets to the bench he pulls it out slowly before sitting. The cringe of a wince he makes is not lost on me. I sit up and say, "forget it, Torey." He rolls his shoulders back and tilts his head from side to side. "I'm serious, I was just fucking with you."

"You don't want to hear me play?"

"Of course I do. I have missed hearing you play." In truth, I have missed everything about my brother. I don't know what I would've done if things had gone the wrong way. "But not if it's too painful for you. You were stabbed a stupid amount of times a few weeks ago, remember?"

Torey immediately glares at me. "Do I remember? Yes I fucking remember, Adri." He looks back at the piano. "But I'm fine now."

"That's debatable."

"Adri, for the love of Christ, will you just shut up?" I hold my hands up in surrender and lean back, getting myself comfortable again. He flips open the fallboard and eyes the keys warily. "It's been a long time." My brother's voice was low, nearly a whisper and I knew those words were not meant for me but for the musical instrument in front of him. He cocks his head to the side, eyeing me with, "any special requests?"

"I'm thinking Chopin. Or maybe Debussy."

"Oh yeah, sure, no problem. Let me just play a masterpiece after not touching a piano in forever and being stabbed."

"I don't know. Play whatever comes to your mind."

He's hesitant for a moment, fingers grazing the keys but not putting any weight on them. Then he does. And just like I had thought, it was indeed like riding a bike for Torey. I watch as his fingers dance back and forth over the keys gracefully, playing something that can only be described as mournful. His eyes are so focused and his face is filled with so many different emotions, the only time my brother displayed such a plethora of them. It isn't perfect, no, he occasionally slips up, whether it was from not playing or pain I'm not entirely sure. After one final set of intensity he finishes on a light note.

"I never knew you could play." Brooks' voice has me looking over to see the blond man standing in the doorway. There's a look of wonderment on his face as he eyes Torey. Torey stands immediately and I can tell he instantly regrets it as he nearly falls over. There's a sharp sound from the piano as it catches him but in an instant Brooks is at his side. He wraps my brother's arm around his shoulders and lifts him up.

"I've got it." My brother grumbles to him, trying to push him away but Brooks doesn't budge. "I said I—"

"No you don't." He deadpans seriously. "I am not lettin' you go until I get you somewhere that you can rest. You need to rest, Tor." Torey grits his jaw and casts Brooks a look that would intimidate anyone, well, it would seem not quite anyone. Brooks just gives him a dismissive glance. "Save your bravado for somebody else. It doesn't work on me. It never has."

My brother smirks at him. "Maybe not the bravado but something about me definitely works for you." Then he winks. My brother winked at him.

"And you say all the two of you did was Eiffel Tower someone together." I slap on a southern accent and add, "if I didn't know any better I'd say y'all two frotted during that experience as well. Maybe played a little Brokeback in the background."

"What did I just walk into?" Braxton pauses right outside of the room, looking between my brother and Brooks.

"Thank goodness it's you and not Thomas." I air quote the last bit. "And nothing. My brother's boyfriend is taking him somewhere comfortable to relax."

"We're not together." Both Brooks and my brother pause and look at one another uncomfortably because they spoke at the same time.

"Whatever." Torey looks away from everyone. "Just take me to bed."

"Shouldn't you heal first before getting frisky, brother?"

"Adri, I swear to fucking god..." His eyes are blazing angry blues. I hold up my hands and step out of the way so the two of them can pass. Once they leave the room Braxton regards me with a shake of the head.

"You really have a way with people, you know that?"

"Indeed I do." As if to make a point I saunter up to him and a smile tugs at his lips. "Did you miss me?"

"I'm not paid to miss you."

"That doesn't mean you didn't. I seem to recall you working off the clock just to take me home. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to get me all by myself. If my dad hadn't shown up I may or may not have let you have your way with me."

"Is that so?"

"It is."

"What way would you want me to have you?"

"Every. Single. Way." His green eyes darken. "Any and every way you wanted to."

To my surprise, he leans forward, putting his mouth directly next to my ear. "Trust me when I say I would have you every single way and on your knees begging."

Oh he's a dom. Ohhhh yes yes yes yes.

"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?" I whisper into his ear much like he had mine. "I can be a good girl but only if you make me. Do you think you could make me?" I lick the outer shell and feel him tremble slightly. "I tend to need a strong hand. Think you could be the man to give me one?" He pulls away slightly, just enough to be able to look at me.

"You have no idea the things I'm capable of."

The loud clearing of a throat has him jerking away rapidly and taking two steps back. I look over to see my dad standing there, tattooed arms across his broad chest. He's eyeing the guard in front of me in an irritated manner.

"Braxton, I'd like to have a word."

"Sir." He doesn't look back to me before heading over to my dad.

Great. Way to kill the mood, dad.

The two of them walk out of the room together and Thomas returns. I immediately frown. "Oh great, you're back!" He doesn't say anything to my overly fake tone. He just goes back to where he was previously standing and I plop back down on the chaise.

A/N:
Random update.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Who would've thought Torey played the piano?