Unhinged (Necessary Evils #1)(50)

Noah shook his head. “No, thank you. This place is too big. It gives me anxiety, like I’d get lost and be doomed to wander the halls forever trying to find the exit.”

Adam wrapped his arms around him from behind as they looked out over the bigger of the two swimming pools. “How did I never notice how weird you are?”

Noah craned his head back to look up at him. “Your dad has a shooting range…in his house…and I’m the weird one? Maybe you’re just a spoiled brat.”

“Oh, I definitely am. It’s my job. Adam Mulvaney, spoiled youngest son of Thomas Mulvaney. Former model turned unrepentant playboy. Bedding actors and rich boys, wrecking cars, and spending money on dumb shit.”

“Sounds like a really hard life,” Noah mused.

Before he could respond, a voice rang out. “Adam.”

He spun around at his father’s voice, bringing Noah with him. His father wore a pair of tailored pants and a white oxford shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. Even at close to fifty, Adam’s father was striking, with silver black hair, gray eyes, and tan skin. He stopped short as his gaze fell to Noah.

“Dad. This is Noah.”

Thomas flicked his gaze to Noah, then back to Adam. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing somebody with you.”

“I told Atticus. And it’s not just somebody. It’s Noah. I told you about him.”

His father shot another irritated look at Noah then turned on his heel. “Let’s go. You’ve wasted enough time. You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”

Adam stood, blinking, shocked at his father’s rudeness. What the hell was his problem? His gaze cut to Noah, who seemed sad at his father’s casual dismissal but looked almost like he’d expected it. Still, he squeezed Adam’s hands that were still wrapped around his waist.

“We should probably get in there. Unless you think I should wait out here?”

“No. You have every right to be here. I don’t know what my father’s problem is, but it’s his problem, not ours.”

The meetings always took place in the locked room downstairs, accessible only with the keypad at the door. His brothers were already gathered. Asa and Avi perched on the large table, and Archer, August, and Atticus sat in the chairs. There were several pictures tacked up on the board, faces only.

When they entered, all eyes went to Noah. None of them looked surprised, so Atticus must have already broken the news that Adam was bringing him.

“Oh, are we allowed to bring strangers down here now?” Atticus asked. “You would never let Kendra down here and we were together for three years.”

“Kendra would have had us all on TMZ getting carted out in handcuffs,” Adam snapped. “Besides, Noah already knows about us.”

Archer gave Noah a calculating once-over. “How is that, by the way? How is it this stranger knows all our secrets?”

“I’m great at connecting dots,” Noah said, giving Archer the same cold stare he was getting.

“He’s not a stranger,” Adam snapped.

“You’ve known him for less than a week. That’s the definition of stranger,” August said drolly.

Adam’s skin began to crawl, heat flaring in his belly and radiating outward. “We’ve known each other for weeks.”

“You’ve been stalking him for weeks,” August clarified. “Hardly the same thing.”

“If you count the time I stalked him, we’ve been in each other’s lives for almost two years,” Noah countered, gaze defiant.

Archer snorted. “Two years? You’ve had a tail for two years and you never noticed? Are we really just going to sweep that under the rug?”

“Enough. Let’s just get to work identifying these men,” his father said, seeming far more impatient than usual.

“Of course, the baby gets away with murder,” Asa said.

“Don’t you all get away with murder?” Noah quipped.

Avi snickered. “We’d have been strictly clean up crew for a year if we’d had that sort of fuck up.”

Adam’s whole body flushed hot as his rage built. “They’re going to be cleaning your blood out of the fucking carpet if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Adam promised.

“Adam. Enough!” his father shouted.

Adam shot a startled look at his father. He never yelled. “He started it,” he mumbled, flicking off Atticus.

Thomas raised a hand, expression taut. “Not another word unless it’s about that board.”

Adam fell into a padded leather office chair, pulling Noah down into his lap, earning another disgusted sound from Atticus, who glared at Noah like it was Noah who’d harmed Atticus and not the other way around.

“These are the players we’ve identified so far. Conan Greevey, who was already on our radar according to Calliope.” His father paused and gave Adam a stern look. “And this guy is Paul Anderson.”

“He’s a cop,” Noah said, voice dull.

“What?” Adam asked. “Do you remember him?”

Noah gave a stilted nod, voice trembling. “He was there. In uniform. My father used to say if I didn’t behave, Officer Paul was going to take me to jail.”

Adam’s rage was a living, breathing thing inside him, a wolf pacing its cage, looking for somewhere to direct its anger.