Steam (Homecoming Hearts #4)(66)

Trent was angry and confused. He and Ashby hadn’t even had dinner together yet. Where had they been flaunting things? At the wedding? Had Kiefer stalked the photographs of that weekend just like they feared he would?

“I don’t give a fuck what you do,” Trent growled, stepping to move past Kiefer. “Neither does Ashby. Nothing you do matters.”

“Oh?” said Kiefer from behind Trent’s back. “Like selling this pitiful excuse for a resort? You mean things like that don’t matter?”

Trent stopped walking. Slowly, he turned back around. “Sold it to who?” he asked.

Kiefer laughed, hooking his thumbs over his leather belt and angling the gold buckle so it glimmered in the hall lights. “See, I was looking for a new owner, someone who didn’t care about sinking cash into this money pit. Hard work, as you can imagine.” His eyes flashed their first true look of hatred. “It’s a real shit hole, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Trent clenched his fists. He knew the Grand Resort wasn’t as nice as it was in its glory days. But hearing him talk like that was like hearing him insult Trent’s parents directly.

“So I sold the land instead,” Kiefer said. He bit his lower lip and looked very pleased with himself. “Much easier. In three months this place will be flattened and in three years it’ll be a shiny nuclear power plant.”

The air rushed out of Trent’s lungs. “W-what?” he couldn’t help but stammer. “You can’t do that.”

“I can and I have,” Kiefer snapped. “You should have remembered what real power looks like before you fucked with me, boy,” he snarled. “When your pops and all his buddies start crying about their jobs and their homes, you can tell them it’s all your fault. You and that pretty piece of English ass. Oh, look! Speak of the devil.”

Trent turned toward the direction of the restaurant. Ashby was furiously rubbing tears from his eyes as he stormed toward Trent and Kiefer. He barely seemed to notice Kiefer as he marched up to Trent. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice clipped. He came to a halt, his arms folded and his phone gripped so hard in his right hand his knuckles were going white.

Trent blinked. He was reeling from the news that what was essentially his family home was going to be demolished out of pure spite and now Ashby looked livid with him.

“Of course,” he said, bewildered. “Can I meet you back at my cabin? I’ve just got to – something’s come up.”

“Damn fucking right something’s come up!” Ashby shrieked. He whipped his arms apart and unlocked his phone with shaking hands. Before Trent could work out what was happening, the screen was thrust into his face, showing a blog article.

British socialite tempts TJ Charles away from pregnant fiancée, the headline read. Heartbroken boyfriend Gordon Pritchard tells all from London. Distraught Elsie Hadden contemplates life as a single mom. There were photos of Trent and Ashby at the wedding and one of Ashby drinking a green cocktail in the resort’s own bar, laughing.

Then there was a photo of them fucking in the swimming pool last night.

Trent had to take a step back. He was dizzy from so much bullshit.

“Pregnant fiancée!” Ashby yelled. Tears were streaming down his face. “No wonder you were so conflicted!”

“No, Ashby,” Trent shouted over him. “It’s all lies, it’s-”

The camera flash startled him so much the words died in his throat. They’d attracted a few people in a crowd.

One of whom was Dez Starr.

“TJ!” he called out. “Was one home not enough? You had to wreck two?”

The light went again and again. Ashby staggered backward. “You?” he said. Trent’s head snapped between them. How did Ashby know this paparazzi scumbag? What the hell was he doing here, in Wyoming? “What happened to your accent, Dez?”

Dez ignored him. “He must be a magnificent fuck, TJ, to turn you gay and wreck so many lives.”

“Oh, Ashby here’s a real cannonball,” Kiefer drawled, clearly delighted with what was going on. Trent had forgotten he was there. Flash! Flash! Flash! Guests had their cameras out, filming everything.

“You piece of shit,” Trent raged at Dez. “You made all that up, all of it!”

“Not the photos,” Dez said, grinning and snapping some more. “Isn’t this where your mom died? You decide to piss on her memory some more?”

Trent raised his fist before he knew what he was doing.

But then hands were grabbing him and hauling him back. His dad was shouting in his ear. Darnell, the bartender, was using his surprising strength to help. Bob, the resort manager, was shouting at everyone. Dez was still rattling off his disgusting questions as people pressed in from all sides, his camera snap, snap, snapping away.

Trent shrugged everyone off him and turned from Dez to look for Ashby. He was pushing his way out from the crowd, his phone still in his hand as he sobbed and rushed for the door.

Trent didn’t give a shit about anything else right then. Barry could fix the lies like he did before. There still had to be time for them to do something before the sale of the resort was finalized. Right then, Trent had to get to Ashby and explain. Everything else could wait.

Dez kept hollering after him, but Trent figured someone must have held him back because he didn’t follow as Trent sprinted after Ashby.