Devils & Rye (Top Shelf Book 4) Page 3

  I held up my wine so she could see. “Great minds think alike,” I said.

  “Yeah, it appears that way.”

  It dawned on me that the last time we were at the lake house, she was far from being of age to purchase wine. Hell… she wasn’t twenty-one yet even now. Though I’m sure she just assumed I would be buying the groceries, so it was a non-issue. I couldn’t believe I would be sharing wine with… little Makayla. When had I become the old man?

  I paid for our purchases and gas when the older woman asked, “Where you all headed at this time of night?”

  “We have a lake house about thirty minutes from here,” Makayla offered with the kindest and most gentle voice. I think it would be impossible to not like her instantly on first meeting. “My uncle and I haven’t been there for long time.”

  The lady looked at me, and offered a smile. She was probably happy to hear I wasn’t just some dirty old bastard dating a young girl and taking advantage of her. My black Lexus SUV outside showed I had a decent level of money though it wasn’t overly showy, but on appearance alone, it could appear that I was Makayla’s sugar daddy.

  We headed back to the vehicle with our bags, and I glanced around pleased with what I saw… or could see in the darkness only lit by the almost full moon. It appeared like everything was just as it had been. From what I could see, there were no new buildings, no large supermarkets or chain stores. The road we’d been driving on was still a two-lane street with only a stop sign and no lights. It was almost as if time had stood still during the time I was away. My favorite town was waiting for me. Waiting for me to return with the promise of remaining just the way it had always been.

  Perfect.

  My home sweet home was perfect.

  “Do you remember the rest of the way?” Makayla asked as we drove back onto the road once I filled up the gas tank. “I can enter the address into my phone and help us get there if you don’t.”

  “I remember.”

  I would never forget. That house had been my haven, and even though the circumstances now that led us to the house were horrific, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiar excitement as we got closer.

  When I turned onto a graveled road off the main street, Makayla said, “Oh I remember this street! We’re almost there.”

  I slowed down to a near crawl. The road hadn’t been driven on often—once a month by the property manager and housekeeper—and it was obvious by the large pot holes that were all over and the condition of the road in general. I also remembered how many deer were all around, and I didn’t want to risk hitting one by going too fast and not being able to stop in time.

  “It’s funny,” Makayla said softly. “I still remember the feeling I would get driving on this road as a little girl. I would look out into the woods and watch for fairies and trolls. I knew they existed here because this place was always so magical.”

  I nodded with a smirk. I hadn’t looked for fantastical creatures, but I did remember a sense of calm and relaxation take hold during the drive on the isolated road each and every time. It had been the beginning of my vacation the minute my tires changed from asphalt to dirt.

  After about thirty minutes or so, I turned a corner to see the headlights of the car illuminate an old sign carved in a tree. The sign still hung with the one word:

  Home.

  “I remember when Papa carved that.”

  “I do too,” I said as I drove the car down the narrow driveway toward the lake. Rhett had been such a romantic at heart. There wasn’t anything that man wouldn’t do to prove his love for his friends and his family. Declaring that this place was truly home for all of us by forever etching the declaration into wood was classic Rhett Knox.

  When the house came into view, both Makayla and I let out a heavy breath as we stared in awe at the magnificence of the three story craftsman, eight-bedroom house, sitting against the backdrop of a glimmering lake lit by the nearly full moon. I knew the house would still be in excellent condition because both Rhett and I had paid for ongoing oversight and had just recently paid for a new roof for the house. At the time, it had seemed like an almost frivolous expense for a house both Rhett and I never used, but we both weren’t prepared to put it on the market either.

  Stepping out of the car, both Makayla and I didn’t bother with luggage or our makeshift groceries. We would get to all that later. By the speed in which Makayla approached the wrap- around porch, it was clear she was just as excited to enter inside as I was.

  “Same place?” she asked.

  “Same place,” I answered as I watched her run to a small electrical box near the front door. She lifted the cover and pulled out the spare key from what we had all decided a long time ago would be the hiding spot. I had a copy on my key ring, but it was charming and nostalgic watching Makayla run to its secret location like she had always done as a child.

  The memories flooding back were strong, but they were welcomed, and I enjoyed them. She had always been a darling little girl. Bouncing blonde locks that her mother always tried to contain, but Makayla had always wanted to keep free and wild. She still had those bouncing locks, and they appeared just as free and wild as they had before.

  The sound of the door opening snapped me from my thoughts. As we entered the house, I inhaled deeply.

  The smell.

  It still smelled the same—like cedar and cinnamon, hints of rich coffee, and laughter. If laughter had a fragrance, the smell of this house was the aroma.

  Looking around, everything was the same. The same large cherry wood table that sat twelve easily was the centerpiece of the room as it always had been. To the left side of the room was the large stone fireplace with the same damn floral couch that Minka had insisted on buying. I had liked to tease her that it reminded me of something a grandma would buy, but she’d adored it, and Rhett and I had left the decor decisions up to her. To the right side of the room was my favorite part of the entire house—the view. Rhett and I had made sure that the entire wall was nothing but large windows from floor to ceiling so that the view of the lake would be the only thing seen. Minka had placed another floral couch and two matching chairs in front of the window so we could just sit there on cool evenings and stare out onto the sparkling water as the sun set.

  God, the clenching feeling in my gut made me realize how much I had missed this place. How much I had missed Minka, Rhett and Makayla. I had missed the life that once was.

  “It looks exactly the same,” Makayla said in almost a whisper.

  “The property manager was under strict orders to maintain but not to change.”

  Makayla walked into the main room fully and made her way to the open kitchen that blended flawlessly with the open living area. The granite counters matched the earthy slate tiles of the floor that covered the entire downstairs. The inside of the house seemed to blend with the outside by our use of elements of the earth to decorate and build with.

  “I’ve missed this place so much,” she said with tears in her eyes. “Mama loved standing right here,” she said as she stood by the kitchen counter and stared out the window that overlooked the wrap-around porch and the Adirondack chairs that were positioned to take in the magnificent beauty of the lake.

  Makayla was right. Her mother had loved the kitchen. Minka had been such a fantastic cook and would spend hours cooking some meal that we would all sit around and eat while we drank copious amounts of wine and talked into the wee hours of the night. Sometimes we would invite other friends to join us, and other times it was just us. Though Rhett, Minka and Makayla weren’t my family by marriage or blood, they were as close to a family I had after Pappy had died. They had become my everything.

  Makayla wiped at a falling tear and then turned to me. “Let’s go get our stuff and get something to drink and eat. I’m starving.”

  Smiling and feeling relief that Makayla wasn’t about to break down into a fit of tears, I led the way back to the car.

  We were home.

  Home.


  5

  Makayla

  With a glass of wine in hand, both Alec and I walked around the house, taking it all in. Room after room, memory after memory, we walked in near silence as the house embraced us back. It was almost as if I could feel its wide arms swallowing me up and repairing a part of my soul I hadn’t known was shattered. I needed this place. I needed to feel close to my childhood again, to the good in my life, and to her… my mother. This house was her. It was her in every little knick-knack that was placed on ledges and shelves. I could see my mother in the books that were chosen to lie around in nice little stacks on end tables. I could feel her in the soft fabrics of the throws and quilts she had chosen for each bed in the eight rooms that had remained vacant for so long. I had remembered how she would make sure the best sheets and the fluffiest pillows were chosen for every single bed even if no one would be sleeping in them. She wanted this house to be perfect, and it had been. It still was.

  “Hungry?” Alec asked as we walked back to the main room which was just one open large space with no walls. The only thing that broke up the room was the large granite countertop that boxed in the kitchen.

  “I am.” I grabbed the bottle of opened wine as Alec grabbed the plastic bag of our gas stop goodies, and we made our way to my favorite place in the entire house—the covered, wrap- around porch. Large Adirondack chairs were scattered about, all positioned to get the optimal view of the lake. There were two large rocking chairs with a small wooden table between them which was my favorite place to be. I liked the rocking back and forth while I watched the birds fly about, and the squirrels bolt up the pine trees that were all around, but never in the way of our view. A hammock hung in the corner of the porch which had always been a favorite place of Alec’s, but he didn’t go sit there, choosing to sit in the rocker next to mine as he placed the bag of food on the table.

  “Nothing like beef jerky and wine,” he said as he opened the package of food while I topped off our glasses with more merlot. “A true culinary delight right there, I tell ya.”

  Taking the offered piece of dry meat from Alec’s hand, I turned my head to absorb the beauty of the lake that was illuminated by the large moon. “So pretty,” I said more to myself than him.

  “It’s a shame no one got to experience this place for so long.”

  “I always pictured that I would grow up, get married, have kids, and have them grow up coming here all the time too,” I said, remembering one of my childhood dreams.

  “That can still happen.”

  “Yeah right,” I said with a huff as I sipped on my wine, not looking at Alec. “You know my life. Do you see me having normal? Ever?”

  He was quiet for quite some time as if my reply had stolen the words from his body. But eventually he said softly, “You deserve normal. Hopefully that can happen someday.”

  With a smirk against the lip of my glass, I asked, “Do you really feel that way?” I released a sick laugh. “I thought so for a short time. When Papa had allowed me to finally move out of the house and start a life. I thought New Orleans and Spiked Roses would be my shot at normal. That didn’t even last a night. I didn’t even get through training before my not normal life came storming back in to sweep me away into the darkness I have been living in since Mama died.” I glanced over at Alec who was staring straight ahead with sadness in his eyes. “So whether or not I deserve normal, I am most certainly never going to get it.”

  “What has your father told you about everything?”

  I took a bite of the jerky and chewed for several moments wondering if I should tell Alec everything I knew. I had no reason not to be completely honest and open with him, but I had grown to doubt and be leery of everyone thanks to my father. “I know about The Iron Colt Brotherhood if that is what you are asking.”

  Alec turned and looked at me with wide eyes. “He told you about them? About everything?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  Alec’s eyes narrowed and his head tilted. Was he trying to read me? “What? What did he say exactly?”

  “That he—and you—are part of a secret society that goes back to before the Civil War era. The only way to be part of this society is via lineage or power and the ability to buy your way in.”

  Alec nodded slowly. “Did he tell you about the inner workings?”

  “I know that being part of the society can help make every man’s—who is willing to pay the price—dreams to come true. The power of the men involved, the connections, the favors that can be granted. Politicians have gained their positions because of the brotherhood. Investments that have formed multi billion dollar companies from nothing originated out of the brotherhood. Even things as simple as movie parts or book deals have come from the brotherhood. If a member asks for a ‘favor’, then the favor is granted by the other members of the brotherhood. But no favors come for free. For every favor you ask, you have to put your name on a rock that goes into a large urn.”

  Alec stood from his rocker, walked to the edge of the porch, and leaned against the banister of the stairs that led down to a grassy patch of land. “He told you about the rocks?”

  “That every year, rocks are pulled. The names on those rocks have to participate in a ritual of some kind. A ritual that could be deadly.” I took a long swallow of my wine. “I’m assuming that since I’m here, and Papa is not, that something has happened in regards to the rocks. Was his name drawn? Is he at the ritual?”

  “Did your father ever tell you about the ritual?” Alec walked back over to the rocking chair, sat down, and started munching on some more beef jerky.

  “No. He was never really open with much when it came to talk about the society, but especially about the ritual. Everything I know, I’ve had to pull out of him piece by piece. I would trick him sometimes and work my way on getting more info by pretending I knew more in hopes he would confirm and so on. I preyed on his distraction. He was afraid of the society. Fearful that they would get a hold of me for some reason. Every time the society got brought up, Papa would act agitated and anxious, so I knew there was a lot of secrets I didn’t know about.”

  “Members aren’t supposed to discuss the brotherhood with anyone but another member.”

  “He said that.” I wanted to roll my eyes. I was so sick of the damn secrecy. “But I feel that my entire life has been affected by this society. I feel I’m owed some sort of information. Don’t you think?”

  Taking a sip of his wine to wash down his food, he said, “This is a conversation to be had with Rhett. Not me.”

  “But will I have that opportunity any time soon?”

  Alec’s face hardened, and he froze with the glass to his lips. He glanced at me for a second and then back at the lake. There was something he wasn’t telling me. I could see it. I could feel it. The tension sizzled in the air.

  “What?” I set my glass down and turned so I could face him head on. “What are you not telling me?”

  No answer. He just stared ahead and chewed.

  “Uncle Alec. Please. I have the right to know. I came here without giving the slightest fight. The least you could do for me is be honest and keep me in the loop. I’m not the little girl you once knew. I’m grown now.”

  Alec stood again, walked down the four steps to the grassy patch of grass, and stood with his back to me in silence. After a few moments, I followed him and touched his arm which caused him to flinch. He glanced down at my hand on his upper arm and then into my eyes but didn’t say anything. I suppose he didn’t have to. I knew something was seriously wrong. It had to do with The Iron Colt Brotherhood, and I could see that Alec was bothered by what I was saying.

  “Is it the ritual? Papa once slipped in frustration and accidentally used the word ‘deadly’ to describe it a few years ago. I was angry that I couldn’t go out to the movies like normal girls could with friends, and he told me it was the night of a ritual and he wanted me to stay put and safe.” I squeezed Alec’s arm that I hadn’t released yet. “What is thi
s ritual? Is it really deadly? Is Papa part of it?”

  Taking a long breath, Alec finally turned to face me. “I don’t know everything right now. I’m in the dark as well. My letter said your father would be in touch soon and to stay put. I trust him enough to know that he will keep in contact, and we’ll know what’s going on eventually. I’m not going to jump to conclusions or get worked up over something we don’t know. Making assumptions isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

  “But he’s scared. Or he wouldn’t have asked for you to take me to the lake house to hide. Right?”

  “He’s being cautious and protective as any father would be.”

  “But he’s not here with us. That has to say something. He’s in danger right?”

  Alec took hold of my hand and led me back to the porch. “I don’t know, Makayla. I really don’t know. What I do know is that we can’t sit here and worry non-stop. We have to wait. You father is a very powerful and resourceful man. I know he can take care of himself and handle things. He asked that I take you here and watch over you, which I plan to do. I owe him that because of our past and our friendship.”

  His hand in mine felt good. It was warm and much bigger than mine. The touch gave me a sense of comfort, and I enjoyed the bodily contact. My father was not one for affection when I was growing up, and after my mother died, he grew even more distant. A simple hug or touch didn’t exist in my world. Not with my mother dead and me pretty much locked away in our house that had become my prison. I didn’t realize how hungry I was for physical contact until Alec’s touch of my hand overpowered me with foreign sensations. I could have held his hand all night and felt a sense of loss when he pulled his away after we got back onto the porch.

  “You are just like him, you know?” I said as I took my seat and poured the rest of the bottle of wine into our two glasses.

  Alec shrugged. “We were friends and business partners for a long time. I knew him for years. So, I guess it’s fair to say I’m a lot like him.”