ROMANCE: Mated to the Bear (Stepbrother Paranormal Shifter) (Threesome Taboo Romance) (51 page)

Chapter 7

Alan sped down the road and arrived at the Hart Family Mansion in half the time it usually took. His eyes throbbed and his gut turned. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but Alan was positive that Maxwell Hart would know where he stood when this was through. The first thing that needed answering was how Max knew his stepsister and if he was going to take care of his offspring.

This son of a bitch is going to know where I stand.

Anger swelled in Alan beyond anything he ever experienced before. After three weeks of no answers, not only had he discovered that Katrina was Tiffany, but he’d finally uncover the identity of the blond woman.

“Shit!” he whispered to himself. It occurred to Alan that he easily could’ve found out from Tiffany who the masked blond woman was.

He screeched his car to a halt short of the closed gate at the Hart Family Mansion entrance. Alan repeatedly pressed the buzzer and the gate slowly opened. Hardly ajar, Alan laid into his gas pedal and scraped the sides of his prized Audi on the metal gate. At this point, his hair could’ve been on fire and he wouldn’t have even noticed.

A security guard came down to greet Alan this time.

“Hey, boss, you here to see Mr. Hart?”

“What the fuck do you think?” Alan recognized the asshole from the night of the masquerade ball. He was one of the goons that carried out the beaten butler. The guard raised his eyebrow.

Alan sprinted up the steps and let himself in. Unlike the last time he visited Maxwell, no one raced after him. The young billionaire bolted through the hallways and into the west wing. He grabbed the knob and was fully prepared to excuse whatever female was attached to Maxwell’s cock this time.

He tossed the door open and it crashed into the wall behind it. Maxwell was seated at his desk, relaxed in his swivel chair and conducting a phone call. He was still fully suited up, but his tie lay undone on his collar. The eccentric billionaire must have been just finishing up for the day when Alan burst into the office.

Startled, Maxwell looked up to see his friend, red-faced and drenched in sweat. He held his finger up and continued the conversation. Max started to turn the chair away from his office door so that his back was to Alan.

“Hey! We have to talk!” Alan demanded.

Maxwell held his hand up, signaling to Alan that he needed a moment. Alan’s blood boiled and he was tired of having to wait for Maxwell Hart. All the times he humored his friend and gave him the benefit of no interruption, Alan was ready to redeem his turn. He wanted to speak, be heard and not interrupted by this ego-maniacal, self-centered piece of shit.

The infuriated stepbrother stormed across the room, and around the office chair to face Max. There was no use, Maxwell was, for a change, conducting business and showed no signs of pausing for his friend. But, today wasn’t a lucky day for Maxwell Hart. It all finally came to a head and Alan grabbed the phone from Max’s hand. Alan raised his hand above his head and spiked the cell phone into the ground. Plastic and glass shattered all over the floor and the business call was over.

Maxwell burst to his feet and shoved Alan back.

“What the
fuck
was that for?!” Maxwell yelled.

“I’m sick and tired of waiting for you. For the last five fucking years, you have made me wait on you, and tolerate your bullshit. Time after time after time after fucking time.” Alan closed in on Maxwell and came nose to nose with him.

“Dude, you need to back the fuck up and start explaining yourself. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Max shoved his friend harder and Alan spilled into a bookshelf. The shelf edge dug into his low back and a bolt of electricity shot from his ribs. Through gritted teeth, Alan stood back up and raised his chin. “Now, don’t you come bowing your chest at me, Alan. I’ll fuck your world up!”

Alan dove for Maxwell’s legs, grabbed him around his waist and then lifted the man with all his energy. Both men tumbled over the swivel chair. Struggling with one another, Alan finally jockeyed for a higher position and grabbed both ends of Max’s loosened tie. Quickly, Alan snatched opposite ends in his hands and pulled upward.

Maxwell’s eyes protruded and his face flushed red. He thrashed about on the floor until his hands came upon a broken shard of his cell phone. Without hesitation, Max grabbed the broken shard and violently thrust the object into Alan’s forehead. Alan released his grip long enough for Maxwell to reach up to his desk and press a button.

Still lying on his back, Max reared his legs and then kicked both his heels into Alan’s back. All wind escaped from Alan’s lungs and he lay struggling to breathe on the floor. Maxwell pulled himself up to his feet, snatched his suit jacket off and pulled the loose tie from his neck. Stepping over Alan as he lay prone, gasping for air, Maxwell looped the tie around his friend’s neck, and then yanked back.

There was no chance for air to come this time. The security guard came rushing into the office within seconds. Maxwell stood up and loosened his grip. He walked away and allowed room for the security guard to grab Alan.

“Pick that motherfucker up and get him the fuck out of my house,” Maxwell ordered. The 300-pound security guard snatched Alan up by his belt line and threw him over his shoulder.

Maxwell led the way to the front door with his security guard carrying Alan in tow. Alan moaned and started to take in deep breaths. He tried to wriggle loose from the man, but the guard had a good grip on him.

“Hold on, man. You gotta go, the boss says so!” the security guard stated.

“Wait, is he breathing now?” Maxwell paused at the marble fountain in the entryway of the mansion.

“Yeah, boss.”

“Good set him down, but hold his arms,” Maxwell ordered his guard.

Blood poured from Alan’s forehead and spilled over his face. Maxwell reached to his friend and pulled the phone fragment loose from Alan’s forehead. The eccentric billionaire held a finger up, telling his guard to stay as he wandered off.

Maxwell sprinted back with two items in his hands. In the process, he stripped off his suit and wore only his dress slacks. His tattooed body glistened with sweat and veins bulged under his skin. Alan wanted Max’s attention, but unfortunately, he got the wrong end of the eccentric billionaire’s consideration.

Maxwell’s mouth was firmly squeezed shut with his lips pursed in anger. He slipped one item into his pocket and the other was a white dish towel. Bending down, he dipped the towel delicately into the trickling water of the large marble fountain. Looking back to his captive friend, Maxwell wagged his finger at him.

“You! You fucked up. Whatever your issue is, I may have an inkling of an idea of what you are all worked up over. And, I’m going to tell you, I think you’ll find it best to leave. Let sleeping dogs lie.”

Alan struggled, but the security guard tightened his grip on his pinned. Max came face to face with Alan and gently wiped the blood away from Alan’s face.

“Well, you have my attention now,” Max surveyed the damage on Alan’s forehead as he spoke. “This is going to hurt so hold still.”

The security guard pulled Alan closer as Maxwell pulled another fragment from Alan’s wound. He shouted in pain as Max pulled it out. A small stream of blood began to spill from the wound.

“See! All you had to do was wait and ask,” Max calmly explained. The personality that the eccentric billionaire exhibited was a polar opposite from what Alan saw only moments ago. “So, were you serious about having to wait for me for the last five years?”

The security guard’s forearm clutched around Alan’s throat and he gasped for air. Blood was dripping from his chin and onto the large man’s arm. Alan stared back at Maxwell. The only thing that could come to mind, he knew would make matters worse.

“Look, I can make your life great. I’ve shown it time and again. If it weren't for me, you never would have made billions, let alone millions. You were nothing till I came along. You may as well have been giving hand jobs on the corner to put food on your table if it weren’t for me.” Max handed the cloth to the guard. “Here, hold this towel on that mess.”

The security guard freed his arm from Alan’s throat and firmly placed the towel over Alan’s injury. The heavier man pulled back on Alan’s head to keep him in place. Looking down, Alan saw Maxwell pull the other item from his pocket.

“Now, you know what,” Max slowly paced away from Alan as he spoke. “I’m a giving guy. I gave you my love and attention, my partnership, and my admiration. Hell, some of those deals you fucked up, I took care of them for you. So, technically, I was your client sometimes. Those people were merely pawns for me to acquire more assets and cash flow.”

As Maxwell circled the fountain, he approached his secured friend again. Coming within inches of his face, Max spoke quietly to him.

“Here I help you and you bite my fucking hand,” Maxwell sneered. “Look at the thanks I get! Huh! So, yeah, I hurt you. Then I cleaned your wound, like I normally do.”

Maxwell pressed his tongue against the inside of his lower lip. The crazed billionaire rustled his hair and then raised the object he had in his hand so that Alan could see what it was. In his hand was a cylindrical crystal salt shaker.

“No! No! Max, no, don’t do it, goddamn it!” Alan cried out.

“Get rid of that towel,” he ordered the guard. Max removed the salt shaker lid as the security guard threw the towel off to the side. Alan tried to struggle and began kicking at Maxwell. “Hold his legs down, dumbass!”

The security guard kicked the back of Alan’s knees so that he knelt to the ground. Pain radiated from Alan’s right leg. The security guard tightened his forearm back over Alan’s windpipe.

“And, so Alan, ‘the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away,’” Maxwell shrugged as he emptied salt onto Alan’s wound.

The salt poured into the open cut and sent instantaneous pain throughout his head. Alan screamed and grimaced as some of the salt poured into his eyes. He writhed in pain and Maxwell cackled at his agony.

“Clean that shit off him!” he yelled at the guard.

The security guard stared blankly back at him.

“In the fucking fountain, idiot!” Maxwell pointed down to the fountain. “Hold him there a minute. I’ll tell you when he’s ready to come up.”

Alan sucked in a breath before the guard forced his head into the cold fountain water. The refreshing chill cooled Alan’s wound, but he found his wind escape him quickly. Desperately, he struggled in the guard’s arms.

“Up!” Maxwell yelled. Kneeling down to eye level with Alan, Maxwell again brought the salt shaker to dangle above his wound. “See how that works. I’ve done that again and again, year after year. You fuck up, and I make it right.

“And, now, it’s time to rinse and repeat.” Maxwell motioned for the security guard to dunk Alan in the fountain again.

In a burst of energy, Alan pulled his pinned slick-wet arm free from the guard. Quickly, Alan pushed the security guard’s arm up so that he could bite down.

With all the pain surging through him, Alan had no issue in biting down as hard as he could. Flesh crunched between his teeth and the taste of copper spilled onto his tongue.

“Ahhhh!” the security guard bellowed as he freed his grip from Alan.

Alan slapped the salt shaker out of Maxwell’s hand and the remainder of the salt spilled out and into Maxwell and the guard’s face. The 300-pound behemoth fell to the ground and convulsed about screaming while holding his face.

Maxwell staggered back, howling as he batted at his eyes, trying to clear the salt away. Alan tackled his former friend into the fountain. As Max splashed into the water, his legs buckled under him. His head crashed into the marble walls of the inside of the fountain and immediately lost consciousness.

Alan scrambled to his feet and turned to see the guard gathering his senses. Turning back to his former ally, Alan grabbed a handful of Maxwell’s hair. Filled with panic and anger, Alan lifted Max by his hair and flipped his body to face the marble corner of the fountain wall. He reared his leg up behind Max and looked to the guard.

“Don’t fucking move!” Alan ordered. “I will stomp his head all over the place!”

The security guard held his hands up and inched back. Alan tightly grasped Max’s hair in one hand, ready to pounce on the back of his former friend's head. Given the slightest move, Alan had no issue in squashing the security guard’s boss into the cold, wet marble fountain.

“Wake up!” Alan slapped Max in the face multiple times before he awoke. “Now, it’s my time, motherfucker!”

“Wha-what…Alan, Alan?” Maxwell desperately pleaded. “Don’t do it, man. Don’t do something you’re going to regret!”

“Then cut the shit and answer my questions!”

“Okay, okay, just let me go, I swear!” Max begged. “Please!”

Alan cautiously loosened his grip and Max gingerly sat up onto the fountain edge.

Looking down to stave off the growing pain in the side of his head, Maxwell gradually gained his bearings.

“Get the fuck out, Trent,” Maxwell softly told the guard. “Leave, you sack of shit.”

The security guard, holding his wounded arm, ran out of the entryway and down the hall.