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Arthur slammed his fist down on his large cherry-wood desk.
“Shut that boy up!”
Between the clunk of the kid’s cowboy boots on the hardwood floor as he ran up and down the long hallway, and the pop...pop...pop of his toy cap gun Arthur had had enough.
“Blake, honey. Come here.”
“Okay, mama.”
The boy clunked back down to the opposite end of the hall.
He heard the door between the kitchen and outside shut. Where was she going? Probably to her parents’ house. He leaped from his chair to catch her. After the morning they’d had, the last thing he needed was her to go whining to her parents, or that imbecile brother of hers about their life. If she’d just stop provoking him, he wouldn’t have to discipline her. It was all her fault. This is how she repaid him after all he’d done to secure her as his wife, rather than his selfish, distant cousins.
The memory of his life, Gwendoline’s, too, before he’d successfully changed history resurfaced. She had appeared to be a loving spouse to Jack. Yet, when it came to him, she couldn’t act more the opposite, challenging him every step of the way. And the boy, he had that damn Cornelis on a pedestal, and when it came to him, the boy shut down and would hardly look at him. Maybe he shouldn’t have stolen so many pieces of his cousin’s life. Should have only stuck to the decorated military history and prominent social status. Those were the two things he was really after in the beginning. He loved the attention those statuses brought. Everyone knowing his name and treating him like a war hero.
He shook his head. He couldn’t worry about that at this moment. Right now, he needed to re-focus on training her to be the dutiful wife he wanted.
He ran down the hall and out the door right as she began to back out of the driveway. Slamming the palm of his hand on the trunk caused her to brake hard. The vehicle jerked. She snapped her head around and watched him as he walked to the driver’s side window.
“Get out of the car,” he demanded.
The defiant woman set her chin. “No.”
He reached through the open window, wrapped his hand around the back and side of her neck opposite him, and pulled her toward him.
Beyond his spouse, he noticed their son’s wide-eyed stare.
The boy’s lip started to quiver. “Mama?” he muttered before a full-blown wail started.
“It’s okay, honey. Everything is fine,” Gwendoline assured the boy without turning to look at him.
She couldn’t have if she wanted to because his grip held firm. He needed her to keep her focus on him so she’d understand what would happen to her if she blabbed about their life to anyone.
The defiance emitting her gaze set him on edge. Her lack of tears and set jaw was new and a clear indicator her docility was about to change, and he couldn’t have that.
Still holding her firm, he edged sideways a bit to get a better look at the crying, weak, boy. The lad needed to toughen up.
“Blake, like your mama said. Everything is okay. Boys don’t cry. Do you understand me?”
The child nodded, sniffled, and wiped at the tears on his cheeks.
“What goes on in this house—our family—is nobody’s business. A special secret for just me, you, and your mama. Understand?”
The boy nodded again as he cowered, practically melted into the seat.
Arthur shifted his thumb to the front of his wife’s throat and squeezed a bit more. His hand didn’t quite stretch all the way around her neck but it was enough to get his point across.
“Remember, son, telling other people our family secrets are a cause for punishment. Got it?”
He felt Gwendoline’s hard swallow against the pad of his thumb. She got it.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Listen,” his spouse whispered. “I haven’t visited her in a week. If I don’t show up soon, she’ll think something is wrong. You don’t want her coming here, do you?”
A visit from her meddling mother was the last thing he needed. Arthur forced a smile and fixed his gaze on Blake. “Have a nice time at Grandma and Grandpa’s.”
He returned his focus to his spouse. “Don’t be too long.”
He loosened his grip and straightened his spine as she backed out of the driveway. He’d deal with her again when she returned home.
––––––––
A short time later, his wife and son returned. Quiet as church mice.
When the door to his office creaked open, he’d expected to see his wife, instead, it was her twin. His brother-in-law’s facial features were tense. His stance was rigid.
Arthur stood in response as he blew out a breath. He didn’t have time for his wife’s imbecile brother.
“We need to have a chat,” Gary said flatly.
He should have killed this idiot when he had the chance.
“What’s on your mind, Gary?”
Arthur nearly laughed at his question. The war had screwed the guy up pretty good, physically and mentally. He’d been happy to learn his brother-in-law couldn’t remember anything about the incident that bought him his ticket out of Nam. Traumatic amnesia. His secret was safe where Gary was concerned. Even if the man did eventually piece together the time travel episode, nobody would believe him, especially when you add in his mental struggles caused by the war. The man couldn’t hold a coherent thought to save his life. To the layman, he appeared crazy.
“I know what you did,” Gary said.
Anger cracked through him like a whip. Had his spouse told him or had his son?
“Really. And what’s that?” Arthur asked just to make sure he was on the right track hoping he was wrong about his family blabbing their business. If this was the case, he’d surely have a chat with his lovely wife and boy.
“I died in Vietnam. I know you know that.”
Shock jolted him back a step. This really wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. Arthur shifted from one foot to the other then stopped himself. He needed to get ahead of this—play this cool. The man was weak, it shouldn’t be difficult to spin this around. Think!
“Ah, you’re standing right here in front of me alive and well.”
Gary took a couple of steps toward him, within arm’s reach. “You had a little something to do with that didn’t you?”
Heat radiated Arthur’s body, and he willed himself to stay calm, but his brother-in-law’s knowing glare made it difficult. The only way out of this conversation at present was to go for the throat. Hit Gary where he was the weakest. His mind—soul. “Everyone’s right. You are crazy. You need help.”
The man’s whole body tensed, and his hands fisted at his sides. With another simple little nudge, he could probably push his dear wife’s brother over the edge.
“It’s okay, buddy, not everyone handles the stress of war as well as others. Most soldiers come back changed. Some stronger, some weaker. We’ll get you the help you need.”
His brother-in-law leaned in, and his intense stare bore into him. “So true. I think war steals a man’s soul, and you never really get it back.” Gary stepped closer.
They were nose to nose, but Arthur refused to pull away—refused to be intimidated.
“But, for those who went in without a soul to begin with, there’s no worries, no remorse. Right, buddy?” Gary added in a controlled tone.
Oddly, the plan to shake the man wasn’t working at all. Certainly not what he’d expected.
His brother-in-law cocked his head to the side, took a couple of steps back, then sat in one of the high-back leather chairs. He crossed his legs and leaned back comfortably as his lips drew into a slight smile.
He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the end table. “Have a seat, my friend. You’re going to need it.”
Adrenaline rushed Arthur’s veins. His wife’s idiot twin had gained control of himself, and the man’s comfort level let him know there wasn’t much he’d be able to do about it to manipulate him. He’d have to play this out all the while hoping for an opportunity to strike.
Arthur sat and crossed his legs, matching his brother-in-law’s body language, setting himself up to regain the upper hand, or at least get back on the same level. This wasn’t a position he was used to being in and he didn’t like it.
“The way I see it. I’ve got nothing to lose.” Gary shifted his gaze to the shadow box of medals. “But you, you have everything to lose.”
Arthur’s heart thudded, but he refused to let the man know the effect his comments had on him. He leaned back in an effort to relax his stiff spine.
“Really?”
“How do you think my sister is going to feel knowing the truth. The truth that you tried to kill Jack, her real husband? The truth that those medals on the wall are his, not yours. The truth that Blake is not your son but his. The truth that the life she’s living with you is not her real destiny.”
Arthur gripped the arms of the chair to keep from exposing his shaky fingers. Then, he forced a chuckle. “Right. Like she’s going to believe all that. You’ve gone mad.”
The calm man uncrossed his legs, planted his elbows on his thighs, and then clamped tighter onto his gaze. “There’s a bond between twins. I know most people don’t believe that, but there is. We can darn near see into each other’s souls. Sometimes, even read each other’s minds. She’ll believe me when I tell her.”
Arthur’s heart rate kicked up a notch. He drew in a slow breath in an effort to calm it before he spoke. “Gary, Gary, Gary.” He gave a shake of his head. “You poor thing. This little fantasy world you’re creating is only going to substantiate to everyone you need help. This conversation is over, and you need to leave. If you know what’s good for you, Gwendoline, and Blake, you’ll leave now and give up on this charade.”
“I’m not your only worry, you know. Jack knows. His Protector knows.”
Protector! At the sound of that word, he knew his brother-in-law knew more than he should. He was not a time traveler and should have no knowledge of Preservers, Protectors, and Modifiers. Jack went too far. And that bitch, Gabriela went too far. Not playing by the rules. Well, he could play that game, too.
Gary arched a brow. “Strike a nerve there, did I?”
“You’re playing with fire.”
His brother-in-law chuckled and raked his gaze over his own body. “Don’t I know it, and haven’t I already.”
Fuck. The man knew the truth. In his real destiny, he’d perished in a burning heap in the Vietnam jungle. Still, he had the hurdle of convincing his sister of the truth, which would be difficult at best because of the absurdness of it. Still, Arthur knew he needed to find a way to prevent his brother-in-law from telling her—convincing her—it was true.
He needed to play this cool until he figured out his next step. He rose and gestured to the doorway. “I think we’re done here.”
Gary stood, turned, and took a few steps toward the door before glancing over his shoulder. “We’re not done—we’re just getting started. And, one more thing, my sister spends a lot of time at Jack’s store. Don’t you think that’s odd?”
The smug smile on his brother-in-law’s face went beyond irritating. The anger sparking in every cell of his being had rendered him speechless as Gary walked out. The man would pay for that last comment. It wouldn’t have struck home so much if it hadn’t been true.
He needed a plan to contend with this threat.
Arthur reached for the whiskey on the bar in the corner of his office and poured himself two fingers' worth. If nothing else, he would make Gwendoline pay. He would make Jack pay. And that bitch, Gabriela, she would really pay. Those damn Protectors, always meddling—standing in the way.