Kings of Decay (The Winston Brothers Duet #1)

31. Ainsley

Chapter thirty-one

Ainsley

W illow was in my dreams every night.

I groaned, brushing my hair from my eyes and turning over to look at the ceiling. It was noon, but my bedroom was still dark, thanks to the black-out curtains.

I rolled over again, fighting to shake free from the last remnants of sleep. I was only half successful. I was still caught in a dreamlike haze as I blindly found my way to the ensuite bathroom.

The bathroom mirror revealed someone almost unrecognizable. My curly hair frizzed out everywhere, and dark circles were underneath my eyes. Had I really been surviving on only four hours of sleep a night?

I groaned, throwing on a hoodie and sweatpants before heading downstairs.

My father was sitting in the breakfast nook near the tall windows that overlooked our property. The sun was high over the lake, making the snow glitter. The light was blinding.

I grunted and closed the blinds.

My father looked up from his tablet. "Look who's alive," he said, sipping white wine with his lunch. He'd probably been up since the crack of dawn.

My father always preferred mornings over any other time of the day. But I couldn't say the same for myself.

"Yeah, I was up doing research until sunrise," I said.

I opened the fridge, immediately hating the stark contrast of light and dark. I couldn't shake the dream I had of Willow. The one where I was drowning in her. I found myself staring but not seeing anything, a million thoughts running through my head of her perfect, supple body writhing under mine.

I shook my head and grabbed some orange juice.

"How's the employee chatter at the mine?" Father asked.

I sucked in a breath. "Not good." I took a long swig directly from the bottle. "Lots of dangerous words being flung around on Facebook."

My father set down his tablet, still open to the digital version of the Wall Street Journal. "I see. Unions?"

"Trying," I said, taking another long gulp of juice.

"We need to make an example of them," Father said, taking off his glasses. "You know we're the only thing between this town and complete poverty."

I let out a sigh, rubbing my temples and pushing my fingers through my unruly hair.

"The shareholders will not stand for raising wages. We have no choice. We have to crush this spark before it turns into an inferno. You know our town is hanging on by a thread."

Father finished his wine and stood.He was a beefy man with grey hair and a thick mustache. He looked nothing like me, but why would he? He wasn't my biological father. He'd married my mother after his wife died. Pearce and I grew up like blood brothers. I never had any reason to think I was less loved than his biological son.

Sometimes, I wondered what life would have been like if I hadn't been raised by one of the most powerful men in Alaska. Sometimes, I wished my mother hadn't died so soon after the marriage, leaving the ruthless man to raise us alone.

But there was no use in thinking of what could have been. I needed to focus on keeping Grayling Pass in order. The heavy winter snow was coming. We needed to crush this before the storms set in.

***

After that conversation, I went straight to the mine to do some digging. No pun intended.

The place was busy as usual, with all three shifts going around the clock to get as much zinc as possible. They moved as if it would never run out. One day, it would. But not today.

There was a new truck that I'd never seen before. It was red and shiny, not the sort of truck the miners used.

"What the hell?" I muttered to myself.

It was Percy Tate, the guy who had the balls to run for mayor of Grayling Pass.

He owned the shiny new truck and was dressed like a union hero, with a red flannel shirt over a black undershirt, jeans, and thick leather work boots. He had slicked-back blond hair. Tate looked like a rich guy cosplaying as a blue-collar worker.

I saw him talking animatedly to a group of miners, who hung onto his every word. Their faces were rough and tired, worn out by the harsh winter and the tough conditions they faced every single day.

"The big dogs say, 'We can't pay you more than the minimum wage, boys. It would kill the company!'" Tate shouted with an animated laugh. "But don't worry, I've got a plan. You just need to vote for me!"

I stayed out of sight, the Jeep idling at the back of the gravel parking lot.

Percy Tate. The thorn in my father's side. Pearcy had offered to kill him, but there were too many eyes on him right now. It'd be too obvious. That's why we needed Woods to win the old-fashioned way.

Or rig the election.

But where was the fun in that?

I gritted my teeth, watching as Tate continued to rally the miners. These were hard-working men, but as the years went on, they became more and more worn down. The harsh winters didn’t help, nor did the unsafe mining conditions.

But I knew my father meant well. We couldn’t just start paying everyone higher wages; we’d risk bankrupting the company and losing it all in the end. Shitty wages was better than no wages.

It was obvious to even me that the miners needed better wages and better conditions, but giving them that would mean we'd go under. We were barely staying afloat as it was. The shareholders wouldn't stand for it.

We had to pick our battles carefully.

Then, someone stepped up to Tate and shook his hand. He was a tall white guy dressed in overalls. Willow's father. The newest guy in town. John Moore.

"Percy Tate sees your plight and supports the union drive," John said. "If we want change, we need to vote out Woods."

"Yeah, fuck him!" Someone shouted.

"Winston's puppet!" Someone else added.

My hands tightened around the steering wheel. Of course, it had to be Willow's father speaking up again. Why did it have to be him? Why did everything have to be so fucking complicated all the time?

I texted my brother, updating him on the situation.

John was causing trouble. My father would want John dead, and for the first time, I knew I would be hesitant to follow orders.

Killing Willow's father would not be helpful in our mission of getting into her pants.

Pearce texted me back.

We can't take him out yet.

I know , I replied.

My phone buzzed immediately.

We need him out of town and smother this before it gets out of control.