Perfection of Suffering (The Shadows of Wildberry Lane Book 1)

by M. Sinclair

  I ate less in private, hoping that it would reduce the places they had to ‘circle.’ So that I didn’t have any obvious flaws they could point out. By the end of April, I had found myself sobbing in the girls’ bathroom after throwing up a smoothie I’d forced down at lunch.

  That was when Sterling had found me.

  There had been a second where I’d considered telling them who I thought it was. I’d hesitated not only because I was unsure at first, but also because I didn’t want my boys to be on the receiving end of their shit if they confronted them. I still wasn’t positive on who it was to this day.

  Plus, at the time, we’d been so close to graduation, I had figured it would stop. I prayed it would. It didn’t though. No, this summer, despite shutting down almost all of my private social media accounts, fake profiles had started to send messages to my photography account while also commenting cruel things underneath each picture I loved. I had no idea how they figured out it was mine since I didn’t use my real name.

  They had taken that away from me as well, as I stopped posting anything on the profile, not wanting their attention. Just wanting them to leave me alone. My parents stayed off social media for the most part, so they hadn’t even realized I’d deleted my accounts until I had mentioned it in passing.

  Although, honestly, they hadn’t liked the fact that I’d been on there in the first place. All of our families liked to stay out of the spotlight, and the few times that we had made news, my parents purposefully kept my name out of the papers. It still didn’t stop people from finding me on social media and requesting to follow me, but I rarely accepted. Which is why it was so frustrating that these fake accounts had seemed to find a way around that and still send me messages.

  I just wanted, more than anything, to be left the fuck alone.

  Now I was trying to keep control of a situation that was spiraling without any end in sight. I had lost weight, and I was still losing weight. Slower than before, but with it, my confidence was shrinking into a diminished pool. Every message I received seemed to only push me further down into this hole of numbness I was trying to ignore. But what could I do about it?

  I kept smiling for those around me.

  I tried to stay positive.

  Sure, I was suffering, but I was going to do it in silence. I had to handle this myself. I was embarrassed and ashamed that I had let it get this far, and I would be damned if I put my family and guys through this crap just because I couldn’t seem to shake a bully. My mom had already noticed my weight loss, and I’d blamed it on being so active this summer, considering I’d upped my tennis lessons to three times a week. I had no idea if she believed me, but since we always told one another everything, I think she trusted me to tell her if something was wrong.

  I’d broken that trust, and not just with her.

  I hadn’t told my guys either. Besides not wanting to burden them with my problems, I didn’t want them to think that I was incapable of handling stuff like this. I didn’t want them to view me as someone they had to be constantly looking after or protecting. A burden. A problem. That was my nightmare.

  Why was it so hard to keep it all together? So painful? I couldn’t do this forever. I just had to figure something out. Something before I was in so deep that there was no return. My heart hurt as I considered the moment when my boys had tried to talk to me about everything that was going on, right after they’d found me sobbing in the bathroom last spring. The raw fear I’d seen on their faces. The guilt that had surged over me because of that.

  “Princess?” King’s voice was soft and pleading as my eyes slowly opened from where I was curled up on my bedroom couch. My parents were both out, and Sterling sat next to me, my feet on his lap as his large paint-stained fingers rubbed my ankle softly, his eyes moving between me and the show that we had on. I couldn’t tell you what we were watching, honestly.

  “Hey.” My voice was rough from sobbing, and my eyes were gritty and sore.

  King kissed the top of my head, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders as I felt someone sit down next to me, a familiar scent wrapping me up between the twins. I moved my gaze over towards Lincoln, staring blankly at the way his massive hands seemed to completely encompass mine in heat. There was something reassuring about that. Something that made me feel safe.

  “Dahlia, are you feeling okay? St-Sterling said you haven’t had anything to eat since coming home?” Lincoln’s voice caught on his stutter, making my throat feel thick with emotion.

  Growing up, he’d always had a stutter, especially when it came to the letters ‘t’ and ‘f.’ I could always tell when he was nervous or anxious, because his stutter would resurface, and knowing that it was because of me left me with a wave of guilt I could have never expected.

  Lincoln had always hated his stutter, but I loved it. Then again, I loved everything about him.

  The concept of food made me feel so fucking awful, though. Bile rose in my throat as I tried to not overthink it.

  I nodded. “I’m okay, I promise.”

  I wasn’t.

  Ignoring the look they exchanged, King’s fingers stroking through my hair, I jumped slightly as my bedroom door slammed open, flinching again as Yates stormed in like an absolute madman.

  “What the fuck, bunny? What the hell is going on? How long have you been—”

  “Calm down,” King snapped, his voice hard as Yates’s jaw clenched before he looked at me with a silver gaze filled with anger and fear.

  “Do not yell at her, Yates,” Lincoln voiced immediately, his voice absent of any previous softness.

  Yates crouched in front of me, ignoring them both as he grasped my jaw and looked over my expression. “What is going on, bunny?”

  “Nothing.” I swallowed hard. “I promise it’s nothing. It’s over now. It’s all over.”

  It hadn’t been. It hadn’t been at all.

  That had been the last time I’d openly talked about it with them, hating myself for how upset I’d made them. I still felt that guilt on my shoulders, especially when they asked me questions about it, that same concern flashing in their gazes. So I avoided it. I promised myself it would never happen again. I would never do that to them again.

  “Get it together,” I breathed out and then turned towards the door, slipping on my sandals. Bounding down the stairs, eager to see the guys again before dinner, hoping they were still out there, I couldn’t help but smile as my dad looked up at me from the foyer. His briefcase was on the floor, and he looked somewhat relaxed despite having clearly worked all day.

  “Hey, pumpkin.” He hugged me tightly as I wrapped an arm around his waist, happy to see him.

  “Good day at work?” I asked curiously. I was in part distracted, though, because the front door was open, and I could hear familiar voices outside. My boys.

  “Very.” He nodded, his eyes jumping with something that truly looked thrilled. “You excited for this weekend? Also, where is your mom?”

  “Golf and mimosas? Of course I’m excited,” I laughed.

  My mother was there then, wrapping her arms around both of us as I smiled, feeling a strong sense of contentment. I was back to being ten for just a moment, where everything was as simple as trying to decide which movie we were going to watch after dinner together. Like I said, I could never take any of this for granted.

  “The boys are still outside,” my mom pointed out as I walked towards the door. “Why don’t you meet us at Yates’s house? I want to show your dad something.”

  … and you better believe I was out the door.

  Chapter Six

  Dahlia Aldridge

  I absolutely loved my parents, really. But I had no need to hear them dote on one another, because they could get ridiculously lovey-dovey, and sometimes I didn’t think they even realized they were doing it. It was amazing to see how in love they still were, nearly obsessed with one another, but I was blessed to have had only one awkward run-in throughout my entire childhood.

  I mean
, to be fair, they had thought I was over at King’s house for Valentine’s Day with the other boys. When I had run home to grab my tablet to show Yates something and prove a point, I’d made it into the foyer before I heard some suspicious noises from the living room. I turned very quickly and got the heck back out of there. See? Not even that terrible! I loved seeing my parents so in love, but you better believe that if they asked me to leave the house, I would.

  Walking back through the front door, I made sure to shut it softly before turning to see that my mom was right—the boys were still right where I’d left them. Dermot’s gaze found mine almost immediately from where he was shaking his head, seemingly frustrated with a tense conversation going on between Yates, King, and the twins. I didn’t pay them any mind, knowing they would figure it out. I went to go stand with Dermot instead, deciding this was as good a moment as any to get to know my new neighbor better.

  “Hey, you.” I chimed.

  Almost immediately, the man dropped his cigarette before using his heavy boot to stomp out the butt. It was an interesting gesture—sort of sweet, actually—but not necessary since I’d been around Stratton while he smoked. Although… you know, he usually put out his cigarette around me as well.

  Interesting.

  “Another dress,” he observed, offering a small lip tilt while looking over my outfit. Honestly, it was a good look on him.

  I looked down at my outfit, suddenly feeling a pang of anxiety. “Yes… does it not look okay?”

  Wonderful. I absolutely loved how obvious I could be. But it was an honest question. I wasn’t positive how to take that comment. Like ‘oh, another dress, that looks nice on you’ or ‘oh, another dress, maybe you should choose something more flattering next time.’

  It could be neither. It could be just an observation. Or it could be something. Swallowing nervously, I looked back up at him, categorizing his surprised expression.

  “You look like fucking candy, Dahlia.”

  Oh. That was good, right?

  Feeling a bit emboldened by his compliment, I stepped closer, tucking my hair behind my ear despite it already being held in place. It was a nervous gesture of mine. My nervousness didn’t last, though, because suddenly I was caught off guard by the setting sun hitting Dermot’s handsome face, streaks of color jumping into his gaze that I hadn’t noticed before.

  Both King and Dermot had green eyes that appeared to be the same shade, but I knew King’s eyes and the starburst of mint that surrounded each pupil, darkening to a spring green on the edges. Dermot’s eyes, on the other hand, were a rich green that were streaked randomly with emerald. It was a bit hypnotizing, and that was a very, very bad thing.

  “Well, thank you,” I managed to get out, my cheeks flaming. “I am going to take that as a compliment.”

  I shouldn’t have, though. I really did not need to be attracted to any other men in my life. To be fair, Dermot Ross had a very appealing edge to him that I found myself itching to explore. It was almost instinctual, the urge to delve further into his personality and figure him out.

  He came off as a bit gruff and quiet, but I had a feeling that he was a total teddy bear. I could almost guarantee that having his arms around me would feel even better… and I needed to stop. My eyes moved across his busted knuckles as my lips tilted up. Alright, so a teddy bear that could beat the mess out of people. Instead of scaring me, the concept had my pulse speeding up as desire seeped over my skin.

  That was unhealthy. What was wrong with me?

  “It was meant to be one.” Dermot’s eyes darkened as he ran his fingers through his messy hair, his large, muscular arm flexing slightly and drawing my attention. Was that his nervous habit as well? I blinked, realizing his lips were moving, but his general sexiness was distracting me.

  His rough, accented voice brought me back to the present as I caught up to what he was saying. “I think I met your father just now.”

  “Tall guy?” I asked, flashing a smile. “Yeah, that’s him. He always works late. He could easily be home by noon, which my mother would love, but he always says ‘if they stay, I stay.’”

  “Seems like a good guy.” Dermot cleared his throat, a flash of nervousness crossing his expression that I didn’t fully understand. “So, do you have dinner at his house often?”

  “Yates?” I tilted my head, trying to not smile at his seemingly nervous questioning. He had no reason to be anxious, but it was a bit flattering to know I affected him. “Sometimes. I mean, we are all super close, despite Yates being a complete ass most of the time.”

  Dermot barked out a laugh at my words as Yates snapped his head around, he and the three other boys finally clocking in on the fact that I was outside with them.

  “I resent that, bunny,” Yates retorted immediately, his silver eyes flicking over my dress before a smile filled his face. At what, I had absolutely no idea. Nor did I plan to ask.

  “You can resent it all you want,” I pointed out in amusement, “doesn’t make it any less true, now does it?”

  Yates looked skyward, mumbling something before stepping forward and ushering me towards his house. “Come on, let’s go. My mom’s excited you are coming over. Only god knows why…”

  I narrowed my eyes, stepping out of his reach before retorting, “Because I’m amazing, that’s why. Not everyone has good taste, Yates, you being one of those unfortunate souls.”

  King chuckled, heat coloring my face as I looked over at him. “Princess, why don’t you skip dinner and come hang out with us instead.”

  “No,” Yates practically growled stubbornly.

  Lincoln’s eyes jumped with mirth. “You don’t really want to hang out with him anyway.”

  Undetermined, unfortunately.

  “The moment I cancel plans with any of your parents is the moment something is seriously wrong,” I chided, walking backwards towards Yates’s estate as the man followed slowly, his eyes tracking my steps as if he was worried I’d fall.

  “Come over after?” King asked, his eyes shading with something serious all of a sudden. “We are hanging out at Dermot’s from now on, and I want you to see the place again. I have a decorator coming soon, and of course I want your opinion on everything before we start remodeling.”

  Oh, I loved interior design way too much. That was a dangerous game, asking my opinion. A small affectionate smile slipped onto my lips at his ‘of course,’ the phrase alone nearly convincing me to help him out.

  “Shouldn’t Dermot pick?” I arched a brow curiously as King looked at his cousin, amusement on his face at a joke I didn’t understand.

  Dermot looked over my expression before seeming to come to a decision. “Not really my thing. I would rather have your opinion.”

  Yates muttered something unintelligible before tugging my hand gently, causing me to let out a small almost growl. “Yates, I know you did not just pull me towards your house. You could have just asked—”

  “Why are you always so difficult?” he muttered, my heart rate jumping a bit at our back and forth. Honestly, the man brought out a different side of me.

  “I’m difficult?” I pressed a finger to his firm, muscular chest, his tie absent from his neck so that he could unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt, showing off his golden skin. I wasn’t going to focus on that, though.

  “You, Yates, have to be one of the most difficult men I know! Literally!”

  “Last time I checked, you don’t spend time with other men besides us.” Yates stepped up into my space as I tilted my chin up, refusing to let him use his height and build to crowd me. He wasn’t wrong, though.

  “You don’t know who I spend time with,” I teased, my smile growing as his eyes narrowed, turning into a deep charcoal as any humor disappeared.

  Oh, he did not like that idea at all.

  Maybe I would tell him I had another date coming up… I mean, I knew that was a surefire way to mess with him. We wouldn’t want this to turn into an unfair advantage or anything, and unfortunate
ly, this man seemed to have me pinned down pretty damn well. Figuratively, not literally, unfortunately… not unfortunately. I’d never want to be pinned down by Yates. Promise.

  “Do they argue like this a lot?” Dermot asked, causing both Yates and I to look towards the other four men that I’d briefly forgotten about amid our argument.

  Sterling sighed, though he had a smile on his face. “Every. Single. Day.”

  “We aren’t that bad,” I muttered and turned towards Yates’s house, striding towards our dinner plans.

  Almost immediately, the man was walking next to me, offering a speculative look while placing a hand on my lower back. The heat of his palm warmed my skin and caused me to shiver, but I tried to stuff that feeling down. I would not be turned on while sitting at a peaceful and relaxing dinner with our parents. I would not let him affect me more than he already did.

  While all of the houses on Wildberry Lane were similar in style, they each had a unique flair to them that captured their family’s personality. Yates’s house was unsurprisingly massive and made of marble, surrounded by stunning landscaping and a fountain in the center of the circular driveway. Honestly, it was not only gorgeous, but somewhat ‘in your face,’ which, if we were being honest, fit the man perfectly. I made my way up the large marble steps towards a set of white double doors that opened up to reveal Yates’s mother.

  Almost instantly, I was surrounded by Chanel No. 5 perfume as Yates’s mom squeezed me in a death grip hug, and I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as I hugged her back. This. This was why I loved this community. The families of Wildberry had become an extension of my own. Believe me, this was a dream for anyone, especially a girl who was seemingly abandoned by the people who brought her into this world.

  “Dahlia, honey, I am so happy to see you!” She pulled back, her familiar silver eyes a perfect match to her son’s in their dime-colored metallic shade.