by M. Sinclair
Yeah, I’d been surprised they’d told us that as well. Although, I had a feeling they were attempting to make sure we were truly invested in this as they pushed for more and more help. I didn’t really care all that much as long as they got the fucker out of here. It was that clean cut for me. That simple.
My biggest fear? That they would attempt to involve Dahlia.
We were trying to do right by her, not wanting to involve her unless we had to. Plausible deniability was important legally, but more than anything, I knew her knowing would directly threaten her. Knowledge was power in this world, and while I wanted to give Dahlia everything, every part of me, I wasn’t willing to put her safety at risk just to clear my guilt.
My brow dipped as I considered the other problem. The one that seemed far more important and yet was vastly more complicated. With all the power and influence we had, we couldn’t seem to get a hold on something that should have been impossibly simple.
Who the hell was bullying Dahlia?
There were ways of finding out immediately, but we were trying our best to respect her privacy. It was getting to the point, though, that I wasn’t sure we could keep waiting for her to give us an in. To give us permission. I didn’t want to break Dahlia’s trust, but I didn’t disagree with Yates—it was far too simple to assume that it had just ended. Shit like that didn’t happen in our world.
We’d gotten a hold of the number from before, but it had been from a burner phone, and between her deleting any evidence and trying to force us to ‘forget’ about it, we were left at somewhat of a dead end. Which wasn’t good, because not only was it clear to everyone that Dahlia was still not okay, but it was going to end in forcing our hand. I had far more hang-ups on her privacy than any of the others. I had been able to temper King from afar, but Yates and Lincoln fucking fed off his ideas, so I knew I was going to lose this battle eventually.
Yates’s plan was fucked up. I preferred King’s timeline of getting her to move in with us, but that required her to understand that we were in love with her. I ran a hand through my hair and looked over at Dermot, wondering just how he was going to play into all of this.
I had a good guess on what King thought, but I just wasn’t sure. I trusted Dermot, but I also knew how delicate this situation was, and I just hoped he understood this wasn’t some stupid fucking game. I had to trust that King knew his cousin well enough to think he wouldn’t risk all of this. I’d always liked the guy, but my opinion was still up in the air, mainly because I had no idea how Dahlia felt about him.
A knock had all of us looking towards the door. I stood and crossed the massive family room, hoping like hell that it was Dahlia. Throwing open the heavy front door, I scowled, realizing it was Yates. A pissed off Yates.
Wonderful.
“Dahlia went out somewhere, I have no idea where,” he bit out.
I blinked, processing his words. “What the fuck are you talking about, Yates?”
“I pissed her off at dinner, she left and locked me from the house, so after dinner I told her parents I needed to talk to her, and she wasn’t in her goddamn bedroom. She left her phone, so I have no fucking idea where she went off to,” he snarled. I knew he was pissed, and I also knew it wasn’t at Dahlia.
He was pissed at himself, and that made two of us.
King’s voice filled the space of the foyer. “What the hell is wrong with you? Did you bring it up to her? Of course you fucking did, I don’t even know why I bother—”
“I am not going to baby her,” Yates hissed, attempting to look indifferent and apathetic. I didn’t buy it. I also wasn’t interested in listening to the two of them fight tonight. They did it so fucking often, and sometimes it escalated to the point of them carrying injuries into the next day.
Mostly because of Yates. Not to say King didn’t have a temper, but Yates was triggered super easily. Running a hand over my face, I looked at Lincoln and Dermot.
“Let’s just go find her,” I offered and slipped on my shoes from where they laid near the door.
“Anyone have a goddamn idea of where she’d be?” Yates demanded.
“This is why I suggested installing a tracker on her car,” Lincoln noted, stepping outside onto the driveway. I noticed an odd look—guilt?—briefly cross Yates’s face at the concept, but before I could question it, he had sealed off his emotions again, looking pissed despite all of this being his fault.
“We can’t put a tracker on her, brother,” I mused. Honestly, I wasn’t positive if that was true or not. I mean, we literally could… but it felt wrong.
Although I did see its merit.
My gaze flashed up as I smiled. “It’s a full moon, she’s out by the river.”
“At night?!” Dermot asked, looking concerned. I almost smiled at that, because the guy was pretty awful at hiding how he felt about shit. Namely, his concern revolving around Dahlia, despite having just met her.
“This is your fault,” King growled at Yates as we walked towards his car. I would have preferred to take mine, but King was a bit of a control freak, so he liked to drive if we were going somewhere. His garage opened to reveal his BMW. It was his only car that fit more than two people, but it was actually my favorite of those that he owned. I had a bit of a thing for cars, but not for the reason you would think.
I liked the idea of designing cars, the artistic work involved in creating their streamlined shapes. I could easily see myself creating a car line. That shit would be fun as fuck.
“You guys sound bloody insane with this tracking bullshit, you know that, right?” Dermot asked my brother and I quietly. Yates and King were still arguing, so I left them to it.
Lincoln looked at him and then tilted his head thoughtfully. “I think that’s bullshit. I don’t think you think it’s insane at all, Dermot. You’re just surprised that we are verbally saying what we all would be thinking anyway.”
Kingston’s cousin shook his head. “I just don’t understand what this is. I mean, it’s clear that you are all in love with the same fucking woman. So how the fuck is that going to work?”
Was it that obvious? I smiled at that. Good.
“We are all going to be with her,” I concluded easily.
He stared at me for a few seconds before speaking. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly,” Lincoln clipped as we got into the back seat of King’s sedan.
Tapping my foot, I sat back, Dermot going silent and thoughtful about what we’d said, if I had to assume. I didn’t feel weird about how I felt about Dahlia or my acceptance of other men being in her life and loving her the way I did. Men that were essentially my brothers.
I meant that. Except for Lincoln and I, everyone else was an only child, so we’d grown up together as brothers in the same semi-isolated community. Without them, it would have been lonely, but as I got older, I knew I would have to do the same for our children. When you had money and power like we did, there wasn’t anyone that just wanted ‘friendship’ from you. So no, I didn’t feel bad in the least about the idea of sharing Dahlia, as long as she wanted us.
King blasted music as he drove out of the security gates, his driving faster and a bit more erratic than usual because of the panic he was no doubt feeling. His driving should have concerned me, but he’d never had an accident, and that was more than I could say for myself.
Only two minutes later, I rolled my eyes as police lights began to flash behind us. We were two blocks away from the turn off to the river bank. This was bullshit. Honestly, as Kingston pulled over, I considered getting out and walking over there but knew that this wouldn’t take more than a minute, if not less.
This wasn’t the first time we’d been pulled over.
Kingston rolled down the window and put his head back against the seat, his annoyance clear as Yates turned the music off. I could feel Dermot tense next to me, which made me smile a bit, and my brother actually laughed as the officer approached the car. We all saw his realization at who he was pulling over jus
t a bit too late, fear crossing his expression as a sick sense of amusement ran over my skin.
“Kingston,” the police officer bit out, trying to be polite, but it didn’t fix the strained nature of his smile. “Sorry, son, I didn’t realize it was you.”
Kingston’s face was cold as he offered him a disinterested look. “First, I’m not your son. Second, come Monday morning, Yates is going to be sending you all of our license plate numbers, and you’re going to do your fucking job this time and put them in the system. I don’t have time to deal with this bullshit again.”
“Every time we do, the end of the year donation to the department just gets smaller and smaller,” my brother added, his eyes jumping with amusement. I wish I could share in his delight, but instead I found myself feeling anxious. The more time we were here, the more time Dahlia was out by herself.
I knew what happened at night in this fucking town, and it wasn’t anything good.
“Understood,” the officer confirmed. “You’re good to go. Sorry again.”
Kingston pulled away, to his credit at a slightly slower pace, something that was normally reserved for when Dahlia was in the car with him. I kept an eye out as we pulled in near the levee, the road along it empty except for a familiar car. King parked when Lincoln tapped his shoulder, clearly seeing the figure standing near the water.
“I’ll get her. Yates, maybe you should go hide in the trunk,” I mused, hopping out of the car. He didn’t seem to find that funny.
As I made my way down the levee, I paused for a second to really appreciate just how goddamn beautiful our girl was, even now as she kneeled on the ground, bent over her camera as she tried to take a photo of the full moon lit up on the river’s dark surface. It was an image she’d been trying to capture for months now, and while she had several stunning versions, all of them were not ‘good enough’ in her opinion. I thought they were beautiful, but this is why I painted.
Easy to capture what you created.
“Sugar,” I drew out the nickname as the camera shuttered several times before she slowly lowered it, offering me a small unsurprised smile. Dahlia never seemed to be surprised when we showed up out of nowhere, making me wonder just how much she knew about our little obsession with her.
“Hey, you.” She stood up fully, looking down at her camera. Her shoulders slumped as she shook her head before putting the camera away in her case a few feet to her left. Clearly, she was done for the night. I almost recommended staying out here longer because I could tell she was dissatisfied, but she looked exhausted. Her green eyes were a darker shade, and her lids were lowered with sleepiness that I found oddly sexy. I was glad she wouldn’t have to drive back when she was this tired.
“How long have you been out here?” I asked quietly as I took her camera bag from her, running my fingers up her bare arms.
“A few hours,” she admitted while walking next to me up the incline. A few hours? I didn’t like that shit at all.
I could also see that something was very clearly bothering her right now, but I didn’t push it. If she was out here because of Yates, I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. Her keys jingled as she pulled them from her pocket. “I’ll meet you back—”
“No.” King stood up from where he had been leaning against the car, watching us approaching, and Yates climbed out of the car as the other two stayed in the back. “Yates offered to drive your car back, princess. You are coming with us. You don’t have your glasses with you as it is.” It was true, she didn’t. Dahlia didn’t need glasses most of the time, but she had a very small prescription and used them to drive at night.
Dahlia froze, seeing Yates, as I gently took the keys from her hand and tossed them his way. He offered her one more look before walking towards her car and hopping in, the lights flooding the area in front of us. Dahlia muttered something about ‘overreacting,’ but I had a feeling she wasn’t saying Yates was overreacting. No, I was positive my sugar somehow had worked this out in her head where she needed to apologize.
I didn’t like that shit at all. Yates had boundary issues.
That was the thing with Dahlia—she was sweet as apple pie and would rather take the blame for something than ever put it on anyone else. True, Yates’ point about her talking to us was valid, but there were better ways to communicate that. I wrapped an arm around her waist as she leaned into me comfortably.
The car ride back was quiet as she sat between Lincoln and I, Dermot having moved up front. Her eyes were closed until we got home, and she blinked up at me with bright green eyes, letting out a cute yawn before giving each of us a hug and making her way across the street towards her house.
Even Dermot got a hug. The man looked a bit shocked, and King offered me an amused look before looking back at his cousin with a calculating expression. Yeah, he was aware of his cousin’s reaction towards Dahlia. Called that shit. Not that it was all that surprising—she had that effect on everyone she met.
Dahlia was like a beautiful, sweet flower in the middle of all this darkness. It was why it was so damn difficult to keep other men away from her. Hell, other people in general. People who wanted to damage that sweetness. To stop her from growing even more passionate and loving towards those around her, to strangle that beauty. I knew it was impossible to keep her protected from everything in this world, but I would do my damn best.
I watched her cross the street, and when Yates parked her car, I paused, wondering if they were going to talk. I shook my head as Dahlia wrapped her arms around his waist, saying something that had him kissing her forehead. I hoped he understood how fucking lucky he was. Bastard. As he walked back home, he offered us a wave, seemingly lost in thought.
I didn’t blame him. It had been a long night.
“See you guys tomorrow,” I called out as my brother walked with me towards our estate, leaving King and Dermot talking quietly about something behind us in the driveway.
Our house was silent as we walked in, and I found myself heading towards my studio on the top floor of the house instead of my bedroom. I was tired, but I also knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I got something down. I tugged off my shirt and ran a hand over my face, turning on a light over my most recent project. I looked over the current canvas and tilted my head, enjoying how it was coming out.
The strokes were even in shading, and the vibrant green I’d chosen stood out, even in the dim light. Then again, it was hard for me to not love the painting considering the subject.
Anything with Dahlia’s face on it had that effect on me.
Chapter Eight
Dahlia Aldridge
A heavy material fell over my face as I muttered a curse, pulling it away from my eyes to glare up at the figure standing above me. It couldn’t have been earlier than nine, so what the hell was he doing up? And in my back yard? I didn’t even feel insecure about the bikini I was in. I had slipped out here around an hour ago to get a bit of morning tanning in before heading to Ivy Grove. Now Stratton was standing over me with a scowl on his face.
“What are you doing?” I cupped my hand above my brow so I could see his bright blue gaze, letting the towel he’d dropped on me fall to the pool deck.
“I have a landscape crew over right now.” He crouched down, his jaw tight, and I arched a brow at how pissy he looked. Geez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
“Do you need coffee?” I mused. I grabbed my mug and offered it to him while turning on my side, his eyes running down my frame only momentarily before he swallowed and refocused on my face.
“No, I need you to put some damn clothes on. They aren’t going to get any work done until you do,” he snarled. My brow dipped, noticing a large bruise as I looked down at his fingers on the edge of my pool chair, the beige material contrasting his busted knuckles. I didn’t like that at all.
“Stratton,” I said, alarmed, and sat up slightly. “You’re injured.”
His eyes softened. “I’m fine, angel face. But if you don’t get your ass
inside, I’m going to be less fine, and half of them are going to be fired or dead.” Dramatic.
Groaning, I looked across the pool to his back yard where there were in fact men working… but mostly staring at me. I winced and grabbed the towel as he huffed, sitting on the pool chair and covering my frame from view. I smiled sweetly and grabbed my oversized shirt, pulling it over my bikini. Normally I would have been a bit more insecure, but Stratton had seen me in a swimsuit almost every day all summer, so I didn’t feel as awkward.
I mean, I still wondered if he liked what he saw… but I wasn’t going to overthink it.
“Are you coming to the tournament?” I asked curiously, taking a sip of my coffee. Stratton looked good this morning despite the bruising, and I couldn’t help but look over his shirtless chest and worn jeans. He was way too sexy—it was a bit unfair.
He sighed. “I wish I could, angel face.”
“You should.” I squeezed his arm, and his eyes flashed up to mine.
“She’s been having a rough week,” he explained quietly as I nodded in understanding. Biting my lip, I considered something.
“Do you want to do something Sunday? After the twins’ rugby match? Just hang out or something?” I felt a bit vulnerable asking, but the way his eyes warmed had me feeling like it was worth it.
“Sure. I was going to take a ride, we can find somewhere to go for the day,” he offered, his fingers brushing over my leg as he went to go stand up. I took his hand, and he reached out and grabbed my coffee with the other, the two of us walking towards the house. I knew I needed to get ready for the day, but I felt uneasy about Stratton not being part of the tournament again. His grandma and him used to come every year. I just wish there was a way that they could… or maybe I didn’t need to go.
“You’re going,” he said, offering me a look as I blushed. Mind-reading bastard.
I leaned against the back door and crossed my arms. “I wasn’t even going to suggest that.”