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

by M. Sinclair

  “Ian, I do not like your hands on me,” I snapped as his grip tightened.

  “What about other things?” he mused, his arrogance never dissipating.

  That was enough to get me to push firmly on his chest, catching him off guard enough to slip away from him. I breathed out in relief, but then a hard arm wrapped around my waist. I let out a small scream that was muffled by his hand slapping hard across my mouth, the skin stinging as I struggled against him. I stomped down on his foot as he cursed, but it didn’t help, his body pressing me against the wall and out of sight from the turn into the ballroom. Goddamn it.

  I started to hyperventilate as I felt his lips press against my neck and his hand grasp at my hip, his body pinning me to the wall. My fingers dug into his arm hard as I tried to scream, even bite his hand, my vision going blurry at the hard hold he had on me. I whimpered as his grip turned bruising.

  This was so fucked up. A bubble of an almost sob sound broke from my throat.

  “You like that?” he hissed. “I fucking knew you were into me.”

  Tears welled in my eyes as I tried to struggle again, refusing to let him do this. My pulse was racing so fast I thought I was going to pass out. If that happened, I would be so screwed. I felt my vision blur, and when the tears hit his hand, his grip tightened on my jaw tight enough that I felt like he may break something.

  My eyes closed, never having felt so fucking helpless in my goddamn life.

  I couldn’t pass out. I just couldn’t. I kept repeating that to myself, hoping for his lips to move from my skin and for his touch to disappear.

  Then it didn’t matter. The pressure on me was released, and I slipped against the wall, curling in on myself as a sob broke from my throat. Lights were turned on around me and yelling echoed through the space, the sound of someone being hit repeatedly causing me to shiver. I tried to block out the noise around me, gripping myself further, especially when I felt a familiar pair of hands try to hold me. I couldn’t.

  My vision swam as I finally heard my mom’s voice. “Dahlia, honey, I need you to let Sterling help you up. Sweetheart, please.”

  My eyes opened as I met her gaze and let Sterling’s firm grasp help me up, then hold me against him. I didn’t realize it, but my nails were practically digging into his chest, hard, clutching him. There were so many people, and chaos was exploding around us. The media was taking photos, and I didn’t realize why at first until I saw something I would never forget.

  Yates beating the shit out of Ian.

  I don’t mean that lightly—he was literally on top of him, pounding the absolute hell out of him as both King and Lincoln tried to restrain him. Something that I could see was against their nature, because they both looked livid. I was still shaking in Sterling’s arms when Dermot appeared, brushing my hair back from my face as I watched Mr. Ross grab Ian by the collar and pull him away quickly.

  Yates was finally pulled away as his father started talking to him in a low voice, the other parents trying to distract the media from what was going on. I could see pictures being taken, and all I could focus on was my boys, Yates shaking with fury. My mom was talking quietly to my father, his face angrier than I’d ever seen it.

  I was seeing the moment but not really experiencing it, everything going cold.

  Mr. Ross was holding Ian by the collar, his lips against his ear as the kid started shaking, making me feel even more dizzy. I didn’t understand what was going on. King was there then, grasping my face as he turned it away from his father and Yates. I think I was in shock. I also think I’d never seen this side of my family.

  “Dahlia, we are leaving, come on,” King said as he literally picked me up. I clung to him, my eyes going to Yates, who was being led away by Lincoln, his face red and blood-splattered, his hair messy. He was yelling something, but my ears were buzzing. I was shaking, and my vision was blurring.

  “Yates!” Mr. Carter snapped, his voice harder than before. “Take her home now, before the cops get here. I’m fucking serious. We will talk at home.”

  Yates’s eyes snapped to me as he let out a harsh breath, breaking past the twins and Dermot. King watched him cautiously before Yates offered him a look, and I realized he was transferring his hold on me. I curled against Yates, tucking my face into his neck, his entire body shaking, the smell of blood covering him as we walked outside.

  “Bunny,” his voice was dark and low, “I need you to tell me you’re okay.”

  “I’m okay now,” I promised softly, my lips pressing against his neck. “I just want to go home.”

  I wasn’t okay, though. I wasn’t okay at all.

  I didn’t remember the ride home, not exactly. I remembered the boys talking, but mostly I was focused on smoothing my fingers through Yates’s hair as he slowly stopped shaking with anger. I needed to shower. He needed to shower. He had blood on him, but I literally smelled like Ian. It was enough to make me feel sick to my stomach.

  “Her parents are going to want her home,” Kingston said softly.

  “Meet me over at my house, I’m going back with her.” Yates replied, his voice edged in exhaustion. “I need to make sure—”

  “I get it,” King’s voice was hard.

  “We can’t do anything until he leaves the country,” Lincoln voiced, confusing me.

  “He will be leaving tonight,” Kingston leveled.

  “Your dad says a call is headed your way,” Dermot said softly. “About thirty minutes.”

  “Thank fuck,” Sterling muttered.

  I had no idea what was going on, and honestly, I didn’t care. I just kept my eyes closed as Yates got out of the car with me in his arms, carrying me inside. I blinked as I adjusted to the lights of my familiar bedroom.

  “Bath,” he muttered. “You smell like him.”

  “You have to help me with the dress,” I said softly as he sat me down on a velvet seat. His large frame kneeled in front of me as he gently undid my heels, my eyes tracing the blood on his face as I felt a weird sense of safety filter over me. Yates had made sure Ian wouldn’t hurt me. He had protected me.

  I watched as he went to fill up the tub, and I slid off my diamond rings and began to slowly take the jewels out of my hair. I didn’t know what to make of this situation, and I honestly was surprised that I was here with Yates, of all people.

  King? Lincoln? Sterling? Sure. But not Yates. It meant way more to me than I could have ever imagined.

  “Is everything going to be okay? Kingston sounded worked up,” I murmured as Yates easily unpinned my hair and unzipped the side of my dress. His touch was so gentle despite the tension and anger I could feel coursing through him.

  Yates exhaled and nodded. “I need to call my father quickly, bunny. Can you hop in there really quick? I will be right back.”

  Instead of feeling weird about the moment, I nodded as he closed the door, leaving me to slip out of the dress and into the massive clawfoot tub that was filled with hot water and bubbles. I sunk below the surface and waited patiently for him to come back in, his voice low and angry in the other room.

  As he came back through the door, I saw exhaustion and frustration on his face. He ran a hand over his face and then went to the sink, shrugging off his jacket and bloody shirt, putting them in a pile before washing his face until it was free from blood. I watched him with wide eyes before the man came over and sat on the tile floor, resting the side of his head against the edge of the tub. The water was slowly heating my body, and I could feel my numbness fading just a bit, making way for anxiety.

  Although right now I was more worried about Yates.

  “What’s going to happen?” I asked.

  “The police are going to come by sometime tonight, probably. Ian’s family has enough pull to cause a few issues, but he will be back on his plane home tonight,” he murmured in a tired voice.

  “What were King and the others talking about in the car?”

  Yates made a small noise and sighed. “Don’t worry about that, bu
nny, just trust me. You will never see Ian again. Fucking ever.”

  I relaxed at that, and my fingers tentatively began to play with his hair as he let out a soft, almost sad noise. I found my voice weak as I finally spoke.

  “Thank you, Yates.”

  His jaw clenched as he shook his head. “You never need to thank me for what happened tonight, Dahlia.”

  My lips pressed together as I continued to brush through his hair gently, tears welling in my eyes. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  His eyes snapped open, and he looked at me with an intense gaze. “I don’t fucking care about how much trouble I am in for tonight. I would do it again and again, bunny.”

  “I tried to fight back,” I choked out as pain flashed across his face.

  “I know,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against mine.

  I have no idea how long we sat there like that, but at some point, he took a call and I slipped out of the tub, wrapping myself in a robe that covered me completely in security. I crawled into bed, and I’d been only slightly surprised when Yates had laid out next to me, his eyes on the ceiling but his arm wrapping around me so that I was plastered against him. I fell asleep like that, realizing that he may have needed the comfort more than I did.

  I should have realized I would have nightmares.

  I couldn’t tell you what they were about, but when I woke up next, it was dark and I was covered in a cold sweat, alone in my room. I could see red and blue lights flashing outside, and I shakily got out of bed, going to change into a soft shift dress before making my way downstairs. I stopped halfway down to sit and watch the police talk to several figures outside. I knew the dads were out there, along with most of my boys.

  “Dahlia?” My mom’s voice came from behind me as I looked up to find her carrying two cups of tea. I went to stand but she waved me off, sitting next to me as I took a cup from her and leaned my head against her shoulder.

  “Is Yates going to be in trouble?” I whispered.

  My mom laughed softly. “No. Mr. Carter would never let that happen. The only ones that need to be worried are that piece of shit McCaffrey family.”

  A small surprised laugh bubbled from my mouth. “Mom!”

  She shrugged as I looked at her expression, tinged with a bit of amusement, but mostly filled with anger. “Your father and his friends have always been fiercely protective of their families, Dahlia, ever since you were little. I suspect it’s a trait they passed onto their sons.”

  Yes… that was accurate, I’d say.

  “Dad looked pissed,” I pointed out, remembering his expression.

  My mom made an amused ‘hmph.’ “Understatement. Your father is an amazing man, but everyone has their faults, and his temper when it comes to someone hurting his family is… intense. Not a bad thing, but it did surprise me at first when we started dating.”

  I nodded in understanding. “Yates and King both have a temper. I get that.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Those boys are very protective over you. Just remember to not judge them too harshly on what they do to keep you safe in their mind. You’re their entire world, honey.”

  I blinked, absorbing her words as I frowned. I examined her expression, but she just squeezed my shoulder and stood up. “I’m going to go make sure your father doesn’t land his ass in jail for the night.”

  I almost smiled at that.

  The way my mom talked felt odd. Not bad, but odd. I tilted my head, wondering if she realized how she talked about us, the boys and I. I didn’t know if I was reading too much into it, but sometimes it almost felt like she treated them as more than just my friends.

  You wish.

  Standing up, I stepped down the stairs and moved out onto the porch. Almost immediately, Kingston looked up from where he stood talking quietly to his father, a few steps back from the police. Mr. Ross offered me a small smile as King approached, his eyes shaded with something dark. I sighed as his arms completely wrapped around me, his frame coating me in heat. I let out a small breath of relief as he pressed his lips into my hair and let out a small rumble in the back of his throat.

  “I fought back,” I said in a quiet voice, wanting him to know.

  “I know, princess.” His voice was rough like he’d been yelling. “I know you did.”

  “How?” I mumbled.

  “Security cameras,” he got out, a shudder seeming to roll over his skin as he tilted my jaw up, looking over my face. Something dark and a bit scary flashed across his expression. “He left bruises on your jaw.”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” I promised as I pressed my head against his chest. “I’m just glad he’s gone. Yates said he is heading back home?”

  Kingston made a sound and said something under his breath. “Yeah, he’s gone.”

  I blinked at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  There was a lot I meant by that.

  His gaze ran over my expression before he spoke quietly. “Ian isn’t going to face this without punishment, princess. You have to understand that.”

  I watched his eyes and saw only the truth there. Did I want to know what he meant by that? Honestly… not really. I didn’t need details.

  “I do,” I answered. “You promise to always tell me stuff when it relates to me, King? I don’t like feeling out of the loop.”

  His brow dipped. “I would never purposefully make you feel that way. Have I?”

  “A little,” I whispered. “Like how do you know Callum?”

  His eyes flashed slightly. “Through work.”

  “The Ross Company?”

  “Sort of,” he hedged, and then ran a hand over his jaw. “I want to keep you safe, Dahlia. You trust me to do that, right?”

  “Of course, Kingston,” I lulled, my head against his chest.

  “Sometimes it’s safer to be able to deny knowing shit,” he breathed out.

  “You would tell me if I needed to know?”

  “Always.”

  I exhaled in slight relief. “I can deal with that.”

  King opened his mouth to say something else, but a creak in the stairs alerted me to someone approaching. “King, they need to talk to you.”

  Lincoln.

  King pressed a kiss to my forehead and left me with Linc, his hands coming up to cup my jaw as he examined my expression. “You weren’t able to sleep?”

  “Woke up after a nightmare,” I explained. I grabbed his hand and brought us to sit on the porch swing, then looked towards the police. “Do they need to talk to me?”

  “They want to.”

  “Should I? Would it make it easier?” I whispered.

  He exhaled. “They should fuck off. They have the footage from the security cameras already.”

  Resting my head on his shoulder, I nibbled my lip. “Is the tournament still okay for tomorrow? I know there were a ton of news crews.”

  “And even more tomorrow,” he mused. “Don’t worry about that, though. They are allowed to follow the actual match, but the rest of it is private. We can stay home, though, if you want—”

  “No,” I whispered. “I want to go. I am not going to let him ruin my favorite place.” Lincoln nodded and pulled me close. This time when I dozed off, no nightmares came.

  Chapter Ten

  Dahlia Aldridge

  More media was an understatement.

  Unfortunately, it was somewhat unavoidable. The entire situation at the gala had made national news by five this morning. How did I know that? Because I’d yet to sleep and had watched when the networks began to report on it, their bright-eyed and cheery faces seemingly ‘shocked’ at such a large social issue in a town like ours.

  Was anyone actually surprised? Also, didn’t we have larger issues to worry about?

  But yeah, after waking up from my nightmare, I’d not only taken the time to talk to the police, but made sure to keep it together and keep calm, for both my guys’ and family’s sake.

  I could tell it was one of those things that
I needed to push past, because focusing too directly on it would only cause others around me pain. After the police left, I’d spent the early dawn on my front porch, drinking coffee as my boys seemed lost in thought, all of them spread out across the wooden surface.

  Even Stratton was there, despite him not being at the gala. When I’d made my way down to the police officers, he had nearly taken me back inside himself, and that was when I realized how upset he was. Although, honestly, it was pretty obvious by how tense he’d been.

  While they’d questioned me, he had stood right behind me, his entire demeanor aggressive, as if the police were somehow doing something wrong. The intimidation worked, for the record—the police had very much looked uncomfortable—and following the questioning, Stratton had stayed out on the porch with me, looking deep in thought. I wasn’t positive what was on his mind, but he had essentially gone mute, and it worried me that the situation had somehow done the opposite of ‘made progress.’ When he had finally made his way back to his house for the morning, he’d done so with a kiss to the top of my head and nothing to my other guys in terms of a ‘goodbye.’ Honestly, all of them seemed pretty out of it, so I wasn’t positive they noticed.

  It had been a good time to suggest getting ready for the day, and when I’d walked inside, my mom and dad had been sitting in the kitchen, talking quietly. Getting a hug wasn’t unusual in my family, but the hug that my dad gave me? It made me realize just how upset he was about the entire situation. I’d tried to be extremely positive from that point on, and when they asked if I wanted to go today, I’d immediately agreed. If I stayed home, it would be all they thought about, and I knew today was important.

  I had conceded to my mom that it may not be a bad idea to talk to someone about what had happened, although that idea made me a bit uncomfortable. I mean, I thought therapy was an excellent concept, and I was actually very pro-mental health… it was just a bit harder when it came to practicing it myself. Also, opening up to strangers always left me feeling a lack of control.