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

by M. Sinclair

  My leg began to bounce as I tried to shake myself from the feelings he inspired. Wasn’t it time for this match to start? I felt like it was. Plus, I very much wanted to see the twins.

  The bleachers began to fill up behind us, our spots up front and close enough to see all the action. I didn’t recognize any of the faces joining us in the stands, despite feeling eyes on us, and I wondered if that had to do with the media attention that had been paid specifically to me this weekend. My picture had been all over the news, and I hated to admit that it not only made me uncomfortable, but that I had forgotten to add makeup to my outfit to cover the bruises on my jaw today. They were growing fainter, but I didn’t need to give any more ammo to the media, and I knew it made my boys upset to see them, even if they would never admit to that.

  It could have been none of that though. I mean, to be fair, Dermot and I stood out a bit. The field was almost twenty minutes from our house, near a large sports complex they used for training in the middle of nowhere, so very few people here were from Camellia. The surrounding areas were far less affluent, more middle to upper class, so everything from Dermot’s car to how we were dressed stood out, even if we weren’t trying.

  Taking a slow sip of my drink, I let out a pleasurable sigh at the peppermint taste.

  “You cold?” Dermot asked as I bounced slightly in anticipation.

  “No,” I shook my head, “just eager for the match to start.”

  Dermot nodded, his gaze still filled with curiosity and concern. I offered him a small smile as if I didn’t know what he was curious about. Luckily, I didn’t have to put it off for too long, because the teams were arriving, and I eagerly sat forward, looking for Sterling and Lincoln. I had been to several matches, and each time they seemed to get more attractive in those rugby uniforms. Although, unlike today, I rarely got to gawk because I was either with King or Yates.

  My brow dipped, wondering where both of them were this morning. I didn’t have my phone, but it was odd that they hadn’t mentioned going and for them to decide to just not show up. I was tempted to ask Dermot if King had texted him, but I didn’t want to risk him telling King we were here. If he saw me, he would absolutely, one hundred percent, know something was wrong. He would push, and then Yates would demand, and I would miss the entire match before I knew what was happening.

  “How long have they been playing?” Dermot asked curiously, leaning forward while tilting his head. I could see his interest in the game, and it made me happy to know he would enjoy himself.

  “Forever, it feels like.” I flashed a smile. “But they went semi-pro at the start of the summer.”

  Dermot nodded and then frowned. “So does that mean they will be traveling? I’m assuming that their season starts in September?”

  “I think so. I know their schedule has some traveling games to the East Coast and then international,” I mused, wondering if they would let me go with. “The team they are going against today is just a university team. More for fun than anything.”

  “You’re the only one with the right rugby jersey on,” he pointed out. I smiled smugly.

  “That’s because I’m special,” I explained primly as Dermot barked out a laugh, drawing attention. I wasn’t lying, though—the twins had to pull some serious strings to get me this jersey, mostly because it wasn’t all that common practice to give them out pre-season. But since the team was so eager to have the twins on board? I now had one in my possession. I had a collection of several from high school, but those wouldn’t do.

  Plus, this made me feel important to the twins. Something I was starting to think they really viewed me as. I just hoped it was on the same level that I viewed them on.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get you one,” I teased. Dermot let out a small hum of amusement as my eyes narrowed on the team finally making their way onto the pitch.

  I was smiling the minute I saw the twins.

  They were so damn handsome, it was truly unfair. Sterling’s hair was slightly damp from the misted air, and Lincoln was telling him something that made him laugh, his smile dangerous and really beautiful. I could practically hear the other women in the stands swooning, and I didn’t even blame them. Lincoln’s hair was messy and his contacts were in, leaving his stunning eyes completely uninhibited from my view as his gaze finally moved over to me. I waved, smiling, as Lincoln flashed me a smile and Sterling winked, tossing me an air kiss that legit had me blushing.

  Ridiculous. He was way too cute and attractive for his own good. I loved how goofy and relaxed he seemed right now—it made my day that much better, if we were being honest. As the teams got ready for the match to begin, I looked back over to Dermot and froze, realizing his curious eyes were already on me.

  “What?” I asked softly.

  His eyes darkened slightly as he shook his head and looked back at the field. He didn’t look upset, exactly… Instead, he looked almost sad? Why would he be sad? Before I could stop myself, I leaned into him slightly, nudging him with my elbow as he looked down at me with a small smile.

  It still wasn’t enough. I didn’t like seeing even a hint of gloom. It was funny how much others’ sadness bothered me when I struggled with it so often. The match was going to start soon, but I gave him something small, figuring he deserved it for helping me out today.

  “I heard Stratton in the grocery store saying that we weren’t friends,” I murmured. “I need to talk to him, but I’m just not ready for that yet.”

  Dermot’s eyes sharpened on me, and he examined my expression before nodding and wrapping an arm around my waist so that I was comfortably leaning into him. He still had yet to say anything, but I could feel a shift in his body language, and while he didn’t seem happy, per se, he seemed more relaxed. Less tense and less sad.

  As the match began, I watched with vested interest, the first half seeming to fly by as I cheered on the twins. I honestly felt bad for the university team—they were getting their butts handed to them, but I suppose that was sort of the point of this. Right? It was rainy and muddy, so while the twins were having a blast, they were absolutely covered in mud, and Lincoln’s nose was bleeding from where he had gotten hit.

  Not that you could tell—both of them looked thrilled, and I could literally feel myself shiver as Sterling wiped his face of the drizzling rain by lifting up his jersey. A small sound broke in my throat at his perfectly cut abs, and I began imagining just how the twins looked naked. I bet they were perfect, muscular, and huge… I totally needed to know now. What was different about them? Better yet, what wasn’t? I mean, I could tell both of them were massive…

  When the match officially hit half, I stood and went to the railing, hoping that at least one of them would come say hi. Sterling jogged over as Lincoln was getting his nose looked at, making me worry, but only until his brother was in front of me.

  “He’s fine,” he promised, tugging on a braid as I leaned on the railing, officially eye level with him. “You look adorable, sugar.”

  “And you look muddy,” I pointed out.

  “You sure you don’t want a hug?”

  I squeaked as he smiled and tugged me forward, burying his head against my neck as he smeared mud all over me, making me let out a legit giggle. As he pulled back, I couldn’t help but run my hands through his hair.

  “Don’t be so selfish with her!” Lincoln’s voice had me looking over Sterling’s shoulder as the man in question made his way over. Sterling said something to Dermot behind me, but I was already touching Lincoln’s face, frowning at his nose.

  “You look so worried,” he teased, his normal more serious and reserved attitude clearly amped up from the game.

  “Well now I’m not.” I tapped the top of his head.

  Before he could say anything, there was a call from back on the pitch, causing me to look away for a moment. That was all it took for Lincoln to take me off guard by tugging my jaw back and pressing a kiss to my lips before winking and jogging away. I stood frozen in surprise until
Sterling scowled.

  “Why did he get a kiss of good luck?” he growled.

  My mouth opened as I offered him a stunned look, because holy moly, we were in public! Sterling chuckled and tugged me forward, pressing his lips to mine before he left as well, leaving me in a state of shock. My cheeks turned bright pink as I sank back down into the bleachers, voices from behind us no doubt making note of whatever that was.

  Oh man, that would probably end up in some media…

  “So that’s how it is, huh?” Dermot asked, looking authentically amused.

  I tilted my head. “I have no idea what the heck just happened.”

  “You don’t normally kiss?” He flashed a smile, as if he was loving teasing me.

  “I mean…” I stuttered, “It’s more that we are in public…”

  Before he could say anything, his phone began buzzing, and a weird sense of apprehension rolled over my skin. He picked it up, and immediately his eyes darted towards me.

  “Yeah, she’s here,” he said lazily, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

  I could hear King’s voice, and he sounded worked up.

  “Doesn’t have her phone on her.” Dermot frowned, squeezing my hand. “She’s fine, King. I promise you. She just needed to get out of Wildberry for a bit.”

  There was another pause before he sighed and offered me the phone.

  “Princess,” King’s voice was a low growl.

  “Good afternoon to you, too,” I chimed, trying to act like he wasn’t probably losing his mind. I could hear Yates griping in the background.

  “Why did you go to the game today? It’s raining,” he demanded. “And you didn’t bring your phone.”

  “I was always planning on going, I wouldn’t miss their game,” I pointed out before sighing. “Plus, I just needed a breather, and this is the perfect place for it.”

  King seemed to consider something. “Is that why Stratton has been blowing up my phone asking where you are?” Reality hit me hard as everything I’d been avoiding flooded back. Perfect.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled as the game started back up. “I really don’t want to deal with this right now, King—”

  “He’s on his way there.”

  “What?!”

  “What the hell happened?” King demanded as I handed the phone back to Dermot and looked towards the parking lot. I tapped my foot and felt a surge of guilt. I was at a point where I could either leave the twins’ match and beg Dermot to drive me home… or I could wait until Stratton got here and made a scene. One of those was going to happen.

  “Do you want to stay?” Dermot asked, hanging up.

  “No,” I spoke softly.

  “The twins will understand. Let’s get you out of here, this isn’t the place to handle whatever is going on,” he insisted. The game was back in progress, so the twins didn’t see as we stood up and exited the bleachers. Crap. I felt like such garbage. What if they thought this was about the kiss? I pushed it away as we entered the parking lot and near Dermot’s DBS Superleggera. It was a stunning car, and I wondered when it had arrived—I assumed it was something he had to get shipped over.

  Before I could get into the car, the sound of a motorcycle had me letting out a low groan. Dermot muttered a curse but didn’t usher me into the car, his frame leaning against the door and watching Stratton with a peculiar look. He wasn’t angry, but he didn’t look happy, either. I wish I could read him better. I wanted to take a picture of all his expressions so I knew them perfectly. I crossed my arms as Stratton came to a stop on his bike, blocking our path out of the lot.

  My mouth dried up, because, good lord he was hot. Seriously, as he ran a hand through his dark hair and got off the bike, I scowled at the lack of helmet, and then hated that his looks had been my first thought. I had constantly reminded him, since he first got the bike, to wear his helmet… probably a bit obsessively. The fact that he had forgotten it made me realize just how worked up he currently was about our situation. His dark boots and leather jacket were damp with rain, and his blue eyes were filled with pain as he looked momentarily at Dermot before moving his eyes back to me.

  “Why the hell don’t you have your phone with you?”

  “That’s what you came here to say? Seriously?”

  His frustration was apparent. “Dahlia, you don’t understand what is going on. We need to talk, now. I am taking you home—”

  “No you aren’t,” Dermot said evenly.

  Stratton’s temper sparked. “Yes, I fucking am. I don’t give a damn if your King’s cousin—”

  “It’s raining, she’s not going on a motorcycle,” Dermot said evenly again, his voice firm but not angry… just unrelenting. “I was driving her back anyway. You don’t even have a fucking helmet with you.”

  I saw reality hit Stratton as his eyes moved back towards me. “You promise to hear me out when we get back.”

  “That wasn’t a question,” I swallowed.

  “Angel,” his voice was rough, “Please?”

  “Maybe,” I mumbled, running a hand through my hair, only to have it stopped by the braid. “Can we just get out of the rain?”

  Dermot unlocked the door and I slid into the car, leaving the two of them out there as the warm air made me realize he had remote-started it a bit ago. I watched as Stratton said something to Dermot, the tension between the two of them easing as Dermot responded. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after another minute, Stratton looked at me through the windshield before starting up his bike again and flying off down the street.

  With no helmet. That bothered me like you wouldn’t believe.

  Dermot got into the car, muttering foreign words under his breath as I buckled myself in and sunk into my seat. I found myself lost in thought as we made our way home, Dermot continuing to look at me out of the corner of his eye. I could feel him wanting to say something, but something in my expression must have stopped him. I swallowed nervously, running a hand over my throat as we reached the familiar gates.

  Almost instantly I groaned. Crap.

  “Just pull up outside of my house,” I sighed and then spoke softer, “Thanks for getting me away for a bit. I needed that.”

  Dermot reached over and tugged my braid lightly, looking like he wanted to say something, but stopped as a fist pounded on his window.

  “Fucking bastard,” Dermot snarled as I opened my door and got out. Instantly Yates was there in my space, crowding me against the car.

  “Why the hell didn’t you have your phone with you?” Oh sweet christ.

  I put my hand on his chest and offered him a look, stepping out from the space between the car and Yates’s hot frame. King was standing there, looking equally as intense as I let out a huff of air. I pinned them both with a look.

  “I need a few hours, okay?” I asked, my voice soft. “Please?”

  I think my lack of combative attitude came through to Yates, because he looked more worried than anything. King’s jaw clenched as he glanced away, looking like he very much didn’t agree. I met Dermot’s gaze as he offered me a nod, then made my way towards my house.

  Where was Stratton? Maybe he had decided against talking…

  “You get two hours, princess.” King demanded. I put a hand up to signal I’d heard him, resisting the urge to argue as I made my way inside. The house was silent, making me wonder where my parents were as I trudged up the stairs.

  Part of me hoped Stratton wouldn’t come to talk.

  I wasn’t ready to face facts.

  As I opened my bedroom door, I sighed, because of course he was already here.

  “Angel,” he whispered, his voice was soft and worried.

  Here goes everything.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dahlia Aldridge

  There was no escaping him. I swallowed hard, locking my door and leaning against the wood frame as I examined Stratton. His leather jacket was tossed out on the balcony ledge he had clearly climbed through, and his muscular arms were on display, the s
leeves cut off of his black shirt, which was tight and wet from his ride through the rain. I could tell his boots and jeans were dripping water on the floor, but I didn’t care. What did I worry about? The tension running through him. I could see his frustration, concern, and anger.

  I had absolutely no idea what to say to him.

  Honestly, I wasn’t even positive how I was staying so calm right now. I felt like sobbing and throwing something at him. I felt like going to sleep and ignoring all of this.

  I let out a shaky breath, removing my shoes and walking towards my bed, turning on my phone as I looked down at the incoming messages. I tried to not overthink that.

  Suddenly, an Instagram direct message popped up from a fake profile that instructed me to go fuck yourself. Wonderful. Peachy.

  I felt tears well in my eyes as I set my phone upside down on the table before looking up. Swaying back slightly, I realized that Stratton was there, right in my space as he examined the tears streaking down my face. Luckily, he didn’t attach it to my phone, and I could tell by the guilt on his face that he thought I was crying because of him.

  Something that was true, in part…

  It was just everything, and god, was I over it right now.

  My eyes felt gritty and uncomfortable as I ran my fingers over them, smearing my makeup, no doubt. I stared at him, unable to look away. I tried to not let my eyes stray to his tattoos, which seemed to be moving as his muscles tightened with tension. I could feel the connection between us, but unlike normal, there was nothing that I could say. I didn’t understand why he would have said something like that earlier.

  He wants nothing to do with you.

  “You climbed up my balcony?” I asked, my voice almost a rasp. The idea of him scaling the trellis was sort of hot. Actually, it was super hot. He was like a tattooed Romeo… No. No, he wasn’t because Romeo didn’t talk crap about Juliet, and he never denied wanting her.

  Well, except to his family… no. I wasn’t going to justify his BS.

  Suddenly, my resolve hardened, my back straightening. I was not going to be weak. As if he saw me firming myself, his jaw clenched.