Becoming A Vincent (The Wild Ones Book 1)

by C. M. Owens

  He nods, a smile curving his lips now.

  “Got it.” Then Paul’s smile disappears. “How are you going to get past the brothers? You know they’ll be ready to kick your ass if you start hassling her. You can fight, but there’s two of them. And…they’re Vincents. They won’t hold back if Lilah lets them off the leash. And they won’t fight fair if they’re not on that leash.”

  I’m painfully aware they’ve never fought me dirty, which is why I always won. As long as Killian couldn’t hit me with his mean right, I could kick their asses. One at a time.

  Two at once in an unfair setting? My odds greatly depreciate.

  “Actually…I need your help with that.”

  He pales. As expected.

  “Nope. No. Not happening. I never want a Vincent coming after me. You’re on your own.”

  “I can help,” Deacon says, looking over at me.

  My jaw grinds.

  “I owe you this. I think it’s time to…try to fix things. I’m also not scared of two guys who got their asses kicked by a girl,” my brother goes on.

  “A Vincent girl,” Paul is quick to interject. He wasn’t here, but he knows the drill without having seen it today. “They allow her to kick their asses.”

  I nod in agreement with him.

  Deacon shrugs. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

  Considering I’ve always wanted payback, I have no qualms about sending him in unprepared.

  “If you make her hate me worse, I’ll kill you myself,” I say with a pointed stare.

  “I don’t want her to hate you. I just want to help you fix this,” he tells me earnestly.

  Sadie walks by, and we all get quiet.

  “What?” she asks, studying us. “Are you two talking about me?” she asks, her eyes narrowing as she points between me and Deacon.

  “No. We’re talking about Lilah,” Paul says, frowning. “Who the hell are you?”

  Her face relaxes. “Sadie.”

  He continues to stare at her. “Okay…but who are you?”

  In that moment, Sadie’s face falls, and she realizes she wasn’t important enough for me to ever whine about when I ran off to this place. She blows out a breath before turning and walking away.

  Deacon is practically beaming.

  “So what do I do?” my brother asks, unaware of what’s about to happen to him.

  “Deliver a message.”

  “Can’t you just call her?” my mother asks, confused. Hell, I forgot she’s been listening to all this.

  “Lilah doesn’t have a phone,” Paul supplies.

  “Her flag is up, so I know she’s at home right now,” I go on.

  “Her flag is up?” Deacon asks, eyebrows rising.

  “Are you going to help or not?” I ask him, exasperated. I don’t have the time or patience to explain Tomahawk to him right now.

  “Two against two sounds like better odds, so I’m definitely going to help. What’s the message?”

  “Not today,” Paul says, shaking his head. “The brothers won’t leave her today. Wait until tomorrow.”

  As much as I hate the thought of giving her more time to stew, I know he’s right. If I tried to cross the lake, they’d possibly throw pipe bombs at me.

  I wish I was kidding.

  “You think you could get them out tomorrow?” I ask him.

  “Me? No. Delaney can though, as long as I explain that there’s a really good reason for all this. There is a reason for all this, right? It’s not just because Lilah is afraid to settle down?” Paul asks with a frown.

  Yeah, no. I’m not telling him.

  “Helping or not, Paul? In or out?”

  “Delaney might come for him if you don’t hurry up and help,” my brother goads, not knowing anything at all about Delaney.

  She’d never do that to Lilah. Even if she wasn’t her friend, Delaney isn’t suicidal.

  A determined glint shades Paul’s eyes. “I’m in.”

  I point a finger at Deacon. “Whatever happens…no matter what is said…do not tell Lilah my true last name.”

  “Why?” he asks slowly.

  Sighing heavily, I answer, “Because this is Tomahawk.”

  Chapter 20

  Wild Ones Tip #26

  If your ass catches on fire, jump in the lake. That’s what it’s there for.

  LILAH

  I’m not sure who I’m expecting when I swing open the door to find out who the hell is banging it so loudly, but it’s certainly not Deacon—Benson’s brother.

  I pump my Daisy, aiming it at his forehead, and he holds his hands up as a smile etches across his face. A face too similar—but smoother with no beard at all—to Benson’s.

  Why is he smiling? Does he not realize this thing is loaded? I know it looks small, but it’s pump action—Vincent style. It hurts like a bitch the more times I pump.

  “Easy. I’m just here to talk,” he says, still grinning.

  “The last girl who dated Benson that you talked to announced she was pregnant with your baby,” I remind him, feeling defensive of the bastard even as I hate him a little.

  That turns his smile into a grimace. “Which is why I’m here on behalf of my brother now, to do the right thing for once.”

  “Tell me why you screwed his fiancée, and I’ll consider not shooting you.”

  “Are all the women here like you?” he muses.

  “Some are crazier,” I say with a shrug, now feeling defensive of myself as I stand a little taller, pushing my shoulders back as though that somehow helps me look saner.

  His grin spreads again, but it falls when he exhales harshly. “Fine. To be fair, they weren’t engaged the first time I was with her. I wanted Sadie before my brother. We were sixteen—”

  “Who’s we?” I interrupt.

  “All of us. Sadie, me, and Benson.”

  I lower the gun a little, keeping it pointed at his groin now. Which he subtly tries to cover. Guess he witnessed Benson’s pain. That makes me feel a little better.

  Wait? All of them were the same age? That means—

  “You and Benson are twins?” I ask, that part of the puzzle suddenly snapping together.

  “Fraternal twins,” he says, frowning. “He didn’t tell you that?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I wasn’t told a huge chunk of family history.”

  He nods in understanding. “Right. Well, Sadie and I had been talking, but she ended up choosing my brother. I never told him I was into her, and I expected my feelings to go away. I mean, I was sixteen, so how tough could that be? But they didn’t go away, since it became a game of wanting what I couldn’t have—forbidden fruit and all that. Then one night they had a nasty fight, broke up, and she came to me.”

  He groans like he hates thinking back to it.

  “I was almost seventeen at the time. She came to me, and I was an idiot kid who thought the girl of his dreams was finally choosing him. I wanted to talk to Benson first, but…did I mention I was seventeen? She came to me in lingerie, and I was a goner. So I did the unthinkable, certain they were over and I wasn’t hurting anyone.”

  I lower the Daisy another inch.

  “The next day, she went back to him, and I was wracked with guilt when he came to confide in me about how he was worried he almost lost her. I said nothing. And the next time they fought, I said nothing when she came to me. Or the next time. Or the next time. It wasn’t until she pulled that stunt by claiming me as the father just to hurt Benson, that I realized she never cared about me at all. In fact, I was just a tool she used against him. Funny thing is, neither of us really loved her. We were just young and stupid, unaware that love isn’t real unless it’s reciprocated. We both just wanted the unobtainable.”

  I keep aiming the gun at him, but my finger is no longer on the trigger.

  “She and Benson had been dating for a few months when Mom and John announced they were engaged. They’d only met because John insisted on meeting Sadie’s boyfriend’s parents. And since
our Dad left us when we were younger, it was just Mom for him to meet. John’s wife died when Sadie was two, and he’d been alone since then. Mom had been alone… In short, our family history got really complicated really fast.”

  “Benson said it was complicated,” I mumble, looking down at the ground. “But that doesn’t change the fact he didn’t want me over there this week, and all along, the woman he gave a ring to was in his house, freshly divorced.”

  Yeah, I certainly didn’t forget that tidbit that Benson shared. Talk about acid on an already burning wound.

  “Sadie is the type of woman to never love a guy. She’s always going to want them on the hook though. Benson and I are both older and wiser to her game nowadays. I can assure you that he never intended for anything at all to happen between them,” he tells me.

  I eye him like I’m suspicious of him, and he shrugs.

  “Why’d he send you? Of all people?”

  “No one else was brave enough to deal with your brothers, apparently.”

  I almost laugh. Almost.

  “And I really want to make amends with my brother. It’s been nine years. I miss him,” he adds.

  I couldn’t imagine going nine years without my brothers. They’d kill someone if I was out of their lives for more than a few weeks. They had to visit me almost every other weekend when I was living in Seattle.

  I think half the establishments there still have a poster of their faces to warn employees to never let them in again.

  “What’s your last name?” I ask.

  “Calbert,” he says reflexively, then slaps a hand over his mouth as though he didn’t mean to say that.

  I grin, knowing Benson must have told him not to tell me.

  “Shit,” he groans. “Don’t tell him I told you. Does that mean you’re considering forgiving him? Because really, this is all just one massive, slightly confusing, certainly understandable, misunderstanding.”

  I hear the sound of a Jeep pulling up behind my house, and a small smirk forms on my lips.

  “I’ll consider it. But he’s probably going to have to work harder than this. I mean, it’s not very manly to send his brother over because he’s scared of my brothers.”

  He rolls his eyes.

  “He’s not scared of them; he just knew they’d make it impossible to speak to you. He knew they’d be keeping an eye on him. So he went into town, and then got your friend to draw them out. She’s under the impression you’re denying your feelings.”

  I don’t tell him how much I already miss my best friend/boyfriend. His groveling game needs to be a little stronger than this if he really wants me back.

  My smirk grows. “He’s right. My brothers never would have left if he’d been right across the lake. But the problem now is that they just got back. And they’re being really quiet. That’s never good.”

  He looks around, seemingly unconcerned.

  “I’m not really scared of two guys. I mean, I did see them wailing in pain after you finished with them.”

  It’s positively adorable how clueless he is.

  “No one has explained the four corners of the Wild Ones, have they?” I ask, amused.

  He shakes his head slowly.

  “The what?” he asks.

  “First rule of family: brothers don’t hit sisters. They take their beatings, because sisters only beat them when they deserve it.”

  I start backing up, closing the door in the process. “Good luck, Deacon. You’re going to need it. You’re about to learn what the Wild Ones really are.”

  He snorts, still unconcerned, and I listen for the first—

  “Motherfucker!” I hear him roar, seconds before a series of loud pops ring out.

  Then the whistle of a firework sounds as a scream pierces the air. I glance out the window to see Deacon running with his ass on fire, leaping into the lake on purpose as more fireworks shoot off in his direction.

  I laugh to myself, knowing he deserves at least that much, even though I should probably thank him.

  I guess Benson forgot to warn him my brother’s don’t always fight fair.

  Eh. What the hell.

  He’ll survive.

  Chapter 21

  Wild Ones Tip #100

  Don’t try to understand why we are the way we are.

  You’ll just get a headache and no answers.

  BENSON

  “Explain the Wild Ones to me,” my brother says, hissing out a breath as he slides on a pair of pants.

  I have to give it to him; he still wants to help me even after the brothers shot fireworks at him and lit his ass on fire with a homemade blow torch. He had to jump in that cold water to keep from getting seriously injured. As it is, it just left him with a little burn no worse than sunburn.

  “At a metaphorical four corners of the lake, you have a different family representing a Wild family. Wild Ones are not allowed to date each other. They’re not allowed to all be in one place at one time. At most, only two Wild One families can be in the same place at the same time. Never more. With the exception of certain circumstances.”

  His eyebrows are at his hairline.

  “And this is normal to you?” he asks dubiously.

  I smirk. “You grow used to it. The Vincents—Lilah included—are part of the Wild Ones. This is their corner. The Vincent brothers, as you’ve learned, can be ruthless. Usually they’re harmless and only destructive to inanimate objects. Unless you piss them off.”

  “And the cops do nothing?”

  “There’s one cop. There’re a lot of Wild Ones. Unless someone presses charges, there’s no reason for police. And no one is stupid enough to press charges against anyone, because all the Wild Ones will come after you until they drive you out of town. The Vincents were the youngest addition. Lilah’s father and mother made their name notorious, and the brothers and Lilah expanded on that.”

  He shakes his head, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “You sound like you’re proud of this.”

  My smile grows. “Lilah has both of them under her thumb, even though she likes to act like she doesn’t. She knows, without a doubt, that if she told them to kill someone, they’d simply ask her where she wanted them to hide the body. So yeah, I’m proud to be with her, because she’s tough but never acts like she runs this town. None of the Wild Ones do. They simply defend their own and mind their business, for the most part, when they’re not bored and looking for a good time.”

  He groans as he shifts.

  “Their business was burning my ass. I could have been seriously injured.”

  “If they thought you were too stupid to jump in the lake, they would have found another way to scare the shit out of you. They’ve tested all this stuff on each other—the brothers, not Lilah—before they use it on other people. It’s ‘fun’ to them to test these things. They knew, down to the second, how long your ass could be on fire before it burned through your clothes or spread.

  “That’s just…insane.”

  I look out, seeing the flag flying high, taunting me. Lilah’s at home. So close, yet so far away.

  I bet her brothers are camouflaged and armed with pipe bombs right now. I have no choice but to take extreme measures.

  “That’s Tomahawk,” I say, smiling tightly with a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

  “And you’ve lived like this for nine years and we never knew when we came to visit,” he says on a sigh.

  “It only gets really crazy in the winters. During the summer, people seem to entertain themselves better. During the winter, the Wild Ones get restless.”

  He moves to the window, eyeing her flag as well.

  “Does it make me a masochist that I want to see it in the winter now?” he asks seriously.

  I’m not sure what’s happening here, but I actually feel a little bit like I have a brother again. Not like before, but maybe one day.

  I never thought that bridge could be repaired.

  “That’s Tomahawk. It draws you in wit
h its craziness, and once you start rolling with it, you find it impossible to leave.”

  “Speaking of leaving, doesn’t she know that’s dangerous? To fly a flag when she’s home and lower it when she’s not? People always know her movements.”

  I snort, then double over and outright laugh.

  “What?” he asks, confused.

  “Her brothers set your ass on fire, and they knew you weren’t a physical threat,” I say around my laughter. “What the hell do you think would happen to an intruder?”

  He pauses like he’s thinking about it.

  “If anyone ever tried to hurt one Wild One, all the Wild Ones would break the cardinal rule by coming together and joining forces, and hell would rain down on whatever idiot thought it was a good idea to break in or worse. And that’s only if they survived the original Wild One. There’s not a soul for a hundred miles who doesn’t know this. It’s why Tomahawk is the safest place to visit.”

  He massages his temples. “I feel like I’ve landed in another universe.”

  “No. Just a small lake town that literally has nothing much else to do but entertain itself. Born and raised in the wilderness makes you…different. Hell, living here for nine years has changed me.”

  He studies me for a moment. “I can tell. You seem to really be happy.”

  My eyes flick back to that damn flag.

  “I will be happy. As soon as my water cannon gets here.”

  “Water cannon?” he asks, his voice going up an octave.

  “There’s only one way to win back the heart of a Wild One. You have to prove you’re crazy enough to deserve it,” I explain.

  “But a water cannon? What the hell, man?”

  “You still with me? I won’t be able to execute the next part of my plan alone.”

  He sighs harshly. “Hell, might as well. Just tell me your next plan won’t set my ass on fire.”

  “Nah. But just abandon ship if they manage to almost blow us up.”

  He pales as I walk over and grab my phone. I have some people to call.

  “You’re kidding, right?” he asks.