Original Cin: A Raptors MC Novel

by Elle Rease

  Clearing his throat, he shifted to lean against the headboard. “Cin, I’ve seen the two of you together. You have a bond that excludes me, because of what you’ve survived. He connects with you on a level I can’t.” He sighed, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “I can’t hate him for it, even though I wish you didn’t have that intimacy. You’re friends, and I’ve accepted that.”

  She blinked at her husband. Was she dreaming? As discreetly as possible, she pinched her knee, wincing at the sting her long nails caused.

  “That being said, I think it’ll be good that he moves out, for all of us. He needs to find his own place in the world, and I need my wife back.”

  “For a second there, I was worried that you’d lost the real Brennan.”

  Chuckling softly, he shook his head. “He’s still in here, lass.”

  “Bren, I choose you,” she murmured. “I’ve always chosen you. Well, except for that time when I wanted to kill you.”

  His laugh got louder. He was so sexy. She realized, in this moment, how incredibly lucky she was to have met and married him. The Brennan of a year ago would’ve fucked the notion of her being attracted to someone else out of her, but after everything that’s happened since, he’s become more thoughtful and tolerant.

  “Softie,” she winked.

  “That’s ’cause I love you,” he shrugged.

  “I love you, too.” She moved off the bed and walked to the bathroom. “Join me?”

  He followed her into the shower and, with whispered endearments, they cleaned each other. She got dressed afterwards, and brushed her damp hair out. “What’re you doing for my birthday?” she asked when he joined her in the walk-in closet.

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Bren, you know I hate surprises.”

  “Tough shit.”

  “Are we going somewhere? Do I have to pack anything?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Lass, have you met me? I plan everything.”

  “True,” she muttered, sighing deeply. “I’ll stop pestering you about it.”

  “Hallelujah!”

  She punched him in the stomach, annoyed when this merely caused him to double over with laughter. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Careful, or you won’t get to fuck my ass again.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

  “Exactly, so play nice.” Standing on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you later, babe.”

  “Good luck getting psychoanalyzed!” he called after her.

  She bit her bottom lip to stop from smiling, rushing down the stairs. If she arrived early enough at Dr. McKauley’s practice, she’ll probably get a thirty-minute session out of it. That’ll have to do to clear her mind, or she was in more trouble than she estimated.

  She was so deep in thought, she collided with Byron on the ground floor, causing one of his boxes to crash to the floor. “Shit, I’m so sorry!”

  “It’s okay, Cin,” he smiled. “Luckily, that’s just clothes.”

  Falling silent, she found it eerie being around him after that filthy dream she’d had. He was completely oblivious, and that was a good thing. She didn’t want to burden him with her stupid emotions, not when he was making a genuine effort with Zoey.

  And never mind the fact that she was married to Brennan…

  “Is everything okay?” he asked, the smile vanishing.

  “Yeah, yeah, of course,” she lied as she stepped towards the front door. “I’m just heading to the shrink.”

  A slight frown brought his dark eyebrows together. “Is me moving out that big of a deal for you?”

  “That doesn’t matter, By. You’re doing this for you.”

  “But if it’s causing you so much—”

  “You’re going,” she interrupted firmly. “I didn’t buy you all that furniture only to have it stored away, where no one can see or use it.”

  He nodded absently. “That was way too excessive, by the way.”

  “So, sue me,” she joked, lifting a shoulder in nonchalance. “You love all of it.”

  “That’s true. I’ll pay you back.”

  “Byron, we’ve been through this.” She grabbed the SUV’s keys from the hook and opened the front door. “If you say that one more time, I’ll never speak to you again.”

  His amusement was clear by the way his eyes sparkled. “Good luck pretending that I don’t exist, Cin. You’re stuck with me for life, remember?”

  When her heart skipped a beat at hearing those words, she knew it would be best for her to leave. “Mind that ego,” she teased as she shut the door. Then, mind racing over this sticky predicament, she hurried to the car, got onto the driver’s seat and ignited the engine.

  You’ve got this.

  With so many aspects of her life being beyond her control, she often doubted her ability to traverse the mental minefield she’d set up as a coping mechanism. She constantly felt like she was on the verge of exploding. Hopefully, she’ll regain her sense of self once this thing with Byron was laid to rest.

  The receptionist was busy unlocking the entrance of the practice when Cinnia arrived. Parking the SUV, Cinnia jumped out and waved at the woman, who smiled in response and opened the door.

  “Mrs. Drummond,” she greeted, “I don’t remember you having an appointment today?”

  “I was hoping I could have a quick word with Dr. McKauley. It’s urgent.”

  “Sure, she just got here. I’ll find out if she has a few minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cinnia paced the length of the waiting area, getting more wound up by the second. The breathing exercises weren’t helping anymore, especially when she recalled how rough her and Brennan’s lovemaking had been this morning. God, had she really forced herself on him?

  He was a willing participant, Cin.

  Sure, once he’d been conscious. It didn’t excuse her behavior before that…

  “Mrs. Drummond? Dr. McKauley will see you now.”

  “Th-thanks,” Cinnia stuttered, fighting for composure. She walked down the hallway, stopping in front of the last door. Shaking her hands out to get rid of some nerves, she crossed the threshold and shut them in the room. “Good morning, doctor.”

  “Cinnia,” Dr. McKauley smiled, motioning to the couch. “Please, take a seat.”

  She obeyed. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

  “It must be important. Usually, you wait until your own appointment.”

  “Yeah,” Cinnia said, laughing nervously. “I just… I feel like I’m going crazy.”

  “Has something happened?” the psychiatrist quizzed, reaching for her notepad.

  “Well…” She suddenly didn’t know where to begin. She crossed one leg over the other, twirling her ankle while she strung a sentence together. “Byron’s moving out today.”

  Dr. McKauley’s eyebrow shot up. “Oh? How so?”

  “He’s started working as an intern at a law firm,” she began, careful to keep the emotion out of her tone. “His law books were delivered a month ago, too, so he’s been focusing on that. Oh, and then there’s Zoey, his girlfriend…” She trailed off, her mouth going dry at the mere mention of that girl’s name. She still hasn’t figured out why she didn’t like Zoey. “I’m sure they’d like more privacy.”

  “Is there a reason you don’t want him to go?”

  “I mean, this is Byron we’re talking about,” Cinnia responded, as if that explained everything.

  “Yes, one of your best friends and the boy who saved you from rape and death.”

  “I…” God, she was having trouble finding the right words! It’s like she couldn’t navigate the English language, as if it wasn’t her native tongue. “I dreamt I was dancing with him, and then Brennan showed up and I danced with him… And, next thing I knew, I was dancing with both of them.”

  Dr. McKauley inclined her head. “Start from the beginning.”

  Cinnia indulged her shrink, eager to get rid of all this tension by whatever mean
s necessary. Her voice faltered halfway through, and she uncrossed her legs, hoping to alleviate the sexual energy taking control of her again. She’s had four orgasms today, so why was she still turned on?

  “It’s quite normal to transfer feelings for a partner to the person one has survived a traumatic experience with,” Dr. McKauley assured Cinnia. “I agree with Brennan: distance between you and Byron will give you a clearer perspective on your friendship. The two of you are very close and I imagine it’s easy to feel safe with him when you know he’ll do anything to protect you.”

  Cinnia grabbed a tissue from the side table and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m afraid that we’ll somehow lose our bond now that he’s leaving, though. It’s very comforting, having such a close male friend.”

  “From the sound of things, you would like to be more than friends. It’s unfair to keep him around for selfish reasons.”

  “He doesn’t know how I feel.”

  “That might be true, but he’s much more aware than other men I’ve come across. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s able to pick up on your feelings.”

  Cinnia bit her bottom lip. “I should let him go, then.”

  “It doesn’t have to be as final as that, Cinnia, but I think it’s clear that you need time away from each other. It can only improve your relationship in a way that benefits you both, without hurting people like Brennan and Zoey in the process.”

  Reluctantly, Cinnia acknowledged that Dr. McKauley had a point. “What do you think the dream meant?”

  “I think that’s fairly obvious,” the doctor answered, chuckling. She consulted her notes. “Byron kept asking you why he was there. That, along with ‘this isn’t real’, is a clear indication that your subconscious knows he doesn’t belong in such an intimate setting. Sometimes, though, our dreams are the perfect way to play out our fantasies. I think it was a combination of all of this.”

  “That makes sense. Thank you, doctor.”

  “We can continue this discussion when I see you next week. I need to get back to my other patients.”

  “Yes, of course.” Cinnia rose to her feet, smiling at her shrink. “Thanks again for seeing me today. I feel much better.”

  “Cinnia?”

  With one hand reaching for the door handle, Cinnia gazed at the woman.

  “I wouldn’t cross the possibility that you have more than a simple attraction for Byron off your list just yet, either.” Dr. McKauley was deadly serious, her hands on her lap while she maintained eye contact. “At some point, you’ll have to make a choice.”

  Swallowing thickly, Cinnia nodded and left. She kept hearing that final sentence ringing in her ears, forming a part of the rhythm of her feet hitting the floor. She absently said goodbye to the receptionist. She couldn’t get in her car fast enough.

  She turned the radio’s volume all the way up to flush her conflicting thoughts out. It wasn’t really working. For a minute, she leaned her head against the seat, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She couldn’t keep driving herself crazy like this.

  “…you’ll have to make a choice.”

  She’s made it so clear that she would always choose Brennan. Why was she second-guessing that decision? Was this something most newlyweds experienced, or a by-product of her attack? Or, even worse, was she falling in love with Byron?

  “No!” she exclaimed, slamming her hands on the steering wheel. She has loved Brennan from age eight, until this present moment. That would never change. That’s why she married him, for God’s sake!

  Sitting here isn’t going to solve anything, that voice prompted. Stop thinking about this and go home, in that order.

  She turned the key and backed out of the parking spot. Lowering the volume, she tapped her fingers to the drum beat of the sweet ballad playing in the background. Gradually, she lost the anxiety she’s been carrying for the last couple of weeks. In fact, if she had to think about it, all of this had started the night when Dawn had announced her second pregnancy.

  Somehow, Byron always knew when she was upset, and why. He possessed the kind of insight to her state of being that was unparalleled compared to her friends, family and husband. That didn’t mean that she was supposed to be with him, though. She felt silly for entertaining the notion until now.

  Her mood lifted and she cracked a smile. “Exactly, Cin,” she mumbled. “You love Byron, but not like that. It’s time to move on.”

  She had a spark in her attitude by the time she got home. She reversed into the driveway, knowing that they were going to use the car for some of Byron’s stuff, and headed inside. The two men were exchanging theories on who was going to win the upcoming European Football League, a familiar and welcome sound.

  “Hey, boys,” she greeted. They glanced up in unison, reminding her of how synchronous they’d been in the dream. Why was that such a turn-on? “Are you almost done?”

  “Just about,” Brennan replied. “How was your session?”

  “Helpful,” she smiled.

  “Good.” He walked over and kissed her forehead. “I’m gonna start loading the car.”

  When she was alone with Byron, she placed her hands on her hips and looked at the rest of the boxes. “Is there anything I can help with?”

  “Nah, I’ve got this,” he responded as he closed one up. He went on his hunches and gazed at her from the corner. “You’ve been acting really strange lately. Is everything okay?”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I’m fine.”

  “Cin, I think we’ve already determined that you’re not a very good liar.”

  “Well, there is this one thing…” She pretended to think. “I can’t have a baby.”

  He shook his head and lifted a box up. “Fair enough. You don’t have to tell me.”

  Her heart ached at his dismissive tone. She reached to grab his shirt before he could leave the room. “By, this isn’t easy for me, okay? I don’t want you to go, even though I get why you are. I like having you around.”

  “I’ll still be around, Cin.” One corner of his mouth tilted up. “You and Bren happen to be my two favorite people.”

  That comment warmed her, from her head to her toes. “I’m glad.”

  “You’ve always believed in me. If not for that, I never would’ve been where I am now.”

  “I’m very proud of you, By. You’re…” She trailed off, feeling awkward. Her cheeks were on fire. “You’re one of my favorite people, too.”

  He nodded and looked away, smiling broadly. “That’s good to know.”

  She watched him disappear and let out the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. Brennan crossed the threshold, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. He peered at her with a grin.

  “I heard all of that,” he informed her unnecessarily.

  “I figured you would. You’re way too curious for your own good.”

  “Only when it comes to you.” He ran his fingers through his long hair. “It feels great to know you still choose me.”

  “Every day,” she reminded him. “That’s kind of how this marriage-thing works.”

  “It’s been nearly twenty years since I first laid eyes on you.” He sauntered over and tugged her into his arms. “You’re still just as beautiful.”

  She pressed her lips to his. “And you’re still as charming.”

  “Sorry to break this up, lovebirds,” Byron announced as he joined them. “I’d like to get my stuff outta here. Any assistance will be greatly appreciated.”

  Together, the three of them cleared the guest bedroom, taking the remainder of Byron’s belongings to the car. A truck had delivered his new furniture to his apartment the day before, and he only had a few things that still needed to be taken there.

  They’d all decided to put leave in for today, since Byron had a housewarming party tomorrow and wanted everything ready by then. That way, all his guests could recover on Sunday before going back to work on Monday.

  Cinnia admired the way he’s adapted his
lifestyle since she’s known him. When they’d met at the tattoo expo, he had been eager to get patched in, although he hadn’t quite believed that he belonged. Then, after her attack, he had fallen into substance abuse in order to forget, acting worse than other rebelling teenagers in a shorter period of time. He had committed to sorting his life out, though, which she commended him for.

  And finally, he was a part of the Raptors brotherhood with a bright future ahead of him, both personally and professionally. She was often in awe of his maturity, especially when she compared the nineteen-year-old version of herself with Byron. She instinctively knew that he was going to be very successful.

  Byron rode up front with Brennan, and she absently listened to their banter. Brennan has—much like Ryan—taken the young man under his wing and, by extension, his protection. This was largely driven by Brennan’s continued gratitude for Byron’s heroic act the night of the bachelorette party.

  Her train of thought took an unexpected turn, wondering what would happen to the men’s friendship if Byron somehow returned her feelings. Yesterday, she’d have had no doubt that Brennan would kill the poor guy but, after their conversation this morning, she wasn’t so sure anymore. Would they work out a schedule, such as Byron having her from Mondays to Wednesdays, while Brennan took her the rest of the week?

  Byron was bisexual, though, which meant that—in her head, at least—they could please her together, like in the dream…

  Wow, she thought, feeling her face flush at the fantasy. What was the matter with her? It seemed that, despite being one hundred percent sure about Brennan, it was going to take time to shake her irrational hormones around Byron.

  Everyone was right: this separation could only improve the situation.

  “Are you going to ask Zoey to move in with you?”

  Cinnia hoped she wasn’t showing how eager she was to hear the answer to Brennan’s question. She tucked her hair behind her ears and stared out the window, mostly to distract herself.

  “I’d like to.” Byron shrugged, gaze riveted on the newly developed apartment block up ahead. “She’s very religious and conservative, though.”