by Amanda Perry
“What in the holy hell is going on?” The sound of my voice draws the attention of Taylor and a half-naked Syn.
I’ve known Syn for a long time. We met back in elementary school, and we’ve been like brothers ever since. He’s a flirt, he’s a goof-off, and he loves to have fun and make people laugh.
But Syn is also known for getting himself into awkward situations. When we were in our freshman year of high school, he managed to break into the local petting zoo and steal an ostrich. He claims he didn’t mean to do it. He said he only wanted to see what the animals did when no one was around. Apparently, this particular ostrich seemed overly lonely, and Syn felt the need to bring him home. His mother almost had a heart attack. She called us to get the thing out of her house and back to the petting zoo before anyone knew it was missing. Allistar was out with Marak and me that night, so he got roped into helping. Marak, Syn, and I met Allistar a few months prior, and it was his first true Syn experience. He’s been by our side ever since.
The scene currently in front of me is a typical Syn experience, but no less shocking to walk in on. Syn, with only a pair of boxers on, lies face down on Taylor’s bed. The boxers may as well be gone because they’ve been pulled down, his ass in plain view.
While Syn shows his backside to the whole fucking world, Taylor straddles his thighs, leaning over his ass with a pair of tweezers in one hand and a blood-soaked wash rag in the other. Her big, round hazel eyes are almost comical as she looks up at the three of us, then back to Syn’s ass.
Marak must be thinking the same thing I am because he snorts, coughs, then gives up disguising his laughter. He points at Taylor and Syn, shaking his head as his entire body vibrates.
Taylor narrows her eyes in Marak’s direction, but the dumb ass is too busy holding his stomach and howling with laughter to notice. Syn sends a cheeky grin my way, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. My eyes turn to the ceiling, praying for the strength needed to refrain from smacking Syn upside his head.
“Relax, guys,” Syn huffs, pushing himself up to allow his elbows to hold his upper body off the bed. Having clearly not expected the move, the tweezers slip from Taylor’s fingers as she drops her hands dangerously low on Syn’s back to prevent herself from falling. Syn ignores the smack Taylor lands on his side as he addresses us, “She shot me, so I told her it’s her responsibility to fix me.”
“You shot him?” Allistar chokes, and it sounds like he’s desperate to smother his amusement.
Taylor rolls off Syn, flops onto her back beside him, and covers her eyes with her arm. “Someone just kill me now.”
“You already tried to kill me today, let’s not start a trend,” Syn jokes.
Marak rolls his eyes heavily. “I doubt she tried to kill you, but let’s put the attempted murder aside and figure out why you haven’t covered your ass yet.”
“Or better still, why is your ass on display in the first place?” Allistar adds.
Syn pulls his boxers over his ass and pushes himself into a sitting position. “I wanted to check on Taylor. She decided to try and kill me.” He bypasses the indecent exposure question altogether.
Taylor uncovers her eyes, rolling her head toward us and letting out a dramatic sigh. Her chest pushes out on the inhale, and my eyes go straight to it. In her tight little tank top, it’s hard to look away.
Her shouting is the only reason I’m able to bring myself out of a visual of Taylor without the top. “Oh my god, you’re such a damn baby! I did not try to kill you, Syn.”
“Okay, then if you weren’t trying to kill me, what were you trying to do?” Syn counters, spinning to face Taylor.
Taylor bolts up, moving closer to Syn. Her brow furrows, and her eyes narrow. Her cheeks turn red, and if I was Syn, I’d be a bit worried about the angry little kitten. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was supposed to be okay with people sneaking around my back porch, breaking my damn flower pots, and scaring the holy hell out of me. All while I have some psychopathic freak on the loose who wants me as a sex toy and not the good kind.”
Marak and Syn sputter and choke. Allistar drops his head forward, mumbling curse words under his breath. The only thing I can think about now is Taylor and sex. She’d probably slap me if she ever knew the shit I like to do in the bedroom. After what she went through, I’d never consider touching her anyway, not how I want to. Even though she may not have been abused sexually, the potential was real, and she’s probably ready to swear off men for the next twenty or so years.
Allistar clears his throat, gaining the attention of everyone. He focuses on Syn and raises a brow. “Why’d you break her flower pot?”
Leave it to Allistar to pick up on the least important part of this entire fucking situation. Taylor must be as exasperated as I am because she simply growls while Syn answers Allistar, “It was an accident, but it’s not like the plants were alive, anyway. I think I did them a favor by putting them out of their misery.”
“I resent that!” Taylor shouts, pushing Syn’s shoulder. “How do you know that flower pot didn’t belong to my great-great-great-great-grandmother or some crap like that?”
Syn scratches the back of his head, grinning slightly. “Because it had a department store sticker on it and looked almost brand-new.”
“You’re inspecting my crap while you snoop around outside my apartment?” Taylor asks. “Gosh, your social skills are off the charts.”
“At least I don’t shoot my guests in the ass and leg with a pellet gun!” Syn counters, hopping to his feet and pointing to the piece of taped gauze on his thigh. “This is going to scar, you know.”
“I’m only sorry I didn’t aim higher,” Taylor growls. Her eyes dart to his crotch then back to his eyes.
Syn takes a quick step back, grabs his jeans from the floor, and pulls them on quickly. “You’re vicious, woman.”
“Okay, enough you two.” My tone brings their banter to a halt.
Taylor pouts at me, and Syn finishes dressing himself. I know what Syn is going to say before he even opens his mouth. “She started it.”
“Why the fuck were you sneaking around her place, Syn?” Marak asks. He probably knows I was considering punching Syn and wanted to save him from it. “You had to know that was a dumb idea.”
Syn has the decency to look a little guilty. “I didn’t want to bother her. I was only going to check on her and head home. Had she not put the flower pot in the worst spot, I’d have been able to. But, I got shot instead.” He turns back to Taylor, who now has the tweezers and cloth in her hands while she heads for the doorway. “By the way, your aim is horrible.”
“Kiss my ass,” she calls back over her shoulder.
“Bend over, baby,” he shouts to ensure she hears him.
That same line has earned Syn more than one slap across the face, but Taylor simply giggles as she continues to walk down the hall. A girl with a sense of humor. Not at all something I’m used to.
The guys and I have our fun, we date, we take the edge off with some girl or another on occasion. But with work being so prominent and most women we meet demanding our full attention, we never have time to juggle both.
A few weeks back, Syn mentioned being sick of fucking around lately, and I agreed with him. Marak and Allistar are far from virginal, but they’ve never been into random hookups. Maybe in our early twenties and while in the military it was fine, but with me and Allistar being twenty-nine and Syn and Marak being twenty-eight, we don’t have the patience for bullshit anymore.
While I watch Taylor’s ass sway back and forth down the hall, I can’t help but wonder if she’d be demanding and full of bullshit. Somehow, I doubt it.
10
Taylor
Leave it to me to get caught in such a crazy position with Syn. I shouldn’t feel guilty for shooting him with the pellet gun. In fact, he deserved more than two hits for scaring the bejesus out of me. Thank the lord Syn is trained in medical crap because there’s no way I could have dealt with that myself. He
told me exactly what to do and how to do it.
All I did was follow his directions. Not as easy as it sounds with a sexy man between my legs, but I managed. The man has a body made for sex. My thighs clench together when I remember straddling his nearly naked body. Every smooth line and muscle bunched as I pulled the two pellets from his leg and ass.
A giggle bubbles up when I think of the girly squeal he let out as I took the pellet from his firm backside. Allistar, Marak, and Maverick ran in with their guns drawn and made the whole awkward situation even more awkward. The look of shock from the three of them when they found Syn and me is something I’ll never forget.
The buzzing of my phone on the dining room table interrupts my musing. I dropped it when I went after Syn and never picked it back up. He was bleeding, and I was semi-worried about the wimp. Scooping my phone up, I throw the bloody cloth in the trash and the tweezers by the sink for sanitizing. Syn probably doesn’t have cooties, but why risk it?
Whoever called isn’t in my contacts, and the call ends before I can answer. While I pull a Diet Coke from the fridge and debate whether to call the unknown number back, the phone buzzes again. The same number pops up, and I slide my thumb across the screen to answer it.
“Hello?”
No response.
“Hello?” I repeat. If it’s one of those offers for a free cruise and all I have to do is give them my credit card information, I’m going to be pissed.
“Taylor.” The throaty male voice grates at my nerves for some reason. “It’s good to see you.”
My skin prickles in fear. “Who is this?” I turn in a slow circle to subtly check out my windows.
“You may call me master. You’ll want to get used to it now.”
Master? “Who is this? I don’t have time for stupid prank calls from dumb kids. Go bother someone else”.
The man laughs darkly. “You’ll know me a lot better once you come home with me where you belong. I saw you that day, when you tried to run. I knew then you’d be my new toy, and I only needed a bit of time to make the arrangements for your...training. If those idiots weren’t caught, I’d have what’s mine by now, and you would be on your way to becoming a well-trained pet.”
My mind goes blank as fear grips my body. The can of soda in my hand slips, dropping to the floor and exploding all over the cabinets.
The guys race into the kitchen, probably to see what the loud pop was. With the four of them near me again, I’m able to pull myself back to the present. The douchebag on the other end of the line can’t get to me with SWAT and police all over my apartment. When the man’s heavy breathing comes through the phone, I realize I never answered him.
My shock turns quickly to anger. “I won’t call you anything except a sick son of a bitch. How the hell did you get this number?”
Marak raises a brow, mouthing, “Who is it?”
I wave him off, not sure what to say. It isn’t like the guy gave me his name, address, and social security number. Marak frowns, and Syn scowls. I scowl back but get distracted when the man talks again.
“My, my, my, we are going to need to teach you some respect for your owner.” He sighs heavily, and my nose wrinkles with disgust. “I really think we will have so much fun teaching you how to be a good little bitch. Don’t you, Taylor?”
My nerves must show on my face because the second I turn to face the guys again, Maverick grabs for my phone. A quick smack has both his jaw and hand dropping at the same time. Syn and Marak point at Maverick and giggle like little girls. Allistar looks to the sky, clearly exasperated. Allistar puts a hand on Maverick’s shoulder when he takes a step toward me, his focus completely on my phone. He may be stronger, but I’d have no qualms jabbing him in the junk if he tried to take my phone again.
The prick called me, not them, and I’m going to make sure he knows he’s messing with the wrong girl. “Listen here, you shit spitter. You’ve got half of the state’s law enforcement looking for you, and they’re all on my side. Either you’re bluffing, or you’re stupider than you look.”
“Put the fucking phone on speaker.” Maverick’s angry whisper distracts me, but I do as he asks with a heavy roll of my eyes.
Allistar cringes, shooting me an apologetic look for his friend. His whisper is much softer, “He means, please.”
A menacing growl sounds, pulling our attention back to the phone. “Now, it’s your turn to listen, bitch. I own you, you are mine, and I always get what’s mine. The cops haven’t caught me, and they never will. I’m always one step ahead. They’re not nearly as smart as I am, and I have quite a lot of people on my side as well.”
“I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this at a level you’ll understand. You’ve got no way to get to me. You’ve gone from hunter to hunted. Maybe if you give yourself up, they won’t kill you. No promises from me, though.”
The guys look incredulous, but I’m too pissed to be afraid of this idiot. “I have a very good way to get to you, Taylor. A few of them actually.”
The sureness in his tone has my stomach dropping, and the bravado I had moments ago dwindles. “Like what?”
“Like those two friends of yours, Evelyn Porter and Michelle Christie, or her husband, Dylan. Perhaps your grandfather? You call him Grumpy, I believe.” Shit. How does he know about them? What would he do to them in order to get to me? “Think about what’s more important to you. The safety of your family and friends or your safety. I can guarantee I’ll let you live, but I won’t make promises for them or anyone else who may stand in my way. I’ll be in touch.”
The line goes dead as the first tear drops from my eye, followed by a flood of hundreds more. Allistar takes the phone from me, handing it off to Marak, before he scoops me into his arms. He doesn’t say anything at first, no one does.
Allistar eventually carries me to my couch. He sits down, then situates me sideways on his lap with his arms still protectively around me. The comfort his embrace brings me is something I don’t have the time or energy to think about. His arms firmly holding me ease the shakes that always come when I get upset.
Hushed voices from the other side of the room catch my attention, and I look up to find Syn and Maverick with their heads bent together. Maverick has a phone in his hands, but it isn’t mine. With a quick scan of the room, I find Marak on the opposite end of the couch, my phone in one hand and a different phone in the other.
He glances toward me, his eyes softening. “I’m having some people track the number that called you, Red. I promise I’m not going through your pictures or anything.”
His teasing earns him an unladylike snort. “All you’d find are a bunch of memes and pictures of me and the girls.”
Marak wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “You and the girls, huh?”
Kicking my foot out at his thigh, I gain some satisfaction when he grunts upon impact. He mock glares at me, even as his lips twitch with hidden amusement. “I’ll get you back for that, Red.”
“Yeah, I’m really afraid of you.” My tone drips with sarcasm as I sniffle back a few tears.
“Okay, children,” Maverick calls out, effectively putting a stop to the staring contest between me and Marak. “Grumpy is on his way over. Evelyn, Michelle, and Dylan are, apparently, out of town with their families.”
Allistar shifts slightly and nods at Maverick. His small movement reminds me of my position on his lap, and I wonder if he does this for all the girls they help. No one seems to find his form of comfort odd, so I remain silent in his lap. “So that’s three people we don’t need to worry about.”
A thought occurs to me suddenly, and I turn back to Maverick. “How’d you find out the girls are out of town?”
“We managed to get their numbers before you were discharged from the hospital. We wanted them to be able to contact us in case anything happened,” Marak answers instead, but Maverick nods a confirmation.
The logic behind their excuse is sound, but my bitchy side rears its ugly head. I want to yel
l at them for asking for my best friends’ phone numbers. There’s no good reason for me to be upset; the four of them reserve the right to ask anyone for a phone number. Michelle probably gave hers up easily because she worries too much. Evelyn probably gave hers for a completely different reason. She is like my sister—I love her to death and I always will—but the woman has seen more action than a ten-dollar hooker on payday. If she wasn’t the one who said those exact words to me and Michelle last time we talked about our sex lives, I would probably be labeled a terrible friend. Since she said it first, though, I’m allowed to simply agree. At least that’s how she said it works.
It isn’t as if I have a claim on any of the guys. They probably have girlfriends or wives somewhere. Hell, Evelyn would be a catch for any of them, and if they don’t see that, then they’re idiots. But the jealousy simmers anyway. What if one of them texts Evelyn for a date? Would it be horrible of me to be upset over it? Saying it out loud would never happen, but I hate that the thought even popped into my head.
“Shit.” Marak drops his phone onto the coffee table harder than necessary and sets mine, only slightly softer, next to it. Everyone turns to him, my confusion and frustration pushed to the side for now. “The number was from a burner. There’s no way to trace the call.”
Before anyone can respond to Marak, a hard knock sounds from the front door, scaring the holy hell out of me and putting all the guys on edge. It only takes me a second to come to my senses and get up to answer the door. “Guys, a psychotic douchebag isn’t going to knock on the damn door and ask me if I’d like to go for a stroll. Come on, isn’t this your job?”
“We’re being cautious, brat.” Syn takes my hand before I make it to the door, tugging me back a few steps to his side. Allistar stands from the couch to take my place and answer the door. “We aren’t about to deliver you on a golden platter to the guy.”