Finding Serenity

by Amanda Perry

“I don’t know,” I shrug, a grin tugging at my lips, “I guess we’ll find out when you four eat. It’s called mystery burgers. Do they or don’t they have poison in them?”

  Maverick swallows audibly from his stool at the bar. “I think there’s cereal in the pantry. I’ll probably just have that.”

  The guys laugh at his nervousness, but he appears genuinely worried until he takes the smallest bite I’ve ever witnessed one of these four grown men take. His gaze darts to me, and he glares. “You tricked us.”

  “How?” I chuckle. “It’s not poisoned, Mav. I was joking.”

  “Not that,” he grumbles around a massive bite which is more like what I’m used to seeing with them. They generally inhale their food; they don’t simply eat it. It amazes me they can taste anything.

  He swallows before finishing his explanation. “You can cook, and this whole time we’ve been doing all the cooking. You could have been making us dinners and shit.”

  “Not happening, buddy.” I shake my head while I rub some oil on the newly scrubbed cast iron pan. “You four are more than capable. I’m not about to become your little housewife or whatever.”

  The room stills, and I realize what I’ve said. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, but the mention of being a wife to any of them brings immediate tension. With the excuse of work, I scurry off to the living room and leave them to eat without me. If I didn’t believe Syn would drag me from my room kicking and screaming, I’d hide in there.

  A few days later, Marak stays home with me. Since I started working from home the guys take turns staying with me, and today is Marak’s turn. He asks me to go to lunch with him, and I accept the invite. It’s been too long since I ventured out of the house, and cabin fever has started to settle in. He brings me to his favorite restaurant, Cristiano’s. They boast the best pasta, pizza, and Caesar salad in town. I rave over the salad after only two bites.

  “If you think the salad is good, wait until you have the pizza.” He winks then shoves a piece of cheesy bread into his mouth.

  I scoff, “You’re a dork.”

  “Remember what happened the last time you called me a dork?” Heat creeps into my cheeks and down low in my belly. I remember it well, and if we weren't in a restaurant I’d likely jump him again. By the heat flashing in his eyes, he knows where my thoughts are.

  The waitress saves me from responding. She sets our food down, batting her fake lashes at Marak. Jealousy grips me hard though I reserve no right to feel it. He doesn’t belong to me. None of them do, and my heart breaks at the reminder. Marak doesn’t notice the waitress but knows me well enough to know something upset me.

  He frowns my way. “What’s wrong, Red?”

  With my eyes, I gesture to the waitress who happens to be waiting on a response from him as well. He glances at her expectantly. “What?”

  “I asked for your name, honey,” she purrs, clawing at his arm.

  He wrinkles his nose and pulls his arm away from her. “Excuse us, we’re on a date, and we’d like to be left alone.”

  It’s a toss-up on who’s more shocked, me or the waitress. He called this a date. The waitress stomps off without another word, but all I can do is gape at Marak.

  He does a double take of me and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “What? What’d I do?”

  “You called this a date,” I say like he should already know what he did.

  He clears his throat, takes a long drink of his soda, then finally folds his hands under his chin and gives me his full attention. “This is a date, Red. We’re dating.”

  “But...” If I had any sort of argument, I’d bring it up now. Only, I don’t want to argue with him. I want to date him. I also want to date Maverick, Syn, and Allistar.

  “I know.” He sighs, sitting back in his seat. “It’s complicated right now. The guys and I aren’t stupid, Taylor.” My heart stops. Is this the part where he tells me I need to pick one of them or none of them?

  “We all know what we want, though. At least, I think we do. We just need a little more time to figure shit out on our own before we can figure shit out together. Can you give us some time?” he pleads, reaching out and taking my hand. “With the danger you’re in, we haven’t had a lot of time to talk about other things or think through everything on our own.”

  “I can’t, Marak.” I shake my head, ready to get up and walk out. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “Right now,” he squeezes my hand, “I only want you to agree with me that this is a date and eat your pizza. You haven’t eaten much lately, and it’s not good for you.”

  Taking a deep breath, I give him a decisive nod. My predicament can’t get any worse. “Okay, let’s enjoy our pizza date.”

  His smile lights up his whole face. My own matches his for the rest of lunch. By the time we get in the car, we’re both laughing at a terrible, dirty joke he came up with, carrying two pizza boxes to bring home for the others.

  “Thanks for lunch.” I kiss his cheek, and he winks at me.

  Our conversation lulls, and I use the opportunity to fiddle with the radio. Selena Gomez sings through the speakers, and I bounce around with excitement. “I love this song.”

  Marak laughs as I dance in my seat and serenade him to I love you like a love song. Halfway through the song, his laughter fades, and his eyes dart to the rearview mirror several times in a row. Stopping my personal concert, I glance behind us, but nothing appears suspicious. Marak clearly doesn’t agree. He pushes the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel and scrolls to find Maverick’s number.

  He glances my way nervously. “Red, I need you to sit forward and don’t panic, okay? Can you do that for me?”

  “What’s going on, Marak?” My voice shakes, but I do as he asks and sit stone still in my seat.

  Maverick answers the phone before Marak can reply. “Aren’t you on a date with Taylor? You’re a shitty date if you’re calling me to chat.”

  The fact that Maverick knows me and Marak are on a date and doesn’t sound angry about it at all surprises me. Maybe Maverick decided he doesn’t want me and told Marak he should go for it.

  “We’re being followed.” Three words change my entire train of thought. My issues with the guys, dates, how they feel about me... all of it drops to the background.

  If someone is following us, it means they want to get to us, or more specifically, me.

  Maverick and Marak both become SWAT before my eyes. They’re in control and in their element—their tones change, and Marak’s demeanor changes. It doesn’t ease the panic, however, because it means they’re about to put themselves in harm’s way for me.

  Maverick and Marak spend less than two minutes coming up with a plan of action. Maverick, Syn, and Allistar will catch up to us and cut off the SUV following behind us, giving us a chance to get away. Then, they’ll follow the SUV until they find out who it is inside.

  Marak hangs up, allowing the guys to execute their part of the plan.

  “You okay, Red?” He gives me a quick check, then turns back to the road. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m fine.” I have to say it twice because the first time my voice breaks. “I’m fine.”

  Marak doesn’t believe me anymore than I believe myself, but neither of us can do anything about it right now.

  Marak takes one hand from the wheel and grabs mine, bringing it to his lips and kisses my palm. “Taylor, everything is going to be okay. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I open my mouth to reply, but a loud bang from behind us followed by glass shattering turns my words to a scream.

  “Get down, now!” Marak shouts, pushing me toward the floorboard. He pops the glove box and pulls out a pistol, flicking the safety off with one hand. He swerves into the wrong lane, slamming on the brakes hard. The SUV passes us before they can hit their breaks. Marak swings the car back into our lane and rolls his window down. He aims the gun out the window at the SUV. One shot and I hear a tire pop. Two shots, two tires. Three
shots, three tires. The sound of metal on the road hurts my ears.

  “Just stay down,” Marak orders, not taking his eyes from the SUV ahead. “I got their tires, and they won’t get far before they have to stop. But I don’t want them to see you.”

  One second, my hand rests on Marak’s thigh, trying to calm us both down. The next, the sound of metal crunching and glass breaking penetrates my ears. Marak curses loudly. I scream out to him, reaching for his leg, but it isn’t in the same place as a second ago. More crunching of metal, and a sharp pain in my arm. Marak won’t answer me as I scream for him over and over. My head hits something hard, and the world turns black.

  26

  Allistar

  “He said they’re headed south on Broadway, they’d just crossed twelfth street when he hung up.” Maverick debriefs Syn and me on the situation while speeding down Broadway. We cross over tenth street, and he hits the gas a little harder.

  Five minutes before Marak called, the three of us were scattered around our living room talking about Taylor and what we should do.

  “Okay, you two can dance around this shit all you want, but I’ll just come out and fucking say it,” Syn huffs. “I want to give this thing a shot. This weird ass relationship where we all date Taylor. I want in.”

  “What made you come to a decision? You were the most against it less than a month ago,” Maverick muses though he doesn’t sound upset.

  Syn shrugs and glances away from us. “She did. Being with her, being around her did. I don’t want to let her go, and I refuse to hurt my family. It’s the only solution, and I know it because if there was another option, Maverick would have thought of it by now. He does nothing but think of solutions to shit.”

  I grin because he’s right. Maverick is the thinker, and he’d have come up with another idea if there was a good one.

  Maverick drops back in his chair and pulls the tie from his hair. He shakes it out, then ties it back up again—his nervous tick. “Okay, we need Marak here. We should wait until Taylor heads to bed tonight, then all four of us can talk about it. We can’t make any decisions or plan anything without him.”

  The phone rang before any of us could say another word.

  Syn can’t sit still in the back seat, and for once, I’m in the same position. We need to get to Marak and Taylor before that crazy son of a bitch. I can’t lose my brother or the girl I’ve fallen in love with. It makes me sick even considering what could happen if we don’t.

  We round the corner after we cross fifteenth street, and Maverick stomps on the breaks which brings us to a screeching halt. I’ve never been one for denial, but when I see the truck Taylor and Marak drove upside-down in a ditch and an empty SUV with the tires blown out a few feet away, I want to deny it’s real.

  Marak’s truck is crushed beyond repair. The roof is caved in, and every window is shattered. If not for the license plate, I may not have recognized it. The truck isn’t the worst part of the horrific scene, though. It’s the man dragging Taylor’s limp body to a different nearby SUV.

  “No!” Syn doesn’t falter. He jumps out of the vehicle before Maverick or I can react. He draws his gun and takes the shot without hesitation. He hits the man directly in the back of the head. The guy drops to the ground and takes Taylor with him. The SUV peels out, tires screeching against the concrete. Still, they manage to gain speed by the second as they fade from view.

  Maverick and I reach Syn at the same time. Maverick pulls him toward Marak’s truck. “We need to check on him. Make sure he’s okay. Allistar, go check on Taylor.”

  Syn nods numbly and allows me to go to Taylor while Maverick pulls him to the truck.

  When I reach Taylor, I find her in bad shape. Blood pours down the side of her face from the large gash on her forehead. Part of the snapped bone in her arm shows through the broken skin. Cuts and bruises cover most of her body.

  Being dropped jostled her enough to wake her. She pulls herself into an awkward half leaning, half sitting position. She stares with impossibly wide eyes at the man on the ground who no longer has half of his skull. The guys and I know what this looks like, we’ve witnessed it and worse. Taylor should never have to see it, though.

  I pull her into my arms, but she startles me when she fights my hold on her. “Don’t touch me! Let me go!” She screams and thrashes so much that I have to set her back down. Her injuries can’t handle the movement.

  “Taylor, it’s me. It’s Allistar.” My words don’t register with her. She draws her knees up, curling herself into a ball and gasping for air. It worries me because I don’t know if she has any damage to her lungs from the crash.

  Syn runs to us, probably because he heard Taylor’s screams. “What happened?” He crouches next to us, automatically reaching out for Taylor. She flinches away from his touch, shaking her head and murmuring over and over to leave her alone.

  “Baby, let me help you. You’re hurt,” Syn pleads, but she refuses to let us touch her. His mouth hardens into a straight line. “She’s in shock.”

  Sirens in the distance signal help is on the way, but it doesn’t make any of this okay.

  “Syn, where’s Marak? Is he okay?” The way Syn looks at me, he doesn't need to answer. I know it’s bad, but I don’t know how bad. If he didn’t make it, I don’t know what I’ll do.

  “Baby?” While Syn addresses Taylor, my mind spins, wondering what happened to Marak. “Baby, answer me! Damn it, open your eyes.”

  My attention snaps back to Taylor. She’s slumped over in Syn’s arm as he struggles to hold her up. The violent shakes wracking her body moments ago have stopped, and her eyes are closed. She’s too still again, and this time, she doesn’t wake up. That prick dropped her, and it woke her before. Now, nothing Syn does will bring her around. Her breaths continue to come in short, harsh gasps.

  As the ambulances and other officers pull up to the scene, Maverick yells for Syn, “He stopped breathing, Syn!”

  There’s a good chance we lost two people we love at once. My usually calm mood fades away into complete panic. What the hell are we going to do if they don’t make it?

  27

  Taylor

  The sound of the guys’ whispered argument wakes me from a deep sleep. My arm throbs, my body burns, and my head might literally explode. I thought the caffeine withdrawal and lack of sleep headache was bad. It may as well have been a puddle next to a sea in comparison to this one.

  “Marak, you need to relax and rest. We don’t need to be talking about this shit right now.” Maverick’s tone is full of authority.

  “I cracked a few ribs and broke my leg, Mav. I didn’t die,” Marak huffs, and I picture the pout he’s sure to have.

  Syn intervenes, “Maverick is right. You need to relax. You’re not dead, but you nearly died. You and Taylor both got really fucking lucky.”

  “How’s she doing?” Marak asks after a beat of silence.

  “She has yet to wake up, but the doctors ran every test Syn demanded, and she’s fine physically,” Allistar tells him. “Her arm is completely fucked up. It’ll take a long time to heal, and she got some stitches in her forehead. The fucker pulled her through the broken windshield of the truck, and she got some pretty deep lacerations from that. They had to stitch several different areas. Other than that, she’s got bumps and bruises all over like you.”

  “What about mentally?” Marak asks quietly. “You and Syn saw her in the few minutes she was awake at the scene. How did she seem?”

  “She was in shock,” Syn admits. “She was just in a bad wreck, nearly kidnapped again, and saw a man with half of his head blown off. It’s understandable she freaked out. We won’t know if she’s okay until she wakes up, though.”

  “She’s strong and stubborn as hell,” Maverick says. “She’ll be okay.” It almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as the rest of them.

  Marak sighs loudly then clears his throat and groans in pain. “Fuck, breathing hurts.”

  If I ha
d the ability to jump up and go to him, I would, but my eyes won’t even cooperate enough to stay open. I manage to get a quick look around the hospital room. A small curtain separates Marak’s side of the room from mine. The curtain has been pulled halfway closed, but I can still see Maverick, Allistar, and Syn’s backs as they stand next to Marak’s hospital bed.

  “I made my decision, guys. While we were being followed.” Marak breaks the momentary silence. “Really, I think I knew before that, but this crazy shit solidified everything for me. I know what I want.”

  “I made my choice, too,” Syn says quietly. “I told these two right before you called, actually.”

  Allistar sighs long and loud. “I thought I lost my brother, and it almost killed me. What I felt when I thought Taylor wasn’t going to wake up made a lot of things crystal clear. I promised myself I’d tell you guys I made up my mind as soon as we could see you again.”

  “We need to talk about this later. This is not the time nor place.” Maverick’s word is final, and the conversation ceases.

  They’re done with me. It has to be what they want to talk about. Three of the four just admitted they made a decision, and they sounded worried about their brothers’ reactions to those choices. The only explanation is they don’t want to keep me around, and they hope all of them are on the same page and want me out.

  It makes sense. They don’t need to babysit me anymore. The threat is gone.

  My body stiffens when my mind flashes back to the man who tried to take me again. I’d only blacked out long enough for him to drag me through the windshield of Marak’s truck.

  “You’re coming home where you belong, Pet.” His voice in my ear broke me. The same voice that called me on my cell phone and threatened me. He called me Pet. It was him; it had to be him. I blacked out again before he got me all the way out of Marak’s truck. A loud bang and some kind of impact jostled me awake a second time.

  The fall hurt like hell, but as soon as I opened my eyes, my pain faded to the background. Never in my life have I witnessed anything as horrible. I vaguely remember someone grabbing me, but they let me go when I screamed. After that, everything became a fuzzy blur until now.