Finding Serenity

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Finding Serenity Page 29

by Amanda Perry


  “What if she won’t talk to us?” Allistar counters but follows Maverick out of the room.

  Maverick shrugs though I notice his shoulders tense slightly at the idea. “Only one way to find out.”

  Syn patiently helps me back to my feet—or foot since one is in a giant boot-type cast. “Will you dickheads wait for me? I’m crippled over here!”

  Even though it’s at my expense, the laughter of my brothers brings a smile to my face.

  29

  Taylor

  Six days without any contact with my guys. No, not my guys. They’re not mine, and I need to remind myself over and over. My heart shatters every time I think about them. The way Syn makes everything funny. Allistar always taking care of me and his incredible ability to stay in tune with me and the others. Marak with his dirty jokes and dorky antics. Maverick’s possessiveness and protectiveness, taking charge in every situation.

  Tears I was sure I couldn’t shed run down my cheeks. Over the last week, there’s a good chance the number of tears I’ve shed has dehydrated me. Food isn’t even on my radar—my stomach turns whenever I even consider it. At first, I thought it was because of my emotional breakdown.

  If I hadn’t gone to my appointment with Trish, I’d be worried about my little baby getting enough nutrition. She explained it was likely morning sickness. She said to eat what I can when I can, but if it became an issue, she’d prescribe medication to help. She put me on vitamins and reminded me to limit my caffeine and increase my water intake.

  Normally, if someone told me to cut out my caffeine it would be a big problem. My precious Diet Coke would never be given up. Except lately, I could care less about most anything, especially soda. The only thing keeping me going is my little jumping bean who needs me. Which also makes it easier to give up the Diet Coke.

  Grumpy brought me some in hopes it would lift my spirits. It didn’t work, but I love him for the effort. He doesn’t know why I shouldn’t drink the soda, no one does. He hasn’t bothered me or asked why I can barely leave my old room at his place. He was shocked when I didn’t put up a fight about coming home with him. It didn’t take him long to find out about the state of the apartment. Still, he expected me to find a new place in the first twenty-four hours because that’s the way I normally would do things. I may not see him much right now, but to know he’s in the other room helps a tiny bit.

  A harsh knock on my bedroom door startles me from my current cry fest. The door swings open before I can manage to sit up in bed. Evelyn, Grumpy, and Michelle storm into the room without an invite. The girls have their arms loaded with junk food, soda, and chocolate. They hop onto my bed and drop the food between us.

  “What are you guys doing?” I ask with a sniffle.

  “Tryin’ ta figure out why in tha hell yer hauled up in yer room like yer in mournin’ or somethin’.” Grumpy harrumphs into the desk chair. “Yer gonna tell us what’s’a matter with ya ‘n yer gonna do it right damn now.”

  “I’m fine.” I wipe a stray tear away.

  Evelyn rolls her eyes and scoffs, “Bitch, please. You’re far from fine. You only ever say you’re fine when something bad is going on. We need to know what’s up, and we need to know it now.”

  “We’re worried.” Michelle frowns, her hands idly rub her growing belly. The gesture makes my chest tighten. That’ll be me in a few months’ time. “You barely said hello to us when we got back. You won’t call us back or text us. We love you, Taylor. We want to help you if we can, but to do that we need to know what’s wrong.”

  Since I left the guys, I’ve been bouncing back and forth on whether to tell the girls and Grumpy everything. Well, not every dirty detail, but the big points. At first, I was afraid they’d be upset with me for my devil-may-care attitude. Then, I wondered if they might get pissed because I lied about the real danger I was in while they were gone. In the end, I knew I was only trying to convince myself I shouldn’t open up to my family.

  Realistically, I know they’d never judge me for anything. They may be shocked and confused, but they’d still love and support me. My baby needs to stay a secret for now, though. As badly as I want to tell them about the pregnancy, I can’t bring myself to do it when the guys don’t even know that one of them is going to be a father.

  “Talk to us, Taylor.” Evelyn softens and rubs my arm gently. It isn’t often Evelyn gets sensitive and serious. She’s as concerned as Grumpy and Michelle. Guilt sets in for putting them through such worry.

  “I fell in love.” Saying the words out loud lighten the tension in my shoulders a bit.

  Michelle shakes her head slowly when I don’t continue. “I don’t follow. You’re upset because you fell in love with someone? Do they not love you back? Did they hurt you or something?”

  “It was ‘at smurf boy, won’t it? He broke ma Tayter-Tot’s heart?” Grumpy growls and jumps to his feet. “I’m fixin’ ta load my shotgun ‘n take care a that boy.”

  “He didn’t do anything wrong, Grumpy.” I drop my head, nervous to tell them the full truth. “It was me who messed up.”

  “Start from the top, woman. My head is spinning, and I need all the details.” Evelyn pops open a bag of chips and sits back for the story.

  I start out slow. I them about the true danger I was in. They glare and grumble, but don’t interrupt. Once the words flow, they don’t stop. I tell them the whole story about how I fell in love with Allistar, Syn, Maverick, and Marak. I explain the relationship the Harper-Smith men have with Parker, and the relationship their parents share.

  Finally, I make it to the conversation I overheard in the hospital and how I walked out of their place without an explanation to avoid embarrassing myself and to allow them an out.

  The three of them sit silently and patiently while I ramble. None of them give away what they think, and it makes me nervous. Maybe they’re freaked out by my confessions and what I wish would happen with the guys. They probably think I’m out of my damn mind, and they could be right.

  “So,” Evelyn drags out when I finally snap my mouth shut. “You just left?”

  I nod, and Michelle drops her head back to let out a long breath. “You’re such an idiot.”

  “What?” My eyes jump to her and widen.

  “You need to talk to them, Taylor. You’re not being fair to them or to yourself by walking out without telling them how you feel.”

  Well, when she says it like that, it makes some sense.

  “Aren’t you at all freaked out about the whole four men part of this?” Evelyn shouts, pushing Michelle’s arm lightly. My heart squeezes for a second. She’s disgusted with me. “How the hell does this bitch get four sexy men, and I can’t even get one? Where’s the damn justice? Where’s my damn harem of men?”

  “Quit bein’ ugly, Evelyn, it ain’t a good color on ya,” Grumpy scoffs playfully. He then turns to me, his bright eyes narrow. “Yer a bright gal, Tayter-Tot. Ya always been smart ‘n I never thought I’d be sayin’ this, but yer ‘about four cents short of a nickel.”

  My jaw drops. “Are you calling me an idiot?”

  “If the shoe fits...” He shrugs.

  “Lace that bitch up and wear it!” Evelyn finishes for him. She giggles when I try to smack her.

  “Let’s be serious for a minute, guys.” Ever the mature one, Michelle brings us back on topic.

  Grumpy grunts in agreement with her. “As I was sayin’, yer an idiot if ya don’t give ‘em boys the truth about how ya feel. Y’all know good ‘n well I’m ‘bout as useful as teats on a bull when it comes to love ‘n crap. But I’m a man, ‘n I know how most of us men folk think.”

  “And how’s that?” Evelyn asks.

  “We don’t.” He shrugs. “The fool doth think he’s wise, but the wise man knows himself a fool.”

  Michelle gasps, and her eyes grow huge. “Did you just quote Shakespeare?”

  “I’ve read books in ma time, girl. I ain’t a complete idiot. Some parts’re missin’.” He winks at us as we g
iggle.

  Grumpy always knows how to brighten everything. “I’d bet ya dollars ta donuts them boys’re sittin’ ‘round with their thumbs up their asses ‘n ain’t any idea what ‘ey oughta do next. They’ve shown they’re smart as a whip, but they’re still men. They ain’t got a single clue how ta handle ‘is shit.”

  “Or they’re sitting around drinking in celebration of getting rid of me,” I counter, doubt pushing its way to the surface.

  “They ain’t.” Grumpy shakes his head.

  Michelle raises her eyebrows at the sureness in his tone. “You’re probably right, and I totally agree with you. But, how do you know they’re not?”

  “‘Cause I know. I got ma ways, girl. Don’t go questionin’ an ol’ man.” He has a secret, but I don’t have the energy to beat it out of him.

  “Is this why you barely speak to Dr. Lenny?” Evelyn asks with a sly grin.

  Grumpy sputters, “We ain’t talkin’ ‘bout me. Now hush up’r I’ll pick a switch fer ya, girl.”

  Evelyn giggles, and I narrow my gaze at Grumpy. He’ll talk about Trish when he’s ready, but I make a note to tell him I only want him happy.

  Something still nags at my mind about his reaction to my revelation. “Does it bother you, Grumpy? Me falling for four guys at once, I mean.”

  “Why should it?” He frowns as if he doesn’t understand. “It don’t change who ya are. Yer still you, ‘n I’ll love ya no matter what happens. If ya grew three heads ‘n scales, I wouldn’t give a damn. Yer ma little girl, Tayter-Tot. Nothin’ ‘n no one could ever change ‘at.”

  Thankfully, I’m not the only one who breaks down into ugly sobs. Michelle and Evelyn join me, and Grumpy looks horrified by all the emotion and estrogen in the room. He takes a few steps backward, toward the door.

  He shakes his head and holds his hands up as if to protect himself from us. “Y’all know good ‘n well I don’t do this cryin’ bullshit. Eat yer damned chocolate ‘n cut that crap out.”

  Without another word, he spins around and hauls ass out of the room. Michelle, Evelyn, and I have a good laugh at his expense. Then we talk. And talk. And talk.

  They get the dirty details about what happened with the guys. Michelle is scandalized, and Evelyn is jealous. But both are supportive and loving. They make me believe for the moment it’ll be okay in the end. They stay all night with me. We laugh, we cry, we hug, we throw food at each other. We spend time as best friends, as sisters.

  30

  Taylor

  An elbow in my side wakes me the next morning. When I manage to pry my tired eyes open, I find an angry Evelyn with a half-asleep death glare. At first, I can’t understand what her damn problem is, but then I hear the sound of a text message on my phone. I set my messages to continuously ding every minute until they’re read. It wasn’t set to do it before, but I was pathetically anticipating any text the guys sent me, even if I didn’t answer any of them.

  “If that fucking thing chirps one more time, I’m going to break it.” Evelyn and I have similar temperaments when our sleep is disturbed. Michelle could sleep through a bomb going off. She hasn’t moved an inch on the other side of Evelyn. My old king-sized bed comes in handy for girls’ nights. It’s the reason Grammy made Grumpy buy it for my room when I reached high school.

  With a dramatic groan, I roll over and pick up the offensive noise maker, fully ready to turn it off and go back to sleep. The name on the screen stops me, though. Syn sent me a message. The guys haven’t texted in three days, and I was under the impression they’d given up any attempts to contact me. Their earlier messages only consisted of questions about why I left and if I was ever coming back. Nothing about wanting me.

  My heart beats faster as I open the message and scan the contents. Then, it drops and shatters for the millionth time. His text only confirms what I already knew. They want all traces of me gone.

  Syn: You left some things here. Do you want me to drop them off, or do you want to pick them up? You’d need to tell me where you’re staying if you want me to drop them off.

  My reply is short.

  Taylor: I’ll come by today.

  To keep the sobs in, I bite my lip hard. I slowly crawl out of bed and grab some clothes from the duffle bag I have yet to unpack. Evelyn fell back to sleep in seconds and Michelle never budged. I sneak out of the room to allow them their sleep and shuffle across the hall to the bathroom. After a quick shower, I tie my wet hair up into a messy bun. I couldn’t care less if I look frumpy, and I skip over makeup also. My teeth get a good scrub, then I throw on the leggings and oversized sweater I pulled from the bag.

  When I emerge from the bathroom, Grumpy holds a cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other. He glances up at me, doing a double take. “Why ya cryin’ again, girl? I ain’t good with ‘at. Get ta bein’ mad instead, mad I can deal with.”

  With a quick swipe over my cheeks, I put on a fake smile. “I need to get the rest of my stuff from their place.” I pause when an idea forms. “Unless you want to do it for me?”

  “Nope, sure as shootin’ don’t ‘n sure as shit ain’t.” He grunts and turns back to his paper. “Ya oughta go talk ta ‘em boys, ‘n now’s as good a time’s any.”

  I pout, but it’s useless. Grumpy never caved from my theatrics. Grammy was the softy of the two. I’d give anything in the world to talk to her and ask her what I should do.

  My feet pound harder than necessary to the front door. When I glance around for the keys to Grumpy’s car, he whistles to grab my attention and tosses them to me as soon as I face him. I catch them seconds before they hit my head.

  “You’re nothing but a mean old man,” I grumble and stomp out of the house. His laughter follows me, but I slam the door on him.

  The drive doesn’t take nearly as long as I’d like. I consider a quick breakfast stop to bide my time, but my stomach immediately repels the idea. After parking in their driveway, I sit in the car for a full five minutes to work up the courage to go inside.

  Stalling doesn’t help my nerves, so I bite the bullet. When I reach the door, my hand reaches for the knob. It’s an instinct from staying here for such a long time. I never knocked before; I just walked in like I belonged here.

  Three deep breaths later, I push back the emotions as they bubble to the surface, then ring the bell. It doesn’t take long for Allistar to answer the door. Seeing him stabs me right in the gut. His dark blond hair is slicked back, the sides cut shorter than the last time I saw him. He was due for a trim, and I meant to tell him.

  “Hey, Taylor.” His tone gives nothing away, but he clearly isn’t surprised to see me, which means Syn told him I’d be by.

  I rock back on my heels. “Hi, um...” My voice is rough as the sadness creeps out. I clear my throat and try again. “Syn asked me to come get my stuff.”

  He nods, opens the door wider, and gestures for me to come inside. Stepping into the house feels weird, like I’m an unwanted guest in a place I used to call home.

  “He said he got everything ready for you. It’s in the living room,” Allistar says over his shoulder, walking toward the living room and away from me.

  Steeling myself for who else I might run into while I’m here, I follow Allistar. My eyes remain downcast on the beautiful hardwood floors I love so much. After today, I won’t see them again. When Allistar stops, I stop a few feet behind him.

  Someone other than Allistar clears their throat, and my head shoots up to find the other three guys around the room. Allistar strolls over and joins them.

  I blink, confused and unsure what to do. My stuff is nowhere in sight, and the guys’ expressions don’t give any hint as to what I should do. My feet shuffle in place, and my hands twist together with nerves. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was a bad time. I can come back or send Grumpy or something.”

  I turn on my heel, but don’t make it two steps before Maverick’s deep voice stops me in my tracks. “Stop right there, Taylor.”

  It isn’t a request;
it’s a demand. My body obeys him before my mind can catch up. He walks up behind me and turns me back to face him and the others. “You’re going to sit down and listen to us. When we’re finished talking, you can make the choice to run again, but not until then. Understand?”

  My eyes dart to the others, wondering how they’ll react to Maverick’s demands. None of them move a muscle or change their expressions. I have no idea what they might be thinking, and it drives me insane.

  “Answer me, Taylor.” Maverick draws my attention back to him.

  “I understand.” Again, the words come automatically.

  He leans forward. His lips barely touch my earlobe. “That’s my sweet girl.”

  My body ignites. By the way his eyes shine when he pulls back, he knows what influence he has on me. Ignoring him and the urge to jump into his arms and kiss him senseless, I pull out of his hold.

  Four quick steps, and I’m able to sink down into the recliner across from the couch.

  “We really don’t need to have this conversation.”

  My body shakes with nerves. It makes me a total idiot to sit here and let them tell me to my face all the reasons why they want me gone. If there were any brains in my head, I’d get up and make a run for it. But my ass may as well be glued to the chair—I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.

  Syn shakes his head. “No, we really do. You’re not going to run away from us again without hearing us out.”

  “Fine, talk.” To cover my nerves, I cross my arms and try to appear irritated. They don’t buy it. Maybe the tremors racing through my body give it away.

  Maverick sits down and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “How do you feel about us, Taylor?”

  The question takes me off guard, and I reel back in shock. “Come again?”

  “You heard him.” Syn cocks a brow. “How do you feel about us?”

 

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