Ashlinn, Mia - Destined to Be Three [Sweet Serenity] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Mia Ashlinn

  In between fits of giggles, Shannon informed her it was a pillow, and Katie-Anne wanted to know if she’d been visiting with her brother, Cade, or both of them.

  Jaycee grabbed the pillow from the floor and flung it. “Fuck you,” she snarled then flipped them the bird.

  Jaycee clamped her mouth shut when their laughter only amplified. Her father had always told her if she found herself in a hole, she’d better quit digging.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Katie-Anne finally gasped for breath. She grabbed her right side and stammered between huffs and puffs, “S–S–S–Shit, J. We’re trying to set boundaries for our game, and you’re over there moaning about God knows what. I know the whos, but I don’t want to know the whats.” Katie-Anne shuddered in revulsion. “There are some things I don’t need to know about my big brother.”

  Shannon grinned, her face taking on a sinister glow. “From what I hear, Katie-Anne, there are a lot of things you don’t want to know about your big brother.”

  Katie-Anne wrinkled her nose and shrieked, “Ewwww—”

  Without thought, Jaycee cut her off, demanding, “What the fuck are you talking about, Shannon?” She slapped her hand across her mouth the moment she realized her faux pas. A woman who doesn’t give a damn wouldn’t be ready to scratch out her best friend’s eyes over an offhand comment. Oops.

  Katie-Anne and Shannon watched Jaycee with rounded eyes and slack jaws.

  Jaycee knew she had less than two seconds to recover and repair. Schooling her features, she smiled with feigned sheepishness. “Sorry, it was a knee-jerk reaction.”

  Katie-Anne cocked her head to the side, looking so much like her brother it was downright scary, and arched one dark-colored eyebrow. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Jaycee heard the words she left unspoken. You are so full of shit.

  At the same time, Shannon dissected Jaycee with shrewd eyes, making her feel like a bug under a microscope.

  Jaycee knew those looks. Neither of them believed the bullshit she was peddling. She should’ve admitted to them long ago she’d been living life in a hell of her own making. The only reason she hadn’t was she knew they’d pull out all the stops to get her back into the arms of the men she loved.

  Well, the jig was up. She might as well lay everything on the table. It wasn’t like they could change anything, anyway. She’d walked out on Cade and Gray, they’d moved on, and that was the end of the story.

  Jaycee sighed in defeat and confessed, “Fine. How am I supposed to stop caring? I’ve loved them since I was four years old, and I don’t know how to quit.”

  Watching their faces, Jaycee was shocked to see the compassion filling their expressions. Shannon sighed. “Thank goodness, you’re finally coming clean.”

  Katie-Anne nodded her agreement. “J, you know we’re here for you. We’ve wanted you to come to us so badly, but we knew better than to approach you. We’re pretty partial to our heads.”

  Jaycee snickered softly. “You two are afraid of little ol’ me?”

  “When it comes to my brother and Cade, hell yeah I am. You’re one scary bitch when they’re involved,” Katie-Anne retorted with a devilish gleam in her eyes. “I would hate to be the woman who got between you and them. She’d have to be off her rocker.”

  Jaycee sat up, her spine as straight as an arrow and her head held high. She huffed indignantly, “I am above cattiness, Miss Blakemore.”

  Katie-Anne stared at her manicured nails disinterestedly. “I think I shall call bullshit on this one, my dear.”

  “Hey, J. Make sure you call one of us to help hide the body and the other to fabricate a rock-solid alibi,” Shannon advised her helpfully as if the situation was going to arise in the future.

  Jaycee’s hands went to her slender hips. “You bitches.”

  “Awww. Seriously,” Katie-Anne taunted cheerfully. “That cannot be all you’ve got.”

  Childishly, Jaycee stuck her tongue out at Katie-Anne, who returned the favor.

  As the only person acting like an adult in the room, Shannon quickly interceded. “Now, now, girls. Settle down. We were establishing the rules of the game before we got sidetracked, and I think we should get back to it.”

  Jaycee saluted Shannon playfully. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “I’m going to ignore that,” Shannon replied primly, crossing her right leg over her left as though she was on a job interview. “Now, Katie-Anne, please proceed.”

  “As stated before, we must go sequentially. The order will be determined by a game of chance. Rule number two, the dare must be completed within one month of its issued date. Rule number three, if one of us goes back on our challenge, then the other two will determine the appropriate reparation. Rule number four, none of us can talk to anyone about the game.” Katie-Anne stood up and walked over to Jaycee’s desk. She pulled out a sheet of blank paper, a pen, and a clipboard. “Are these okay?”

  Jaycee and Shannon mumbled their approvals.

  “Good.” Katie-Anne sat back down and jotted down the rules on the blank paper.

  “She would make us sign a damn contract,” Shannon remarked affectionately.

  Turning toward Shannon, Jaycee covered her mouth as if she were going to share a delicious secret and mock whispered, “Wonder if she is going to require blood this time.”

  Absorbed in her task, Katie-Anne didn’t pay any attention to them.

  Jaycee and Shannon laughed softly, waiting for Katie-Anne to finish. When she had finished, she signed the bottom of the paper before handing it to Shannon, who signed it as well, then passed it to Jaycee.

  After Jaycee signed the paper, Katie-Anne stood and took it out of her hand. “Now, we must complete the pact. You know what that means, girlies.”

  “Hell,” Shannon half said, half groaned as she got to her feet. “Is she serious?”

  Winking at Shannon, Jaycee got to her feet. “I think she is.”

  “I’m deadly serious,” Katie-Anne affirmed. “No loopholes for anyone. Come on, you wimps.”

  The three women stood in a close-knit circle, each of them extending their pinkies to the others. They tangled them together and sang,“’Cause I’ve got friends in low places, where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away and I’ll be okay. I’m not big on social graces, think I’ll slip on down to the oasis. Oh, I’ve got friends in low places.”

  Reaching the last line of the verse, they screeched out the final note and held it for far too long. Jaycee knew dogs had to be barking somewhere in town, howling in harmony with their dying cat imitation.

  They turned to their right, each of them leaning forward and kissing the other’s hand. The covenant was complete. They were in this together, for better or for worse.

  * * * *

  Exactly six days later, Jaycee stood in her bedroom and gawked at the three objects Katie-Anne had tossed on her bed. “Are those…Wait, what are those for?”

  “Oh, Jaycee, I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.” Katie-Anne smirked. “Those babies are for our game of chance.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Shannon said in shock. “You want us to draw dildos instead of straws?”

  Katie-Anne nodded with a sly smile. “Yeah, I thought it would make things more interesting.”

  Jaycee snorted, picking up one of the sex toys and inspecting it. “Nice choice. Do I get to keep one?”

  Rolling her eyes, Katie-Anne asked, “What if those are used?”

  “Sure they are,” Jaycee replied sarcastically. “And pigs fly, too.”

  “I didn’t know that used was in your vocabulary, Katie-Anne,” Shannon teased, grabbing one of the other dildos and playing with it.

  “Kiss my ass,” Katie-Anne snapped, her cheeks flushing. She snatched up the last phallus from the bed. “Let’s just get on with this.”

  “Whoa,” Shannon said. “Who pissed in your Cheerios? We were kidding.”

  “It’s fine,” Katie-Anne retorted coldly, letting everyone in th
e room know that it wasn’t. “Okay, look underneath the balls. They are numbered.”

  Jaycee flipped her dildo upside down and cursed when she spotted the number one. “Son of a bitch.”

  “Looks like you’re up first, J,” Shannon announced smugly as she turned over her fake cock. “It figures. Katie-Anne comes up with the fucking game, and she gets to watch us suffer first.”

  Katie-Anne smiled, some of her sparkle returning. “Sucks to be you two.”

  “Bite me,” Shannon growled with a playful wink. “So, what are we going to dare Jaycee to do?”

  Jaycee closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for Katie-Anne to respond.

  “Jaycee Dalton, we dare you to have your fortune read by Shannon’s personal psychic,” Katie-Anne declared.

  Surprised, Jaycee’s eyes popped open. “That’s it? That’s my dare?”

  “Easy, huh?” Katie-Anne asked as she tossed her sex toy to Jaycee, who missed it. The dildo fell to the floor with a thunk.

  “Damn it,” Jaycee muttered, bending to pick up the man-made phallus. “Just my luck.”

  Shannon squatted down, snagging the silicone cock before Jaycee could, and handed it to her. “I have a feeling your luck is about to change, my friend.”

  I wouldn’t bet on it.

  Chapter 2

  Jaycee dropped her blindfold to the floor and glanced around the dimly lit room. She took in all of the bizarre décor surrounding her. There were neon beaded curtains, lava lamps, scattered scarves, and a crystal ball on a pool-size antique table. “Guys, please explain to me why in the hell you dared me to come into this house of kooks.”

  Shannon smirked and made a sweeping motion with her hand that would rival Vanna White on her best day. “This is Destiny Isgood’s Psychic Parlor. She’s a fortune-teller.”

  Jaycee gritted her teeth. Well, thank you, Captain Obvious.

  Katie-Anne cleared her throat, visibly trying to hide her mirth but failing miserably. “Shannon simply adores Destiny. She’s a regular around this place.”

  Jaycee’s mom had always told her not to say anything when she had nothing nice to say. Remembering that sound piece of advice, she clamped her jaw shut and remained mute.

  Shannon nodded. “Destiny is absolutely amazing. You’re going to love her. I just know it.” She grinned widely and announced, “It’s a gut feeling.”

  Jaycee’s jaw dropped to the hideously colored carpet. Before she could gather her wits and respond, muffled titters came from Katie-Anne’s general direction. Jaycee turned sharply and gave her friend a look that would flash freeze Lucifer himself.

  Jaycee shifted her attention back to Shannon. “Have you completely lost your mind?”

  Katie-Anne murmured something under her breath that sounded as though she agreed with Jaycee’s assessment, but her voice was too low for Jaycee to be certain.

  Circling Shannon like a predator with its prey, Jaycee watched for any signs of nervousness or unease. “Who the hell are you? You kind of look like my best friend, but I don’t think you are.” She stopped directly in front of Shannon, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You’re up to something.”

  “Always,” Katie-Anne jumped in merrily.

  Jaycee forced herself to not acknowledge Katie-Anne. It would only encourage her.

  Shannon widened her eyes in an exceedingly pathetic attempt to appear innocent and shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

  Bullshit. Shannon needed to sell that garbage to some other poor, unsuspecting fool with a pea-size brain. “Shan—”

  Jaycee stopped short when a full-bodied woman stepped in the room. Destiny Isgood.

  The fortune-teller dressed exactly as Jaycee had expected. Decked out in outrageously loud-colored clothing, ostentatious jewelry, and a bedazzled turban, the strange woman was a psychic cliché fit for the big screen. Hollywood could make a killing.

  After her rude appraisal of Destiny, Jaycee glanced at Shannon then Katie-Anne. The little weasels had turned their faces away, making it impossible for her to see their expressions. Though, somehow, Jaycee knew her former allies-turned-adversaries were grinning like a couple of Cheshire cats.

  Destiny Isgood pointed at Jaycee, her golden bangles on her wrist clinking together. “You sit. We talk.”

  The woman’s brusque tone was unexpected. However, it was her Russian accent that snagged Jaycee’s attention. A red flag immediately went up. Two plus two wasn’t adding up to four.

  Jaycee hadn’t ever heard of a Russian psychic. She rapidly rummaged through her mind, trying to recall hearing of any psychics from Russia. When nothing and no one came to mind, she told herself she was being foolish. Obviously, Destiny Isgood is a psychic, and she is from Russia. Ergo, she is a Russian psychic.

  Jaycee giggled at the absurdity of her thoughts, startling the women in the room. Destiny didn’t seem amused. She looked stony, her face giving nothing away.

  A positively giddy Shannon turned back from the wall she’d been conspicuously inspecting for nonexistent cracks. “You should sit down for this.”

  Why would she need to sit down for this nonsense? Another flag went up in Jaycee’s mind.

  Katie-Anne seemed mesmerized by the dynamics in the room. Her eyes bounced from one woman to the next and then back again like a ping-pong ball. “Yeah, J, sit.”

  Jaycee didn’t lunge for Shannon or Katie-Anne right then and there. She managed to keep her temper in check. However, when they left this loony bin, they might not be so lucky.

  Taking a calming breath, Jaycee sat down in the plastic lawn chair facing the colossal table and waited for her “life-changing” reading.

  Destiny skirted around the other side and took the seat directly across from Jaycee’s. Not speaking, she stared at Jaycee with piercing eyes as dark as midnight on a moonless night.

  Jaycee fidgeted in the annoyingly rigid chair. What do you see, damn it?

  Finally, Destiny spoke aloud. “Your aura very dark. You sad and lonely.”

  Jaycee grimaced and muttered cynically, “Isn’t everyone?”

  Destiny took a deep breath and closed her eyes. A look of absolute focus crossed her face, and the temperature in the room dropped as if she were sucking the energy right out of it.

  Without opening her eyes, Destiny declared with conviction, “They coming. They save you.”

  In five impossibly short words, Destiny confirmed what she’d always suspected—they were coming for her. Gray and Cade hadn’t given up as she’d hoped, and this time she would lose.

  I can’t breathe. The crushing sensation in the middle of her chest made breathing nearly inexecutable, each breath being forced in and then out again. Her harsh-sounding breaths spread through the silent room.

  “Breathe, Jaycee,” Shannon ordered sharply, her voice barely audible above the buzzing in Jaycee’s ears.

  “You don’t know who she’s talking about,” Katie-Anne added without any confidence. She was clearly saying meaningless words because they sounded like the right thing to say.

  “Of course I do,” Jaycee snapped. “I told both of you they would come, and they are.” She lurched out of her chair and headed for the nearest exit. “Fuck it. I have to go.”

  Without a word or a backward glance, she ran.

  * * * *

  A full week had passed since her fateful visit to Destiny’s House of Horrors, and Jaycee was still running. She scampered through every aisle in the mini-mart, continually glancing over her shoulder like a damn escaped convict. This was insanity!

  She’d spent the last seven days hiding in her tiny apartment, only leaving for necessities. Even then, she’d waited until the middle of the night to skulk around town in a giant pair of sunglasses, a baseball cap, and a ratty T-shirt under overalls that were two sizes too big.

  Peering around the edge of the canned goods aisle, Jaycee sensed someone approaching her from behind. She quickly sped up and rounded the corner, hoping to avoid whoever it was.

  The distinct so
und of the click-clack of high heels came barreling for her. Katie-Anne. In self-preservation, Jaycee scrambled around her cart and took off, running as fast as her short legs would allow. Her escape was short-lived. Katie-Anne launched herself onto Jaycee’s back and knocked her to the ground in an unladylike heap of body parts.

  “Shhhhaaaaaaannnnoonnnn,” Katie-Anne screeched. “I’ve got her!”

  Jaycee panted and squirmed, trying to elude her captor. “Get the hell off me before I kick your ass,” Jaycee threatened between grunts and groans.

  An inelegant snort came from behind Jaycee and Katie-Anne. Please kill me and put me out of my misery.

  “Looks like you’re doing a fine job defending yourself, my friend,” Shannon said sarcastically, walking up behind them. “Come on, Katie-Anne, get off her.”

  Pushing Katie-Anne aside, Shannon bent down and helped Jaycee up.

  “Much obliged.” Jaycee nodded her head in thanks then whirled around to face Katie-Anne with bloodthirsty eyes. “What the hell was that? Have you lost your fucking mind, Katie-Anne? We’re in the middle of a damn store! I’m going to kill—” She stopped midsentence when cold metal brushed against her wrist, followed by a soft click.

  Confused, Jaycee looked down at the handcuff snapped around her wrist. Her shock gave the two women the leverage they needed. Katie-Anne grabbed her other arm, thrusting it behind her back toward Shannon’s waiting hand so she could snap the handcuff around that wrist.

  “You bitches,” Jaycee sneered as they ushered her out of the store. “I hate you.”

  Katie-Anne and Shannon didn’t acknowledge her. They were too busy chatting merrily about rubbish and strolling through town as if it was perfectly normal to pull a handcuffed woman behind them.

  Then again, their behavior was perfectly normal, not to mention acceptable, in Serenity. No tongue-wagging or eyelash-batting for any sort of relationship in her hometown. People living in conventional relationships coexisted with people in not-so-conventional relationships, and ménages made up a large percentage of the town’s population.