by Lyla Oweds
Watch a Movie
Truth or Dare (or Seven Minutes in Heaven)
Braid Hair
Pillow Fight
Old Maid
But it was still a shock when Miles, who had been chewing on a spring roll near my ear, choked and burst into a coughing fit of his own. I was torn between wanting to help him breathe, and protecting my list from the nasty half-digested food spewing out of his mouth. But, eventually, humanity won.
“Miles!” I smacked him on his back, much like I had with Titus earlier, trying to be helpful. But it was no use. Eventually Titus, Julian, and even Damen had to rush to assist. Whatever it was that caused Miles’s issues, it must have been terrible.
Finally, after a tense eternity, his breathing evened and the redness receded from his complexion.
Or, he had looked normal until he caught me staring. Instantly, his face turned bright red again, and he was suddenly unable to look in my direction.
“What is wrong with you?” Damen noticed the strange exchange.
I was slightly affronted—I had done nothing wrong! Oh…Damen addressed Miles, not me. Miles didn’t answer Damen’s question. Instead, he snatched the clipboard from me and thrust it into Damen’s hands.
I could only watch in horror as Julian and Titus stood behind Damen, reading over his shoulder.
This was terrible. I had so much more to add to the list. I hated when people went over my incomplete projects.
There was a momentary pause before three sets of eyes slowly rose from the paper and stared at me. The boys’ gazes contained a mixture of bewilderment, amusement, and something else that I couldn’t quite place. I began to get anxious.
What in the world was their problem?
“What’s wrong?” I leaned away from them. Why did it feel like something was wrong? Perhaps monks hated playing cards—it was too similar to gambling, or whatever. Who knew?
Slowly, Damen turned the clipboard around until it was facing me. Then, just as dramatically, he pointed at the neatly printed ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven’ item.
Okay?
I pursed my lips, studying the paper. Was I missing something? Everything seemed perfectly normal to me. I glanced back up at him. “What’s wrong with that? Do you have something against massages?”
Perhaps it was a hereditary aversion. Finn said he hated that part of Seven Minutes in Heaven too. It was the only thing that made sense. I knew the guys weren’t against touching, so I had no idea what the problem could be.
Julian face-palmed at my words, and Titus appeared even more confused. But it was Damen—with a raised brow—who finally answered. He seemed slightly alarmed, but mostly amused. “Massages?”
“Right. Massages.”
“Bianca?” Daman’s lips quirked briefly, but he continued in a smooth voice. “How do you play Seven Minutes in Heaven?”
Surely, he was joking. Damen, in all his sexy glory, had never played the game before either? I found it hard to believe. But with his serious eyes searching mine, I realized he might be, in fact, not joking at all.
So not only were they monks, but they were sheltered too. It was a good thing they had me. By God, who didn’t know how to play this game?
“Well,” I began, crossing my legs in front of me as I lectured, “this is a more advanced version of Truth or Dare. The point of the game is to build closeness between friends. You start with your normal Truth or Dare rules, but that’s where the similarities end. You see, you can only choose truth. If there’s a truth you don’t want to answer, then the questioner wins a dare.
“The dares have to be done in order, and you can only withhold the truth three times.” I held up three fingers to count off the dares. “The first dare, you simply hold hands with the questioner until your next turn. The second time, you have to sit on his or her lap. But, for the last dare, the questioner wins a massage from the loser.”
All four boys were staring at me with looks of disbelief.
“What?” This put me on edge, and I lowered my hand slightly—taken aback. “That’s why it’s called Seven Minutes in Heaven. Because of the massage—it’s seven minutes. It even has its own name—a happy ending.”
Titus choked. At the same time, Julian opened his mouth to say something, but Miles, rose to his feet, and smacked him on the back of the head.
I was so confused…
Damen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where did you hear this?”
Was it possible that I was wrong? Surely not.
The thought didn’t comfort me. I nervously picked at my shirt while answering. “Finn told me…We used to have slumber parties, and I was trying to find games for us to play. He told me the details. But then when I researched how to give massages, I found out about happy endings. I had questions. He explained it all…”
“You’ve played this version of Seven Minutes in Heaven with Finn?” Damen asked, his eyes still closed.
“No.” My voice was quiet. The way they questioned me put me on edge. I hadn’t realized this was such an embarrassing game. “He said it was stupid.”
The four of them exchanged wary looks, and I was even more lost. What did he mean? I had no idea there was another version of the game.
“Never mind.” Damen sighed. “This is fine. We can play Seven Minutes in Heaven, baby girl. It sounds…interesting.”
Titus was staring at his feet, his expression closed, and Julian’s face was disapproving as he rubbed his head, glaring at Miles. Miles—on the other hand—seemed to be entirely too happy about something. Julian sighed, not getting any reaction from the other man, and glanced away—defeated.
“I’m sure there is a rational explanation for this. But at least he didn’t take advantage of the situation,” Damen muttered darkly.
What in the world was he talking about?
This was not acceptable. Their attention snapped to me as I pulled out my bejeweled phone and unlocked the screen.
Titus frowned, and a spark of caution entered his gaze. “What are you doing?”
“Researching,” I replied, pulling up the browser and opening a new search. “Something about this isn’t adding up here.”
“No!” Julian snatched the phone out of my hand. I could only stare at him—my hand still outstretched—in complete shock. “Don’t search for it,” his voice was strained as he held the phone out of my reach. “We’ll play your version of the game. It sounds like innocent fun.”
Damen had returned to his seat and was watching me, amused. “How often do you look up things on your phone? Do you have a computer?”
Why did that matter? “I don’t have a computer. If I needed one, I used Finn’s. And I research things all the time. I like to be informed.”
His gaze turned contemplative. “And you’ve never searched for these games for yourself? Instead, you asked Finn. I find that hard to believe. You seem like a curious person.”
Why were they asking me all of these weird questions? Why were they acting so weird?
“Of course I have! The internet says they don’t exist. So I figured that it must be only a local thing or something.” I stared at him pointedly. “Are you saying that you know more than the internet?”
Damen held his hands up in an unassuming gesture—but his expression was much more severe than it had been a second before. “Absolutely not,” he stated, shooting a look at Titus.
Titus appeared more thoughtful than amused now. “Hey, beautiful?” He held out his hand toward me. “Do you mind if I borrowed your old phone for a while?”
My gaze followed the line of his outstretched arm before I met his eyes. He looked too serious. Miles wasn’t laughing anymore, and Julian’s embarrassment had fled. The light atmosphere in the room had turned into something darker—something no evil spirit had caused.
Alarm bells rang in my head. No, something was seriously not adding up here. Suddenly, I wanted nothing to do with the device.
Without question, I dug the phone out of my pajama pocket a
nd dropped it into Titus’s hand. “Keep it.” I glanced away. I didn’t ever want to see it again—even holding it made me feel dirty.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dark
The party had been cancelled, and my mood did not improve the rest of the evening.
I was just emotionally exhausted. Between everything else that had happened—and now whatever this insinuated. I was stupid, pathetic, and depressed. Miles had attempted to cheer me up with poison-free chocolates—making another store run and everything. But that did nothing to lift my spirits.
There was only one thing that I could do—my job.
While Julian cleaned up from dinner, I limped my way back to the living room and settled myself in an office chair. Someone had to watch these screens. Even though Damen said he had “people” on monitor-watching duty, it probably wasn’t the same as me being here.
I had been an idiot about a lot of things, apparently. But taking care of the ghosts in this house was my personal responsibility.
Titus claimed the other office chair and tinkered with my phone and his laptop. Eventually, Julian and Miles joined us in the room but remained silent as they typed on their phones. Meanwhile, Damen seated himself in one of the high-backed chairs. He had been quiet for a long time and just watched me—motionless.
It was somewhat unnerving, but I tried to ignore his unrelenting stare. I was becoming numb to his freakish ways. If staring at a blob entertained him, then he could go for it. I couldn’t stop him—I wouldn’t be the one to cave first.
“Bianca.” Damen’s voice cut through the tension in the room like a knife.
I hummed in response, not turning my tired eyes away from the screens. I had won at something, at least. Besides, I knew what his nosy butt wanted anyway. He wanted a reaction, but he wouldn’t get it. I didn’t care about Finn anymore. Not even Damen’s scorching gaze would deter me. I had a job, and I couldn’t miss an instant.
“Bianca, look at me.”
I pressed my lips together painfully. Why couldn’t he leave me alone to wallow? He was so meddlesome and stubborn. I didn’t need him to get all psychological on me.
I’d show him. I could be more stubborn. I’d already won once, and I’d do it again. I couldn’t look at his handsome face at all right now.
“Bianca! Can you look at me, please?” Damen repeated, his voice commanding.
And, for some reason, I couldn’t help myself. I looked at him. Our gazes locked, and the intensity of his concerned expression captured me.
No. I didn’t want concern, or pity, or anything else. I wanted to catch this ghost and move on with my life. I was used to disappointment, so I would be fine.
But it wasn’t over between Finn and me. I would have to confront him. To get my revenge over his betrayal. No matter what Titus found on my phone at this point, I’d no longer be surprised. In fact, I had a feeling that Finn’s betrayal ran deeper than I could imagine.
Why Finn would want to control my phone or lie to me—I had no idea. I almost didn’t want to know the reason. It wouldn’t change how it affected me.
Something sacred had been destroyed.
“What?” I meant to sound annoyed so Damen would back off. There would always be some things that I’d have to deal with on my own. However, my voice sounded pathetic and broken, even to my own ears.
And for some reason, my vision was blurring—imagine that.
Damen cursed and was on his knees in front of me before I could even blink. Then—just as suddenly—he pulled me from my seat and into his arms as he sat cross-legged on the floor.
“It’s all right.” He breathed the words into my hair. His voice seemed to reverberate through me as he spoke. “We’ve got you now. We’ll take care of everything. You don’t need to pretend anymore.”
The way he said it—his words sounded like a promise. It touched me more than anything else ever had. I had been torn—toggling back and forth between two sides of myself.
I actually contemplated ending this friendship before it went too far. After everything that happened with Finn…I couldn’t handle my heart being ripped out again by someone else. While it was true that being alone terrified me, being hurt felt even worse.
But there were good people out there. There had to be. I had—apparently—never known them before in my life. But that only made it more likely for me to find someone else soon. There must be something good in store for people who’d suffered the most.
I had to believe it.
There was something different about these guys, and I wanted to believe in this connection. Nothing about this relationship was normal. With them, it was as if my anxieties melted away. Fears and feelings that clouded my mind in any other situation were lifted—I felt like I had regained a part of myself. Even with Finn, it had never felt so right.
Opening up was so easy, and so intimidating. But I couldn’t stop myself. I gripped at Damen’s shirt, not caring if the fabric became wrinkled. He could buy another. And with that, the dam burst.
“Please don’t let this be a lie.” I felt pitiful—it was difficult to force my pride aside in order to say the words. Every disappointment flashed through my mind: life in foster care, my adoptive parents, Finn…I was truly alone. “I can’t do it anymore.”
Damen crushed me so tightly that I could scarcely breathe. But breathing didn’t matter. I could only relish the comfort and security of his arms while I broke down completely.
I didn’t know how long I cried, but the entire time, he whispered things, made promises, and reassurances that made no sense. His warm hands ran comfortingly through my hair and over my back. The fact that—for the first time in my life—there was someone to simply hold me, who genuinely cared, made me cry even harder.
I was a mess. Yet this cathartic release made me feel stronger. I was no longer alone.
Damen didn’t leave me—none of them did. The others hovered and made concerned comments. But eventually, they settled and allowed Damen to take the lead. What was important was none of them abandoned me during my ridiculous emotional display.
Was this what friendship was supposed to be like? Was this normal? In the past, Finn would have awkwardly petted my shoulder and left me alone to cry. He wasn’t the best person in the world when it came to emotions. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention.
It seemed an eternity before my tears dissolved into hiccups. My eyes burned, and as I began to wipe them with my fists—belatedly trying to salvage Damen’s shirt—a navy handkerchief was thrust into my hands.
I looked at it—confused. Who in the world carried handkerchiefs these days? Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised. These guys also used serving trays and fine china during their weekly club meetings. So, yeah.
But if they were monks, would it make the weekly meetings a religious service?
Julian—the owner of said handkerchief—sat at my feet, beside Damen. How long he had been there, I had no idea. Titus was there too, arms crossed against the top of his head as he watched me with a scrutinizing expression. My back was warm—Miles sat on Damen’s other side.
I had known they were in the room, but not quite so close! Embarrassment flooded my face. They had all literally sat around me while I cried like an idiot. This wasn’t friendship, this was…something else.
It was too much, that was what. Insanity.
Something must have shown on my face. As I accepted the cloth, Damen spoke for the first time in a while. His voice was rough, and from my current position, I couldn’t see his face at all. “Don’t worry, baby girl. We always sit in close-knit groups during our slumber parties. It’s all the male bonding. You’ve just been initiated.”
I half-choked out a laugh—now I knew he was trying to make me feel better. “Stop it.” I smacked his chest playfully even as I ignored the pang in my chest. He had admitted out loud I was now one of the boys.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Answers
Becoming a part of their inner
group was easier than I’d thought. I suppose the lack of distinction was made easier by my small breasts. But then I remembered—my job. “The screens!”
I attempted to jump up, but Damen’s arms remained tight around me. It was Titus who answered, “I’ve been watching them. But it’s really not important.”
“What happened with you looking at my phone? Are you done?”
Call it morbid curiosity.
Titus frowned and glanced at Damen, who stiffened slightly behind me. Just as I suspected.
“What did you find?” It would suck, but I needed to understand how badly I had been manipulated throughout my friendship with Finn. “Just tell me.”
Damen sighed. “I’d like to know that myself, but…” He ran his hand down my hair, angling my head so I could see his face. “Are you sure that you want to know?”
I pressed my fists against my chest, as if the pressure alone could calm my racing heart. I nodded affirmatively. Why prolong the inevitable?
Titus’s face contorted into a grimace—he wasn’t happy. “All right.” He held up a small square. “This is your SIM card. I’ve taken it—and your battery—out because there was a tracker set on your phone.”
I had expected this; but it didn’t stop the blood from rushing out of my head. Nor did it do anything to quell the anger that had begun to rise in place of my grief. “What kind of tracker?”
“A GPS tracker,” Titus replied. “Along with other things.”
“What kind of other things?” Damen ground out—his muscles tense beneath me.
“He’s been monitoring and recording her calls—a copy is forwarded to his account. The same goes for all of her messages.” Titus put the card down and crossed his arms. A mask of fury had fallen over the seductiveness of his face.
It was easy to remember he was still seductive, either way. I had known about the calls and texts already. I couldn’t believe fury looked so good on this man as well. How was this even possible?