by Nashoda Rose
I took it slowly with the beer since I was driving later, but I was on edge while constantly listening for the front door to open. Where the hell was she? No way would Ream be a no- show.
I saw her laugh today. It was brilliant—stunning. It was like strumming the guitar and hitting a few new chords that makes your chest open up and your whole body to fill with electricity. It was that magical moment when you find something fresh and knew it was going to be a hit.
The front door opened and shut, and my heart skipped a beat then tap-danced its song.
Ream’s voice echoed in the large marble foyer as he called out to Mom. The girls were in the kitchen and my mom was laughing at something Emily said about Logan’s shoes being chewed by Tear.
I watched the screen door, the grip on the neck of my beer bottle tight, the cold damp glass clinging to my skin. The undeniable reality was . . . Haven did it for me. I loved how she was tall, yet still fit under my chin when she was curled into me yesterday. Confident and strong but I’d seen her vulnerability and fuck, that broke me. I wanted to bust down her walls and force her to let me in. That was the exact opposite as to what she needed, so I didn’t push. I waited. And waiting was hard as hell because I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to pull her into my arms and have every inch of her wrapped around me.
Ream slid across the screen door and walked out. Our dad got up, slapped him on the back and shook his hand. “Good to see you, son. Where’s your other half?”
Ream gestured with a head tilt toward the kitchen. “With the moms and Emily. Something about testosterone overload for the last few months.”
“Where’s Haven?” Subtle wasn’t my thing.
Ream opened the cooler and the ice clinked as he rooted around for a beer. Water dripped from the bottle as he lifted one out, then the lid clunked shut. He twisted the cap and the bottle hissed as the pressure released. Fucker was making me wait on purpose.
He chugged back the cool liquid before he finally said, “Not feeling well.”
I stiffened. No way was she sick. She went running for fuck’s sake. “You let her get away with that?” I took out my phone and quickly texted her.
You bailed. WTF.
Ream shrugged. “I’m not forcing her.”
And I had no brilliant come back except, “It’s just dinner.”
He was right, but this wasn’t about seeing a therapist. It was having dinner. I glanced at my phone, as if willing it to vibrate.
Nothing. I took a long swig of beer and set it down on the table.
The screen lit up and a wave of relief shifted through me.
I’m not ready to meet your parents. Or Ream’s. It’s weird. They’re his, but not mine. Not ready to see that.
It may be small, but with Haven it was a huge step. She told me the real reason why she didn’t want to come and that was something special.
Still . . .
You’ll have to at our wedding. ;)
“I’m getting really sick of hearing about my sister from your mouth.” I ignored Ream as my phone vibrated.
I don’t find you funny you know.
Sure you do. I saw you laugh today, Ice. I might have to start calling you fire instead.
I slid my phone in my back pocket. “You’re blind, bro. You’re not seeing her. You’re thinking of her like she’s still sixteen.”
Ream took a step toward me, his temple throbbing. “You have no fuckin’ clue what she went through. No clue! Shut your mouth, Crisis. And stay the hell away from her. She doesn’t need you teaching her to drive, flirting with her . . . fuck, just stay clear of her. Better yet, move out like you were supposed to do.”
I knew some of his anger was because he was worried about her. I got that. That was why I didn’t plow my fist into his face. I casually pulled out a chair and sat, right in front of him, stretching out my legs, ankles crossed. My toes curled in my running shoes and the muscles in my abdomen tense, ready for Ream’s assault. “Not happening, bro.” His lips pursed. “Haven and I are friends.” And like hell was I giving that up. One step at a time, not my usual way, but she was worth it.
“Friends?” Ream ground out. “You’ve never had a girl “friend” in your life.”
Kite coughed and Ream looked at him. Yeah, Ream couldn’t deny that his fiancée Kat and I were ‘friends,’ had been before they got together, and Georgie and I were friends since the band started hanging out at her coffee shop when we were in high school. Never fucked either of those chicks.
“Baby?” Kat opened the screen door, a tray of cheese and crackers balanced in one hand. Ream strode over and took the tray. “Thanks. You realize it’s a screen door and we can hear everything.” She stepped into him, hands settling on his waist then leaned over the tray of food and kissed him. She whispered something and he took a deep breath and nodded. “Hey, Dad,” Kat said then pranced over and placed a kiss on both of his cheeks. It was nice she called him dad, as Kat and her brother Matt’s parents died in a drunk driving accident.
He smiled, showing off his teeth he just had whitened. “Has Mom been after you about a date yet?”
Kat’s blue eyes sparkled as she nodded. “First question when I walked into the kitchen.” She scrunched her nose up at Ream. “And he bolted.”
Ream shrugged. “I’m not the issue here.” He put the tray onto the patio table, snatched a cracker and stuck it in his mouth.
Kat raised her brows, crossed her arms and looked at Logan. “No, you are.”
Logan chuckled, putting his hands up. “Hey, Mouse wants a big winter wedding, I’m giving her one.”
“Yeah, next February,” Ream said. “And Kitkat won’t get married until after you guys. Some girl bullshit rule.”
“Logan asked Emily first.” Kat objected. “They get married first.”
Ream took a sip of his beer. “What’s the big deal? Tell Eme to pick a place and do it.”
Kat smacked Ream in the arm and there was a mild twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Logan reached for the cheese knife and cut a slice of cheddar. “She wants the whole deal at our farm with Clifford pulling a sleigh and we can’t do that until the place is finished. I’d marry her tomorrow at city hall if she’d let me.”
I laughed. “Wouldn’t that screw over the reporters? Lead singer from Tear Asunder, marries his girl at the old city hall in jeans and t-shirt.” I slapped my knee.
“Logan Theodor Evans, don’t you dare.” Isabelle came up behind Kat and handed my dad the tin foil-wrapped garlic bread to go on the BBQ. “I want a beautiful wedding.” She lowered her voice. “Emily deserves that.”
Before shit could get all sappy, I jumped to my feet. “Hey, Mom.” I snagged Isabelle around the waist and gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. She loved that we all called her mom. Isabelle was majestic with long blonde hair that she kept tight in a bun most of the time and had angelic features. She was quiet and refined, but underneath, the woman had guts. She’d risked her life to get away from Logan’s father, who had been some drug and sex trafficking asshole in Mexico.
Isabelle’s long slender fingers cupped my cheek. “Nice to see you, Vincent. You riling up the boys?”
I raised my brows, smiling. “Damn right. They both need a kick in the ass to get their girls to the altar.” I winked at her. “If it was me, I’d have thrown my girl over my shoulder and plopped her on a plane to Vegas and married her kicking and screaming.” But Haven wouldn’t kick or scream. Shit, I doubt I could get her over my shoulder without one hell of a fight.
“Yeah, any chick would be kicking and screaming if she had to marry your ass,” Logan said and tossed a piece of cheese into his mouth.
“Not marrying my ass, she’s marrying my dick.”
“Crisis,” my dad warned in his disappointed tone. The one where you felt like total dirt after you did something he disapproved of.
Ream huffed. “Bro, no chick is marrying that over-used diseased thing.”
I snagged my beer off the table
and raised it in the air. “Hey, I’m a religious wrapper.”
“Good to hear, Vincent,” my mom said, coming out onto the patio with Emily. “But why don’t you try keeping it in your pants?”
“Fuck, Mom. I am.”
“Yeah, fuckin’ right,” Ream said, laughing at the absurdity of the idea.
“Language, boys.” My mom used ‘that tone,’ and no matter how old we were, that tone would never lose its effect. Just one of those things a son never outgrew.
Except for the constant niggling of wanting to jump in my car and go get Haven, the evening settled down with Ream at least accepting the fact that I wasn’t moving out of the farm anytime soon. It was likely the fact that Kite stated that the closing date wasn’t for six more weeks and until then, Emily still legally owned it.
Guessed I owed Kite one.
Six weeks. I wasn’t thinking of how long that was to find another place. I was thinking about how long I had with Haven. Most chicks it took me six seconds to get their undivided attention. But Haven . . . I wanted more than her undivided attention. I wanted her to trust me enough to place her shattered pieces in my hand.
I WOKE UP to my phone buzzing on the nightstand. I rolled over and put the pillow over my head. My leg muscles ached from my run last night, having pushed myself farther and longer than usual. The wind had been strong, trying to unhinge me with each step. I refused to give in. I’d win this fight. I’d kill the monsters. I’d watch them bleed until they no longer lived inside me.
But they did. My last few episodes proved that.
Buzz.
I sighed and tossed the pillow aside.
“Pick up your phone,” Crisis called through the door.
Oh, my God. “What are you doing outside my door?”
“Pick up your phone and find out.” I heard a thump on my door.
I reached over and snagged my phone.
Move it, Ice. We’re taking out the big tractor.
I scrolled.
Don’t ignore me, baby.
Third text.
I made coffee.
Fourth.
Okay, maybe not yet, but I will.
Fifth.
I’ll just sit outside your door until you get your ass out here.
I glanced at the time on the screen. Nine. “It’s Sunday. I’m going back to sleep,” I called, then tossed my phone aside and rolled over, tucking the sheet under my chin.
The door burst open and quickly shut again. Crisis leaned against it, his lips pushed together with that familiar crease between his eyes. “Our brother is a fuckin’ Terminator. I swear he has radar in his head that goes off every time I talk to you.”
My eyes narrowed in on him; he was so full of crap. “Crisis. Get out.” My brother wasn’t—
A light knock sounded on the door. “Sis?”
Shit. I sat up, making certain to keep the sheets covering me because I was wearing a pink silk negligee with skimpy spaghetti straps and it barely covered my breasts. Kat had bought it for me when I first came to live with them, along with a drawer full of panties and bras. She said, ‘every girl deserved to have beautiful negligee next to her skin.’ At first, I balked, internally of course, wanting nothing to do with anything sexy. But after a few months feeling the soft silky material on my hands as I pushed them aside in my drawer . . . I tried one of them on.
I’d never had anything but cheap clothes, and the negligee felt nice against my skin. It made me feel . . . good about myself.
Crisis crossed his arms and I couldn’t stop from glancing at his tatted biceps. Then my gaze trailed down his hard muscled body to strong thighs clothed in worn jeans hanging low on his hips.
God, where was my head? It was too early in the morning and I was wavering under the sweet clenching between my legs and the whirl in my belly. He was a rock star, a hot rock star who was always on social media. Triple hard limit.
“Haven? I just saw your door close.”
I cleared my throat and gestured to Crisis to get away from the door before my brother barged in, saw him and jumped to conclusions. He pushed away and came straight for me, his eyes sparking a mischievous glow.
My brother knocked again. “We’re going to brunch today at Georgie and Deck’s. I’d really like you to come.”
Fine. Crisis wanted to play . . . he froze halfway toward the bed when I raised my brows and smiled. He shook his head back and forth and mouthed, “Don’t do it.”
“Yeah, come in,” I yelled.
Crisis dove for the bed, threw the duvet up in the air and landed flat on his stomach, the cover settling over him just as Ream strode in. I lay frozen beneath the covers, my heart racing, and a whoosh of blood charging through my veins. My breath hitched as warm heated air brushed across my bare thigh and goose bumps popped up along my skin.
“Listen, if you don’t want to go, I won’t force you, but I’d really like you to. Emily missed seeing you last night and you know Georgie and Deck.”
If anyone could say they knew Deck.
Ream sat on the edge of the bed and I hastily bent my knees so the duvet tented and he didn’t notice Crisis’ breathing.
If he found him under the covers in my bed . . .
“I’d rather not. I have studying to do.” Crisis’ hand brushed against my calf and my heart leapt. I swallowed and shifted away, but it wasn’t far enough because my body knew he was there. My mind did, too, and I had no way to control the intense sensations roaring through me.
“I want you part of my life, sis.”
God, this was insanely awkward. I was completely turned on and my brother was sitting on the bed beside me.
Ream sighed and looked down at his hands. “I shouldn’t have left. I guess I thought with Olaf dead that you were safe and, well, you never seem to want me around. Any of us. ”
I stayed silent because I couldn’t lie to him. He was right, at least that was how I had felt. Not so much anymore. After years being a prisoner, trapped within a shell of a girl I’d never had a chance to grow into, I needed time alone, to heal, repair the holes, find who I was now, not who I’d been for twelve years.
He continued, “You know, if you want, I can teach you how to drive. I didn’t realize you were interested; otherwise, I would’ve offered before we left for the tour. I can buy you a car and—”
I stiffened. “Ream. No. I don’t want you buying me anything more. I already live here and you support me and pay for school.”
“You’re my sister. Of course I would.”
I saw the pain in his expression, the tight brows over his concerned eyes. He took so much of what happened to me onto himself. The drugs, the rape—he blamed himself for not seeing it. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Jesus, Angel.” He ran his hand through his hair. “It was. I should’ve seen what was happening. What Gerard was doing.”
“I hid it from you, Ream. I didn’t want you to know.”
He rested his elbows on his knees and put his head into his hands. “Why Haven? Why? You know I would’ve stopped it.”
I didn’t reach for him; I wasn’t in that place yet to do that with Ream. We were still so far apart even sitting next to one another. “I was scared.” He looked at me and I saw the tears in his eyes. “I couldn’t see you go back down in the basement again.”
He swore beneath his breath.
“Maybe it was my turn to keep us safe.”
“But you weren’t safe.” Ream’s voice raised and Crisis’ hand tightened around my calf.
“And neither were you,” I stated.
He was quiet for a second, then, “What did Olaf and Alexa do to you?”
“What happened doesn’t matter anymore.” My brother could never know about the club or about Charlie; he’d never forgive himself.
“Of course it does. Jesus. You matter. And I want you to feel like you can tell me anything.”
I met his eyes, refusing to waver as I said, “I can’t.” No, I wouldn’t.
“
Then talk to someone else. Please.” He raised his hand as if to reach for me, but changed his mind and drew back.
He’d tried to get me to see a therapist Emily once had gone to, but there was no chance I was letting out the demons that lived lurking inside. I knew what would happen . . . I couldn’t survive the pain. I raised my chin and met my brother’s eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it with anyone. When I escaped, it ended. Gerard, Alexa, Olaf, they’re dead and so is what happened.”
The muscles in his neck throbbed and there was a moment I thought he’d fight me on it. “Yeah.”
I scooted up further on the bed trying to move away from Crisis, whose hand gently caressed my lower leg. I knew it was meant to be reassuring after what he’d just overheard, but I had a sweet ache between my legs and I needed to get away.
“You okay?” Ream had always been stoic and intense with this cool wash of distance to him. I’d noticed since I’d been back, he’d changed. Softer, although still overprotective.
“Yeah. I’m good.” Except Crisis was in my bed, stroking my leg and I was getting turned on.
Ream’s brow lowered as he looked at the bed where the duvet had settled over Crisis. Shit. I coughed as I shuffled the duvet. “I better get up.”
“Sure. Yeah.” Ream glanced once more at the duvet then rose and walked to the door. “If you change your mind about brunch, we’re leaving at eleven.”
I nodded.
The door quietly clicked closed and I threw back the covers hiding Crisis. He rested his chin on his hands. “Pink negligee? You know that’s my favorite color, right?”
“I didn’t buy it.”
He grinned. “And definitely nice legs. Runner’s calves.”
This is what I liked about Crisis. He didn’t bring up the conversation with my brother because he knew I wouldn’t want to talk about it. He let it slide and was his usual self.
“You’re a good guy, Crisis.” I had no idea why I said it. Crisis didn’t need an ego boost, but sometimes, I wondered if he really knew that he was.
He never said anything and I didn’t expect him to, but his grin faded and he stared at me with those bright blue eyes. My breathing picked up to match my racing heartbeat as I imagined him grabbing me and pulling me underneath him, his mouth crashing down on mine. I pictured tasting him for the first time, feeling his weight on top of me, not suffocating but protective and warm. I wanted his hands on my body, touching every crevice while I explored his. I licked my dry lips and his eyes darted to them.