by Tijan
My dad ran a hand down his face. The bags under his eyes seemed to have gotten bigger. “No, Sheldon. You’re here for your protection, too. People hate you. They want to hurt you, and anyone knows the quickest way to you is through them. They’ll follow them, and even though those boys love you, they’ll be bringing some haters right to your doorstep. I can’t allow that. I’ve been gone, but it was for your safety. I stepped in because I was forced to.”
I snorted in disbelief. “Your absence was for my safety? Are you growing weed somewhere in this fortress? That’d make more sense. Clue in, Father dear. I had a stalker who tried to kill my friends and me, and then shit started happening again last year. I’ve never been safe.”
“This is different.”
“How?”
He shoved out of his chair and yelled, hitting the desk with his finger at the same time, “YOU’RE WANTED FOR MURDER!” He stopped, grimaced, and lowered his voice. “The entire nation hates you, Sheldon. Grace was a good girl. She was lost and hurting, and she wanted to be accepted—”
“She was accepted.” By me.
He kept going as if I hadn’t spoken, “—and the police have arrested you as the suspect. With your history, with everything you have done or has happened to you, it’s all being brought up. The media has already painted you as a spoiled rich bully. That’s what you are to them, and your attitude of fuck off is what they salivate over. You have dark hair. Grace had beautiful blond hair. Good and evil. That’s what the nation understands, and the media is handing it to them on a silver platter.”
“I need my family—”
“I am your family!”
“No, you’re not. You’re not. I don’t ever remember a time when you were. Bryce and Corrigan are my family, and I want them here.”
“They can’t come here—”
All the crap he’d been dishing at me fell on deaf ears. I wasn’t dumb. I knew how I was being painted, but he wasn’t going to win this one. This time, I leaned forward and hit the desk with my finger. This time I was the one who yelled at him, “THEN GET THEM HERE! You do it. You figure it out because if you don’t, I’m finding a way out of here, and I’ll hitchhike all the way back to the city, no matter what car picks me up.”
I swept out of there.
My blood was pumping; the old Sheldon was tearing at me from inside. The old me would’ve trashed the house, then got obliterated and had sex. That wasn’t me anymore, but damn, gritting my teeth, I wanted to do some damage. My fingers curled into my palms, and I sunk my nails into my skin. I pushed them farther in and stood there, trying to calm myself down.
“Oh my god,” Beth gasped from behind me and then hurried around me. She disappeared down the hallway, but returned a moment later with towels. “Sheldon,” her tone turned cautious, “you are bleeding all over the floor. I need to look at your hands.”
I needed my family. Lifting haunted eyes to her, I said, “You’re not my family.”
“I know.” Her hand clenched tighter around the towels. “Can I look at your hands?”
I clipped my head to the side. “A lot of bad shit has happened to me.”
“I know.”
She was speaking so softly to me, like a timid mouse, but for some reason I needed her to understand. I said, “I’m not crazy. I’m not horrible. I’m not a murderer. I can be a bitch, that’s it. People have always wanted to take me down, and I don’t let them. That’s what I’ve done. That’s my mistake, standing up for myself.” An inner voice laughed in my ear. ‘Yeah, right. You’ve done your own damage.’ I muttered, half to myself and half to Beth, “I need to find out who killed Grace. I can’t stay here; I’m trapped.”
As I was speaking, I was half aware of Beth kneeling at my feet. My hands were touched, then peeled back, and she pressed something into them. Pain sliced through, but I was barely mindful of it. It couldn’t cut through the other pain that was already in me. Nothing could quiet the need to avenge what had happened to me.
I was led to a room. Water was turned on, and I felt Beth starting to clean my hands. I let her, and I told her at the same time, “I need my family.”
She stopped and glanced up. “Your mother?”
“My family.” I gave her a hard look. “You heard me in there. You know who I mean. I need them, not some guy who hasn’t been around for years.”
Turning off the water, she held my hands over the sink to let them dry. “Your father may not agree with me sharing this with you, but he’s been away for a reason. He’s had his own troubles over the years and staying away was for your safety, Sheldon, but trust me when I tell you that he never stopped thinking about you.”
“He never cared before.” The memory of when he came home one night flashed back to me. I told him someone had broken into the house, and he only wanted to talk to Bryce, to catch up and see how he was doing. It’d been a slap to my face, but that was the reality. Neil checked out long ago. Now he was demanding to be let back in? A snort came from me. Beth paused hearing it, and I pulled my hands away from her.
The storm had quieted inside me, a tiny bit, but I knew it would come back. I wasn’t going to take this sitting back in a fortress. I knew that much.
Picking up some of the bandages she had laid out by the sink, I started to dress my own wounds. Beth moved back. I felt her gaze, watching me, and just kept doing it. I didn’t stop until both of my hands had ointment applied to them and were wrapped up. When I was done, I glanced at her again.
There was a different look in her eyes. I didn’t know it, and I didn’t care to guess, but I murmured, “Please bring my family here.”
With that said, I went to my room and a standoff commenced next.
A day went by. Nothing. They wanted me to meet with my lawyers so I refused. The longer he held back what I wanted, the longer I’d do the same to my father. My father would knock on my door with demands. I needed to be updated about my case. There were things going on, and I needed to know, but I refused everything. I didn’t want to lash out like the old Sheldon. I’d been through too much crap to know better. I was more mature, dammit, but instead, I had to fight back in a different manner. I went the Gandhi route.
A second day went by. Still nothing, so I stopped going to meals with Neil and Beth. The few times I had sat with them had been tense anyway. It wasn’t any great loss to me. The third day. Again, nothing. This time I just stopped talking to them. Again, no great loss. This was more beneficial to me. The fourth day. Same thing, so I stopped going anywhere within the fortress. I remained in my room.
This kept up for a week.
If this would last another week, I’d stop eating. I didn’t want to do that, but I would. I wanted Bryce and Corrigan there, at least them. Denton would be a cherry on top at this point, but Neil remained steadfast. So after a second week of my silent protesting, I took the trays of food inside, but placed them back outside my room each night. No food was eaten.
Four more days went by.
I could withhold, but my dad pulled out all the stops. He even had pizza delivered and had the boxes set outside my room. I could smell that all day long. Then it was Chinese, then donuts, then the worst—coffee. I peeked out into the hallway once and was shocked. It resembled a school’s cafeteria. Tables had been set up with buffet-style containers on top. Then I realized my dad had created a buffet line, but it was for everyone else to eat and for me to smell, and suffer over.
Bastard.
That was smart.
My stomach groaned and protested each morning, all day long. I thought I’d go numb from the hunger, that it might go away, but it never did. I just got hungrier and hungrier. And, seriously, the coffee aroma almost had me climaxing each morning.
I held firm, but it sucked.
Finally, after almost three weeks of this, the tables were taken away. I didn’t know what that meant, but I just went back to bed. That was all I could do at this point. I was drained.
A soft knock woke me up that evening.
I rolled over, but didn’t get up. It would be Neil or Beth. She had started pleading with me to eat too, but instead I heard my dad say, “You won.”
I sat up, but I couldn’t talk. My throat hurt too much.
He sighed from the other side of the door. “They’re coming.”
My heart began to accelerate. I rasped out, “Are you lying to me?”
“No.” He sounded defeated. “You won. Your boys are coming.”
A rush of exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I lay back down. Finally.
*
I was sitting on the back terrace when the gates buzzed. I knew who it was. I’d been waiting all day. My body was riddled with knots, and when I heard the tires on the gravel, I couldn’t sit still anymore. I stood, knocking the orange juice over. As it spilled across the table, Beth gasped. She dove forward with her napkin. “Sheldon!”
Two guards stood at the entrance. I paused for a moment. My father had said they were for my protection, but I wasn’t sure. As I started for them, their hands went to their guns. I stopped. They stopped. My eyes narrowed, and my chin moved down. I asked, “Why can’t I go out there?”
They glanced at each other, but didn’t say a word.
She said from behind me, “Because they have to make sure it’s them.”
“I know it’s them.”
Beth came around with her hands full of wet napkins now. She was thin and frail looking, but I wasn’t an idiot. My father’s girlfriend had her own agenda. Disapproval was heavy in her gaze now as she raised her chin toward me. “You’re here for your own safety—”
I shot her a dark look. I had waited for another week after my Gandhi protests were victorious and Neil kept reassuring me they were coming. He explained they needed to take precautions, to make sure they weren’t followed, and to cover everything on their end, so they could stay awhile and not raise suspicion.
I didn’t know if I could hold back anymore.
Beth started again, “You’re not invincible—”
Fuck it. I started forward. I didn’t hear the car doors open, but I didn’t care. If they didn’t come to me, I was going to them. They were only a few yards away now.
“Sheldon!”
The two guards moved together. They were a six-foot wall of muscle and machine guns. I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t just my mother that tended to exaggerate. The amount of weaponry my father had was unnecessary. We weren’t in a drug cartel.
“Move,” I barked at them.
They waited for Beth’s command. A disgusted sound came from her, and she muttered, “Yes, move. Let her go.”
They parted, and I surged through them. Rounding the corner of the mansion, the doors on a black SUV opened. Even before the foot stepped onto the ground, I knew who it was. None of us had parted on good terms, but I didn’t care. I felt them both in there. Then his black hair cleared the door, and I saw Bryce’s startling blue eyes turn to me, and I launched myself. He took one step forward and caught me. His arms went around me, and my legs went around him. Shit. He was family. He was here.
It felt right. No matter the crap that happened, it was right.
“Sheldon.”
At the sound of Corrigan’s voice, I turned. My legs fell to the ground, and then he was hugging me, just as tightly as Bryce had been. Both of them were my family. He smoothed a hand down my hair and back and murmured, his head tucked against the side of mine, “Are you okay?”
I nodded. I couldn’t talk, but I was okay at that moment.
Bryce said, “I was coming to bail you out. Denton, too, but when we got there, they said it’d already been posted.” He gazed around, taking in the estate and mansion. “This is your dad’s?”
Corrigan grunted. “Not so missing now, is he?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about my dad.” I paused. “Or my mom. Is there any news on the investigation?”
“Yeah.” Corrigan’s tone was somber.
“What?”
“That you did it.”
I swatted at him. “That’s not funny. I’m not laughing. I’m pissed.”
He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. “That’s all that’s on the news. It’s you, you alone who killed her.”
“I didn’t kill her.”
Bryce said, “We know. I doubt they’d talk about anything else if it shed light on a different suspect. You’re a known name now. The police’s reputation is at stake if they find out someone else killed her.”
I groaned. A headache was starting. “I can’t handle this. I’ve been here for a month, and I’m already going nuts.”
“Your dad’s hardcore.” Corrigan sounded frustrated.
I wasn’t listening. The news was still all about me. What Bryce said was true. An anchor dropped to the pit of my stomach. They weren’t going to look for a different killer. They were going to pin it on me one way or another. I closed my eyes as a helpless feeling came over me. I was drowning, and I was going to die if I didn’t fight my way back to the surface.
I had to go back. I had to find who killed Grace.
Bryce had been watching me. He asked now, “Sheldon?” His eyes were narrowed.
I met them and shook my head. “We have to find who killed her. We have to, if they won’t.”
Corrigan let out a deep breath and raised a hand. “Can I make two suggestions?” He waited as we both looked at him. “One, we just got here, so can we wait a little bit? You don’t know what we went through to get everything cleared so we could even get in that car to come to you. I’d like to chill for the night, at least. And the other thing, can we not bait the killer to your house, and can someone else get stabbed this time? That really sucked last time.”
I grinned. A small chuckle escaped Bryce and me.
In that moment, that one split moment, it felt good. The three of us were back together. I took a little time to savor it, and then I decided, no matter what else happened, the three of us had to stay together. All the other shit was stupid.
CHAPTER FOUR
Once the excitement of having Bryce and Corrigan there had waned, the realization they were both there . . . at the same time . . . in the same room, filtered in and awkwardness ensued. Holy crap. The last few months had been tense anyway, but the last real communication with them had been when Bryce kissed me, and I left to cuddle with Corrigan in his hospital bed. I’d been on lockdown from almost everyone, and the times when I talked to Bryce or Corrigan hadn’t been about us. Grace. Corrigan’s health. Bryce’s soccer training. Those had been the conversation topics, and now, well, everyone knew the new turn in Grace’s murder investigation. Call me foolish, but I didn’t want to talk about it the first night they got there. What that left was what was going on among all of us and glancing at each of them, seeing the clenched jaw, fisted hands, tight shoulders, I knew they weren’t eager either.
“Well.” This was lovely. “Guys, want to get drunk and watch a movie?”
“Yes.”
“God yes.” Bryce groaned.
We headed for the basement. When I showed them the movie theater, Corrigan’s eyebrows went up. “Sheldon, this is a real theater.”
I nodded. “My dad’s rich.” I paused. “Really rich.”
The screen was mounted on one entire wall with leather couches set up in eight rows. Each end of the couch had a chair that lounged back and placeholders between the couches for drinks and snacks. Opening a cupboard, blankets were folded and piled high. I gestured to them. “If you guys get cold.” Then I indicated a set of closed closet doors in the back of the room. Opening them, a bar was exposed with glasses hanging on the wall, and a good selection of beer and alcohol stored below in the refrigerator. Blue lights displayed the bar, so if the room was dark, we could still see what alcohol we were grabbing and pouring.
Corrigan laughed. “I’ve never been a huge fan of your dad’s, but I think I now have a Neil Crush. Shit, Sheldon. I see where you get your love for booze.”
Bryce chuck
led. “We’ve always known. Half the time we got drunk, it was from her dad’s liquor cabinet.”
Um. I looked down. Half the time Bryce and I had gotten drunk, it was from my dad’s liquor cabinet . . . not Corrigan. Those had also been the times we ended the night in bed and some of the times during the afternoon, too. I kept quiet. I wasn’t going to clarify that for them.
Corrigan did, though. He barked out an abrupt laugh. “Right. That must’ve been your time together, the two of you. I know I usually brought my own alcohol over.” He turned to me, pinning me in place with his gaze. “Or we got booze from The Café Diner. That was our tradition, apparently.”
Bryce was quiet, and I had to admit I was relieved. Clapping my hands together, I looked around for the remote. “Well, then. How about a horror film?” I laughed. “It’d be appropriate for us.”
I said it, and then I waited. My heart dropped. The joke wasn’t a good one, and when I only heard silence from them, I knew they agreed. I shrugged. “What? Not even a pity laugh?”
Corrigan pressed his lips together and turned away.
Bryce shook his head, sighing. “Are you serious?”
“Come on. It’s fucking awkward right now.”
Corrigan looked back. “Yeah, guess whose fault that is? Not him or me. I know that much.”
Bryce jerked his head up and down, and as the two were now standing next to each other, both turned toward me, waiting for my response, I didn’t like this image. They were gorgeous. Bryce’s jet-black hair had grown out, but not much. He had it spiked up, while Corrigan’s hair had a little curl in it. Bryce was wearing a black shirt and jeans, and Corrigan had on a white polo over jeans. Both of them were lean with an athletic build, but Bryce had more definition. His soccer training had built his body into a machine that was for speed and strength, but he was so damn alert. His eyes were clear and focused solely on me, while Corrigan had a hurtful glint in his. However, they were still waiting for my response as I continued to stand and admire them.