by Willow, Jo
“All of us know the whole sordid story Tony. We don’t keep secrets or suffer through surprises. You should go, I’m serious. The alarm’s triggered. They’ll be here soon. Maybe I should kick your ass again to make sure you spend some time being someone’s Sub in prison, eh?”
He was making tracks towards the elevator, reality seeping in through his pain. He pressed the button and turned back to me. I was testing my weight on my injured foot and it was a no go.
“You fucking bitch. I’ll get you for this. When I’m through with her, you’re right there at the top of my list.”
“Oh now THAT’S original. Watching late night ‘B’ movies much? Fucking bitch? Like I haven’t been called THAT before. Piss off Marconi before I change into my combat boots.”
The door opened and he staggered inside.
I wobbled into my condo and closed the door without locking it. I stepped out of my shoes before my foot swelled up so badly that I couldn’t. My back to the wall next to the alarm that was blinking a red light, I slid down the wall until I was seated near the door and watched my foot swell. Not exactly the ending of the perfect day that I was hoping for, but at least our biggest fear at the moment had been confronted. I, at least, knew what we were dealing with. I remembered the way he looked at me. The way he’d changed on a dime. I thought of sweet little Ayla and wondered how she’d survived him for so long. And then I thought about something else that made me shiver. Something that I’d never admit to any of the rest of them. I saw why she spent her time with him being submissive. It wasn’t that he was gorgeous. I could handle gorgeous men, I’d spent my entire dating life doing it. It was his power, his presence, his attitude. It was the combination that made you afraid of what could happen if you didn’t submit. If you added attraction to the mix, it would’ve been close to impossible to resist. And if you were nineteen and inexperienced, resistance would have been futile.
A tear rolled down my cheek and I swiped it away with the back of my hand. I told myself that I was crying because I was in pain, and I was. But that was a half-truth. I was crying for a young and naive Ayla that had fallen in with that monster when she was the most vulnerable she could ever be. Then I felt rage. White hot rage. He said I was at the “top” of his list? He didn’t have a fucking clue. Because as of that moment? He was at the top of mine too.
Chapter Six
The door swung open and the sound of Burl Ives singing “Holly Jolly Christmas” came ringing out the door. I hated that damned song. It was irrational and grounded in absolutely nothing, but I hated it anyway.
I plastered a fake smile on my face and tried to maneuver the crutches through the doorframe. I was always two steps from falling flat on my face with those damned things. I never got the timing right on the swing-plant-hop thing. Plus, the cast was heavy.
Grant tried to help me by putting an arm around my waist, but Anton pulled him back.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you dad. It throws her balance off and she might kick you for your effort.”
I shot Anton one of those Godzilla death ray looks and he shut up. Grant hurried to the sofa to clear a space, then took the crutches I offered while I took a seat. He used one of the sofa pillows to prop my cast up on the coffee table. I loved that man. If I spent a million years trying to figure it out, I’d never understand how he and a woman as wonderful as Bree, produced something like Anton.
Speaking of which, he was rocking on his feet with his hands in his pockets, wearing a bright red sweater that only one of the Sloan boys could pull off. On anyone else, it would’ve looked like phoney Christmas cheer. Pierce was wearing a forest green one and Deacon wore black. Head to toe. Like my mood. Deacon was now my favorite Sloan.
My least favorite smiled at his father and winked before he turned to me. I knew it was coming. Hyenas can’t help but laugh. He spoke to his dad, but his eyes stayed on me.
“Go on Dad. Ask her how she broke her foot.”
I narrowed my eyes and reached for one of my crutches that Grant had braced against the sofa next to me. It was longer than he thought and I’d already proven that my aim was true.
“Shut the fuck up Anton.”
He grinned at looked at his father, like an idiot. Never turn your back on an armed woman with motive people. THAT should be the first rule of Fight Club.
“She kicked a giant in the nuts. THEN, while he was DOWN, she kicked him in the face. She was wearing those pointy-toed high heels that women wear to impress men. I bet he was impressed alright.”
Grants face swung toward me just as I had a crutch cocked and aimed at his son. His eyes grew huge and Anton, sensing the threat, jerked his head my way and then jumped back out of range. Traitorous fast bastard.
Grant sat down next to me and gently took the crutch from my ironclad grip while I was back to making Godzilla eyes at Anton.
“Oh my lord Melody! You poor sweetheart! I was going to say I was getting used to seeing you in plaster accessories, but this is no laughing matter. Sweetheart, are you okay?”
Pierce came over with his arm around Ayla.
“She’s probably doing better than him.”
Grant looked up at his youngest son, his thumb stroking the back of my hand as he tried to relax me. It was working.
“What do you mean, probably?”
“He got away. The man that’s stalking Ayla disappeared again. We’re back to looking for a dangerous shadow.”
Ayla stepped closer into Pierce and he kissed the top of her head, an obvious show of affection that none of us was used to seeing. I could tell by the look on Grant’s face as he witnessed it, that it pleased him. Then Anton had to open his trap.
“By the way Hopalong there describes it, the shadow is massive and massively pissed. She’s now on his hit list, just under Ayla.”
Grant looked horrified.
“He hurt her! He broke her foot!”
Anton rolled his eyes and accepted the cup of eggnog that Deacon handed him.
“No, SHE broke her foot. The stupid cow opened her door to a dangerous stranger and made him angry. She refuses to learn her lesson. He could’ve broken her damned neck, but will she listen? No. Everyone warned her that he was out there and he was stalking Ayla so he definitely knew where she worked. Did that stop Muhammad Ali over there? No. She decided to tickle the fighter.”
I sat there and listened to him malign me to his father. I could have stopped him, but I didn’t want to. I was hearing how he really felt. He was holding nothing back and spoke in total disregard to my feelings. I felt another chunk of my heart break away as it joined the one he broke off when he walked in with the slut at my sister’s dinner party. The conclusion was closing in on me. The only one I could make. He didn’t care about me at all. I truly was nothing but a booty call to him and always would be. If he could kick me when I was down, there was no other conclusion to reach. He had no idea if I was in pain or scared, and he didn’t care.
I started to see him through a blurry haze and I knew my eyes were watering up. Would I let those tears fall? No fucking way. I’d never shed another tear for Anton Sloan. Although he’d never seen me shed all the tears I’d cried for him so far, I’d make sure he didn’t get that satisfaction now. He wasn’t worth it, and I was worth so much more.
I hadn’t realized that Deacon had left the room until he was handing me something in a crystal punch cup. Austin was right behind him with two more cups in his hand. He handed one to Pierce and one to Ayla, who smiled in gratitude.
Deacon had heard his brother’s tirade and wasn’t as eager to let it lie as I was.
“Well if you ask me, I think she was brave. She took on someone three times her size and she put him on the ground. He won’t be forgetting what she’s capable of anytime soon, that’s for sure.”
He winked at me and held up his cup in a mock toast. I smiled shyly. In that one defensive move, he became my brother. Not my brother-in-law, but a true brother. I’d have Deacon’s back for the rest of his life, even i
f he didn’t realize it yet.
I smelled the cup, hoping it wasn’t what I thought it was. No such luck. It was eggnog. I toyed with the carved crystal design without bringing it to my lips. I thought no one would notice. When Deacon cocked his head, my eyes went huge, willing him to hold his tongue. I forgot for a second that he was a Sloan.
“Something wrong with the eggnog Mel’? It’s homemade, mom makes it every year from scratch.”
Grant noticed I hadn’t touched it and chimed in.
“Try it sweetheart. It’ll put you in the festive spirit.”
I brought the cup to my knee, unable to even stand the scent of it any longer.
“I can’t. Eggnog is too thick. I can’t swallow it, it gets stuck in my throat.”
Anton did a spit-take right out of the movies. His pretty red sweater was now peppered with thick white goo and it only took me a minute to figure out where his dirty mind went when I spoke. He shot daggers at me and I caught them and fired them right back. Luckily, no one else caught the thread of his thoughts, or if they did, they were too kind to comment.
Deacon leaned over and took the cup from me and smiled. Oh he got it alright. His devilish grin told me so. I was mortified.
He stood and finished his own cup.
“There’s mulled wine or hot buttered rum if you’d rather have that. Just name your poison and I’ll get it for you.”
I opened my mouth and Anton’s voice came out.
“She can’t have alcohol, she’s on pain pills. Bring her a soda or a cup of coffee.”
“Wow. My lips didn’t even move”, I said and Grant stifled a laugh.
Anton didn’t find it amusing at all.
“You know you can’t have alcohol with the pain killers Mel’. You could hurt yourself and we’re out here in the middle of nowhere. Use your brain for once.”
That was it. I was hurting in more ways than one, and the cause of my deepest pain was still taking pot shots at me.
“I’d rather use my crutch and shove it up your ass. Why don’t you come a little closer Anton. Let me show you what a real woman does when she’s scorned.”
He chuffed and downed his eggnog.
“Scorned? When did you turn into a Jane Austen novel?”
This was getting us nowhere and making everyone around us uncomfortable. I started to stand and Grant assisted me to my feet before handing me my crutches.
“Where am I sleeping Grant? I think I need to pop a handful of pills and lay down for awhile.”
“Drama queen much?”
I heard his jab, even if Anton did mumble it. Deacon slapped him on the back of the head and I wanted to kiss him. Instead I ignored them both.
“I put you in the office with Ayla. There’s comfortable beds in there this time sweetheart and you don’t have to climb stairs. Do you remember where it is? Do you need help?”
I was already hobbling towards the hall that led to his office.
“No, I’m good. If Deacon could get my suitcase in there at some point, that would help a lot. Thanks.”
Deacon shoved Anton aside with more force than was necessary and grabbed the handle of my suitcase and the garment bag that was draped over it.
“I’ll walk her in Dad. Go make sure Mom and Dorothy don’t need any help.”
Grant smiled and went toward the kitchen while Deacon kept me company down the hall. When he got to the office, he reached around me and opened the door, following me in. He placed my things on a bed and turned to face me.
“I don’t understand him Mel’ and never have. I won’t lie. I don’t understand why you keep letting him close enough to get to you.”
I looked him in the eye and gave the answer that I wasn’t sure I believed myself.
“I thought he was my soulmate Deke. I thought that someday we might have what you have with my sister. I can see his potential, even if he can’t. Somewhere in that cold black heart of his, I thought he loved me.”
“Like you love him?”
I froze, but me being me, I didn’t back down.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I was wrong. Anton will never love anyone but Anton. I know that for sure now and I’ll get over it. I’ll get over him.”
“So that’s it then? I’m not surprised by your decision, I’m only surprised that it took you that long to make it. You sound certain.”
I gave a resigned grin and sat down heavily on the bed. The day had exhausted me and the wrist that had been broken ached from gripping the crutches and supporting my weight.
“I am certain. Self flagellation can only go on so long before you look stupid and people start to pity you. I’ve hit that point. I don’t need pity and I don’t want it. I walked into this and I’ll walk out of it. I’ll be fine Deke, don’t worry about me.”
He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead before he placed his hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him and saw love instead of pity. I patted his hand and smiled.
“Melody if you need anything - and I do mean anything - ice cream, wine, a shoulder to vent on, you call me. Nobody knows the excrement that is Anton like I do. I’ll bash him right along with you.”
I giggled and felt instantly lighter.
“Thank-you big brother. I’ll keep that in mind.”
He winked at me and turned to leave. Before he opened the door, nostalgia hit me and I had to tell him.
“Deacon?”
He turned with his eyebrows raised and I saw everything that my sister saw in him.
“I’m glad you and Dorothy found each other. Anton aside, you really are a great guy. You’re a great brother.”
He seemed surprised and a bit embarrassed, but he wore it well.
“And you’re a great little sister Mel’. I love you. You know that, right?”
“I know and I love you too. Now go take care of my sister. I need a nap.”
He smiled and left me alone.
I was more exhausted than I thought. I woke up to a dark room and something else. I didn’t move a muscle, except whichever ones it takes to roll your eyes. Ayla’s voice cut through the silence.
“Wrong bed Anton. Wait. Is that mayonnaise? It had better be mayonnaise that you just accidentally smeared on my shoulder...”
“Sorry Ay’. I came in to check on Mel’ and bring her a sandwich. She missed dinner and she’s on drugs. Didn’t want her throwing up or anything.”
“Uh-huh. She’s over there.”
I heard a bed creak so I assumed Ayla was turning over to ignore him. I waited without moving and then I felt a dip in the bed at my side. His loud stage whisper was as subtle as a cannon.
“Mel’? Wake-up hon’. You need to eat something. I brought you milk too.”
“Anton, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, what the hell are you doing here?”
I pulled myself into a sitting position and he placed a plate on my lap and a glass on the small filing cabinet next to the bed that was acting as a nightstand.
“I brought you a turkey sandwich and some chips. You need to eat something and nobody wanted to wake you.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s closing in on midnight. Everyone else went to bed.”
I reached for half of the sandwich and took a bite. It was just the way I like it and I wondered how he knew. Then I wondered why he’d bothered.
I mumbled around a mouthful of moist, delicious turkey. I was starving and my stomach didn’t care if I was mad at Anton or not. It wanted Turkey.
“Why are you feeding me? What’s the catch?”
I could see him staring at his hands in the moonlight. He couldn’t meet my eyes and that was a new one.
“My dad and brothers handed me my own ass after you left.”
He looked up then and I could see amazement in his eyes.
“Deacon threatened to kill me if I ever hurt your feelings again. He’s never threatened me before in our whole lives. Not even when I was a kid. That guy is dangerous Mel’.”
&nbs
p; My sandwich was gone and he started helping himself to my chips. I took a sip of milk while it was still cold. There’s nothing like milk from a cow that was probably milked that morning. I crunched a chip and felt dizzy from the flavor that was dancing on my tongue.
“These chips are worth gold. Where did your mom get them?”
“She made them. She starts making her own kettle chips a week before we invade, then drowns them in sea salt.”
“Holy crap. Next you’ll be telling me she dips her own candles and makes her own soap down by the see-ment pond.”
He chuffed a laugh and grabbed a few more.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings Mel’. I’m used to the way we’re able to speak our minds to one another and I didn’t think about how it sounded until it was out there. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. You said it like you felt it. Now I know.”
He pinned me with a stare that he only used when he was about to issue an order or say something I’d better pay close attention to.
“You say that like I don’t care about you. Like you’ve based some decision on something I said. I do care about you and that’s why I said it. I just said it wrong. Mel’, you’ve got five men doing their damndest to protect you and Ayla. You know the danger and you were smart enough to press the panic button on the alarm. Then you opened the door, KNOWING who was standing on the other side! You have got to stop being impulsively stupid. You should have kept talking to him through the door until the cops arrived. If you had, this would be over already. Instead, he’s walking around with a grudge and you’ve got a broken foot. We’re no closer to catching him and you can’t even run away from him if he finds you out and alone. What the fuck is the matter with you?”
He ran his hands through his hair in frustration and blew out a breath.
“If he’d laid a hand on you, we’d be talking on visiting days through plexiglass. I’d have killed him Mel’. I swear to god I would have killed the bastard.”
He was serious. It was written all over him. I put the empty plate on the cabinet next to my empty milk glass and cupped his cheek. He leaned into the touch and sighed.