by Wendi Wilson
“We want to taste you,” Slade says, licking his lips as he takes another step forward.
My eyes flit to Silas and he’s wearing a matching expression. One that says he’s starving and I’m the last morsel of food on Earth. He tugs his bottom lip into his mouth and bites it.
I know what they’re doing.
They’re trying to make me afraid, play on all the old fears the Purist Church instilled in me. They want me to use that fear to stop them. To keep their pearly white teeth away from my neck.
But fear is not what I feel. My breathing grows more shallow and rapid with every small step they take. My eyes flit between them and heat pools in my center, making me shift my weight from foot to foot. Good God, I must be crazy. These two boys are coming at me like they want to eat me alive and I can’t think of anything I want more than to let them.
Assuming one heightened emotion is as good as another, I say, “Stop,” but the word is weak. I don’t want them to stop.
Slade smiles and the effect is positively electric, sending a shock wave rippling through my body. Silas flips his blonde hair back, snagging my attention from his brother. His eyes are smoldering, and I have no idea how I’m not engulfed in flames already.
Or maybe I am.
“What’s going on in here?”
And just like that, the moment is gone.
“Nothing, Wyatt,” Silas says, turning on a heel and heading back to the couch as Wyatt and his brothers walk into the room.
“Didn’t look like nothing,” Wyatt responds, one eyebrow raised.
“You okay, Lizzie?” Beckett asks.
“Yeah,” I breathe, stifling the disappointment coursing through me.
I want to know what would’ve happened had the Pattons not interrupted. As Slade explains what we were doing and why they were basically stalking me, my mind rails against my body.
Getting involved with two boys at once, and brothers no less, is wrong. Who knows if they would even be into that? Just because it works for Jett, Beckett and Wyatt doesn’t mean it would work for the Madsen brothers. It shouldn’t work for me.
But my body is a strong-willed bitch and she wants them both. She doesn’t want to choose.
“Lizzie?”
The sound of my name pulls me from my thoughts, and I shake my head to clear it. “Huh?”
“I said, I’m sorry it didn’t work,” Silas says.
I wave it off. “I’m not. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable with that kind of power, anyway.”
“Well,” Jett says, “we know you have to power to break persuasion. And that may come in handy, especially if Uncle Earl manages to coerce Savanna into helping him.”
“We’ll get her back,” I say.
He nods at me, his eyes thanking me for my support. I return the nod, then check the time on my phone. It’s early and I haven’t had dinner, but I’m exhausted. Physically and emotionally.
“I’m going to head to bed,” I tell the room at large.
I get a chorus of good nights from the Pattons as Silas and Slade walk me to the foot of the stairs.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Slade asks, worry shining in his eyes. “We didn’t mean to freak you out.”
“Yeah,” Silas adds, “we’re sorry if we did.”
“No,” I say, looking from one to the other, “you didn’t freak me out. I’m just tired.”
“Okay, well, good night, then,” Silas says.
“Sweet dreams,” Slade adds.
They look… hopeful. Like maybe, just maybe, I might give them a good night kiss.
I chirp out a high-pitched good night and beat a hasty retreat up the stairs. Now I’m projecting my desires on them. They don’t want a kiss from me.
I want one from them.
I’m in way over my head.
20
“Damn it all to hell!”
I flinch. Jett has been cursing for twenty minutes, every time a car passes us and isn’t the tow truck we ordered half an hour ago. His brothers tried talking him down the first few times, but by this point, they’re just as angry as he is.
Mrs. Madsen agreed to let us take her van this morning, and we were half way to D.C. when we heard and felt the thump-thump-thump of a flat tire. The boys piled out to change it and found the spare tire, but there was no jack. A call to Silas and Slade’s mom confirmed it— the jack was in the garage, right where Silas and Slade had left it after changing the last flat tire.
“The tow truck will be here soon,” Slade says, attempting to give Jett some reassurance.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Wyatt snaps, his mouth twisted into a snarl. “It’s not the girl you love out there, alone, facing God knows what.”
“He won’t hurt her,” I say, sounding as confident as possible.
“You don’t know that for sure. Do you, Lizzie? He’s crazy. There’s no telling what he’ll make her do,” Jett yells. “Or what he’ll do to her if she doesn’t cooperate.”
“I don’t think—”
“You don’t think,” he says, cutting me off. “That’s the problem. You didn’t think when you agreed to help our uncle. You didn’t think when you did all those nasty things to Savanna. And you didn’t think when you found out what she had planned and just left without warning us. You. Don’t. Think.”
I snap my mouth shut during his tirade, and by the last three words, my eyes are burning with tears I can’t quite hold back. I want to argue, to defend myself, but I can’t. He’s right. Everything he just accused me of is correct. I followed Brother Earl blindly, not thinking for myself. Then yesterday, it didn’t even occur to me to tell the boys what Savanna planned to do to them.
“Knock it off, Jett,” Slade says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Stay out of this, Slade,” Jett retorts.
“You’re out of line, Jett,” Silas snaps out before Slade can respond. “Lizzie knows she was wrong to help your uncle and she’s made up for that. As far as Savanna’s decision to persuade you, it was just that. Savanna’s decision. It wasn’t Lizzie’s place to tell you. Plus, if she had, she would have been betraying Savanna all over again.”
Jett opens his mouth to respond, but the roar of an engine catches his attention and he says, “Oh, thank God,” instead.
The tow truck is here.
I catch first the eye of Silas, then that of Slade, and give them each a grateful smile. They both smile back and nod before turning to help supervise the tow truck driver as he jacks up the van to put on the spare tire for us.
Beckett materializes beside me, speaking in low tones, “Don’t take what he said to heart. My brother is freaking out and when he loses control over any situation, he lashes out. You’re an easy target, and he was out of line. I’m sorry he did that.”
“It’s not your fault,” I murmur, touched that he’s trying to make me feel better.
After all, Jett only spoke the truth.
He starts to say something else but is cut off when Jett orders everyone to get back in the car. I look over to see the van back on four wheels as Jett counts out a few bills and hands them over to the tow truck driver.
“That was fast,” I mumble as I climb in and take a seat in the third row.
“I persuaded him to hurry,” Wyatt said, climbing in behind me and taking one of the two captain’s chairs in the middle.
“Good,” I reply, earning a shocked look from him. “What? We are in a hurry and it was for a good reason… to save Savanna, not for selfish reasons or personal gain.”
Wyatt’s smile grows as I defend my stance on his use of persuasion. Slade climbs in and sits down beside me. Grabbing my elbow, he tugs me toward him as Silas makes his way to the seat on my other side.
Wyatt arches a brow, his smile turning downright devilish as his eyes move from me and the boys to the empty seat beside him and back to us again. Shaking his head, he turns around and says something to Beckett, who’s riding shotgun.
Silas and Slade buckle their sea
tbelts before Silas reaches down, slipping his hand between us. I lift my hip, giving him space so his hand isn’t touching my butt, but the movement brings me closer to Slade. I can’t prove it, but I swear he leans in and breathes deep, like he’s inhaling my scent.
Silas comes up with my lap belt and leans across me to click it into place on my other side. The smell of oranges wafts up from his hair and my breathing falters at the unanticipated scent. I’ve grown to expect the woodsy odor of his cologne, but the fresh citrus smell is… intoxicating. He must notice, because he freezes before turning his head slightly to look into my eyes.
My lungs seize up as time stops. I can feel his breath against my mouth, his lips mere centimeters away from mine. I hear more than see his tongue dart out to wet them as his hand moves from where it just latched my seatbelt and makes its way up to my face.
His fingertips whisper against the skin of my cheek as the car jerks forward, breaking the spell that has been weaving its way around us. Silas turns and leans back into his seat. I refuse to turn my head to confirm, but I can hear his breathing and it’s just as ragged as mine is.
Fingers ghosting across my opposite hand pull my attention to Slade. I glance at his smiling face for a brief moment before focusing on my lap, where his lightly tanned fingers are interlacing with my darker ones. The heat of his palm travels up my arm before sending little shocks straight to my heart, making it stutter.
Movement on my right catches my eye, and I watch as Silas takes my other hand, lacing our fingers together the same way his brother did. More heat. More electricity. More heart palpitations.
For a split second, I panic, worried that the others will see me holding hands with both boys. But then, I remember who I’m with. The Patton triplets are in a four-way relationship with Savanna and have no qualms about everyone knowing. If anyone judges me for wanting more than one person, it won’t be them.
Feeling confident, or crazy, or a combination of both, I move my thumbs, lightly caressing the skin of Silas’s and Slade’s own digits. Slade shifts, bringing his hip and thigh closer to mine before pulling our clasped hands from my lap to his. Silas doesn’t move, other than to turn his head toward me so he can study my profile.
I keep my gaze focused straight ahead.
“Hey, uh, Lizzie?”
Jett’s voice pulls my attention to the front of the van, where he sits behind the wheel. I meet his eyes in the rear-view mirror and he continues, “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“It’s okay,” I say, but he shakes his head.
“No, it’s not. I’m scared for Savanna and when I’m scared, I tend to lash out at those around me. I didn’t mean any of it. I don’t blame you for her decisions and I think it says a lot about you, and how much you’ve changed, that you held her confidence even though you disagreed with her. You’re a good friend to her.”
“Thanks,” I reply, my voice cracking with emotion.
Identical squeezes on each of my hands pull my focus back to the Madsen twins. I start to fret, second guessing my choices and wondering what the hell I’m doing. I should pull my hands away, create some distance between us. Or, at least, as much distance as there can be with the three of us smooshed into the back seat together.
But, I don’t. In fact, I tighten my grip, hanging onto those boys like the lifeline they are. If I let them, they could each be a rock for me to lean on. A lighthouse in the raging storm my life has become. A soft place to lay my head when I make it ashore. They could be everything to me— everything I want and everything I could possibly need.
But only if I allow them. When this is all over, I’ll have some decisions to make. For now, though, I let them hold my hands, taking the comfort they give. I also welcome the heat. The electricity. The swarm of bees beating their wings against my insides. I welcome it all.
I have to pee, my back is stiff, and my palms are sweaty, but I’ve never felt so alive.
It’s been two hours since we got the flat tire changed, and we haven’t made a stop since. About an hour ago, Slade dozed off, still clasping my palm against his on his thigh. Silas fell asleep soon after, his head tilting until it rested on my shoulder.
So here I’ve been, one boy basically curled around me with our joined hands in my lap and his cheek resting against my shoulder, his brother plastered against my side, his thigh resting beneath my arm.
For pretty much two hours, my body has flashed from hot to cold and back again, over and over, as I thought about the boys and the things they might want to do to me. With me. Or the things I may want to do to them in return. Then I’d remember where I am and who I’m with and freeze, wondering if my spicy thoughts were written all over my face.
None of the Pattons seemed to be paying any attention to what was happening back here, so I relax, my thoughts would start to trail off again and repeat the cycle. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about it, especially with Silas’s citrusy scent in my nostrils and Slade’s grip shooting electric tingles up my arm.
The car slows as Jett prepares to pull off the highway, and the two boys rouse from their sleep. Silas lifts his head from my shoulder with a jerk before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He shoots me an apologetic look before leaning back against the seat, his body stretching out as he yawns behind his hand.
The hem of his shirt lifts, and the strip of bare skin the action reveals draws my eyes like a magnet. I watch as lean muscles shift and contract, then bounce as a breathy chuckle meets my ears. My eyes fly to his, the silver orbs practically glowing with intensity.
“Hey,” Slade says, breaking my frozen stare-down with his brother. “Sorry, I must have fallen asleep,” he continues when I look over at him.
“It’s okay,” I mumble.
Wyatt turns around and looks at me, a knowing grin on his face. I narrow my eyes at him and his grin doubles in size before he shakes his head and turns back toward the front. Apparently, my level of contentment at being sandwiched between the Madsens and having them pressed against me didn’t go completely unnoticed. At least Wyatt didn’t make any jokes about it.
I pull my phone from my pocket to check the time. “It’s eleven-fifteen,” I say aloud to no one in particular.
“I know,” Jett says, turning onto another street. “We’re behind schedule because of the flat tire, but we should still catch her before Earl gets to her.”
I look out the window and spot the Washington Monument in the distance. We’re really close. The Lincoln Memorial is just beyond it, along the bank of the Potomac River. If these were different circumstances, I’d really enjoy visiting our nation’s capital and exploring all the historic landmarks.
But the circumstances are what they are. We can’t sightsee. We have to save Savanna from Brother Earl… and herself. I know she thinks she’s doing the right thing— persuading the boys to keep them safe, sacrificing herself, saving her parents— but she’s wrong. We’re stronger together. The seven of us, as a unit, can overcome anything Brother Earl throws at us. I know it in my soul. It just feels right.
Before I know it, we’re parking and the Pattons are hopping from the car before it even fully stops. I check the time again. It’s eleven-thirty. We have to hurry. The parking lot Jett found is several blocks from the memorial.
Slade grabs my hand as we start to run toward the river. Silas falls into step on my other side, and we follow closely behind Jett, Wyatt, and Beckett. The triplets skid to halt as we reach the steps that lead up to the giant statue of Abraham Lincoln. Each of their heads bounce from side to side, identical look of panic etched across their faces.
“Where is she?” Beckett cries as he runs up the steps, dodging tourists.
The rest of us follow behind him, scanning every face in the area. There’s no sign of Savanna, Brother Earl, or any of his henchmen. Maybe we missed them. The thought sends chills down my spine and I pump my legs even harder.
At the top, the boys spread out, leaving me alone by the feet of our sixteenth presi
dent. My breaths huff in and out as I try to ignore the stitch in my side. Wyatt calls out to me while waving me over to where he is. I rush over and the other guys get to the spot at the same time as me.
“Let’s go check by the reflecting pool,” he says.
“Good idea,” Beckett responds as we all turn and rush back down the stairs.
At the bottom, Wyatt veers left, racing toward the water. As we race along the edge, checking the shady benches, a flash of blonde hair catches my eye and I skid to a stop, looking across the pool. I gasp and yell, “Wait!” and the five boys run back toward me. I point at the couple striding toward the street on the other side of the pool.
It’s them. Savanna and Brother Earl. Before another thought can even cross my mind, the boys take off the way we came, rounding the edge of the pool. The Madsens keep their pace slower, staying by my side so I don’t get left behind.
They’re not fast enough. The thought spurs me on, finding strength and energy I didn’t know I possessed while making my feet fly along the pavement. A black SUV screeches to a stop on the street, the rear door flinging open.
“Savanna!” Jett screams.
Both she and Earl whip around, their mouths dropping open. Earl comes to his senses first, grabs Savanna and shoves her into the waiting vehicle. Diving in behind her, the door barely slams shut before the SUV drives away in a flurry of screeching tires and burnt rubber.
We slow our steps, halting with palms braced on knees and heavy breaths rushing in and out of our mouths. My eyes burn, whether from the wind or disappointment, I’m not sure.
“Damn it!” Wyatt shouts.
“What do we do now?” Beckett asks, his face a mask of desperation and fear.
Silas crosses his arms over his chest, his face thoughtful. “I think I may have an idea,” he says, rocking back on his heels. “I think it may just work.”
21
I can’t believe that actually worked.
We’re on the road, headed to some house out in the middle of nowhere, hopes high that we’ll find Savanna and her parents safe and sound. They have to be there.