by Mia Ashlinn
The quaver in his voice was like a lance to her heart, and Shannon trembled.
Predictably, none of her friends followed Randy’s order, which, not surprisingly, seemed to piss him off. He grunted. Yet again, no one responded. So Shannon turned to him and said, “Can you give us a minute?” Before he spoke, she added, “I promise we’ll talk about this as soon as they leave.”
Even though I’d rather you killed me now.
At first, Randy hesitated. But after a moment, he replied with a deep frown, “Okay. Just keep in mind, we will talk about all of this bullshit later when Jared and Drew are around.” Then he was gone, taking off through the back door with an uneasy, heavy stride. She had a very bad feeling that he was going to get his brothers now. But she couldn’t dwell on that at the moment.
When the door slammed shut and they were alone, Katie-Anne said exactly what Shannon had expected. “Let’s go check on the babies.”
Unlike earlier when Randy had told them not so subtly to leave, all of the women shuffled out of the room, including Shannon. They headed down the hallway in a close cluster. None of them spoke. They barely breathed loud enough to be audible to Shannon.
They curved around the banister then mounted the stairs. Trudging up each step, the women took far longer than necessary to get to the room Shannon had set up for when she babysat Ava, Mason, and Kane.
When they stepped in front of the makeshift nursery, Katie-Anne shushed them even though no one had said a word. She peered through the gap Shannon had left open earlier and nodded. “They’re still asleep,” she murmured. “Let’s go in the other room. We have a lot to talk about.”
Chapter 5
Katie-Anne cast a sigh as she closed the door to the master bedroom behind her. She immediately joined Jaycee and Shannon at the top of the huge bed, scooting back until she hit the mound of fluffy pillows. She situated herself so that she faced Ella’s spot on the floor and Sarah’s position in the chair. Crossing her arms over her stomach, she clasped her fingers together. “So what the hell is going on?” she demanded.
“I’m having a lovely morning with my husbands when I get several texts, a couple of voice messages, and numerous calls. I hightail it over here to find something out, and you three”—she paused long enough to point at Jaycee, Ella, and Sarah before continuing on—“are acting strange while she”—she stopped midsentence a second time to thumb her finger at Shannon—“is apparently on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Someone needs to tell me what the fuck is going on. And they need to do it now.”
Katie-Anne heard the whine in her voice. She heard the bitchiness. But it didn’t deter her. She had things to find out, and she would do it one way or the other.
An unexpected knock on the door surprised Katie-Anne, and she jumped. She wasn’t the only one. All of the girls in the room jerked abruptly. But before any of them had a chance to verbally respond to the unexpected visitor, the door knob jingled and jangled then turned and was pushed forward. A second didn’t pass before the door widened enough for a person to pop in.
Sticking her blonde head inside the room, Brooklyn said, “I came by to…” She trailed off as though unsure of what to say or do, which was completely out of the norm for the beautiful blue-eyed woman. The town’s resident psychic, or at least one of them, was rarely at a loss. She obviously was now.
Katie-Anne and Brooklyn had grown closer since she’d returned to Serenity in January. At first, their friendship came about because Katie-Anne believed that Brooklyn had helped guide her back into her husbands’ arms. After that, their relationship flourished through the complications in Katie-Anne’s pregnancy. Of course, she figured that was because she’d relied heavily on the unusual woman’s abilities to keep her sanity while she’d struggled with pregnancy-induced hypertension then the resulting preeclampsia. But it was more than that. She’d discovered that she genuinely liked Brooklyn. She was intriguing and oddly fun.
“Come in, Brooklyn,” Katie-Anne said warmly, hoping that her friend’s presence would help in some way. “I was just about to find out what the fuck is going on.”
Surprisingly, Brooklyn didn’t hesitate. She came in straightaway. Following the most direct path, she walked over to the bed then perched herself at the bottom. She sat stiffly, her body vibrating with a tension that Katie-Anne had never seen the generally unflappable woman have before. “I need to tell you all something,” she blurted out unexpectedly. Then she reached into her purse and extracted a white envelope. Rather than holding onto the envelope though, she offered it to Katie-Anne.
Dying to know what was in the mysterious envelope, Katie-Anne bent at the waist and stretched forward until she could reach Brooklyn’s outstretched arm. She yanked the long, flat paper container out of her friend’s hand then sucked in a hissing breath of air. She ripped open the envelope, pulled out the paper, and was speed-reading through the garbage Leila had written before anyone could utter a word.
As she read through the note, the room went eerily quiet, which was saying something considering the long stretches of silence they’d had over the past fifteen minutes. She felt five sets of stressed-out eyes boring holes into her skull as though they could pull out her thoughts by sheer will alone. But thankfully, they couldn’t. Otherwise, they would see what a furious Katie-Anne was capable of. And it wasn’t pretty.
Ah, sweet revenge is mine. Wonder what the art world will think when they realize just who TL Jacobsen is…
Katie-Anne gasped, reading the menacing words in her note and then rereading them once again. What kind of child would resort to this level of pettiness? Obviously Leila.
“You might want to check the back,” Ella suggested, knowingly. “That’s where all of our”—she halted suddenly and air quoted—“presents have been.”
“Except mine,” Sarah piped up, her soft, tiny voice barely audible as she mumbled over her declaration.
Katie-Anne made a mental note to find out what exactly Sarah had meant. But first, she had to find out what The Bitch had done to her personally. Turning over the card, Katie-Anne cursed. It was an article clipping. More specifically, it was an exposé on TL Jacobsen and Katie-Anne Blakemore for one of the art world’s leading magazines. Fuck. Rafe is going to be livid.
Katie-Anne did not realize she’d spoken her international art dealer’s name aloud until Brooklyn flinched unexpectedly and shocked everyone. What the hell? She’s never even met him. Has she?
“No,” Brooklyn muttered, answering Katie-Anne’s inaudible question. “I haven’t.”
Everyone quit gawking at Katie-Anne. They simultaneously slid their gazes to Brooklyn, who angled her head away from them all. She stared off into space as though she saw something none of them could actually see. Then again, knowing her, she was probably having one of her unexplainable visions.
Brooklyn blinked a couple of times then shook her head. The long, straight strands of her hair swished left and right but somehow managed to return to their rightful place. She lifted her feminine hands to her rapidly whitening face and gasped. “Oh no!”
“What?” every woman in the room cried out, their reactions varying from curiosity to irritation to worry to some kind of mix of all of the above.
“You all have a lot you must do before it’s too late,” Brooklyn announced with a grimace.
As much as Katie-Anne adored her friend, she couldn’t help rolling her eyes. She believed what Brooklyn was saying. That wasn’t the problem. The problem stemmed from the way she worded her statement. Like her mother, Svetlana Sokolov, Brooklyn’s predictions generally sounded like a bad psychic at a free carnival. Or if they were lucky, they sounded like a well-worded riddle that made absolutely no sense. Either way, they sucked.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Shannon said as she shifted on the bed, her curvy hip bumping into Katie-Anne’s. She grunted an apology then crossed one ankle over the other.
Jaycee leaned forward, rotating her head to the side until she stared Katie-Anne straig
ht in the eye. “I don’t know about you, but I do not like it when she or her mama says, ‘Oh no!’”
Katie-Anne shook her head. “Me either.”
Like Katie-Anne and Brooklyn, Jaycee had formed a special bond with the psychic who’d helped play matchmaker with her and her two husbands last year. After starting a life-changing game of Truth or Dare, Shannon and Katie-Anne had dared Jaycee to go see a fortune teller. Only they’d played a switcheroo with the fortune tellers. Svetlana had dressed up as Destiny Isgood and given Jaycee a special reading.
After finding out the two men she loved were coming after her, Jaycee ran—like she had been for years. However, she hadn’t realized she was falling right into Gray and Cade’s trap. From what Katie-Anne had heard from her big-mouth best friend, it had taken a little kidnapping, a lot of sweet-talking, and some sweaty sex to win her over. But the two men had done it. Not surprisingly, Jaycee credited Svetlana with most of the work, not Katie-Anne, Shannon, Gray, or Cade. The ungrateful wench.
“Wait,” Ella interjected just in time to keep Katie-Anne and Jaycee from going ADD on the serious conversation. “What do we have to do, Brooklyn? I’m a little puzzled by all this. She’s just pulling childish bullshit. Right?”
Shannon glared at Sarah who never looked her way. Blushing, Sarah mumbled, “I think there’s more to it than that.”
Shannon nodded. “Tell them about the letter,” she commanded, a note of anger twisted with worry in her tone.
Sarah’s sweet face creased with a stricken expression, and she jumped to her feet, moving for the door. But Brooklyn quickly leapt off the bed and blocked Sarah’s exit. Staring Sarah down, Brooklyn seemed to be silently saying something. However, Katie-Anne had no clue what it could be.
Finally Sarah sighed, and Brooklyn stepped out of the path she’d been on. Only Sarah didn’t take it. She pivoted on her heel and went to the window. Without turning around, she said, “I–I–I don’t know how to say this.” Glancing over her shoulder, she shot the most vicious glower at Brooklyn that Katie-Anne had ever seen from her. “Apparently, it’s important to share this with you all.”
Turning away again, Sarah explained, “Leila knows Gavin. She’s seen him…and talked to him. She has the pictures he took after m–my attack.”
“Son of a motherfucking bitch,” Katie-Anne swore, stealing her husbands’ favorite curse phrase. “She what?”
Katie-Anne’s head felt as though it would blow off. That little bitch deserved to die. Her sister-in-law had just been starting to emotionally recover from the attack. And now this? Katie-Anne feared the setback this could cause Sarah. If it did, Katie-Anne would kill Leila. “Off with her head,” came to mind.
Sarah cleared her throat loudly then added, “Shannon saw the pictures she sent, too.”
Oh shit.
Nodding, Shannon agreed, “I did, and so did Adam.”
Katie-Anne closed her eyes and groaned. “That had to go over well.”
“He only saw the pictures,” Sarah stated as though that would make it better.
Apparently thinking the same thing Katie-Anne had, Ella snapped snarkily, “Yeah, ‘cuz that’s going to make it so much better, Sassy.”
Ella’s use of Deke’s nickname for Sarah got everyone’s attention, especially Sarah, who whirled around and scowled at Ella. “I hate that name.”
Bullshit. “Whatever,” Katie-Anne muttered. “It doesn’t matter. We need to figure out what we’re going to do with Leila. She’s never going to leave us alone. This is just the beginning.”
“That’s exactly what I told Ella,” Jaycee remarked as she rubbed her temples. “She isn’t playing around this time. If I didn’t know better, I would think The Bitch has lost her marbles.”
“Did she ever have them?” Shannon asked. “If so, I’d love to know where she kept them.”
“Do you want me to answer that?” Ella inquired, grinning maniacally. “I’m sure I could figure it out—one way or another.”
“Focus,” Sarah snapped. “I would prefer she didn’t show those pictures to the world. But I do not want to do what she is trying to make me do.”
Oh double-dog horse shit. “What exactly is she trying to do?” Katie-Anne asked. She was pretty sure she knew what Leila wanted, but it would be better for her and all parties involved to make one hundred percent sure before they did something drastic.
“I’m not supposed to tell a soul.” Sarah sighed, dropping her tearful gray eyes to the floor. “But I guess there’s no point in hiding what she said. It’s not like it’ll change a thing,” she said sadly. “I’m her insurance. She wants me to start the war between you all and her.”
* * * *
“Oh, honey, you don’t have to worry about that,” Shannon informed Sarah. “The war started the moment that cunt rolled her skanky ass into Serenity and attempted to hurt the people I love.”
Shannon meant every word she said down to the very marrow in her bones. What Leila had done to her was bad enough. But what she’d done to the people Shannon cared about the most was unforgivable. She would pay for all of this or Shannon would die trying to make sure she did. Can we say melodramatic? Of course we can. I’m the drama queen to end all drama queens.
After years of Leila’s bullying, it was time to take off their kid gloves and get rid of her once and for all. But how? It wasn’t like they could murder her. Could we? Shannon shook her head, probably looking odd to everyone else in the bedroom. However, she figured they were used to her insanity. At least, they should be by now.
“We need a plan,” Jaycee said, stating the obvious. “Preferably a damn good one.”
Katie-Anne stood from the bed. She walked over to Sarah, paused beside her, then whispered something into her ear. The two women spoke in hushed tones for a couple of seconds before swinging around and returning to the group.
“There’s only one way to get rid of someone like Leila,” Katie-Anne stated matter-of-factly as she lowered herself to the floor next to Sarah, who’d just sat down Indian-style on the Oriental rug. “And I don’t mean kill her, Shannon Dalton.” She pointedly stared at her then waggled her finger. “You behave. I promise we’ll take care of this, but killing her is too fucking easy. We’re going to do something far worse. We’re going to take away everything that matters to her.”
“Like what?” Sarah asked, her innocence shining through. She drew her eyebrows down in confusion. “The only thing that horrible woman cares about is herself.”
“Exactly,” Katie-Anne exclaimed. Her face lit up in an oddly twisted kind of manner that worried Shannon, and she grinned sinisterly, which worried her even more. “We need to steal away her money, her looks, and her power.”
“How do we do that?” Sarah inquired, her naiveté showing again.
Although, Shannon had to admit that she understood exactly where Sarah was coming from. She was rather confused herself. How in the world could they steal away those three things? They weren’t exactly capable of draining her bank account, marring her face beyond recognition, or making people see the hideous hag she truly was. Okay, we can do some of that—legally.
“I have a few ideas,” Ella replied as she scooted off the chair and dropped onto the floor beside Katie-Anne. Flopping over onto her stomach, she bent her elbows and propped her chin on her hands. She raised her feet from the floor, bending them in the crease and kicking them back and forth. The curvy woman’s actions reminded Shannon of a girl gossiping at a slumber party, and she rolled her eyes.
“We have to do this legally,” Shannon muttered begrudgingly. “Otherwise, Belle will be forced to put us in jail, and Leila will somehow steal and hide the goddamn key.”
Ella snorted. “Belle hates Leila almost as much as we do. She made an enemy of her when she hit on Ash in the middle of Dolce Serenità.”
“It doesn’t exactly matter what Belle thinks,” Brooklyn declared. “She would have to arrest you if Leila pressed charges. And trust me, she will press charges if you’r
e not careful.”
Something about the way Brooklyn spoke struck Shannon oddly, and she had to ask the question that had been plaguing her since her untimely arrival. “Do you see something you’re not telling us?”
Brooklyn frowned. “I see all sorts of things, but I can’t divulge that kind of information. And I won’t.”
“Fine,” Jaycee grumbled with a frown of her own. “I’ll just call your mama.”
“Good luck with that,” Brooklyn replied smugly, her eyes twinkling in unmistakable merriment. “My mama doesn’t tell me jack shit, and as much as she loves you, she’s not going to tell you either. She believes that there’s no changing the future, but I disagree. Now I’m going to help you change your futures and mine.” Her pretty face flushed as though she’d realized she’d said too much. “Please don’t make me regret it.”
Katie-Anne smiled reassuringly. “We won’t make you regret a damn thing, Brooklyn.”
Brooklyn harrumphed. “Sure you won’t.”
“I think it’s time we welcome you to our club, Brooklyn,” Jaycee said. “Our friendship ménage keeps growing, which is probably a good thing. We’re going to need all the help we can get to take The Bitch down and keep her whoreific ass there.”
“As I always say, the more, the merrier,” Ella declared, grinning cheekily. “With Thanksgiving coming, there’ll be a lot of people around who want in on the action. So let’s get cooking. It’s about time we serve Leila the sweetest dish.”
Shannon liked the idea of cooking the sweetest dish. She was a chef after all. Opening her mouth to respond, Shannon’s words stuck in her throat when the door flew open and revealed her three husbands. Just like she’d expected, Jared and Drew were irate, and Randy was still hurt.
Before she could escape, or even move, all three barreled into the room. Not surprisingly, Drew was the first to reach her. He jerked her into his arms and threw her over his shoulder before stalking out in total, tense silence.