Gravity (Wilde Boys Book 1)

by Sara Cate

  This time I’m the one clenching my fists, and I want to hit those thoughts right out of his head.

  “I never expected you to bring her to Del Rey, but I figured it was perfect. I could make you hurt more.”

  I can’t react. I’m fucking speechless with this sudden realization I might have brought Zara into this fucked up relationship only to get hurt by my own son.

  “Why would you do that?” he asks, his features shrouded in pain, tears filling his eyes. “Why would you bring her for me if you wanted her for yourself?”

  “I never wanted her for myself, Nash. I wanted her for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re my son. When she was around, you fucking smiled. And not while you were drunk or to bring me pain. For a minute, you looked goddamn happy.”

  “I was happy,” he says, and my heart cracks. I took this from him. I came here for Thanksgiving and I stole his happiness, the very happiness I was supposed to give to him. I fucked up.

  “Then, I’ll get her back, Nash. She’ll come back for you. I’ll stay away, I promise.”

  “But you’re happy too, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I reply without hesitation. That's the parent’s response to everything, right? I’d give Nash everything I have, every ounce of blood in my body, the air from my chest, and I’d promise him the same thing. I’ll be fine.

  “Don’t you fucking get it? I told her to get flying lessons from you. I told her to go to the ballet with you. As fucked up as it is, she’s the only tie between us. I know you love her, admit it. Stop trying to spare my fucking feelings and tell me. Do you love her?”

  “Do you?” I reply.

  He swallows, then nods, blinking the moisture away. “Answer me, Dad. Do you love her?”

  “Yes, I love her, Nash, but that doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Then, bring her back. Bring her back and stay, and let’s just go back to the way things were.”

  There’s a new silence around us, different than the silence I felt this morning when I realized she was gone. That silence felt like pain but this one feels like healing.

  “But what about—” I ask, but he cuts me off.

  “I know you think she was only there for the money, but I promise you, she wasn’t. It was more than that to her. We’re her family, and Del Rey is her home. What else could possibly matter?”

  I think I know what my son is suggesting by the way his eyes won’t meet mine, but I have to replay every word to be sure we’re on the same page.

  When he finally looks up at me, there’s less tension in his shoulders. “Fuck, maybe we already blew it, but it’s worth a shot. We have to get her back.”

  Then, I remember what Zara and I said last night as we stood on that stage and spilled our hearts to each other. She told me she belongs to me as much as she belongs to him, so maybe this has been happening all along and I never realized it. It’s too insane to even think, sharing a girl with my son, people would burn me at the stake for this, but like Nash said. She’s our family and together is our home. There’s no one on the island to tell us it’s wrong, and if it’s what will make him happy, then who am I to argue? I want to see him smile, and it seems he wants the same for me.

  All Zara wants is to feel like she’s not being torn in two. Whether or not this is the way to do it, I don’t know, but he was right. It's worth a shot.

  27

  I don’t know why I call the club the minute I get in the door. There’s a million dollars in my bank account right now, so it’s not about needing the money. It’s about getting the fuck out of this apartment. It’s about trying to go back to my life and pretending this past month didn’t happen.

  After hanging my black gown up in my dressing room, I put on my thong and pasties, ready to hit the stage for the first time in a month. The girls are fawning over the dress, so I offer it to the first new girl who asks me about it. In return she has to give me the yoga shorts and tank top she came to work in.

  Why am I acting like this? I don’t know. My life derailed, and I want to celebrate how much I royally fucked it up.

  “Girl, where have you been?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I heard you were seen out with Alistair Wilde.”

  The onslaught of questions doesn’t stop, but I answer them all nonchalantly.

  “I was on vacation.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Alistair Wilde is not my boyfriend.”

  I can’t let my mind go back to last night or the fact that aside from a small nap on the plane, I haven’t slept a wink. I’m wired and anxious, and these Red Bulls aren’t helping. I had to keep talking myself into the decision to leave. My mind understands, but my heart wants to turn around. It doesn’t understand that loving is a stupid, stupid thing to do and loving two men—even worse. It doesn’t realize how much it’s going to hurt to choose one over the other so it’s simply best to walk away before anyone gets really hurt.

  Still, the thought of Alistair waking up alone after the most amazing night hurts. It stings even more that my phone is silent. He didn’t call. Didn’t text. He just accepted my absence without being surprised or outraged, and he let me walk right out of his life.

  I get it. It’s better for him and his relationship with his son if I’m out of the picture. Nash won’t be too upset about my absence. It’s just sex with us. Sex and friendship.

  So when my phone didn’t pop up with messages after my early afternoon flight, I shut it off and left it at home. I basically became an emotionless zombie after that. All I can do now is go through the motions, step by step. And this is how the rest of my life will be.

  It’s not even dark out yet and the club is packed—holiday weekend and all.

  The crowd gets loud after they announce my name and my big return. I should be happy. They want me here. I’m valued here.

  But as I take the stage, the lights above me instantly make me think of last night, and for a moment, I let myself believe I could be more. He made me believe it.

  Shutting off the pain, I dance. My robe falls to the floor, and the crowd cheers. Being naked in front of strangers again doesn’t feel the same as it used to. It feels wrong, like I’m showing them something that belongs to Nash...and Alistair.

  Both of them.

  When I drop down to the floor, shaking my bare ass in front of the men in front row, I hate myself. I have to shut my eyes to keep the tears from coming out. Emma would have never let this happen. She loved one man. Why couldn’t I just do the same?

  Just as I feel someone slip a dollar bill into my G-string, there’s a commotion in the club. Then, something heavy is draped over my body. I let out a scream as I’m lifted off the floor of the stage.

  “Take your hands off my son,” a voice booms from nearby and I look up to see Nash’s face next to mine. Alistair stands just next to him, glaring angrily at the bodyguard who’s staring at me in concern.

  “We’re taking her home, so get the fuck out of our way,” Nash grits out, carrying me in a cradle hold.

  “Put me down!” I scream, struggling against Nash’s arms. There’s more of a commotion, and I watch as the bodyguards close in on Alistair. I finally manage to claw myself free and stomp away from the men. Nash grabs me by the waist, and I swing at him. There’s a struggle, and someone is able to restrain him as I escape.

  Why am I fighting him? Tears stream down my face as I leave the ruckus behind me, reaching the dressing room. I can’t look in the mirror or in any of the faces that ambush me with concern.

  “You,” a deep voice booms at me. I turn to see my boss, staring at me with his yellow teeth clenched and a wild look in his eye. “Get the fuck out of my club and don’t come back.”

  “I’m leaving!” I scream. The only thing I have to wear, since the dress is missing, is Alistair’s jacket, once again. Snatching it up along with my purse, I hear Alistair say my name, and the tears pour even harder down my face.

>   When I glance back, I see him and my boss staring daggers at each other. Nash follows behind, wiping blood from his lip.

  The room is quiet as everyone stares wide-eyed back and forth between us. I’m not strong enough for this. I just keep fucking up, and I don’t know where to go or what to do. All I know is that I’m so fucking tired of being alone. So when my eyes meet Alistair’s in the mirror, I crumble. He’s so out of place here, this strong, king of a man, who for some reason looks at me like I matter to him. My knees buckle, but I don’t hit the floor.

  Suddenly, I’m whisked away toward the door. The room is silent as I leave the club, and it’s not until I’m dropped into the backseat of an SUV that I can speak.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I snap. Nash settles into the seat next to me as Alistair opens the driver’s door, climbing behind the wheel.

  “We’re taking you home,” Nash answers me. The jacket is around my shoulders, but I’m still mostly naked.

  The car starts moving, and I’m sitting there in shock as I stare at them. There are literally dollar bills hanging from my underwear.

  “Stop the car, Alistair. You guys can’t do this. You don’t own me! I was just doing my job.”

  “You’re never doing that again,” Nash says without looking at me.

  “Why? Because you don't like it? Because this body is yours? Well, don’t you care that your dad was the one fucking it last night?” I’m sleep deprived, hopped up on Red Bull and acting insane. I can see that. It’s like I’m seeing myself from the outside looking in, but neither of them really react.

  “Someone answer me!” I shriek. “Alistair, stop the car!”

  “Let’s go to your apartment and we’ll talk,” Alistair answers as he pulls onto the highway toward my place.

  My chin starts to quiver, feeling like I’m being scolded. As we reach my apartment, I burst out of the car, hugging Alistair’s coat around me. It barely covers my ass, and I can feel the cool breeze. The guys are right on my tail as I get to the door.

  Huffing in anger, I stab the key into the hole and stomp in. I don’t want this. I don’t want them butting into my life, trying to control my every move, drowning me in attention. I don’t fucking want any of it.

  And yet, just seeing them again is making me emotional. I can’t want to crawl into Alistair’s arms again. Right now, I’d rather tear through walls.

  “I’m home. Now you two can leave.”

  Nash presses past me easily, but Alistair stands at the doorway looking at me with a blank expression. I’m still crying, and I hate myself for it.

  “This isn’t your home, Zara.”

  “Yes, it is,” I say, my voice shaking.

  “Pack your shit. We’re leaving,” Nash says as I hear a bag hit the floor behind me.

  I don’t move. I’m staring at Alistair. “Can I come in?” he asks.

  Finally, I relent, moving out of the way. “I can’t go back to Del Rey. I can’t.”

  “You’re going, Zara.” Nash is full of rage, not bothering to bite back the anger in the clench of his jaw.

  Alistair puts a hand on his shoulder. “We said we were going to give her a choice.”

  “Well that was before we found out how quickly she would go back to shaking those tits on stage.” He’s staring at me as he says it.

  “They’re my tits, Nash. I can do whatever the fuck I want with them.” Suddenly, I’m flying at him, and Alistar’s hand around my waist stops me before I take two months of frustration and anger out on him.

  “We want you to come back to Del Rey with both of us, Zara,” Alistair says with a much more level head than Nash or me.

  “I told you, I can’t do it. I can’t choose. And I don’t want to.”

  “We’re not making you choose, baby,” Alistair says just next to my ear, and my body jolts in his arms as I look up at him, his words starting to register.

  “What?”

  This time I look at Nash. His anger has settled too, but he still doesn’t speak.

  “I mean it,” I say to him. “I came out to Del Rey for the money. Everything happened between us...it means nothing to me. I just wanted the money.”

  Neither of them react, which confirms they can both read right through my bullshit.

  “And you’re not going to make me choose? So what? You’re just going to pretend you don’t care when I’m fucking your dad?” I say to Nash. Turning to Alistair, I add, “Or when I'm fucking your son.”

  Still, they stay silent, and my heart thrums in my ears. The room begins to sway, and I grab onto Alistair for support. “Wait…” I gulp. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” My eyes are dancing between the two of them, and neither of them are laughing like I am. Suddenly it bubbles out of me, fueled by artificial energy coursing through my veins.

  “Del Rey is your home, and we are your family. If you can’t choose, then we won’t make you.” Alistair says it like it’s so easy, like my heart will be protected so long as I don’t have to pick one over the other.

  “You’re not joking,” I say, as my laughter turns back into tears.

  “No,” Nash says finally. My beautiful, tortured Nash just stares at me, and I know he won’t come out and say how badly he wants me to come home, but I see it in his expression. Right now, I’m dying to touch him.

  “Zara, I never should have made you feel responsible for fixing us,” Alistair says, but my eyes are still on Nash. He should hate me for what I did with Alistair, and I keep searching his features to see how serious he is about this crazy idea.

  “So, you’re not going to be mad when I sleep with him?” I ask, and I see him flinch.

  “I might be a little angry,” he answers flatly, and I know exactly what that means. We can go back to the way things were. Sex being how we punish each other, punish ourselves. How we shed the years of pain and frustration until all that’s left is us.

  “And you?” I ask, looking at Alistair. “You don’t have a problem with sharing me?”

  “I’m just trying to keep my family together.” He says it with so much confidence, for the first time I see the father in him.

  Any sensible person would turn this down. It’s a recipe for disaster. We will only end up hurt and angry and possibly more broken than when we started this whole thing, but I am not a sensible person.

  The grief from that crash ricocheted, and it didn’t just bring us pain, but it drilled holes in the very fabric of our lives. Relationships, happiness, our futures, our dreams, it’s all been broken. So what if we do try to find happiness in this very unconventional way? So what if I love them both and the three of us can only be together this way. So what if this is our family, and this is what makes us happy.

  Without a word, I walk to the bedroom, and shut myself in. I don’t stop to think as I get dressed, pulling my gray sweats up over a much more comfortable pair of underwear. Most of my clothes are already at the house so I don’t need much more but I pack a few extras just for show anyway. As I walk out of the bedroom, they both look up at me expectantly.

  “Let’s go,” I mutter as I walk toward the door. No one says a word as they follow me out of the apartment, locking the door on their way out.

  28

  I’m not letting go of her. From her apartment to the airfield, I keep Zara by my side. I know the deal is that I don’t get her to myself, but I get her now. All I see is her on that stage, shaking her ass in some sick fuck’s face, and my palm has been itching ever since. It’s not Zara’s fault, and there’s nothing wrong with being a dancer. I know that, but this isn’t about right and wrong. This is about her pretending this was just a job. This is about her thinking she could leave me without so much as a goodbye, like what we had meant nothing. It’s about feeding something inside of me that only has a taste for Zara. And right now, it’s fucking insatiable.

  She sits right next to me on the flight home, and I try to calm the racing of my heart. The scent of her perfume fills my senses,
and I try to remember the moment everything changed for me. Was it her meeting my grandparents? No, before that. Before the conversation on the boat. Before the pool. Before I found her sleeping in the guest house on that very first day. Everything changed for me the night at the club and I found a girl as broken and sad as I was. A girl who’s pain mirrored mine.

  From that minute, everything with Zara changed for me.

  Looking over at her in the helicopter, I know she feels the change too. She squeezes my hand, squirming in her seat like she can’t wait to be on the ground—to be home.

  The moment we land, I pull her out of her seat and carry her over my shoulder. She gasps my name, but she doesn’t fight. I hear my dad coming in for a landing after us, but we’re long gone, down the hall to my room. He had her to himself last night, so tonight she’s mine.

  As I toss her on the bed, she stares up at me with wild eyes. It’s anticipation.

  “If you want me to be gentle, you better say something now.” My voice is unrecognizable, deep and full of something I’ve never heard come out me before. Rage. Passion. Pride.

  This woman is mine, and I’m going to remind her of that.

  No—ours. She’s ours, and maybe if I hadn’t seen her on that stage today, I wouldn’t feel like this, but even she can’t deny that whatever this is, it feels good.

  She doesn’t respond, and my dick hardens even more.

  “Come here,” I growl. Slowly she moves to all fours, crawling over to me. Digging my hands into her hair, grasping her at the scalp, I pull her face close to mine. She winces from the pain as I kiss her, gnashing our teeth together as I bite her lips and tongue. A sweet cry echoes through the room.

  “Let him hear you scream for me,” I whisper against her mouth.

  “Nash,” she whimpers, and before she can say another word, I toss her across the bed.

  Standing at the end, I stare down at her as I unbuckle my belt, whipping it off in a swift motion that makes her flinch.