The Wayward Sister (Wayward Sons Book 5)

by Angel Lawson

  “It’s not easy,” Jake says. “You have to share a bond bigger than the whole.”

  Charlie nods. “A lot of balancing and trust.”

  A line forms between George’s eyes. “The guys are right, Sierra. It’s hard and we’re still figuring things out. I’m not going to judge you for who you like or even love, but getting involved like this requires a deep understanding of one another. It took the four of us and Starlee a long time to work it out.”

  It’s a switch-around from the past, them being worried about me, but not only that, these boys are giving me advice. Well-thought-out advice, which is unexpected. And a little unnerving. Me and the Rangers have had it pretty easy; circumstances putting us in this house together, with no outside judgement.

  I fight past the insecurities and say, “Dex’s boxes are out in the garage, if you want to start loading them up. I marked them with his name. I’m going to go check on him.”

  I grab the papers off the counter and head out the back door. Dexter is standing on the deck, looking out over the hills. It’s late afternoon and the sun is already falling behind the hills.

  “Dad picked a great view,” I say, walking over.

  “Yeah,” he says, hands shoved in his pockets.

  “Are you mad about the Rangers?”

  He shakes his head. “No. They seem like good guys. Robbie really likes them.”

  “The guys just gave me a warning about how hard it’s going to be.”

  “It is hard, Sierra. There are days I don’t want to share Starlee and I just want to keep her all to myself.” He glances over. “We make sacrifices, but it’s worth it. She wants all of us, and we want her. I trust you to make the right decision.”

  “I should have trusted you better.”

  He shrugs. “We were all in a tight spot, one that we never should have been in. We all had a shitty situation and you stepped up to help us. We made mistakes. It’s all in the past.”

  I take a deep breath of fresh air. “Are you going to be okay with selling the house?”

  He looks over at me. “Yeah, I think so. You really did a great job fixing it up. Mom and Dad would have been proud.”

  “They would have been really proud of you. So proud.” Tears prick at my eyes. “There were days I didn’t know if you were going to make it. The fights, the drugs, the attitude…but you figured it out. Look at you now? You’re an amazing person.”

  He smiles and throws his arm over my shoulder. “I had a good mom that loved me no matter how much I fucked up.”

  That one gets me, and I can’t fight the tears that spill down my cheeks. “I do love you, you know that, right?”

  He squeezes me. “Yep, and I love you, too.”

  I hand him the papers and together we agree it’s time to let the house, and a lot of hurt from the past, go. Dexter’s future is bright—and so are the boys'. There’s only one of us that still needs to figure out her path.

  The Wayward Sons are no longer lost, this sister is still standing at the crossroads, but now that I’ve shed the baggage of my past and started repairing the relationship with my brother and the guys, I think I may know better what I need to do.

  And who I want to do it with.

  32

  Adrian

  “You ready to go?” Smith asks as we drive through the gate. He’s stepped out of the shack, leaning into the open window.

  “Sierra called and said she was headed into town and would meet us back home.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah, she had to take the papers into town and wants to get a few things for a special last-night dinner.”

  The three of us share a look, and I have no doubt they feel the same sense of dread that I do. We’re moving out tomorrow, into community housing at the new Lodge. Not exactly the place for an unconventional relationship. She still hasn’t said, maybe doesn’t know, where she’ll go after she sells the house.

  None of us wants to give this up, but Sierra has to figure out what she wants next in her life.

  Smith’s fingers grip the window. “Let me grab my stuff.”

  He straightens, about to head back into the shack, when I see Brent walking up.

  “Hold up,” he calls. He’s carrying envelopes in his hands. “The compensation came through for your losses during the fire.”

  I frown at the envelope he hands me. I hadn’t thought much about any kind of compensation. We’d filled out forms after the fire, listing our possessions. There’d also been other assessments for overtime and displacement; a stipend for housing.

  “Don’t spend it all in one place,” Brent says, waving to us and walking back to his truck.

  Holden tears open his envelope. “Holy shit.”

  “What?” Smith asks, ripping into his. “Fuck.”

  I follow suit, easing open the flap. My heart pounds, terrified at their reaction. It wouldn’t be the first time we’d been screwed on pay. The government shut-downs are the worst.

  I pull out the check and my eyes nearly pop out of my head at the number listed on the right-hand corner.

  “Is this for real?” I ask.

  Holden holds up his. It’s for nearly an identical amount. Same with Smith.

  Seeing the dollar amount triggers something in my head—an idea—a dream, maybe. I put the truck in reverse, taking care not to back over anyone, and head to the parking lot.

  “Where are you going?” Holden asks. I don’t have to look to see that Smith is staring after me.

  I slam the car in park and grab the check, gesturing for Holden to follow.

  “I think I have an idea.”

  33

  Sierra

  Standing by the Jeep, I perform the challenge of juggling grocery bags and looking for my keys at the same time. I’ve got steak, potatoes, and enough beer and wine to hopefully soften the blow of the conversation we’re going to have tonight.

  It was hard not to notice how together the boys were today. They have plans, big ones, and are weeks away from launching into their future. And the Rangers…they’re passionate and dedicated to their jobs. We’re selling the house, Dex is taking care of the Wayward Sun. There’s only one thing—well, three—keeping me from starting fresh and finally figuring out what I want in life.

  I’m not running.

  I’m not.

  But I am tired of treading water.

  With the keys finally clasped tight in my fingers, I manage to get it into the slot without dropping anything. Once I load up, I see the thick envelope I need to take over to Monica’s office. I grab it and slam the door shut, knowing the food should be okay since I only have to drop it off. I turn the corner and head across Main Street.

  That’s when I see Reid.

  I panic, frozen in place, nausea engulfing me.

  He’s walking down the street, six pack of beer in his hand. He looks up and our eyes meet.

  He can’t know I’m scared. He can’t know I’m about to barf. He doesn’t know that all I can think about is his violating hands and foul breath.

  We stare at one another for a long, painful moment, until the bile running up my throat propels me into action. I make it around the corner before I vomit all over the pavement.

  What the hell am I doing? Why does this guy scare me so much?

  I run back to the Jeep, envelope in hand, and hop inside.

  I crank the engine and edge the car toward the street. He’s not there.

  I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that leaving June Lake and the surrounding area will ensure one thing; I won’t ever have to see him again.

  Throwing myself into dinner is the only thing that settles my nerves. I marinate the steaks, chop veggies, clean and prep the potatoes. I won’t have the boys find me curled up on the couch like my last interaction with Reid. If anything, they’ll go into over-protective mode, and my plans for a smooth, steak-filled break up will implode.

  It’s already going to be hard enough.

  I don’t want to break up with
the guys, but after talking to Dex and the boys, I realize I am not ready to take on the challenges of this relationship outside this house. It’s too soon. We’re too fragile. Dexter still struggles with some of the shared aspect. How would he handle it in public? I certainly can’t bed hop at the Ranger Lodge.

  I finish the glass of wine I’d poured to settle my nerves and grab the lighter off the counter. It’s time to start the grill.

  I hadn’t realized how dark it’d gotten until I go out the back door. It’s a moonless night and the hills are barely visible in the distance.

  I flip on the light and it doesn’t turn on.

  “Shit.” Must’ve burned out. I turn on my phone to use as a flashlight. I can find a bulb in a minute.

  I step outside and simultaneously hear the crunch of glass and feel the sharp blades cut through the sole of my foot. I yelp, dropping both the phone and the lighter, blood already dripping from my foot.

  I grip the door frame, wincing through the pain. I’m scared to put pressure down on my foot in case there’s still glass in the wound, but it’s too dark to see anyway.

  I shimmy down the wall and feel around for the phone, my finger seeking the square device. Instead they brush across the warmth of another hand.

  “Who is that?” I ask.

  “Who do you think, sweetheart?” Reid’s smug voice cuts through the dark. “I saw you downtown—don’t pretend like you didn’t see me. Figured I’d follow you out here to see if you needed any help finishing up the house. Looks like you’ve done a good job without me.”

  “Get out of here, Reid.”

  “Why? You’ve already proved you don’t have the guts to go to the police. Your boyfriend—or boyfriends—I can’t quite figure out what’s going on there, aren’t here. Don’t worry. I checked. We’re all alone, and I work fast.” He grins, and I can see the faint outline of his white teeth in the dark. “Unless you’d rather me go slow.”

  He pushes me into the house, and I cry out, stumbling over my injured foot. Blood tracks across my sparkling, freshly waxed floor. I hop on one foot, making it to the kitchen. I look up and see a picture of myself tacked on the refrigerator, it’s me, Jensen, and Jared, at a convention. Their adorable smiles make me think of the Rangers, and that makes me think about how they would never, ever let an asshole like this get away with trying to destroy their lives.

  My default lately has been fear. Soul-crushing fear, but anger wells up inside of me—it’s so much greater than the fear. This time he’s not just fucking with me, but he’s fucking with my house. My parent’s house. The house I put two months of my soul into, the house I let the Rangers move into. The house I fell in love in.

  I lean against the counter seeking balance. “Do you know how much time I spent getting this house ready? Cleaning this floor? Get the fuck off my property, Reid, or you will regret existing.”

  He sneers, reaching for his belt. “I’d like to see you try.”

  I fumble behind me, knocking into the cutting board, feeling for something, anything to protect myself with. I fall down on my foot, slipping on the blood. I turn, and cry out when he slams me forward, stomach into the jutting counter edge, his hands on my ass.

  I reach for the only thing I see.

  A knife.

  I close my eyes and channel my inner Winchester, mustering all my strength and rage. Ignoring my foot, the blood and the pain, I manage to turn, pushing Reid back. I catch him at a point of weakness, focused on removing his pants. His disgusting dick hangs from his pants. I hold out the knife.

  His eyes widen, and he holds out his hands. “Woah, calm the fuck down.”

  “No, you calm the fuck down. Get your pants back on and get the fuck out of my house before I cut that right off your body.”

  Heart pounding, I hold the knife with a shaking hand. His eyes shift between me and the knife, like he’s contemplating his move. I promise myself not to let him take the knife from me.

  I see the flicker of in his eyes, his jaw set, and a look of crazed determination on his face. I sense the decision and I brace myself.

  The slam of wood against wood shatters the tension of the moment, both of us looking toward the door. Three figures, three men, stand in the doorway, vengeful anger etched on their faces.

  I grip the knife, unwaveringly even after Reid darts toward the back door, pants halfway down.

  “Motherfuc—” Smith says, going after him, fast for such a big man. Adrian darts back out the front door. Holden rushes right over to me, slowing as he approaches. He looks down at the bloody floor.

  “I cut my foot,” I say, voice shaking.

  He nods. “I’ll take a look at it.”

  I don’t move, still clutching the knife, adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I’m focused on the door.

  “Babe?”

  I swallow thickly, unable to let down my guard.

  “Sierra.”

  I look at him.

  “Can I have the knife? Then I can look at your foot.”

  I nod, hands still gripped around the weapon. A sob rips through me. “He was outside. He busted the light…”

  “You’re safe, Sierra.” Holden reaches for the knife, prying it from my hands. He sets it on the counter and bends, placing one arm under my knees and another behind my back. He lifts me up and a shudder rolls through me.

  “He ruined my floors.”

  “We can fix the floors.” He kisses my temple and carries me over to the dining room table, leaving me only to grab clean towels and the first-aid kit. When he comes back, sirens are wailing in the distance and Adrian comes through the doorway, sweaty and wild-eyed.

  “Smith has him. The police are on the way.” He walks over, assessing me. “Are you okay?”

  I nod, not completely sure, but I feel way better now that they’re here.

  “I wanted one last night together,” I tell them.

  “Last night in the house?”

  I shake my head. “For good.”

  Adrian steps in front of me, lifting my chin. “If you think we’re walking away from you without a fight, you don’t understand us very well.”

  “It’s too complicated, without the house—”

  “That’s not a problem.”

  “Of course, it’s a problem!” My nerves are frazzled, now is not the time to talk about this. “This whole thing is crazy, Adrian. The four of us together? Once we leave this house, it will fall apart completely.”

  “I don’t believe that, but say you’re right, there’s something we need to talk to you about—” he glances at Holden, who nods.

  Bright lights flood the driveway and footsteps pound on the stairs. EMTs come through the door.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Adrian says, squeezing my hand, “But know that we’re not going anywhere and this time, we’re not letting you go, not again.”

  He kisses me on the cheek before stepping back and giving the EMTs space to work. Holden holds my hand the whole time, not caring who sees.

  Within minutes, the police are in the room. This time I’m not afraid to give a statement. We’ve just finished up when Smith comes in, dirty and worn, his lip busted again. He walks over, and I hold out my arms, and he buries his head in the crook of my neck.

  I glance at the police, at the EMTs, looking to see if they notice the closeness of me and the guys. No one pays the slightest bit of attention as they pack up their supplies. A moment later, it’s just the four of us.

  “I flipped out when I saw the blood,” Smith says, cutting the silence.

  I kiss his forehead. “Thank you for showing up.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? It’s my home.”

  Adrian and Holden nod in agreement, their worried expressions replaced by something else; something I can’t pinpoint.

  “What’s going on?”

  Adrian grins. “Like I said before, we have something to talk about, or really a question for you.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  Holden sc
ratches his neck and Smith crosses his arms over his chest. I wait for Adrian to speak, feeling a sudden flood of nerves.

  “We don’t want to move out—or really, away from you. Thinking about moving to the lodge and not living together feels like a nightmare.”

  “It feels wrong,” Holden says.

  Adrian nods. “We have faith that we can work it out, one way or the other, but tonight we got some good news.”

  Smith reaches into his pocket and pulls out three slips of paper. “We got paid.”

  “Big time,” Holden adds. “And with the money we’ve already saved since we live in park housing, we want to combine it together and well, can we buy your house?”

  I blink. “You want to buy my house?”

  “For all of us to live in together,” Adrian says.

  I feel lightheaded. “You want us to live together? In this house?”

  The idea is crazy. Deranged. Impulsive.

  “We put our blood and sweat into this place. As crazy as it sounds, it already feels like ours.”

  “As for a relationship with you,” Smith says, “were in. One hundred percent. None of us have had a home since we were kids, Sierra. Nothing permanent, but you opened your doors and let us in. When we lost everything we owned, you let us in, fed us, gave us a roof over our head.”

  “It’s my weakness, sheltering lost boys.”

  Smith takes my hand. “Your heart is so big, and I know that you and the boys you raised had a hard time, but this is different. We found a home, we found you, and don’t want to leave.”

  My heart swells, but Smith isn’t done. “We’re committed and,” he glances at the others, “we love you. This is what we want. You are what we want.”

  Did he just say they love me?

  I swallow back emotion, a tear falling down my cheek. “I love you, too. And I want you, all of you, but I can’t sell my house to you.”

  Holden’s face falls and Adrian blinks.

  “Wait!” I say, “I’m not finished. I can’t sell my house to you if we’re all going to live in it. This relationship is about the four of us.”