Damaged: The Dillon Sisters

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Damaged: The Dillon Sisters Page 3

by Layla Frost


  He smiled down at me, and, if I were normal, I’d have smiled back. Maybe I’d have flirted. Maybe I’d have told him that he could repay the inconvenience by buying me coffee.

  Maybe I’d have done the bare minimum and simply introduced myself.

  But I wasn’t normal, so I didn’t do any of that.

  Not that he was waiting on bated breath for me to do anything. He offered one last apology before turning and walking away.

  I watched him head down the street toward the parking lot. Or, more specifically, I watched his ass. It should’ve been a crime for a pair of pants to fit someone so well. Or for someone to be that attractive. It was unfair to the rest of the universe for him to throw off the hotness bell curve so much.

  When he was almost to the corner, he looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with mine.

  Shit.

  Busted.

  I averted my gaze, pretending I was scanning the area and not staring at him like a freak.

  Kill me now, ‘kay? Thanks.

  I wasn’t struck down, but my bus pulled up, and that was the next best thing.

  Alexander

  THAT WASN’T THE smoothest meeting…

  Walking away from the gorgeous blonde, I wondered if I should’ve introduced myself. It hadn’t seemed like a good idea. She’d looked freaked enough and desperate for an escape. Not that I blamed her. An emergency text had come through and I’d been looking down at my cell when I’d bumped into her.

  Great job, asshole.

  Needing another look, I glanced over my shoulder.

  Still standing where I’d left her, her long hair blew back in the breeze as if she were a model in a shampoo commercial.

  She was gorgeous enough to be.

  Her big blue eyes were brighter in the hint of sun. They were just as pretty as the rest of her.

  They were also still aimed my way.

  When I met her gaze, she jolted before quickly looking away.

  Her checking me out—and her reaction to getting caught—made me think I hadn’t fucked up as bad as I thought.

  Fuck it.

  I was going to go back to talk to her, but before I could, a bus stopped in front of her. She hurried on as soon as it came to a stop.

  Sliding my hands into my pockets, I grinned as I walked to my car.

  No, that wasn’t the smoothest meeting…

  But it was a helluva start.

  Chapter Two

  Fascinating

  Briar

  For satchels of Richards

  ONCE I WAS locked in my apartment, my lungs opened fully, allowing me to breathe deep until the tingling in my fingertips dissipated.

  I’m alone.

  I’m in control.

  I made it a week, and I can keep going.

  At least for another week.

  Maybe…

  Distracting myself from my toxic thoughts, I flipped through my mail. It didn’t offer much diversion since it was nothing but catalogs, coupons, and other junk I had no use for. I set my purse on the kitchen island and reached in like I was Mary Poppins with a bag of chaos.

  Not feeling what I was looking for, I turned it upside-down and dumped out the mess. Even though it was obvious right away that my phone wasn’t there, I took the time I didn’t have to sort through, placing each item where it belonged.

  With order restored, I searched my apartment only to confirm what I already knew.

  I was missing my cell.

  Shit.

  I must not have picked it up when everything spilled.

  My phone was basically a glorified meme machine. I could’ve waited until the next day to get it and the only one who’d notice was the robot trying to reach me about the extended warranty I didn’t have for the car I also didn’t have. But waiting meant I wouldn’t have it in case of an emergency, and that made me anxious.

  What else was new?

  Awesome. First, I set myself off by planning dinner with Aria. Then I got knocked into and made a mess. Then I made that situation even worse by getting caught checking the guy out. And to top it off, I lost my phone and have to go back out into the world.

  Stellar day.

  I really am my worst enemy.

  Sighing dramatically, as though it were the world’s biggest inconvenience—because it kinda was—I left my tiny fortress of solitude. I probably should’ve asked a neighbor to use their phone so I could call Aria to go outside and look for me. But that would’ve meant human interaction—not to mention the risk of her finding out I’d lied about my plans—so I hopped back on the bus and rode to the center to look for myself.

  When I got off, I scanned the gutter and area around the stop. Coming up empty, I went inside on the very off chance someone had turned it in.

  I was nearly at the main reception desk when someone called, “Briar!”

  I decided right then that being yelled at from across the room was nearly as bad as being startled. All eyes in the busy lobby shot to me, making my skin crawl.

  Derrick strolled toward me, holding up my cell. “Missing something?”

  Relief flooded me. “Thank goodness.”

  “Someone found it on the sidewalk and turned it in. I knew it was yours.” The sadness left his eyes as he gave me a small smile. “The case gave you away.”

  Since the elegant, old fashioned script said to Consume a satchel of Richards—a classier way of saying eat a bag of dicks—it would be memorable.

  I took it from him, tucking it carefully in its correct spot in my bag. “Thank you.”

  His smile dropped, and he launched into lecture-mode. “You got lucky. There’s so much personal information automatically stored on phones now. All your passwords, accounts, location tracking… You’ve got to be more careful.”

  Whatever brief hint of relief I’d felt was gone in an instant as all the worst-case scenarios flooded my brain.

  Oblivious to my inner panic, Derrick continued. “I was just leaving to drop it off for you at the shelter on my way home.”

  I was about to ask why he’d go there when I remembered my earlier lie to get out of dinner with the other group members. If he’d discovered the truth, it would’ve been a clusterfuck of my own making.

  That’s it.

  No more lies.

  I have enough secrets to keep. I don’t need to weave anymore webs to trap myself in.

  Swallowing past the lump in my dry throat, I hoped my words sounded lighter than they felt. “I’m glad I saved you the trip.”

  That wasn’t a lie. I was so fucking glad I’d come in search of my phone instead of waiting.

  “I better get going,” I said, leaving off any mention of returning to the shelter so it wasn’t a mistruth.

  “I’m heading out, too.”

  Greeeeeeat.

  We walked in awkward silence next to each other. As we approached the bus stop, my thoughts drifted to the bodyguard and the mess he’d caused, ruining my day.

  Fine, and also how sexy his smile and fascinating honey eyes were. I could spend hours studying them, picking out each different hue of brown.

  A hand touched my upper arm, and my defenses shot up.

  “Earth to Briar,” Derrick said.

  “Sorry, zoned out. Did you say something?”

  He smiled. It wasn’t sexy and his sad eyes weren’t fascinating. “I said to have a good night.”

  “You, too. And thanks again for keeping my phone safe.”

  “No problem. Just remember to be more careful. See you next week.”

  He kept going toward the parking lot just as the bus pulled up.

  Let’s try this again.

  Chapter Three

  Followed

  Him

  DAMAGED.

  I’d never seen anyone so damaged or broken. Especially not someone so young. Pretty girls her age should be filled with excitement and hope at what the future held. She should be light—the antithesis of me. But she was… gray.

  Like static on a
TV, she was technically ON but not in a way that mattered.

  Standing in the dirty alley outside her apartment, I watched through her window as she moved around her space. She was oblivious to me watching her, just as she’d been oblivious to me following her.

  She disappeared from my view. I didn’t like not knowing the layout of her apartment or that there were places I couldn’t see her.

  Avoiding the piles of garbage, I sidestepped to the next window, keeping out of view in case it wasn’t hers. The cheap blinds were uneven, allowing me to see the generic bedroom.

  Fuck.

  All thoughts of caution flew from my damn mind as she came in and began stripping.

  It wasn’t graceful.

  It wasn’t seductive.

  Like all her movements, the simple act of undressing seemed an exhausting necessity.

  But that didn’t stop my dick from growing painfully hard, angling down my thigh as I studied her body with more than the detached interest I usually viewed people with. My gaze moved slowly as I tried to memorize every curve she hid beneath shapeless clothes. Every dip. Every flare.

  And every pretty little scar that marred her pretty little body.

  Unable to stop myself—not that I tried—I freed my cock and fisted it, gliding my hand up and down the length. I tightened my hold past the point of pain as she bent to grab something from the dresser. My gut clenched with a sick anticipation as she walked toward the window, but she only sat on the bed to scroll through her phone.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so fucking turned on. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d jerked off due to want and not the simple biological function of release.

  Even right then, it wasn’t want that fueled me.

  It was need.

  Need for a beautifully damaged girl.

  I had places to be. A strict schedule to keep. I shouldn’t be standing in an alley with my dick in my hand—something I’d never be able to explain if I were caught.

  But I didn’t leave. I didn’t tuck myself away.

  I sure as fuck didn’t stop.

  Not until my come shot out, painting the brick in front of me.

  Catching my breath, I put my still semi-hard cock back in my pants as she pulled on pajamas before leaving the room. I followed, returning to the other window as she entered the living room and collapsed on the couch. I stayed longer than I should’ve, greedily watching her do nothing.

  When I’d pushed it to the last minute, I grudgingly left.

  But I’d be back.

  Chapter Four

  Normal

  Briar

  For salsa

  MY SISTER AND I were about as different as two people could be. She was everything I wasn’t. Mature. Successful. Functioning.

  Normal.

  But despite all that, she was the person I loved most in the world. Actually, she was the only person I loved. She never judged me. Never pushed me too far. Never faulted me for not coping productively like she had.

  As I sat across the booth from her, us each working through our own bowls of salsa, I was reminded why I loved her so much. She didn’t go all shrink on me with carefully phrased questions. She didn’t study me like I was an animal in the zoo. She didn’t pry. Doing most of the talking, she kept the conversation light and superficial as she told me about the small improvements she’d made to her private practice’s office.

  It was perfect.

  I need to do this more often. For her.

  And maybe a bit for me, too.

  I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was happy, but in that moment, I could almost pretend I was. That was good enough.

  Which was why I impulsively blurted, “We should do these Friday night dinners once a month.”

  Why did I say that?

  Why, why, why?

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I struggled with plans. They should’ve made me feel in control. After all, I was the one who’d suggested more dinners. Instead, an immense sense of pressure landed on my shoulders. Because if I had to back out, I would let her down.

  I could never let people down.

  I saw the pleasure she tried to hide. “Sure, that’d be fun.” Likely sensing the panic that’d blossomed in my chest, she left it at that and changed subjects. “Tell me about the rescue. Any new animal besties?”

  Growing up as we had, pets were not a possibility. Since I’d always loved animals far more than people, it’d been just another sucky thing about my childhood. When I’d first moved in with Aria, I’d spent all my time volunteering at the local no-kill rescue until they were basically forced to offer me a paying job. It was mostly walking, grooming, and litter duty, but it was still preferable to any other job out there.

  “We just got in a litter of kittens,” I shared, my excitement taking over. “They’re calico, so their coloring is gorgeous and they’ve got a lot of attitude. I think they’ll be gone soon, but until then, I’m enjoying them.”

  “Why don’t you adopt one?” she asked before regret coated her features. Her eyes widened and she braced, likely awaiting my abrupt exit or complete shutdown.

  Adopting an animal was not in the cards for me. Pets were a lot of responsibility and a long commitment. I barely kept myself alive, so caring for another living creature was too much for me.

  And I couldn’t guarantee I had years to offer.

  Keeping my shit together for her, I offered a reassuring smile. “I just got settled into the apartment, so it’s not the right time. I actually don’t even know if they allow pets.”

  She relaxed, and I was proud of myself for handling it more like… well, more like her. “Your way is probably more fun than cleaning up hairballs and dealing with the three AM sprints across your face.”

  “That’s true. You know I’m cranky when I get woken up.”

  Because I rarely sleep.

  Bringing out my phone, I opened up my pictures to show her our latest rescue.

  She glanced down at the picture before raising her brows. “Are those…”

  “Two pigeons? Yup. Can you believe that? Someone had them as pets, then moved into an apartment that doesn’t allow birds, so now we have to rehome them. Who looks at a rat with wings and thinks, yup, I’m gonna domesticate the hell out of that thing?”

  “I didn’t even realize they could be domesticated.”

  “Well, they can. And they’re spoiled, too. They expect to be handfed and coddled, so we can’t just release them out into the wild. I think a squirrel could punk on them.”

  “Oh God, now I’m just picturing a hyper squirrel making a pigeon its bitch.”

  “It’d be animal kingdom chaos.” I shook my head. “The shelter is running one of those bachelor auction fundraisers next month—Dogs and Dates. I thought Bones and Hoses would get more attendees, but what do I know? Maybe I should see if one of the firefighters wants to be paired up with spoiled pigeons instead of a sweet, furry pup.”

  Aria froze with a chip halfway to her mouth. “Firefighters?”

  “Yeah, the bachelors are hot firefighters—pun intended—from Station Six.”

  She popped the dripping chip into her mouth, slowly chewing. “You going?”

  “Not even if they paid me in pole slides… Take that how you will.”

  “It sounds fun.”

  “You and I have a very different definition of fun.”

  She tried to hide it, but a frown pulled at her mouth. And since I was an expert at reading negative body language—it-takes-one-to-know-one kinda thing—I could easily see her tension.

  She’s disappointed.

  I let her down.

  I really didn’t want to go. At all. Not unless I could steal the dogs and hide away in a back room. Since that would basically defeat the whole fundraiser thing, it wasn’t an option.

  Instead, I offered the next best thing. “I can get you tickets, though.”

  She opened her mouth then promptly closed it. After a long moment
, she shook her head. “No, that’s okay.”

  Before I could lose my mind and agree to go—and I’d do it because I’d do anything to make her happy—our food arrived. Digging in, we talked more about the shelter, animals, and everything else surface level.

  By the time we were finished and saying our goodbyes, I was kind of looking forward to it being a monthly thing. It was fun.

  Normal.

  “You sure you don’t want a ride home?” she asked.

  “I want to take advantage of the lack of clouds, and it’s only a short walk.”

  I could tell she wanted to push it, but she didn’t. Well, not with that, anyway. She did push it by quickly hugging me. “Text when you get home. And send me pictures of the calicos.”

  “I will.”

  I started walking away before she called, “Briar!”

  Turning back, my sister still stood near the restaurant entrance.

  “I changed my mind,” she blurted. “Can you get me two tickets?”

  “For you? Anything.” I held up a finger. “Wait, I still don’t have to go, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then for you? Anything,” I repeated with a smile.

  Picking at her nails, she chewed on her bottom lip for a second before seeming to catch herself. She released her lip and dropped her hands before pushing her shoulders back. “Thanks, you’re the best.”

  “If this makes me the best, you’ve gotta raise your standards. I’ll drop them at your clinic office.”

  We went our separate ways, the wind whipping at my cheeks when I started walking. As enjoyable as the night had turned out, my brain was grateful for the silence so I could decompress.

  I’ll get better.

  It won’t always be so hard.

  It won’t be a strain.

  It won’t be so exhausting.

  I will get better.

  Reaching my apartment, I was lost in my mantra and not paying attention until my foot connected with something, making a clang. I glanced down to see a vase sitting in front of my door. It was overflowing with wildflowers.

  They were beautiful.

  They were also clearly at the wrong place.

  I picked up the bundle and searched around for a note to see where they should’ve been delivered to, but there was nothing.

 

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