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Damaged: The Dillon Sisters

Page 21

by Layla Frost


  “You can’t cater your schedule to mine.”

  “Sure I can. And I’ll get you a driver for the rare times I can’t.”

  Grimacing, I looked at him with exaggerated horror. “Stuck in the car with a stranger? No thank you.”

  “Are you ready to start driving?”

  “Yes, it’s time.” I stood and carried my bowl to the sink.

  “We’ll stop at the dealership on the way home.”

  “Whoa. No. Nope.” Putting a hand to his abs, I tipped my head. “Baby steps.”

  “Got it.”

  “I’m going to go to the bathroom really quick then I’ll be ready.” When I was done, I came back to find him checking out the framed picture that’d been tucked away. “I haven’t had time to hang it,” I explained.

  “Christ, I’ll never get used to how beautiful you are. Especially when you smile.” He glanced at me. “Can I put it in my office?”

  I laughed and waved my hand. “You’re the one who gave it to me, so put it wherever.”

  His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head. “What?”

  “You sent this to me?” I’d meant it as a statement, but it’d come out as a question.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did. You’re the only one who stalks me.”

  “I damn sure thought so. When did you get this?”

  I told him about Sue sending the money tree and how I’d originally assumed the picture was from her.

  “Have you gotten anything else out of the ordinary?”

  Fear trickled down my spine like a droplet of ice water, giving me the chills. “No. Just a ton of junk mail.”

  “Let me see it.”

  I didn’t have much, but I grabbed what mail and catalogs I had in the recycling bin.

  He flipped through before coming to one of the letters with the threatening red letters stamped across the front. “What’re you behind on?”

  “Nothing. It’s some bogus credit card offer.”

  Pulling the paper out, he scanned it before turning the envelope over. When he looked at me, his body was tense and there was that edge to him. Since he was mostly grins and obscene touching with me, it was easy to forget how dangerous he could be. “Have you gotten more letters like this?”

  “Yeah, a ton. They freaked me out at first because I hate owing money and being late on anything. Why?”

  He held up the envelope and pointed to the corner. The blank corner, with no stamp or postage. “This didn’t come through the postal service. Someone hand delivered it.”

  _______________

  “DID I ANGER you in some way?”

  I worked to hide my smile as I hit pause. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “This movie is a form of torture.” Alexander gestured to the TV and, if looks could kill, he’d have already melted the thing. “We’re supposed to believe that Wolverine is able to hack into a government system in less than a minute with a gun to his head?”

  “I don’t think he’s Wolverine in this movie.”

  “It’s Hugh Jackman. He’s always Wolverine.” He pulled me closer and tilted my head up. “Tell me, flower, what’d I do to deserve this?”

  “Why don’t you ask the car sitting in your garage? I bet it can answer for me.”

  It can certainly do everything else.

  It was obvious that baby steps meant something entirely different to Alexander. He’d waited an entire day before buying me a ridiculous car with an insane amount of buttons and whosie-whatsits.

  Thanks to the mysterious hand delivered mail, neither of us thought it was safe for me to take the bus. I already hated feeling like people were staring. Finding out that someone actually might’ve been made fire ants scurry under my skin, leaving me itchy and panicky and paranoid.

  With that in mind, I’d been the one to change my mind about visiting dealerships the night before. However, none of the cars I’d looked at had met his standards.

  The words death trap, Flintstones car, and fiery fucking death trap were thrown around. A lot.

  I wasn’t really surprised when there was a brand-new car waiting in his driveway for me.

  “Are you mad?” Alexander asked.

  I also wasn’t really upset. How could I be? He was worried about my safety and my mental health. The only other person who’d given any real consideration to either was Aria.

  Plus, the car was amazing. Matte black—like the vases he’d left for me—and so pretty. I’m sure there were a lot of mechanical ingenuity and safety features, but I knew even less about cars than I did about coding. All I knew was that it was gorgeous, and I’d kept surreptitiously eyeing it. Unsurprisingly, he’d noticed.

  He noticed everything when it came to me.

  I wanted to mess with him, but the genuine concern lining his face stopped me. “No, of course not. I love it. And I love you. Just don’t make a habit of this kinda thing.”

  “So you don’t want a different car for every day of the week? Shit, I’ve got some returns to make.”

  I laughed and cuddled against him to resume our movie—awful hacking representation and all.

  Before I could press play, Alexander’s phone chimed. I could feel the tension infuse his body as he picked it up.

  “Work?” I sat and twisted to face him.

  “No. The cameras.”

  Although I wouldn’t be going back to the apartment alone, Alexander had wired the place with cameras. They were angled to pick up anyone at my door, not just passersby. There was also one in my mailbox, along with the previous ones throughout the apartment.

  He’d watched me.

  Someone else may have been watching me, too.

  Considering my life was about as exciting as reading a car’s manual while easy listening musac played in the background, I didn’t understand it.

  My stomach dropped before twisting violently as I peered at his screen. When the live footage loaded, I exhaled so huge, I could’ve huffed and puffed the house down.

  It was just Aria and Brand.

  The tension that had left my body came back tenfold when I realized the implication of her being there. Even when she picked up and dropped off Muppet, Aria stayed outside because she knew I didn’t like people in my space.

  If she was inside, there was a reason for it.

  And it likely wasn’t good.

  Before she could use the keys she held in her hand, I grabbed my phone—wincing at the missed calls and texts—and called her. Guilt hit me in the chest as I watched her shoulders slump when she saw it was me.

  “I’m outside,” she said by way of greeting.

  I played dumb. “And I’m sure it’s a lovely evening out.”

  “No, outside your apartment. Let me in.”

  “I’m not home. What’s wrong?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Out with a friend.”

  A friend? Alexander mouthed, giving me a smirk and making me roll my eyes.

  I didn’t need the camera to know that skepticism mixed with happiness would be warring on Aria’s features. “What friend?”

  “Let’s focus on the important things. Why are you at my place?”

  “Did you get my message?”

  “No, my ringer is off. What’s wrong?”

  “Dad’s here.”

  Of everything I’d thought she’d say, that was at the very bottom of the list. Actually, it wasn’t even on the list, that’s how implausible it was.

  But the unbelievable was compounded further when she continued. “And he’s looking for you.”

  “Why?”

  “He says he wants to make amends.”

  I scoffed so hard, it came out like a snort. “No, why really?”

  “We’re pretty sure he needs money.”

  His actions being completely self-serving was believable, but the fact he’d be short on cash was not.

  Thanks to people’s never-ending pursuit of the perfect Miami beach bod, Dr. Astor Dillon had more mo
ney than soul.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “He owes his dealer and a pimp.”

  I could’ve gone my entire life without that visual. “Gross.”

  “I know. He looks like shit, Briar. It’s bad. Brand found out he’s been kicked out of his practice. And since Dad’s the one who told me about your gazillionaire, we’re pretty sure he’s here to hit you up for money.”

  That didn’t make me scoff.

  It made me outright laugh.

  “He’s got a better chance of winning the lotto, winning a gold medal at the Olympics, and finding a field of four-leaf clovers all on the same day than he does of getting any money from me.”

  “I figured. But you need to be careful, okay? He doesn’t seem himself. And since himself was already a bastard, this could be bad.”

  “Did you tell him where I live?”

  “God, no.” Thanks to the camera, I could hear and see her outrage. “He found me because my office is listed. There’s no way in hell I’d tell him that.”

  “Then there’s no way in hell he’ll find me.”

  Especially since, for all intents and purposes, I don’t live there anymore.

  “Are you okay?” She glanced from Brand back to the door. “You’re taking this well.”

  Translation: I’m not absolutely losing my shit.

  “I’m fine, promise,” I said.

  Alexander would keep me safe. But if, by some incredible feat, my father did find me, it wouldn’t matter. I wasn’t giving him an ounce of my attention, much less money. He had no power over me.

  I was in control.

  Hanging up with Aria—after promising we’d get together soon so I could tell her everything—I sat back and grabbed the remote. “Ready?”

  “Flower.” Alexander’s voice was filled with warning, and it filled me with something completely different and far more enjoyable.

  “Hmm?”

  “I thought you said your parents are dead.”

  “They are.”

  “Then I think you should be a little more concerned your father is out to find you, seeing as he’s a zombie and all.”

  I couldn’t hold back a smile. Since he loved my smile, I was also hoping it’d get me out of the doghouse—or, in my case, the chicken coop—for lying to him. “If you insist on getting into semantics, he’s not dead in the strictest of terms.”

  “So he’s alive.”

  “Technically. But he’s dead to me. He has been for years.” I twisted the ends of my hair around my fingers. “My mother was overbearing and cruel. My father wasn’t. He was negligent and dismissive. He didn’t care about me. I wasn’t even sure he remembered I existed most of the time.”

  “That sounds like shit.”

  “Trust me, I lucked out. Aria had it way worse. She was his pet project.” At his silence, my lips quirked. “Now that you know the Dillons put the D in drama, are you having second thoughts about being with me?”

  I’d meant to keep it light, but an undercurrent of worry threaded my tone.

  Fisting my hair, Alexander tugged so my face was pointed up, making a delicious sting travel across my scalp. “Never. I’m thinking it’s a wonder you’re even functioning after all you’ve been through. I’m also thinking about how strong you are.”

  I opened my mouth, and his mouth set in a line, waiting for me to argue.

  Partially to keep him on his toes—but mostly because he was kinda right—I said, “I have to be strong to lead my chick army.”

  I may not have been normal like Aria, but I was still there. Still trying.

  Still functioning.

  That had to count for something.

  I got a closeup view of his honey eyes warming just before he kissed me. It was as hot as ever, but also loaded with love and tenderness.

  Settling in with his arm wrapped around my shoulders, I grabbed the remote, determined to finish the movie. Before I could press play, I was interrupted—again. Only that time, it was Alexander.

  “So about making a habit of big gifts…”

  A sense of foreboding—or maybe it was anticipation—washed over me. “Yes?”

  “Does that mean Briar Isle is a no-go?” he joked.

  At least, I hoped it was a joke.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Shatter

  Briar

  For precise technology

  “ARE YOU SURE about this?”

  Alexander wasn’t annoyed or snarky or pissed—though I’d be all three if I were him. I’d asked the same question at least twenty times during our short drive. Instead, he was reassuring and patient. “Positive.”

  “It’s a big decision. I don’t want you to make it impulsively.”

  “You’re almost completely moved in. This is nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing.” I wrapped my arms around Mr. Worldwide—the pit bull, not the Pitbull. “Pet adoption should never be taken lightly.”

  “We already have seven pets at home in their coop,” he pointed out.

  “Those don’t count. They’re not technically pets.” He didn’t have to point out the obvious with that one. My stomach soured at my own words. “Never mind, they are. But a dog is different.”

  “And you will be just as amazing with him as you are with the chicks.”

  He always knew what to say to make me feel better. I needed the reassurance because it wasn’t him I was worried about.

  It was me.

  Adopting Mister was a huge step. One of many I’d been taking. I worried I wouldn’t be good enough. I was a good auntie to Muppet, but he went back to Aria at the end of the day. I would be completely responsible for Mister.

  What if I left chocolate out?

  What if I left raisins out?

  I didn’t buy raisins because they were the devil’s chocolate chips, but what if I lost my mind, bought them, and then left them out?

  He pulled into his garage and turned off the car. When I didn’t get out, he put his hand on my thigh and squeezed. Mister went nuts, licking his hand and snarfling, but Alexander’s attention was all for me. “He already loves you, so you’ve been doing this right a lot longer than you realize. Only now, he gets to love you in a big house with a lot of land instead of in a small cage.”

  As far as pep talks went, that was pretty much the best I’d heard.

  “Thank you.” I got out, keeping a tight hold on Mister’s leash in case he went running.

  He didn’t.

  He sat at my feet and licked his crotch.

  Typical dude.

  My cell began ringing, the high tone making Mister whine.

  Pulling it from my purse, my brows lowered when I saw the center’s number. I hadn’t missed an appointment or anything.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  Someone on the other end began talking, and once my brain processed their frantic words, the foundation of my world was rocked so hard, I worried it would shatter.

  That I would shatter.

  Happiness.

  So fleeting.

  Alexander

  SHIT.

  Briar had just fallen asleep when my cell began vibrating on the table. I was tempted to let it go to voicemail, but with the way shit had hit the fan earlier, I couldn’t.

  Carefully dislodging my arm from under her, I grabbed my phone on the way to the hallway. I closed the door quietly before answering, “Thornton.”

  “It’s Vitale,” he said, something I already knew.

  Brand.

  Shit, this can’t be good.

  I went on high alert. “What’s up?”

  “About that technology you didn’t want to share with the cops…”

  “What about it?”

  “How do you feel about sharing it with your future brother-in-law?”

  “Depends on what you need it for.”

  I didn’t know a lot about Aria’s man other than he was a firefighter. But there was something about him—and the Vitale name—that made me guess that wasn�
��t his only career.

  I would—and had—used my helicopter and resources to help. But I didn’t want my tech being used for things that’d draw attention. I had my own skeletons to keep buried.

  Literally.

  “Can you use it to track someone?”

  Easier than most people update their Facebook status.

  But again I said, “Depends on what you need it for.”

  “Astor Dillon.”

  Briar and Aria’s father. The man who’d made their childhoods hell. Then he’d continued to fuck with their happiness.

  Which meant I’d been out of my mind pissed.

  “You’ll have his location in ten.” I went down the stairs toward my office. “Let me know if you need help.”

  “I will.” But the way he said it made it clear he wouldn’t need it.

  Clicking off, I sat at my desk and started typing. The floor above me creaked, letting me know Briar was restless. I didn’t want her waking up without me there, so I got him Astor Dillon’s location in five.

  Then I went back upstairs to climb into bed with my woman and our stupidly named dog.

  As soon as I was under the covers, Briar grabbed me and rolled us so my body was mostly on hers. “Everything ‘kay?”

  “Everything’s good. Brand needed a favor.”

  She woke up a little more. “Is Aria okay?”

  “She’s fine, flower. He wanted help finding your dad.”

  “Were you able to?”

  I braced, unsure how she’d react. “Yes.”

  “Bet you did it fast, too. Like stealing candy from a book cover.”

  “Go back to sleep, you’re loopy.

  “Just happy,” she muttered. I thought she was asleep before she whispered, “I hope someone kills that bastard.”

  With the amount of people her father had crossed, she didn’t have to hope.

  It was a done deal.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Bummer

  Briar

  For lofty goals

  “HOW’RE YOU DOING?” I asked Jared after group.

  “Uh, good. You?”

  “Good. You haven’t been here the last couple of sessions.”

  “Yeah, we’re in our busy period at work, so it was mandatory overtime. Did I miss anything?”

 

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