by Elle Lincoln
“Okay,” I drawl, rubbing my chest, the memory of the pinch still fresh in my mind. “I will call my doctor anyway when I leave town tomorrow. I have to head to the post office.” I push up, glancing at the clock. It’s almost ten at night, far past my bedtime. I need jammies and food.
“No,” Christian growls at me.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t asking for your permission.” I swing around to look at him, noticing his fists are clenched tight. “I don’t even know you, so you can screw off.”
“Christian.” Athos holds up a hand, his head turning to look at the arrogant asshole. Their silence blankets the room, the only sounds coming from Liam banging around in the kitchen.
I look anywhere but at the floor. I’m not there yet, and I’m slowing building up my courage. Unfortunately, none of these brutes are the wizard behind the curtain here to gift me with courage, so I have to dig deep. Pretend I’m Grandma. The Mary, aka Grandma, would dive right in and treat this like a Nancy Drew novel.
I’m not that brave, but maybe I can pretend to be. Dad did teach me to pick a lock and jump start a car. Priorities.
“Sabina, I’d like for you to gift me with an ounce of your trust.” Oh, man bun is good. His voice slides through me, tugging at my core. I want to trust him, I need to trust him. It’s like his tone holds magical powers that demand I bend to his will. Tricky bastard. “Humor me, and if you insist on going outside Lunar Mile, take one of us with you.”
He almost has me with his silver tongue. “Why?”
“That’s something we have to discuss. But not tonight.” He steps forward, his body dwarfing mine, and hesitantly reaches out to touch me as though he just can’t help himself. “It’s a minor price to pay for our help tonight.”
“What the hell did you even help me with aside from telling me what to do while waking up? Not to mention the weird conversations you fools have been having.” I move out of his reach, and disappointment flickers in his gaze. I don’t back down. I fist my hands and plop them on my hips.
“Sabina, have a look around.” Athos spreads his hands wide while taking a lazy turn.
“I can’t.” Emotion clogs my throat once more, threatening to spiral me down into depression and panic.
Athos steps forward once again, his hands creeping up and gripping my face as he tilts my head toward his. “You don’t have to worry, we took care of the cabin. There is nothing here that will hurt you.”
Physical hurt, but he does not understand how much hurt I will always feel at losing my dad. That loss cuts too deep, and feels like my soul is ensnared in a bear trap.
His touch, however, comforts me, sweeping away the pain of my dad’s loss if only for the moment. Finally, I pull away to look, realizing he did take care of the mess. They cleaned. I want to be angry that perhaps he overstepped. Doing something that clearly should have been my responsibility. But all I feel is deep gratitude. I can focus on other things, like rifling through his office.
“Did you find anything?” I ask Athos. Christian may be the sheriff, but this man is in charge. It’s in his confidence and the way he speaks.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
I frown, stepping away. His hands drop, taking my cue to let go. He means well, of that I’m certain, but it is for me to worry about. “See, that’s where you are wrong.” I step around the couch, my gaze landing on the room I so often found comfort in.
A stone fireplace sits in the corner, rising up to the vaulted ceilings where a lazy fan sways, cooling the room with a slow breeze. The faded old couch that smells like my dad, and his La-Z-Boy recliners sit side by side. A tall window to the far right overlooks the indoor pool below, and a high-top cherry wood table sits in front of it. Behind that is a compact kitchen with marble countertops, and a small bar where more people can sit splits the dining room from the kitchen. A spiral staircase leads up to the loft where two bedrooms look down on everything through more indoor windows. And the entire place doesn’t hold a spec of dirt anymore.
Gone is the dust that I know would have settled around the room. Gone is the bloodstain. I don’t even know the owner, but I know my dad’s fate, and the likelihood it was his holds strong.
Nix stands in the corner like a sentry. He barely speaks. My eyes travel up and down his body, taking him in gently as he studies me right back. He’s shorter than the others, but just as bulky, maybe a little more. He’s wearing torn jeans and a t-shirt, and his curly black hair spirals to his shoulders. Inky brows sit low above cynical eyes that creep toward black. He’s dark and brooding, and a sense of danger wafts off of him, making me shiver.
I don’t hate it. In fact, I’m intrigued. A part of me needs to know more about him. I need to hear him talk. To hear him moan.
Wait... I shake my head. I’ve never been this boy crazy. Scratch that, man crazy. These men would definitely be my weekly man crush every freaking Monday.
“Cursed, cursed, cursed,” I whisper to myself, reminding my libido that to even like these men puts them in extreme danger where death is imminent. And to love? They’d never survive.
“What’s that, Damsel?” Christian drawls, almost curious.
“Nothing. I said nothing.” I dart around the couch and plop my ass onto the bar stool. “Liam, whatever you are cooking smells amazing, and my belly can’t wait to consume it.”
He flips something in a saucepan, glancing over his shoulder at me with a cheeky smile. “Anything for you, my ma—”
“Liam,” Athos interjects.
“What were you going to say?” These guys definitely have a secret brewing between them, and a part of me is dying to find out what it is.
“Nothing, doll face.” Liam flips pasta in the pan before dishing it up and sliding it over to me with a fork. “Eat up.” He leans on the shorter counter on the kitchen side, his gaze level with mine and a boyish grin splitting his face.
“Thanks.” I point my finger at him. “You going to eat?”
“Nope, we already ate.” His eyes twinkle, and I swear they glitter in that moment.
“So you are all just going to watch me eat?” That’s not weird.
“We hoped you’d talk.” Athos and the others close in on me. Christian leans against the fridge, Nix finds a corner to my left, and Liam doesn’t move from watching me. His eagerness is akin to a puppy or a very curious five-year-old. The latter I’m used to handling.
I twirl the pasta on my fork. “Talk about what?” I pop the lemony, buttery pasta in my mouth. Damn, this shit is good. “Never leave me, Liam.” My eyes close in bliss, but I don’t miss the hiss from his lips as it breezes over me.
“Anything for you,” he whispers playfully, his voice deepening. Husky enough to send a pulse of desire straight to my clit. Too soon. Back away. Back. Away. What were we talking about? Right, we hadn’t gotten there yet. I pop my eyes open and stare at Athos, his eyes hooded as he takes me in.
“Did your father ever mention what he did out here?” he asks.
“Right, so we are jumping right into the serious shit.” I blow out a breath, may as well dive into reality. No matter how much I want to pretend it isn’t real. “Not really. He found this place when I was ten. I remember little of the town. Dad picked me up, and I spent summers here. We’d fish down by the lake. There is a lake, right?” Why do I feel like I imagined that too?
“There’s a pond, doll face.” Liam points to my food. “Eat.”
Christian snorts, but weariness sets in, and my ire at him dissipates. That’s how I know I’m tired, when the fight just leaves me.
“I’m going to find out what happened to him,” I announce, as I push my pasta around on my plate. “I have to.” I rub at my chest as melancholy takes up residence in my heart. I need to know, like someone else is pulling those strings.
“We’ll help.” I jerk my head over to Nix’s velvety voice as his steady chocolate brown gaze settles on me. Appreciative warmth spreads through my body at his declaration.
Christian scoffs, “Damsel, we’ve been trying.”
“Then I’ll try harder.” My fork clanks on the plate, chipping the white ceramic. “You don’t understand. I have to know what happened.” I rub away the ache in my chest. “I can’t let it go.”
“Shit.” Athos rubs his hands down his face. “I don’t even know where to begin with this.”
“Easy, Alpha,” Liam cautions.
“I don’t need you to reprimand me, pup.” The amount of tension being slung around the room gives me a mild headache.
I rub my temples. “Look, guys, I appreciate everything you’ve done. I truly do. But I’d appreciate it more if you left.” A chorus of protests rises all around me, non-tired Sabina might enjoy a group of men not wanting to leave my side. But tired Bean? Yeah, she’s had enough. “Go, I need sleep.”
“Sabina, it isn’t safe.” Athos’s words send a chill up my spine.
“Explain, Alpha.” I mock their nickname for him, but all it does is increase the tension in the room three-fold.
Athos leans into my space, his jaw grinding and his nostrils flaring. I almost wish his septum had a fun little piercing through it. Honestly, it would suit him.
His hands snap out, bracketing me as they brace against the stool. “I’ll let that slide because you do not understand what you’ve walked into here. So until you do, I won’t make you submit to me. But remember this moment in the future.” He leans even closer, bringing with him the thrill of a summer night and sweaty silk sheets while the moon hangs high in the sky. I inhale him deeply, feeling as though I’ve tempted the wild. Damn if that doesn’t thrill me. “Know this, we haven’t caught your father’s murderer, and mark my words, we will, because whoever killed him, he let in. That glass is bulletproof. Every entryway in impenetrable.”
“In other words, Damsel. We don’t know if you are in danger.” Christian draws my attention to his mismatched eyes. He pushes off the fridge, shouldering Liam aside. “I’m a bettin’ man, and my gut says you, Damsel, just happened to be your father’s greatest secret. Now that secret is out, painting a target on your back.”
“Christian,” Liam growls, pushing him away. Christian just tips his head at me before stomping through the room and slamming through the front door.
Again, I rub the ache in my chest, because it feels like the arrogant prick took a piece of me with him. I shake that thought away, pack it up, and mail it off to Timbuktu. “What does that even mean?” I mumble, pushing my plate away.
Liam snatches it up, devouring what’s left before rinsing the plate all in one breath.
“That’s a conversation for another day, Sabina. But know this, if you leave this house, one of us will be there.” Athos’s words are a dark promise, stealing my independence and making me bristle. Though it lasts a mere moment before I realize I just might be in over my head here. His eyes stray to Liam and Nix before he nods.
Grumbling in protest, Liam leans in far too quickly for me to back away. Planting a quick kiss on my cheek, he darts back, leaving me to laugh at him.
“Bean.”
“What’s that?” Liam spins around, practically doing a victory dance at his stolen kiss.
“If I’m stuck with you brutes for the next month, then call me by my nickname. Bean.” I don’t admit it, but I don’t hate the fact that they want to keep me safe, especially because it’s a teensy-weensy insignificant fact I overlooked.
“Goodnight, Bean.” Liam smirks, and I swear he dances forward, intent on stealing a very different kind of goodnight kiss, until Athos reaches out and grabs his shirt, drawing him away.
“Lock the door when we leave, Sabina.” Athos nods, dragging Liam with him. Nix hardly even looks at me as they leave.
Sliding off my stool, I pad across the hardwood, and past where I know there should be a bloodstain. The locks slide shut with a clink. Peering outside, I look for the guys, and hear the rumble of a truck on the driveway as the headlights spill through the windows.
Yet, for some reason, I feel like they really didn’t leave me alone. Even weirder is the comfort I take in that fact.
Chapter 5
Sweat drips along my forehead, leaving a teasing trail along my face. Sheets tangle in my legs and around my torso, wrapping me up like a Bean burrito.
I snort to myself at my own mental joke.
I’m hot as hell, even though the air blasting from above me is ice-cold. My old room sits on the third floor, nothing fancy, just a bed and a dresser with a cute little side table Dad built. It also doesn’t cool down like the rest of the cabin, remaining hotter than the sauna in the pool house. Which means I stayed up all night twisting and turning.
Not to mention the dreams.
Sexy men surrounding me in my little room, their faces far too familiar. Half naked, wearing nothing but gray sweatpants. Muscular forms swim in my mind, which will surely leave my face burning when I see them next. All they did was stand over me, watching. Bare chested. Doing nothing.
Not even my dream men want to touch me.
See? Cursed.
I groan, burrowing my face into my pillow before I think better of it and dive under. Overhead, the morning sun blazes down on me from the skylight facing east. Dad placed it just so, allowing it to catch the morning’s rays. It is also the primary reason I feel like I’ve traveled to hell. The sun hasn’t even reached its peak, and it’s trying to kill me with those rays.
I kick off the sticky sheets, my night shorts shifting high up my body for my ass to eat unpleasantly. Although I’m not sure there is a pleasant way for an ass to eat shorts.
Jumping up, I right my cute little sleep set with kittens and polar bears, removing it from my ass cheeks before stomping to the bathroom I share with the room across the hall, and taking care of important business. Thankfully, Dad was a clean freak, and there are no urine stains here. Just the intoxicating scent of bleach that burns the senses and says, ‘hey, no germs here.’
Stomach grumbling, I swing open my door to the perfect morning scent. Bacon, eggs, cheese, and coffee. The only food groups a girl needs, to be honest.
That is the true secret to a girl’s heart—food. If a man can keep his girl fed, then she is a ride or die kind of bitch. No food. No ride. It’s that simple.
It’s also why I will forgive the man who’s cooking for sneaking into the house at the crack of dawn before I woke up. As I step down onto the landing, I catch Liam as his head bobs to a beat that only he can hear as he plates food and pours coffee.
I watch in perverted silence as his tight jeans cup his ass and his white shirt stretches across his back. I can just make out the hint of a tattoo down his spine, and I can’t help but wonder if he’d let me lick the symbols residing there.
Bad Bean. No tongue licking, you’ve known this guy for all of twenty-four hours, not even.
Yet the succubus in my shorts gives not one care and wants to climb him like a tree.
What. The. Hell.
Shaking away my lusty thoughts, I creep down the steps, avoiding all the pesky little slats that create noises, then I pad over to the bar all while watching Liam as he dances around my kitchen. A smile steals across my face as he twists and turns and grinds, lighting a fire in my core. I slide onto the stool, staring as Liam’s entire body freezes then shudders before he turns slowly. His light eyes darken then lower, and his nostrils flare. He pops out his earbuds and places them on the counter before leaning across the island toward me.
Sapphire blue eyes eat me up with a hunger that floods me with desire. My heart thumps wildly in my chest. The look he gives me is the kind women wish for all their lives. Liam is a beast who would devour me in a heartbeat if I only said yes.
Still, the attraction and the irrational desire that damn near burns me alive makes me hesitate. I lean back just slightly, wondering when I’d leaned into the counter. Shaking the waves of lust away, I clear my throat.
“Hungry?” Liam’s voice is all sex and promises and enough to leave me brea
thless. My nipples harden and my breasts become heavy as his eyes flicker to my chest, watching them try to pierce the fabric of my tank.
He is asking about that plate of food, right? “You made breakfast.”
His crooked smile lets me know he sure as hell is not talking about breakfast, but if he wants in these shorts, he will have to work for it. Maybe. Probably not, but still, it’s the thought that counts even if I don’t have full control of my body right now.
He could have control of your body.
Nope. Behave, internal dialog. You hussy.
He inhales long and slow once more before pushing himself back to grab a fork and coffee. Never taking his eyes off of me, he slides the two over with that devil-may-care smile.
“When do you have to go into town?” Subject change.
Thank you.
“My grocery pickup is at nine.” I grab the coffee complete with a dash of sugary cream and sip the blessed elixir. “Are you my shadow today?” I taunt with a smile.
Yet my words have the opposite effect on him than desired. His eyes shudder and his lips pinch together. “I know you don’t believe us, but it really is to keep you safe.”
Him, I believe. Maybe it’s just the energy he exudes and the genuine tone to each careful word. Or the smile that holds more warmth and compassion than any other guy my age. All I know is I like him, and I really want to get to know him more. He’s too far away to ease with a touch, so I try for words instead. “I understand, Liam.” I shake my head, reality drifting through my morning lust haze. “I do understand. Honestly, no one told me what happened, but I knew. I knew that Dad would never leave me by choice.” I rub the ache in my chest. “Until I got here, I didn’t know for sure it was murder. Mom only told me he died in the woods. Not how. Not why.”
“Doll face, I’m so sorry.” His fists clench as though my pain alone bothers him. “Believe me, none of us will rest until we find out who killed him. I swear to you. We just haven’t gotten a single lead with the house closed up and the storms.”