Falling for Them Volume 3: Reverse Harem Collection

by Amy Sumida

  His whole face lit up like a beacon, and he grinned again. Those stupid butterflies returned to my stomach. “Yeah, I will. See you after class, Sera.”

  I sighed as I headed into practicum. I needed to keep my distance, but instead they seemed to be tearing down my walls.

  ~

  JJ grabbed my wrist as I left the gym Friday. I twisted to his direction, spearing him with a glare. He grinned at me. Infuriating nincompoop.

  “Got plans this weekend?” Those golden eyes sparkled as he flipped a lock of black hair out of his eyes. The damn butterflies made themselves known. I didn’t say anything as I slid my wrist out of his grasp and walked off. Though I couldn’t help glancing over my shoulder before I left the gym. JJ stood in the same spot grin splitting his face. He gave me one of those head bob things guys did, winked, and headed to the locker rooms.

  I managed to make it to my room without an encounter with the warden and promptly locked the door. It didn’t always keep Aguirre out but sometimes she hesitated before coming in. Plus, it gave me some warning. Besides, I needed to catch up on my homework. The warden kept me busy with pointless chores and shit most nights until lights out. It made me decide to invest in a flashlight while in town this weekend, in order to work on homework after lights out. I might possess one hell of an attitude, but I took pride in good grades.

  Somehow, I made it through to bedtime without a visit from the warden. I didn’t dare leave my room that night, even for dinner. If I didn’t have chores from the warden, I hid out behind my locked door. A large part of me missed cooking.

  By Saturday morning, my stomach gnawed on my backbone. Quickly I stripped, did all the usual morning things and threw on some clothes for chilling. Later, I wanted to grab a few things from the store, but right now my stomach took priority.

  I made it four steps out the door before a bruising grip nearly sent me to my knees. The searing pain, however, did. The fucking bitch was a heater, same as me! Elementum could be hurt by their element if someone else controlled it. And her years of experience over me, made her far more powerful.

  Trying to tear my arm out of her grip, I pulled against her hold. Her fingertips sent pain shooting through me in pulses, and the smell of burning flesh warned me of burns as well as bruises. Still I struggled against her grip, fighting to keep from crying out. The warden thrust a piece of paper at me.

  “You got some chores to do, little brat,” she sneered.

  Going limp, I took the paper. I learned quickly to do the damn chores. It wasn’t worth the consequences of saying no. She released my arm only to grab a fistful of hair and yank hard before walking off.

  The chores meant skipping breakfast. She was predictable, and I knew she would check on my progress in half an hour and what would happen if she disapproved of my work. As I walked out into the living room, salvation strolled through the front door.

  I swear nothing could be as beautiful as those three boys when they turned their smiles on me. Light filtered through the door and seemed to surround them. Brooks’ arm rested on Souta’s shoulders, and all three of them laughed and smiled. I couldn’t remember a moment in my life where I was happy and carefree, strolling in the sun with someone close.

  JJ raised his head, caught my eyes and grinned. He lightly smacked Brooks arm, and then jogged over to wrap me in a hug. I stiffened, the action taking me by surprise. I didn’t like being hugged. Even May didn’t do it after the time I went stiff and nearly passed out. I knew she wanted to, I could tell every time we met up, but casual touch never happened to me. I didn’t know what to do with it or how to react to it.

  I pulled out of JJ’s embrace, smiling to take away the sting as I wrapped my arms around my middle. He didn’t seem bothered, though.

  “What are you guys doing here?”

  Footsteps behind me made me stiffen again. I knew the stride and it never led to anything good.

  “We want to take you out, introduce you to Marysville.” Souta beamed at me.

  I cast a wary glance backward, though the warden remained out of my line of sight.

  “Miss Embers, a word please.” Her clipped stride faded back down the hall. I swallowed hard, my smile falling.

  “Give me a sec, ’kay?” I turned without waiting for the boys’ response, following the steps. I didn’t want to, but I refused to find out what she would or wouldn’t hesitate to do in front of them At least this way I could hide anything she did.

  I tried to keep enough space between us to discourage her physical attacks. Sometimes it worked, not this time. Her hand whipped out and clamped hard around my wrist. I bit my tongue to keep from hollering as the skin under her hand seared and blistered again. My bones strained against the vise grip of her hand. She yanked me toward her, close enough for me to notice the gleam in her eyes turn manic. Her face changed, going from stern and bitchy to downright frightening. Faces like the one she wore now often peered out at me from the covers of some of the more disturbing biographies I read. A shudder ran down my spine.

  “I can’t stop you from going with those boys,” she spat out.

  Her grip tightened, and the smell of searing flesh assaulted my nose. I bit my lip to keep from crying out against the pain when she twisted my wrist.

  “But I can make sure you regret it.” The snarl accompanied a fast, sharp yank and twist of her hand.

  I couldn’t hold back the whimper or the tears as pain skittered through my bones, and she shoved me backward into the wall.

  “Enjoy your day in town.” Her face twisted in cruel mockery.

  As she walked away, I wondered if I witnessed the birth of a psychopath. Letting out a small sob, I cradled my swelling wrist, against my chest. I didn’t know how I would manage to hide my injured wrist from the guys. The warden didn’t make idle threats. She would make me suffer for this.

  I shouldn’t go. I should stay and do the damn chores she wanted and lock myself in my room. She would make me pay either way. No way she would believe I didn’t arrange this. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I stumbled the few feet to my door, and shoved my way through, heading for the bathroom. Good thing I kept a stocked first aid kit.

  A minute later I cursed as I dug through the kit only to realize I didn’t own a wrap. Shit! Now what? I leaned against the counter, staring at myself in the mirror. This morning I tied my blue bandana over my bright red hair, covering some of the earrings running up my left lobe. With torn tights under cut off jean shorts, motorcycle boots and a large, slouchy blue sweater, I knew I gave off a bit of a punk vibe. Inspiration hit, and I went over to my jewelry box, digging around until I found what I searched for. I wrapped the wide, royal blue leather strap around my injured wrist and pulled it snug through the catch. Embossed with flames and flowers, and long enough to wrap several times around my wrist, it made a halfway decent substitute for a wrist wrap.

  Experimentally, I turned my wrist. Pain shot through it, but the squeeze of the leather wrap helped a bit. Unlike when I broke my ankle, my wrist only swelled a small amount. I likely wouldn’t be doing a whole lot with my wrist for a while, though. I popped a couple ibuprofen, using my hands to catch a little water from the sink to wash them down. A quick glance in the mirror assured me nothing stood out as odd.

  When I made my way back to where the guys waited, trying not to move my injured wrist while appearing totally natural, I found them leaning against the wall near the door. Souta caught sight of me first, a wide smile lighting up his face as he practically flew across the room to engulf me in another huge hug. I sucked in a short, surprised breath and stiffened automatically before reminding myself not to. Though I didn’t return the hug, I forced myself to relax. Souta narrowed his eyes and made me wonder if I should try to hug back.

  Instead, I backed up and moved my gaze to JJ and Brooks. JJ raked his gaze over me, a spark jumping to life and lighting them up in gold. Brooks strolled forward, took my unwrapped hand in his and raised it to his lips. His warm breath ghosted over my knu
ckles, and a shiver ran down my spine.

  “Come on!” Souta grabbed my hand, the good one thankfully, and pulled me toward the door. “We got a lot to do today, and you are gorgeous by the way. Love the torn tights, boots and leather wrap bracelet, where did you get it?”

  I didn’t know how to react to him or what to say, instead I made a noncommittal noise as JJ took my hand from Souta. His thumb stroked over my palm and those damn butterflies took off again. His smile stretched a bit wider, making me wonder if he caught some hint of my butterflies. As we followed Brooks and Souta out, I wondered what on earth I got myself into.

  Chapter Five

  The guys took me to a little Italian joint called Cristiano’s. By the time we made it to the restaurant, lunchtime rolled around and nearly twenty-four hours passed since I last ate. They raved about the pizza, and like any teenager, I loved pizza, but their fried ravioli caught my eye, and my mouth watered at the description. When they came out all steamy and crisp and smelling like a plate full of heaven, my stomach growled loudly. The guys chattered, trying to draw me into the conversation, but the ravioli held my focus. I couldn’t care less about whatever the guys talked about.

  When I bit into the ravioli warm, melty, delicious cheese exploded with flavor in my mouth. I suspected I died and went to heaven. A tiny moan slipped out as I dipped it into the pesto aioli and took another bite. My eyes drifted shut as I enjoyed the pure deliciousness of the ravioli, my mind rapidly evaluating them to try to copy the recipe at home. Three of delicious little morsels got eaten before I registered the silence of the table.

  As I sucked some of the pesto from my fingers, I opened my eyes and glanced around. The boys sat, all their eyes trained on me, pupils blown wide. Souta and Brooks hands clasped the table in white knuckled grips. Beside me, JJ breathed in short, ragged pants, and he squirmed in his seat.

  Before I could figure out their weird behavior, the low sounds of wanton moaning reached my ears. Startled, I realized the sound came from me. I pulled my finger out of my mouth as the heat crawled up my face.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  Even through my embarrassment, I wondered at Brooks’ and Souta’s reactions. JJ’s reaction made sense, though. Not being blind, I caught on to his obvious interest in the past week. Souta and Brooks didn’t seem to be the kind of couple to be completely wrapped up in each other, but I never noticed any signs of interest from either of them.

  Could it be possible I missed them, given their personalities? Souta flirted with everyone. I never took his flirting with me seriously. Brooks tended to stay quietly in the background most of the time, but he often held doors for me and the like. After noticing the barest hint of a twang, I wrote it off as southern gentlemanly manners.

  The brush of fingers against my cheek drew me out of my head. Glancing around, I noticed something on their faces, something I found mildly uncomfortable. JJ gave me a smile filled with secrets, making my insides squirm. Not good with people, I never got close to anyone. All this attention made me want to bolt faster than an eight-legged critter.

  Instead, I grinned and grabbed up a slice of pizza. “Isn’t this pizza supposed to be the best on the planet? You guys keep sitting there, and I’ll eat it all. Don’t think I can’t.”

  My words broke through whatever stupor they fell into with my impromptu ravioli show and it didn’t take long for the pizza to disappear. A spirited debate on what to do next followed. I sat back and watched them, still failing to understand why they wanted me to join their group. It hurt being close to people and then leaving them behind, but a certain date crept closer. A date meaning I might not need to leave people behind. If it happened, I didn’t know how I would handle things. Perhaps, I could figure it out with the guys help, though.

  “Hey guys,” I interrupted them. They quieted, turning their gazes my direction. “I have plenty of time to play tourist in the city. We could...I don’t know...spend time getting to know each other?”

  Oh, god, could I sound any lamer?

  Wide grins spread over the guys’ faces, and their eyes meet in a silent, three-way conversation. They dragged me out of the booth, paying the check and dropping a tip on the table in the process.

  JJ kept hold of my hand as we made our way to some unknown-to-me destination. A sense of comfort and rightness shot through me even as I mentally freaked out a little. We hit a residential section, and I realized we must be headed to one of the guys’ house.

  Our final destination wasn’t much different than the others we passed. We approached a simple home, single story with a well-kept and fenced yard. JJ led us to a gate on the side of the house and around to the back. A large building took up a good portion of the back yard. I hesitated to call it a shed and discovered the truth when JJ led us inside.

  A gasp escaped at the sight greeting me. The large interior split into two distinct spaces. Walls of windows lined two sides of one half, letting huge amounts of natural light stream in. The entrance wall contained shelves lined with tools I couldn’t imagine the purpose of and stacked bins held chunks of stone and other materials pried from the earth. A large cabinet sat in a corner next to a blank canvas on an easel. Two pedestals sat in the center of the space, one about waist height and average width and the other shorter and wider. The short, wide pedestal contained a work in progress, if the large sheet meant anything. My fingers itched to yank the sheet away and discover what beauties it hid. I loved a well-done art piece and admired anyone who created them. My best art consisted of kindergarten level people and cars.

  Fingers grasped hold of my chin and directed my attention to the other half of the large room. I wanted to whoop and jump and high five them, but my wrist hurt enough from lunch and the walk over. The other half of the space held instruments, a drum set, bass, and a mic with another bass and a couple guitars on the wall. A garage style, rolling door took up one wall. The simple space seemed like a practice area. Or so I believed. Another gentle twist from the fingers still holding my chin, led me to a glass partition and the small sound studio setup beyond.

  My eyes went wide, revealing my excitement, and the guys grinned. Souta released my chin to high five Brooks and JJ. I didn’t know what to comment on first. Instead, I walked over and sank onto the black leather bench in the practice space.

  “Sing for me?” I begged, craving to hear one of them.

  Music was my first love, my escape, my addiction. I liked to sing and could hold a tune, but my real love rested in guitar. Everything inside me screamed to grab up one of the beauties on the wall and wail away, but I knew my wrist couldn’t take it.

  The boys moved, and I grinned when they took up their instruments. Their choices made perfect sense, fitting into their personalities.

  Brooks hid himself behind the drums, while JJ took up the bass with a wink in my direction, and Souta held the mic in both hands, a wide grin on his face, and the tap of his foot revealing his need to move. With his outgoing personality and flirty nature, Souta made the perfect front man for a band.

  They tore into a rendition of one of my favorite rock songs. Souta moved like liquid sex, his voice a sultry growl rolling over me, in complete contrast to his delicate appearance. I loved his almost feminine features, the beauty of him comparable to a sculpture or a painting. He removed his glasses for the mini show, and without them, his whole appearance transformed. Still beautiful, he seemed at the same time rougher. His voice cast a spell on me. I lost myself to the music, and my eyes drifted closed.

  ~

  “Sera? Sera.” A soft voice pulled me from sleep. My wrist banged against the couch, and I bit back a cry. JJ’s golden gaze greeted me. His hand brushed a lock of bright, neon-red hair out of my eyes, and then trailed down the side of my face. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You missed the show.”

  “What can I say? You guys were just that dull.” The response left my lips before I could censor myself, my defense mechanism kicking in. I swore when hurt flashed across his face, but it passed
quickly, and I told myself I imagined it.

  “Yeah, I know. We need an actual guitarist. I know I got skills, but bass alone doesn’t cut it.” He reached for me, but I stood before he could grab hold of my injured wrist. I couldn’t let them catch on. Who knew what Aguirre would do if the guys knew about her abuse? I nodded at the art studio half of the space.

  “Who’s the artist?” I figured I knew the answer. I could easily imagine Souta in there. “Is it Souta’s space? Do you think he’d mind if I looked?”

  The howl of laughter stopped me dead. “Sou... Souta?” I glanced at JJ to find him wiping a tear from his eye. “Souta does not have the patience for sculpture. Not to mention he’s a bit, um, distractible? He’d start one, then go to another and never manage to finish.” JJ’s laughter finally died, and he leaned over, kissing my cheek. “After all my drawings on your neck, and I know you’ve seen my sketchbook, you went to Souta as the artist?” As he said it, heat crawled up my neck at my stupidity. “It’s my studio, Sera. And no, I don’t mind if you see.” His gaze softened as he grasped my hand and led me over to the other space.

  The quick whip of a hand removed the sheet from JJ’s work in progress. The piece underneath took my breath away. Smooth, shiny stone, like granite although I couldn’t be sure, formed a structure standing waist high to me. Each side revealed a separate element with the colors matching. The green speckled side contained a tree merging seamlessly into blue speckled waves and then melding into silvery gray speckled swirls. The final side revealed the beginnings of red speckled flames. Something carved into the finished sides made me move closer to inspect the marks. I found the guys’ names.

  “It’s stunning. What will it be when finished?” I could imagine a tall vase, one of those uber-expensive types you found in the entryways of mansions and palaces.