Perfection of Suffering (The Shadows of Wildberry Lane Book 1)
Page 2
Catching my reflection in the mirror, I adjusted my sundress slightly, the soft candy-apple red material smoothing under my tan fingers and bright nails. This past summer I’d gotten far more bronze than normal, mostly because I’d been so damn bored that the only thing to do was lay out by the pool with my mom. Luckily, she didn’t work directly for her family company, so I at least had someone to spend most of my time with, and as an unexpected result, this summer was the most relaxed I’d probably ever been. Although, I knew it was somewhat of a calm before the storm, because nothing ever stayed that simple in my life.
Looking over my mom’s expression, I took the time to appreciate the fact that in some ways, we almost did look related biologically. I mean, most people didn’t realize I was adopted unless it somehow came up in conversation. Of course, there were small differences in our appearance. For one, my dark hair had a bit more of a red undertone than hers, but we had the same wavy texture that couldn’t stay straight unless we were taking one of our cold weather vacations. Right now, mine laid down to my shoulderblades, but you would never know that, because unless it was under eighty-five degrees, I had it pulled back in a braid.
I absolutely hated the feeling of sweaty hair on the back of my neck. I knew it was a silly thing to hate, but it just made me feel… twitchy. Because I’m clearly normal.
Unlike myself, my mom had dark, kind eyes that were similar to my father’s. Mine, on the other hand, were a bright, leaf-green shade that was accented by a gold starburst around the pupil that created quite the contrast when I was tan. I personally loved my eyes, or had, but I’d been made fun of enough in high school and told—not asked, but told—that they were contacts that I’d found myself somewhat uncomfortable with them now.
I hated that I let others affect my confidence that much, but what else was new? It felt like that had been the theme of the past year, and it was turning me into a version of myself that I wasn’t completely comfortable with.
At least now that I had graduated, there was no high school bullshit to worry about. Now, did that mean I was totally free from all that crap? No. No, of course not. As with any Southern community, there was an expectation to stay close, so most kids did.
It helped that Silver Oak, a tiny, private college that was located only two miles outside of our town, served the needs of most of the residents that planned to take over their family businesses. Everyone assumed that the wealthy and rich went to the Ivy Leagues, and sure, that was true… just not around here. In our world, connections mattered far more than where you finished your degree, so the sooner you began working, the better. I knew that some from our high school class would leave for college in the fall, but with my luck, every single person I wanted to avoid would stay right here, right outside the gates of Wildberry Lane, waiting for an opportunity to pull some crap. It was just my luck when it came to stuff like that.
I swallowed that thought down, trying to not dwell on the insecurities that plagued me. Not today. Not freakin’ today.
“Kingston is here.”
That completely paused any train of thought as my head snapped towards my mom, my eyes widening as she flashed a smile, knowing how happy that would no doubt make me. She had absolutely no idea.
Kingston was back? I blinked before a huge grin filled my face, her laugh filling my bedroom as I immediately slid past her, rushing through my room and into the hallway.
Most women my age probably would have spent the summer before college hanging out with their girlfriends. The only problem was, I didn’t have any. I mean, besides my mom, but did that really count? I just had never gotten along with the girls my age, and that was before… well, before everything got worse.
I did have friends, though.
They just happened to be from Wildberry Lane and consisted completely of the exact opposite of girls. They were guys. They were my guys, more specifically. I am sure that our parents had pushed us together as children for convenience and safety, but now that I was older, I knew it was far more than that. I knew that because I’d personally, even in high school, had to deal with people attempting to get close to us purely for personal gain. It had left me with a fierce sense of protectiveness over our small group, and that wasn’t just on my end, either. When you had people trying to constantly use you, it was fairly easy to realize just who you could trust and who you couldn’t.
I imagine that in private conversations, our little group was called an array of horrible names, but never out loud or to our faces. Most people were terrified of my guys, and I really didn’t understand it.
Okay… maybe that was a bit of denial on my end. I knew my guys had their shadows, and I knew they were a far cry from the boys I’d grown up with. Not only were they very much not boys, but they had a dark edge to them that I found myself eager to explore. Their darkness should have scared me, but… I wasn’t the same either, and I was starting to learn that everyone had their shadows. You just had to decide which shadows were the ones worth embracing.
Of course, no one was perfect, but they were pretty damn close. Were they a bit overbearing? Possibly. Okay, yes. Ridiculously, almost cruelly, handsome? Unfortunately. The men that I’d fallen in love with? Yeah… that was a bit of a long story. But I could never be scared of them. That was just our dynamic, and I knew they would never hurt me.
I wasn’t in the business of changing who they were. I loved them exactly for who they were. I was just hoping that they could love me for who I was… which I was finding had a lot of darkness and flaws that had been relatively ignored until they had been brought to my attention by force. Now there was no way to ignore them.
For my first two years of high school, I lived in somewhat of a bubble. Between one of them always being with me and spending all of my time with them outside of school, I never heard anything negative about us, so it was easy to ignore the looks that other students offered us.
Then things had started to change, and I don’t just mean that my boys had turned into unfairly sexy, tall, muscular men—which they had, for the record. No, this change had been more subtle. Their intensity had grown, and a dark edge had come to light that I wasn’t exactly cautious about, per se, but somewhat excited to explore. I knew that was a dangerous way to look at it, but I couldn’t help the urge to metaphorically poke the bear.
I also was aware that their harder edge was somewhat necessary, because showing any weakness in this town was a horrible idea. It was easy to pretend that my mom didn’t subscribe to that notion, but I’d heard rumors of how the Wildberry Lane residents were with others outside of our ‘family,’ and it was a far cry from the friendly faces I saw on a daily basis. Unfortunately, it seemed I was the only one to not get the memo, because I found myself constantly surprised by the fear I saw in others’ faces in reference to not only my boys, but also my own father. It had been only two days ago, when we’d stopped to grab some coffee for mom after a morning tennis lesson, that I’d seen the concept in action.
My father and I had run into someone’s father—I couldn’t tell you who they were, but I recognized their face from school events—and the guy had turned into an unfortunate rambling mess. It had been extremely awkward to watch, and despite being able to, my father hadn’t alleviated the tension at all, just ending the conversation with something about getting the paperwork to him by next week. I honestly couldn’t tell you what they had been talking about, and my father, moments later, had been back to his upbeat self as he asked me about Spotify and if he should get an account.
…Yeah, he was a bit of a dork.
Yet, despite the fear that my family and my guys seemed to conjure, they still couldn’t completely stop the rumors and comments that had started circulating about my friends and I as we’d gotten older. I didn’t know if my boys heard them or not, and I hadn’t brought it up to them yet, because even if I did, we all knew people would gossip if they wanted to. It was practically human nature, and I had no intention of stressing them out more than they al
ready were.
Overall, the comments hadn’t bothered me all that much, and probably wouldn’t have affected me… if they hadn’t turned so cruel. So vindictive. So harsh. I frowned, wondering how much of a different person I’d be if this past year had never happened.
I needed to tell them how bad it had gotten.
It was a constant source of guilt in my head, warning me that I needed to let my guys know what was going on. I was hesitant, though, and it wasn’t just that I felt like they were hiding something from me. We told one another almost everything, always. So what could be bad enough that they wouldn’t feel comfortable telling me?
I put those thoughts aside for now, knowing that they could wait until I was alone tonight. Plus, nothing could stop me from seeing King. It had been all damn summer.
Chapter Two
Dahlia Aldridge
My pulse beat fast, my bare feet hitting the marble staircase as I easily raced down two flights, pushing any remaining negative thoughts from my head. It was fairly easy, considering King was only seconds away. The entire circular staircase wound down through a massive tower that went up nearly five stories to a glass ceiling, each wall heavy with greenery and open windows that let that sweet scent of my mother’s garden in from outside. My heart was on hyper speed, and when I saw the first glimpse of my best friend, an impossible-to-control smile broke onto my face.
My best friend, who had been gone all summer. Damn him. I mean, I knew it was necessary, especially since he was going to be taking over his father’s company one day, but I had hated when he’d left. Even more, I had hated the thought that he might love it there and never come back home. King had promised me he would, but I’d been hesitant to be hopeful.
I should have known better. King was a man of his word. Always.
It helped that he also had called me every single morning, right after waking up, just to ask how I was doing. Yes, I was aware. The man was going to end up breaking my heart. The memory of him leaving that first day of summer slammed through my consciousness, making me sick to my stomach before reminding myself that his absence was over. He was essential to my life.
“Are you sure you packed everything?” I asked quietly. We were standing in the middle of our cul-de-sac, my other guys standing nearby, no doubt hoping to escape the possible waterworks that could occur. I cried at inspirational Olympic commercials and cute kittens, so their worry was valid.
Kingston squeezed my hand, his dry-cleaned button-down and dress pants rather casual for him. Yet, even when wearing a tux, the man maintained an effortless ease that only someone like him could perfect. I nearly sighed like a lovesick idiot, but I was caught off guard at the sadness in his gaze. It was rare to see such vulnerable and blunt emotion on his face, so it had my heart squeezing in concern.
“Everything but you,” he admitted. “Are you positive you don’t want to come with?”
Oh, I wanted to go. I also didn’t want to be too clingy. A hard balance for someone like me.
“You’ll be back in August, right?” I whispered, my voice threatening to break.
King, knowing me as well as he did, wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on top of my head as I breathed in his comforting, familiar scent.
“Of course. You’re back here, Dahlia. Make sure to leave your phone on ring so I can call you. I’m going to miss the sound of your voice, so I’ll need to hear it. Often.” His chuckle at the end of that had me blushing.
I was always torn between wanting to believe his sweet words and taking them as him teasing me. I was clueless when it came to him and all of the others. Maybe I would finally figure out my shit this summer and tell them how I felt.
One could hope.
Without another word, while holding back my tears, I stepped away as he got into his family’s car. The driver waved us off, and I stood in the center of our street until my mom called me in for dinner. The rest of the night I’d been plagued with the concern that I’d never see him again.
That those words had been our last.
Thank the lord they hadn’t been. I’d been thrilled to receive a message from him once he was on his family jet, and then when he had video chatted with me once arriving, I’d felt a ton better. My heart squeezed extra hard as I turned the last rounded corner of the staircase.
Kingston Ross.
Heir to his father’s multi-billion-dollar international shipping company and son to two really kick-ass parents that didn’t fit the mold of what you would expect from money like theirs. No, the Ross family was all smiles and welcoming hugs, at least to me. Like I said, I’d heard different rumors, but I wasn't very liable to believe gossip. It didn’t surprise me that his parents were so unique, considering that Kingston was truly something else.
From as early as I could remember, I’d attached myself to him at the hip so that he would have to be my friend. Even at a young age, I could see how vibrant he was and how everyone seemed to hang on his every word. I hadn’t been any different. Growing up, that connection we seemed to have was comforting, but now it was… different. Now there was a side to it that I didn’t know how to handle, and it didn’t help that the man was sexy as sin and absolutely brilliant.
Unfortunately, I had yet to tell him that I no longer wanted to be friends. It had become increasingly obvious to me over the course of the summer that I could no longer handle just being friends with him. The intensity with which I had missed him made my feelings just a bit too clear. Although, for the record, he was a fantastic friend… I just wanted more from him.
Hearing my footsteps, Kingston turned from where he’d been looking out one of the large windows, his bright, spring green eyes focusing fully on me. A smile that had my throat catching broke out on his tanned face as sunlight glinted off his honey blonde hair. I wasn’t embarrassed to admit that I essentially launched myself at the man, his massive, muscular arms catching me easily. Instantly, I was wrapped up against him, trying to get as close as humanly possible to his hot, 6’3’’ muscular frame. I inhaled the smell of his cologne, a rich, smoky scent like cigars accented with vanilla that reminded me of… well, home. Kingston was my home. It was that simple and that complicated.
“Dahlia.” His smooth, deep voice had me looking up at him as his large hand ran through my hair, smoothing it back in a familiar gesture while looking over my, no doubt flushed expression. “You look absolutely stunning, princess.”
See?! Do you see what I mean? What was I supposed to do with that?!
My eyes almost watered at the relief of being in his arms as I tried not to read into his sweet words, reminding myself that he probably didn’t feel the same way that I did. I was totally attributing more meaning to them than was there. I needed to just chill the heck out.
King placed me down gently, my feet touching the floor as my fingers smoothed over his light blue linen suit coat.
“I missed you so much, King,” I admitted, not embarrassed in the least, because it was completely true.
His large hand cupped my jaw gently as his eyes sparked with something hot and darker than usual, making me shiver. “I missed you too, more than you know.”
His forehead pressed to mine as I let out a small breath. Breaking our connection, he pulled back and flashed me a small smile. “I only arrived back about five minutes ago. I dropped my stuff and came over to see you. Of course.”
“Oh, of course,” I drew out, tapping his nose in amusement.
I loved the little rhetoric game we had played since we were in middle school. Always starting interactions or explanations between us with an ‘of course’—as if it should be obvious to everyone that we would go out of the way for one another. I almost sighed in realization, because I was starting to understand why everyone had assumed we were dating for a fair amount of high school. To be fair, when I was around King every day, it was hard to think of our interactions as anything but our normal, but after some distance? Well, it was a bit more clear how much I’d fallen for him.
“Oh!” I tugged his hand. “I am so glad you are back today, there is someone moving in. Can you believe that? I’ve been trying to spy from my bedroom window, but I’m failing miserably.”
His deep laughter followed me as he guided me out onto the front porch. It was hard to look away from the man, but I did for a moment, searching the massive stretch of green that laid in front of me and the estate in question, as if our neighbors would just appear like magic. When I looked back up at King, he was staring at me with an expression that had me stilling, a flash of heat rolling over my skin at the intensity there.
That was a new look.
“What if I told you,” he said, smoothing a thumb over my jaw as I leaned with my back against the railing of the porch, his body caging mine, “that I knew who was moving in?”
“You would have to tell me, of course,” I teased. His eyes sparked with amusement as he wrapped an arm around my waist, turning me slightly into him but so that I could still see the house. I jumped as he lifted his fingers to his lips and did one of those insanely loud whistles. I watched with avid interest to see what was going to occur. I mean, I could stay here all day, perfectly content pressed between King and… well, anything. A railing. A wall. A bed. You probably get where I am going with this.