Perfection of Suffering (The Shadows of Wildberry Lane Book 1)

by M. Sinclair

  “This is Bishop Vos,” India said as I met the hand of a blonde-haired man that offered me a charming smile before looking back at India, seeming to communicate something.

  “Silas Huntington,” she said as she pointed out the next man, who offered me only a short head nod. I tried to not feel uncomfortable, because the man seemed normal enough… but he had a weird energy to him, and the way he was watching India was far from normal. Then again, I could feel my guys staring holes into the side of my face, so I didn’t blame them for feeling a bit off.

  “Oh, Eugene and Lawson.” I flashed a smile, not having recognized the two men at first. “It is wonderful to see both of you again.” They’d been with us in Europe, and it didn’t surprise me that they were still attached to India at the hip. They’d always been a bit infatuated with her, at least from what I could remember.

  “And Callum is somewhere around here.” She flashed a smile.

  “Well, you may remember Yates,” I pointed out as the man in question offered her a polite smile, his eyes moving back to me. “And this is Kingston Ross and the Gates twins, Sterling and Lincoln,” I explained as India nodded in understanding.

  Before I could say anything else, the microphone came alive as my father’s voice greeted the guests. I squeezed her hand and rounded the table as we both sat down, everyone’s attention moving to my dad as he began his welcome speech. I couldn’t help the little buzz going through me at having a positive interaction with a female that wasn’t one of the moms.

  Kingston’s arm wrapped around the back of my chair as he smoothed his fingers over my bare shoulder. I offered him a curious look as he kissed my temple, making me blush. Another man joined the table suddenly, a massive man that looked somewhat like a cowboy, boots and all. He sat down and offered India a look as she flashed a small smile. But that wasn’t what caught my attention—no, it was the fact that King was frozen next to me.

  “You okay?” I asked softly. My dad was still talking, but it drew the attention of the new man, who I was assuming was Callum. His gaze met mine before moving to Kingston’s, and a tense moment passed as the two of them stared at one another. It wasn’t a bad tension, per se, but it was very much something.

  Suddenly, it didn’t matter, because he just offered a head nod and looked forward again. King seemed to breathe out, his grip tightening on me as I examined his face. My chest squeezed as a small thread of insecurity ran through me.

  There was that feeling again. The one where I felt like they were hiding something from me. I eyed Callum.

  Maybe more than one thing.

  The feeling didn’t go away, even as we made it into the early afternoon and I drove home. I had said a quick goodbye to India, and Kingston, who had been talking quietly to Callum, had said he would come by to pick me up for tonight. I found myself lonely, though, as I drove home, realizing that all of them had chosen to stay… for whatever reason.

  And no, I wasn’t insecure enough to think this was anything with India. This was something else. It was weird, and it made me really uncomfortable not knowing what. I swallowed, shaking my head and turning on my phone as it began to ding in the console next to me. I tried to not assume the worst, but when the messages continued to stream in, I realized that I may not want to open my phone to begin with.

  I always felt better with my phone off, but it was ten times worse when I finally turned it on. My throat caught as I pulled into the driveway and then the garage, knowing that my parents would be quick to follow. I looked at the clock in the car, calculating that I had around two hours until the entire ensemble of ‘helpers’ arrived to aid in my mom and I getting ready for the gala tonight.

  The smart thing would be to take a nap.

  My fingers were shaky as I grabbed my phone and walked inside, not looking at the screen and considering just powering it back down. I was being a baby. It was probably fine. It was probably nothing. Sliding off my shoes, I sat on the edge of my bed and opened my phone.

  A small noise broke from my throat.

  It was several messages, but the thing that stuck out most to me? A photo of Kingston talking to Callum, with India standing right there listening to what they were saying. A surge of insecurity hit my chest, as I found that even more upsetting than the insults. Although, those were bad. Really bad.

  Tossing my phone across my bed, I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a sharp breath. Fuck this. Anxiety poured through my system as I tried to shake it, but instead I found myself laying on my side and pulling headphones out of my drawer, hoping that would help.

  Maybe Kingston knew Callum from something over the summer.

  My eyes closed as dread settled in my stomach. No. No, I didn’t think it was that.

  Unfortunately.

  Chapter Nine

  Dahlia Aldridge

  I wasn’t positive at what point in my life I’d gotten used to events like this, or maybe ‘used to’ wasn’t the correct phrase. When had it become routine to go to galas? To wear thousands of dollars worth of clothing and jewelry? To have spent the past few hours having a team fuss over me while I got ready for an event? I suppose it had always been this way, but I still felt detached from it in an odd way, as if it wasn’t really me experiencing it.

  Looking around the grand ballroom, I smiled, taking in the moment of beauty and grace. The setting sun filled the space with golden light, and from where I stood, it felt like the world was just pausing and filling my mind with a stunning image that I could never hope to properly capture in a photograph.

  This was a moment you just had to experience.

  “Dahlia?” Lincoln’s voice sounded over my shoulder as I looked up at him, my chest warming. After listening to music and taking a nap, I felt better about earlier. Sure, I was still uncomfortable with feeling out of the loop, but I had settled on just asking King when I had some time. I felt like that was the first step to take, and if I still felt like there was an issue… well, I’d go from there.

  “Is this a new tux?” I asked curiously, running my fingers over the expensive material.

  He flashed a smile, taking off his glasses for a moment before readjusting them. “Yeah, both Sterling and I had to purchase new ones after training all summer.”

  My eyes moved to his arm muscles as I made a noncommittal sound that had him chuckling. What? As if I hadn’t noticed how muscular and cut they’d gotten over the summer. Any possible ‘baby face’ they had from high school was completely gone.

  “I like it.” I nodded. “Where is your brother?”

  “Dancing with our mom.” He pointed to them as I followed his line of sight. His fingers gently pressed to my back as the hot, rough, texture nearly had my body shuddering. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this dress. Don’t get me wrong, it was absolutely stunning, but it left far too much skin for him to touch.

  Because this was an international event, not only was it extremely formal, but there were dresses from all over the country, and enough media to capture it all. Normally, my mom was okay with us wearing whatever we wanted, but we had been specifically contacted by a designer for this event, and I couldn’t lie, the dress they’d chosen for me… was gorgeous. Actually, ‘gorgeous’ wasn’t the right word for it.

  Almost unreal. Ethereal?

  The nude bodice that was fitted against my torso and hips made it look like the sky blue tulle that twisted across it clung to my naked form. Embedded in the tulle from my cleavage down to where the skirt flared out below my hips were clusters of diamonds. Legit diamonds. The back was open, and in front of one thigh, the material split to show off a pair of delicate wrap-up stilettos. It was almost Greek goddess-inspired and only enhanced by the deep back that fell to right above my butt and the sleeves that flowed past my fingers, diamonds sparkling against the nearly transparent fabric. I was essentially covered in tulle and diamonds.

  Even my hair, the dark mass pulled back from my face and done in loose waves, was intertwined with diamond-like crystals tha
t glinted in the light. I wouldn’t have normally picked something so… attention catching, but I also was loving how I felt in it. For the first time in a while, I felt good about myself, and I didn’t want that to end anytime soon.

  “You look absolutely gorgeous,” Lincoln murmured, as if reading my mind.

  Looking up into his azure eyes, I saw honesty there, and my cheeks flushed. “I couldn’t say no to something with this many sparkles in it.”

  He chuckled and intertwined our fingers, leading me towards the dance floor. I didn’t think twice about him wrapping his arms around me. All of my boys could dance. After all, we’d literally had private lessons up until our junior year of high school, and it showed as Lincoln easily twirled me around the dance floor, allowing me to forget about all the eyes on us for just a few minutes. It was something that I needed, considering the attention that was being paid to us would normally make me more uncomfortable than they probably realized.

  Although, I didn’t mind that I could feel my boys’ eyes on us. Including Dermot, who I was officially adopting into my mental friend radius. The man had told me I looked stunning in his cute accent! I couldn’t not officially like him after that.

  “King is coming over here,” Lincoln grumbled after almost a half an hour of dancing and talking, my body pressed against his.

  I let out a small laugh. “That’s far longer than I pinned him for lasting.”

  “What about me lasting?” Kingston’s voice was edged with a darker humor, and my cheeks heated, realizing what he was alluding to.

  Lincoln shook his head and turned me into Kingston’s arms, leaving me to explain. I pressed my lips together. “Just said I figured you wouldn’t last that long without coming... over here.”

  I totally knew what I was saying.

  Kingston’s eyes jumped with amusement, and a rumble broke from his throat. “Don’t you worry, princess, I last plenty long enough.”

  “Mmmm,” I hummed, tilting my head as he turned me slightly and I locked my arms around him. “Undetermined.”

  What the heck was I doing? Also, I was going to ignore the odd surge of jealousy at the concept of him lasting long for anyone that wasn’t me. The mere idea of him kissing another woman had me seething.

  Attractive. Very attractive, Dahlia.

  King offered me a heated look. “Yeah, princess? You sure you want to play this game?”

  “What game?” My breath caught as he dipped his head slightly, his eyes darkening as his voice smoothed over my ears.

  “The one where you push me,” he explained softly.

  “Can’t handle a bit of teasing?” I asked, wondering if the sexual tension between us was just a figment of my imagination. As his hand wrapped tighter on my waist and he pulled me closer against him, I realized that it was very much not imagined. My eyes flared before growing heavy, heat flashing over my skin.

  “From you, Dahlia?” he chuckled softly. “You have no idea how razor thin that line of control is, princess.”

  My pulse increased as I wondered just what I could do to push that line of control. My eyes moved to his lips, but before I could say anything, a voice cleared, causing both of us to pause and look at Dermot. The man cleaned up stunningly in a tux, and the look he offered Kingston was both amused and concerned.

  “You have international press here,” Dermot reminded him, something like worry filtering through his gaze.

  King nodded, pressing a kiss to my forehead as Dermot offered a hand to me. I watched my best friend walk away, then looked up at his cousin, who was staring at me with interest. Dang it. That had totally been the edge of something.

  “What about the international press?” I asked, insecurity bubbling up. “Does he not want pictures of us dancing to circulate?”

  Dermot’s eyes widened. “Not how you think, trust me.”

  I arched a brow as he walked with me towards our table and I sat down, my feet hurting slightly as he offered me a new glass of champagne. I sipped it easily and asked my question. “How do you think I mean?”

  “That it is about you,” he murmured, leaning forward, his arms on his knees.

  “Well, is it not?”

  “The Ross family deals in international circles a lot,” he hedged and then examined my face. “Ones that would love to know who is important to Kingston’s father and Kingston himself.”

  Oh.

  “We were just dancing,” I waved off.

  Dermot hummed and took a sip of his drink. “Is that what you really think?”

  I was caught off guard by his question. “What else would I think?”

  He examined my face with interest, but before he could respond, a shadow came over us and had my jaw gritting in frustration. I swear, if one more person interrupted us, I was going to be the one losing it...

  “Dermot Ross, good to see you again,” Ian chuckled, a hand coming down on Dermot’s shoulder. I watched something really dark flash in the man’s gaze before he tightened his hold on his glass and looked up at Ian, shrugging off his touch.

  “You should watch yourself, Ian,” Dermot leveled. “I don’t give a fuck about this game. I’ll just beat the shit out of you.”

  That was hot.

  I mean, no… that was violent. Bad Dahlia.

  Ian put up his hands. “Mate, I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to say hi.”

  “Ian, you should go,” I pointed out, seeing his brother staring at him from a distance. He looked a bit more cautious, and that was smart—I could feel the tension in Dermot’s frame, and I wasn’t even touching him.

  Ian looked down at me, his eyes running over me. “Why don’t you come with me?”

  Dermot stood up, his accent thicker in his anger. “One more fuckin’ thing. Try it, Ian, and I’ll kick your sorry arse out of here.”

  “There are news crews everywhere,” he hissed, although he looked amused.

  Dermot stepped up into his space, looking down at him. “I don’t give a fuck who sees.”

  My skin broke out into shivers as I reached out and touched Dermot’s wrist gently. “He’s not worth it, D.”

  The nickname had him looking back down at me in surprise, and I saw him consider something before he looked back at Ian. “You have one chance to walk away. Don’t waste it.”

  Ian seemed to weigh his odds before putting up his hands and stepping back. Once he was gone, Dermot sat down and shook his head, downing his beer.

  “D?” he asked suddenly, looking amused.

  “Friends use nicknames,” I pointed out.

  His lips tilted up as his eyes flashed. “That means I need one for you.”

  I couldn’t help but smile in excitement, because I couldn’t lie—I absolutely loved nicknames. My eyes moved across the room as I realized that India was on the dance floor with Silas, I believe, her completely black gown standing out in comparison to the brighter shades. I felt a twinge of insecurity thinking about earlier, but I tried to brush it off.

  “What’s wrong?” Dermot asked softly.

  “Wrong?” I arched my brows. “Nothing.”

  “Dahlia,” he smiled, shaking his head. “Hate to tell you this, but your emotions are written all over your face.” Crap.

  I frowned and blurted out, “I feel like Kingston and the others are hiding something from me.”

  I watched Dermot’s expression for hints of deception, but instead he looked thoughtful as his fingers tapped on the table. “Why do you think that?”

  “Just a feeling?” I shrugged.

  He nodded. “I can assure you, Dahlia, that if they were, it would be because they were trying to protect you, not exclude you.”

  “Are you a mind-reader?” I narrowed my eyes, trying to tease.

  “Your thoughts are all right here,” he pointed out as he tapped my nose, making me smile.

  Standing up, I squeezed his shoulder. “I’m going to go use the washroom real quick.”

  He nodded as I crossed the room and slipped into the hal
lway. I let out a shaky breath, not positive how to feel about Dermot Ross. I mean… I knew how I felt, I just wasn’t positive how I felt about feeling that way.

  Swallowing nervously, I made my way into the luxurious club bathroom, breathing out as I noticed that no one was in here. I looked at the door, considering locking it, but instead moved to stand in front of the mirror.

  I felt good about myself tonight despite the messages earlier, but I knew that was because my boys and others had said I looked good. I thrived on others’ opinions to counteract my insecurity and the constant put-downs I received. I hated that. I hated that I could no longer feel good without any of that. Putting my hands on the sink, I lifted my foot slightly, the pads of my toes hurting from these damn shoes.

  I loved heels, but holy hell, each year they seemed to hurt my feet more. I loved sandals and flats way more. I envied women that seemed to live in heels. I think I would lose my mind if I ever did that. Washing my hands just to feel the warm water against my skin and inhale the smell of the mint soap, I relaxed. It was a weird gesture, I knew, but also calming. Sometimes small things did wonders to anchor you. Drying my hands, I opened the bathroom door and stepped back into the hallway.

  I should have realized what a bad idea it was coming out here alone.

  “Dahlia.” Ian’s voice rang in my ear as I froze, stepping away from him, only to let out a small yelp when his hand came down on my shoulder. He spun me and pressed me against the wall right outside the bathroom. My breath came out in a harsh, panicked rush as the scent of his cologne invaded my nostrils.

  “Let me go.” I found my voice and remembered what King had said. Unfortunately, the hallway that was normally filled with light had darkened into shadows following the sunset, so I felt more alone than ever.

  He chuckled softly. “Now that’s not very nice. I thought you were supposed to be one of the little hostesses of this event—where are your manners?”