by M. Sinclair
“I’m surprised you have any excess energy,” he interrupted, offering a smirk. “Sounds like your needs aren’t being met.”
Oh, ew.
I crossed my arms. “No. It really has nothing to do with that, Max.”
“So you are satisfied with everything in your life?” he mused, his eyes darkening with something I didn’t want to examine.
“Absolutely,” I hissed, wondering if his sister had sent him here.
His eyes sparkled with malice. “And how do you handle knowing that the men you love are hiding shit from you?”
What?
I swallowed and tilted my head. “I really have no idea what you are talking about, Max, and I don’t have time for this.”
“Don’t have time to hear about how they are sneaking behind your back and dealing with shady people? Or are you already aware of the bullshit they’re involved in? Bullshit that you are no doubt going to suffer because of,” he pointed out.
My jaw clenched. “Are we going to stand around chatting all day or can I get past you?”
His hands went up in an innocent gesture as I slid past him, scowling at the way he moved forward so that his body rubbed against mine. Shaking my head, I walked towards the locker room, needing to get the hell out of here. My gaze snapped towards the entrance of the tennis court complex, where an older gentleman, around my father’s age, walked in.
“Morning, Dahlia,” he offered formally, his gaze narrowing on his son behind me, who was still lingering in the gate of the court I’d been using.
“Mr. Brooks.” I offered a polite smile and hurried away from the courts, left with that familiar uncomfortable feeling that his son gave me. Not so much of the creepy element, but just that almost predatorial energy they had. I hated that so goddamn much. Much different than the feeling I had around my boys.
Max’s darkness didn’t intrigue me in the least.
After grabbing my bag from the locker room, I went out to the parking lot, feeling oddly exhausted. Maybe I would be able to get back to sleep when I finally got home. I ran a hand through my sweaty hair as I slid into my car and immediately started it up. Maybe I needed to stay the hell away from this damn club. It seemed every time I was here lately, something bad happened.
I couldn’t tell you how often I’d been tempted to ask my father to ban the Brooks family from the club, but I had no justification, and they were paying good money. That just felt selfish.
As I pulled into Wildberry Lane, I heard my phone begin to buzz, and I grabbed it, wondering if it would be one of the boys. I felt my face pale, realizing that it was very much not the boys. It was an unknown number.
I knew this game.
Without looking, I turned off my phone and let out a small breath of relief, telling myself I would deal with it later. Maybe.
Parking in the driveway, not having the energy to bother with my dad’s garage security, I began to make my way through the house and dropped my bag in the living room. I filled up my water and slowly dragged myself upstairs, feeling dizzy from dehydration and overworking myself. Suddenly, I could feel every missed meal in the past week, and I could see black spots dotting my vision.
This… this was expected.
I’d been on such a high, and I could feel the weight of my anxiety, depression, and overall mess of emotions darkening my day. I sat on the floor of my bedroom, not bothering to lock the door as I tugged off my tennis shoes and laid out on my back looking up at the ceiling.
I needed to shower.
I needed to move to bed.
I even needed to check my phone.
Instead, I gave into the exhaustion and just let it crawl over me. I would deal with everything when I woke up. That was what I kept telling myself.
I just should have realized the shit show that would be awaiting me.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kingston Ross
Something was wrong.
I didn’t know what, but everything was telling me, from the moment I opened my eyes just seconds ago, that something was wrong. I snapped up in bed and looked around as I tried to figure out why the hell I felt so off.
Grabbing my phone from the nightstand next to me, I frowned, realizing it was far later than I anticipated. I don’t think I’d ever in my goddamn life slept in, so the feeling of something being ‘off’ was only enhanced by the fact that it was early afternoon.
A picture of Dahlia stared back at me from my phone screen as I let out a groan of frustration, my cock twitching at the mere sight of her smile. Would I ever not wake up painfully and uncomfortably hard? Somehow I didn’t think so. At least if Dahlia was here, I could satisfy the constant need to be inside of her.
My thoughts jumped to the dream I’d been pulled out of by this weird feeling, wishing it was far more my reality than this pestering concern that was overtaking my thoughts. I could now imagine exactly what Dahlia would look like pinned to my bed as I fucked her hard enough that all she could do was moan out my name while coming. Before, the notion had just been a fantasy, but after having her underneath me and her lips pressed against mine? Now I knew exactly how amazing it would feel, and the thought alone had me wanting to fucking come. I couldn’t even be embarrassed by that. Although, I would much rather come inside of her, filling her so much that it leaked from between her thighs all day while she sat around in one of her pretty sundresses.
A groan broke from my throat as I closed my eyes and briefly considered just staying in bed. Maybe she would be concerned and come find me. Then I could trap her here. Forever. Well, at least until our parents returned from their trip.
What was it, two weeks?
I felt like that was long enough to make her addicted to what I could do to her body. I would just keep making her come until she passed out, and then do it again.
When my phone lit up again, I realized I had an unread message from Dahlia to our group, making me frown in concern. Reading her text, I let out a groan, frustrated that she’d left Wildberry Lane without one of us. I used to think she was safe at the club, so my worry normally would have been eased by that… but not anymore.
A dark, seething rage rolled over me as I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through it so I didn’t start to think again about what had happened this weekend. Dahlia wasn’t fucking safe anywhere. Not without one of us. Not without someone that would kill to protect her. It was sad that we lived and ruled over a town that was filled with such disgusting people.
Pliable people that had no morals and would do anything you asked of them for the right amount of money. Good thing we had that in spades.
My feelings towards Dahlia had been slowly growing into something dangerous since the start of high school. I didn’t give a fuck, but she probably should. I ran a hand over my chest, thinking about how my fairly innocent notions of her had turned dark really fast once I realized that there was a possibility that people outside of my brothers and I would want her. I was still as insanely in love with her, but the things I would do to keep her ‘ours’ were fucked. Now, there was this dark and desperate clawing at the center of my chest to possess her. To claim her.
Leaving this past summer had been damn near impossible, and I had almost cancelled my plans. Hell, I had equally considered kidnapping her on my jet and forcing her to come with me. Jason Aldridge wasn’t someone I particularly wanted to piss off, but I also think that everyone had a very keen understanding of how this was going to work out. Whether they were okay with it or not wasn’t a factor.
In the end, her safety and how dangerous it was overseas had won out. I wanted Dahlia to be involved in everything I did, if she wanted that, but right now was a delicate transition, and I hadn’t been lying about plausible deniability. As much as I wanted to make Dahlia my queen and sit her on the throne next to me, I knew that would come with dangers that even I wasn’t fully prepared for. Yet.
The Ross family was involved in dangerous shit, and this summer I had taken the steps necessary to establish
myself and how different I planned on running things from my own father. Not that my father was soft in any measure when it came to how he handled shit, but I was an extreme, even for him. It had taken a few… interactions, to say the least, but now no one in the family business had a misunderstanding of who would be in charge when my father decided to officially hand over the reins.
It had been an exhausting and long summer, and when I’d finally gotten home, I had almost immediately made my way to Dahlia’s house. The instincts I’d had to bury during the summer had all come roaring to the surface the minute I had seen her floating down the stairs. Every part of the darkness that had grown the previous three months had receded enough for me to become the man I knew Dahlia wanted in her life.
The one that wouldn’t scare the living hell out of her.
At least that was what I assumed. Although, the more time passed, the more I was realizing that Dahlia’s acceptance of us went far beyond my expectations. Which was good, because I hated the idea of hiding anything from her, and right now I felt like there were too many secrets between us.
Our interactions with the FBI. The plans I had for our family in the future. The reason I had suggested Dermot come back with us to Wildberry Lane to begin with. And no, it wasn’t just because him living in the new house made an easy excuse for why I need her opinion on how to redo the entire place.
Although that was one more secret.
No, I needed Dermot here. Not only because I knew he had my back no matter what, but because without something to ground him, he would end up becoming worse than me. Which was saying something. Just because my uncle was a piece of shit didn’t mean Dermot didn’t need to have family, and while mine would do just fine, I had assumed, correctly, that he would understand the draw to Dahlia the moment he met her.
This entire summer I had caught him unintentionally listening to our conversations or asking questions about her, and the more information I told him, the more invested he had seemed. Which was why it had been so goddamn hilarious when he finally met her. I shook my head, thinking about the way her pulse had picked up in surprise and a flush hit her face upon introduction.
I’d expected Dahlia to be friendly, but I hadn’t expected their instant connection. It had thrilled me and further solidified that we needed to push forward with our plan. We were done with high school, and we couldn’t avoid real life anymore, so while it was somewhat intimidating to finally move forward, I think we all knew it was time.
Although, there were some things that concerned me after everything that had happened this weekend. For one, there was the fact that I knew Dahlia was still hiding shit from us, and while I hated to admit Yates was right, we probably needed to push her just a little bit. I ran a hand over my face and considered going to pick her up from the club just to make sure she was okay, maybe try to talk to her after everything that had happened with Stratton last night.
We had known something was wrong with him, but I also had always known he would come back, and after the bullshit with Ian on Friday night, I knew he wouldn’t last long staying away from her. I just hadn’t expected him to say such stupid shit and send her into a bit of a downward spiral on Sunday. I knew what he had been attempting to protect her from, but that was why we existed. The group of us could handle anything like that.
I shook my head, thinking about how my princess had forced him to accept what I had already known—that she loved him and that he very much loved her. Had I liked that she had gone to that fight by herself? Absolutely goddamn not. I was still trying to figure out a proper punishment for that bullshit.
Although, I would probably just end up kissing the hell out of her and tasting every single inch of her body before burying myself inside of her to remind her who she belonged to. Who she needed to listen to. Whether she actually would or not was up for debate. In some ways, her not listening to me only turned me on more, because everyone usually fucking listened to me. The only people who seemed to exist outside of that sphere were my brothers and Dahlia.
Dahlia did whatever she wanted, and while I could get frustrated, I would continue to fight for a world where she had that ability. I never wanted her to feel restrained in any fashion. I just needed her to fucking trust me.
At least I had finally cleared the air about what was going on between all of us… something that hadn’t surprised her nearly as much as I had expected. I had a feeling Dahlia knew far more about what had been happening than she let on. It made me feel like we were doing something right, even if there had been some doubt recently.
None of that changed the fact that her safety, or lack thereof, made me extremely uncomfortable. Maybe hiring a security team would be a good idea. My eyes darted down to my phone, annoyed that we hadn’t heard back about Ian. I knew the hit was out, but I needed confirmation he was gone. What I had done and how I had left Greg hadn’t satisfied the bloodlust running through me. I needed that bastard dead, and until that happened, I would feel on edge. I didn’t know what we needed to do to make it more clear to everyone that she belonged to us.
I would figure it out, though, and make it happen.
Maybe a ring? A massive public wedding? We were bound to make news, considering the situation. Hell, maybe starting a family. A rumble broke in my throat as I tried to not dwell too much on that concept. I was going to lose my head over this woman.
When my phone rang, I picked it up, knowing it was Yates. “Morning.”
“They sent over more files.”
“What? Now?” I ran a hand through my hair before standing up and looking out my bedroom window, surprised to see Dahlia’s car in the driveway. I was glad she was back, and I was wondering if I could sneak into her room again. Finding her moaning in her shower with her fingers between her long legs had nearly undone me.
“Come over, they have the list of possible suspects.” He let out a sigh of exhaustion. “Some of this shit may surprise you.”
Wonderful. I loved surprises.
“Give me five.”
Unfortunately, I would have to wait on surprising Dahlia.
Hanging up, I went to my attached bathroom suite and took a quick shower, wondering if I could convince Dahlia to sleep over some time this week. I wanted to see her in my space, in my shower, and wearing my clothes. I wanted to breathe in her sweet scent and wake up with her in bed next to me, even if it was fully clothed.
There were two warring parts of me. One side turned into a goddamn softie romantic around Dahlia, just wanting to hold her and absorb the warmth and light she sheltered all of us in. The other part was a lot darker. The other part demanded that we fuck her hard enough that even when I wasn’t inside her, she’d feel me. That I made it so she was constantly thinking about me.
I wanted to mark every inch of her so everyone saw and understood she was ours.
My cock hardened as I let out a low groan, feeling frustrated as I turned the water freezing cold. It didn’t help at all, and I found myself in an even worse mood than before as I got ready for the day, wondering why this unsettling feeling wouldn’t go away.
I just knew something was wrong.
Making my way out of the house, the humidity hit me as I jogged towards Yates’s house, knowing the door would already be unlocked. I walked into the large estate and called out to him, hearing his voice echo from the dining room. My brows rose as I entered and realized that he had yet to sleep, his clothing the same as last night and his face exhausted and drawn.
I still hadn’t had time to give him shit about his plan with Dahlia at the law firm not working, but I could tell now wasn’t the time. I sat down as he slid me a folder, his eyes focused on his laptop as he updated me on everything.
“They sent those over. The first two I don’t know well, but one is from that Denim Moths group, and the other is that motherfucker married to that one therapist Dahlia had tried seeing.”
“The pharmacist?” I arched a brow, looking through the first two.
“Makes se
nse, I suppose.”
“So what’s the problem?” I flipped to the last page and froze, suddenly understanding. Motherfucker.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” I said honestly.
“I have always gotten a bad fucking feeling from them,” Yates agreed.
Fucking Robert Brooks.
He wasn’t lying. Max and his father had left me with a really bad gut feeling when it came to their intentions towards our family. Abby even more so, but I could tell she was almost hyper-focused on Dahlia. Enough so that it made me want to hire security just to keep track of the woman so that our girl was safe. Abby struck me as one of those fatal attraction chicks that would come after Dahlia because she was obsessed or some shit.
Closing the file, I let out an exhausted exhale. “I need this to be done. I don’t mind handling law enforcement, but this is too close to home. I can practically feel them wanting Dahlia to get involved.”
“Absolutely not,” Yates scowled.
“We need to tell her anyway,” I muttered, wondering what she’d think about this situation with the FBI.
I knew almost everything about Dahlia, but her reaction to something like this would no doubt surprise me. Just like when she found out I’d beat the shit out of Greg, and instead of being freaked out, she had just curled up against me and told me that it didn’t bother her at all.
I’d considered expressing how fucking in love I was with her right there and then, but I figured it was in poor taste, considering I was covered in blood and she was exahusted. It didn’t change the fact that when I finally carried her to her room, I’d told her just how obsessed I was over her. Then again, that wasn’t anything new—I had constantly admitted to my obsession. She was usually just sleeping or not paying attention.
Others heard, though, and it was enough to scare them away, which served my purposes more than I could have imagined. Honestly, I could have never expected a force like this to take over my life. Then again, I could have never expected for me to be so lucky to grow up next to a legitimate angelic being. When my father had explained that from the moment he’d met my mom, he’d known she was ‘the one,’ I had realized the feeling I had towards Dahlia was the same, if not more intense. It had always been like this in our family—when the Ross men fell, they fell hard. For me, it was just a bit obsessive and dark. Now mind you, I hadn’t expected Dermot to fall in love with her at first either, but after some serious thought, it didn’t surprise me in the least.
