Theirs to Keep - A Reverse Harem Romance

by Krista Wolf

  “I was a police officer there too,” I added. “Two years on the force. My parents are still there. They’re divorced now, and live in different parts of the city, but…”

  I shrugged, thinking back to their split. It had happened afterward. It might’ve had nothing to do with what happened, but it could also have everything to do with it,

  “I had a brother too,” I said, trying my best to keep my throat from closing. “A younger one. His name was Reese.”

  “Reese.”

  “Yes.”

  Camden nodded. “Cool name.”

  “He was a cool brother,” I allowed. “Growing up less than a year apart, we were pretty inseparable. We went to school together, shared the same friends. He dated some of my girlfriends, actually. It was all I could do to keep him out of my personal life.”

  “Little brothers can be like that I guess,” said Camden.

  “So you have them too?”

  He shook his head, and his stubble made a scratching noise on the pillow. “No. No siblings at all.” He cleared his throat and looked down. “Just me.”

  My heart fluttered, probably in sympathy for him. I knew what it was like to be alone. But I also knew what it was like to have someone, and that made things even worse.

  “As I was saying it was great to have a little brother,” I continued on. “And Reese was cool. Very cool, actually.” My chest grew heavy. “Up until the moment he wasn’t.”

  The silence between us was almost deafening. After an extraordinarily long pause, Camden reached out gently and took my hand.

  “So what happened?”

  “Oh you know the story,” I joked, as if it could help. “Kid grows up. Kid falls in with the wrong crowd. Kid gets addicted to pills first and then heroin, because heroin’s so much fucking cheaper, only—”

  “Karissa I’m sorry.”

  I nodded perfunctorily. “Yeah. Everyone is.”

  More silence, more pain. I pushed it down. I had to continue.

  “Anyway, we did everything we could for him. Tough love. Soft love. Rehab, four different times, inpatient and outpatient. But those fucking friends, man. They did him in. And then he started taking on too much product from a dealer named Spence, because it makes perfect logical sense to extend product to an addict, mind you.”

  I shook my head, examining my feelings. The anger and rage hadn’t subsided at all. If anything, they were worse.

  “He did the drugs he was supposed to sell,” Camden guessed. “Didn’t he?”

  “No,” I grumbled. “Even worse.”

  Across from me, my lover’s brow furrowed. I went on before I chickened out.

  “So yeah, I went to Reese’s apartment one day and found him totally passed out. I got angry. I went through his stuff and trashed everything. I flushed every last bit of it — apparently even the stuff that wasn’t his.”

  “And let me guess. Spence went nuts?”

  “To put it mildly, yes,” I answered. “This rat fuck shows up the next day, and his guys beat my little brother to within an inch of his life. Blunt force trauma. Lots of it. Reese ended up in a three-day coma, bleeding from both ears. I stayed beside his bed the whole time, and so did my parents.”

  “And… he died?” Camden asked hesitantly.

  “No,” I laughed bitterly. “The tough little bastard lived through that. But he woke up angry. Not at the guys who’d been ordered to beat him up, or even at Spence himself. Oh no. The asshole was mad at me. All pissed off I’d flushed the drugs. Totally enraged I’d ‘wasted’ them and gotten him in all sorts of trouble.”

  Camden did the only thing he could do: he shook his head. “Wow.”

  “Oh, but it gets better. Because hey, guess what? All of a sudden my parents are pissed at me too. They one-hundred percent blamed me for what happened to Reese. Said it was all my fault, and I should mind my own business. Stay out of things that don’t have anything to do with me.”

  “But you didn’t. Did you?”

  “Fuck no.”

  Camden swore under his breath. “Like I even had to ask.”

  “You should know me by now,” I shrugged. “Tell me what happened next?”

  He stared back at me, pausing for only a second. “You went after him. Spence.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “And you beat him to within an inch of his life.”

  I sighed wistfully. “I wish. More like I happened across him, then ran into him on the highway. I mean literally ran into him, as in rammed his fancy little sports car over and over again with my cruiser.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “The Concord police didn’t like that very much, did they?”

  “No they did not,” I laughed, still trying to hold it together. The laugh was needed. A tiny bit of merriment in a horrific story.

  “So did your brother eventually recover?”

  “Yes,” I said sadly. “And he went right back to drugs. And I took off south, after just narrowly escaping vehicular manslaughter charges. They were never so eager to get someone out of town, believe me.”

  “Who?”

  “Everyone,” I shrugged. “My brother, my parents, that scumbag drug dealer. But especially the CPD, who nearly got sued into oblivion by my ‘reckless actions.’ I left with nothing. No family, no job. No direction. No friends…”

  The pain reached the point where it was too much to continue. Camden knew it right away.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he said softly. His embrace tightened, his arms and legs sliding that much further around me. “But now you’ve got us.”

  I sniffled, trying to keep myself from crying. But the tears were hellbent on coming anyway.

  “Maybe one day your brother will get clean,” he said. “He’ll forgive you — maybe even admire you for trying to—”

  “No he won’t. He’s dead.”

  Camden’s head lolled slowly forward, until it rested against mine. I felt his body go limp with disappointment.

  “He overdosed a few months after I left,” I said. “I didn’t find out until after the funeral. I would’ve gone back. I would’ve… I would’ve tried to—”

  I broke down mid-sentence, sobbing into his chest. Camden pulled me in and held me there. He let me go on crying, not saying anything. Not moving a single muscle except to hold and envelop me, and make me feel safe.

  Reese…

  No matter how many times I went over the story, it always ended the same. I’d failed my brother. I’d failed my parents. And instead of staying to help, I’d allowed myself to be driven off.

  I cried and cried, until my eyes were empty. After a long time of extended silence, I finally regained control.

  “Okay,” I said, still curled into Camden’s loving embrace. Gradually, I tilted my chin and looked up at him.

  “Now you.”

  Forty-One

  CAMDEN

  We lay wrapped naked together beneath the blankets. Stretched out in the quiet world of the parlor-turned-living room, speaking truths and unveiling secrets in the ancient silence. There was no one to interrupt. No flurry of life’s activities to get in the way. It was just the two of us and no one else, speaking softly of our feelings, our emotions, our stories.

  I held her in my arms and I told her everything.

  In the unbroken silence Karissa learned my story — every bit of it — in full, unabridged detail. She learned of my life and youth, and the bond I formed with Bryce and Roderick in lieu of an actual family. I told her of my time away, on the other side of the world. Of the things I did and saw there, and of how they ultimately drove me home.

  I told this woman my every thought and dream, even things I hadn’t told anyone before. Not the guys. Not Madison. Not even myself.

  And God it felt so fucking good.

  “So then you do know,” Karissa said softly, cuddled so close our noses were touching. “You know what it is to lose a brother.”

  “Brothers,” I co
rrected her. “And yes. I only served two tours, one near Kabul and one just outside of Kandahar. I lost friends in both. People closest to me, who disappeared on patrol. Men I woke and slept beside every single day, who came back scarred or broken or worse.”

  “And you saw combat?”

  She asked the question hesitantly, as if weighing whether it could be taboo. I nodded slowly.

  “I saw more than my share of fighting. Ambushes. Missions in which I was set against men whose faces I never saw, and who never saw me coming.” I blinked as she slowly stroked my cheek. “Fortunately for them too.”

  She shook her head, trying to understand. “Why would you call that fortunate?”

  “Because the fear, the anticipation — that’s the worst part. Not knowing is always better.”

  I shifted and felt her bare leg slide over mine. It was warm and comforting. They were feelings I’d missed.

  “You did what you had to do,” she told me. “You were brave, Camden. Heroic.”

  “I hurt people, Karissa,” I told her. “At first I thought that part would be easy, because the recipients deserved it. And most times they did.” I lowered my chin to my chest. “But nothing’s ever that black and white,” I whispered quietly. “And I learned it’s the grey areas that can keep you up at night.”

  In the span of silence that followed I could feel her heart breaking for mine. It’s not what I wanted. Not at all.

  “Listen,” I said. “I saw good things there too. Change. Vast improvement in the way people lived their lives. In lots of ways we helped people, and there was a purity in that I’ll never forget.” I turned to look at her again, and her eyes glimmered in the darkness. “But the more I lost people, the more I missed what I had here. When my mother got sick and it coincided with my end of tour, I took the opportunity to come home.”

  Karissa frowned sadly. “And you lost her too.”

  “Yes,” I answered. “It was quick, and for that I was grateful. But it made me realize I didn’t want to go back. I was tired of losing, tired of loss. I’d tasted too much of how fragile life’s connections can be, and I wanted nothing more than to be back here with my real family.”

  “Bryce and Roderick,” she murmured.

  “Yes.”

  I could see she was getting it: the reason we did everything as a trio. How easily the three of us could be in business together, or fall for the same woman. There was a sense of connection, of kinship forged through so many years of experiences that no other feeling came close. It wasn’t something you could force out of any other relationship. It was something that money could never buy.

  “The guys were gracious, cutting me into the business they’d already started building while I was gone. We became equal partners. We built everything together, including this.” I pointed upward, swirling a finger at the parlor’s beautifully vaulted ceiling. “We’ve come so far with this place. And a huge chunk of that has to do with you.”

  Karissa snuggled into me, kissing my chest lightly. Her lips were warm against my skin. The touch, sweet.

  “You know none of what happened with Reese is your fault, right?” I asked abruptly.

  I felt her freeze for a second, then relax. Clasping my hands, I pulled my arms even tighter around her.

  “I learned that straight off,” I went on. “The friends I lost, the heroes I saw buried… they were taken through the actions of others. Just as — and I know you might not want to hear this — your brother was taken through actions that were all his own.”

  It was a risk. Something that could’ve been considered a barb, thrown at the end of a deep conversation. Ultimately though, Karissa heaved a big, shuddering sigh.

  “I know.”

  I tilted my chin and kissed her on the forehead. “You did everything you could to save him. But he had to save himself.”

  She nodded into me, her golden hair still a sex-ruined tangle. When she spoke again, she pulled back enough to look at me.

  “Survivor’s guilt sucks.”

  “It sure does,” I agreed.

  “Roderick has a bad case of it I think,” she said. “That’s why he’s always somber, always sardonic. He carries the guilt of having survived the car accident, when your poor wife didn’t.”

  My brows knit together. I was wholly confused.

  “Wait, what?”

  “The accident,” she said hesitantly. “Roderick told me it all was his fault.”

  I shook my head. “Well it wasn’t.”

  “Well he thinks it was anyway,” said Karissa. “Anyone who survived something that horrific—”

  “Of course he survived,” I interrupted. “He wasn’t even there.”

  Now it was her turn to be surprised. She looked back at me in the silence and blinked.

  “Madison was driving the car by herself,” I told her. “When the accident happened, she was all alone.”

  Forty-Two

  KARISSA

  It was a crazy few weeks. Not just because of work, although that was definitely a part of it. There were plumbers, electricians, HVAC companies. I had three different crews working the marble and stone restoration in the garden, and another four painting and staining outfits doing finish work, inside and out. There was barely time to check the cameras each morning, although they didn’t register much. Grazing deer set off the motion sensors at least two hundred times, and I quickly learned a raccoon family had moved in under the foundation for the old carriage house.

  But no, it wasn’t work that made things especially nuts. It was a crazy few weeks because I had three simultaneous boyfriends.

  And simultaneous often meant simultaneous.

  There were nights where I spent one-on-one time with the guys, and that was always relaxing. I took this past Tuesday night with Roderick, curled up in his bed. Wednesday evening with Bryce, working ourselves ragged in the gym so we could treat ourselves to guilt-free Italian food in Old Beach. Thursday I planned on staying in and crashing early, until Roderick and Camden showed up with a soft knock and a bottle of wine. I’d just slipped on my favorite silk nightgown when I let them in. It was off my body just as quickly, and spent the night in a crumpled heap on the floor, beside my bed.

  It was fun though, being their employee by day and their girlfriend by night. Going from being respectful and professional as I went over our daily progress reports, to being their dirty little plaything later on… or even turning the tables and making them mine.

  By the second weekend I was tired, exhausted and sore. So were the guys though, and that made me proud. It was a little strange celebrating the fact I could outlast them most nights, but that’s exactly what happened. Our sex sessions were marathons, not sprints. Although some nights they certainly felt like both.

  More than anything though, I cherished the fun of being with them. Of eating and drinking and laughing alongside them, of working hard and playing harder. I felt like part of their team, all of a sudden. Not just because I lived and worked with them, but because I was a part of their inner circle. I wasn’t merely a girlfriend, I was a shared girlfriend.

  And that part was so much cooler than I realized it could ever be.

  Saturday was the first morning I woke up alone. I went for a run while the guys slept in — an occurrence about as rare as a full solar eclipse — and was enjoying the cooler morning air when a bright yellow Jeep passed me in the opposite direction. I would’ve thought nothing of it, except I heard the breaks engage and the tires squeal.

  Then it flipped a U-turn and followed me.

  Shit.

  I moved further over on the shoulder, walking backwards, keeping my eye on the vehicle the whole time. It would be easy to dive away, into the thickets on the side of the highway. If I needed to, that is.

  But the Jeep just rolled up on me, slowly and safely.

  What the—

  “Hey!”

  It was even with me now, and with the windows down I could see the occupants. They were three young girls, two
blondes and a brunette. Early to mid 20’s. Pretty as hell, and dressed for the beach.

  “You’re Karissa, right?”

  The passenger pulled her hair back over one freckled ear and regarded me with piercing eyes.

  I stopped and placed my hands on my hips. “Yes. Why?”

  “Hop in.”

  They looked sweet and innocent, but also a little mischievous. And that was probably because they were grinning. Smiling in a way that wasn’t exactly happiness, but more of an inside joke that I wasn’t a part of.

  “No thanks,” I huffed, still catching my breath. “I was just—”

  The girl in the back leaned forward, and I saw her face. It was Bryce’s face. Almost to a T.

  “Wait, you’re Bryce’s sister,” I said. “Aren’t you?”

  They three of them laughed. Together they said the same thing: “Yup.”

  My eyes widened. “Wait, all of you?”

  “She doesn’t even know he has three sisters?” the driver rolled her eyes. “Yikes. That’s not a good start.”

  Her hair was darker than the others, but the features were unmistakably the same. It was easy to see now, that they were all sisters. Each of them shared similar facial characteristics, and mannerisms as well.

  “Well I knew he had sisters,” I said, a bit defensively. “I just didn’t realize they traveled in packs.”

  The blonde in the back laughed. The others eyed me over.

  “Was there a memo I missed?” I chided. “Because if you think I somehow—”

  “You’re dating our brother,” the girl in the passenger seat said matter-of-factly. The others nodded beside her. “We’re here to determine whether we’re okay with that.”

  “Okay with that?” I laughed. “Is that how it works?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s pretty standard actually,” said the girl in the back seat.

  “You’re not the first,” the driver said. She shrugged. “You might not be the last, either.”

  I ignored the statement. “And how do you know I’m dating your brother?”