Theirs to Keep - A Reverse Harem Romance

by Krista Wolf

  Then he was kicking and punching Bryce again.

  “Stop it!”

  I shoved my body between them, twisting to maintain my balance and expose my unprotected back. No blows came. Apparently the man wasn’t interested in me at all, his vengeance was directed solely on Bryce. Even now he was raising his arms again, preparing to rain down additional blows.

  “I said STOP!”

  In the middle of his next punch, the man disappeared. One second he was standing there, the next he was totally gone.

  What the—

  I looked sideways and there he was, rolling across the gravel-strewn cobbles. Camden had tackled him from one side, so fast that I’d missed it simply by blinking. He was in the process of kneeing the guy between the legs when Roderick’s hands locked themselves possessively over my upper arms.

  “Are you alright?” he cried, shaking me frantically. His eyes scanned me up and down.

  “Yes!” I shouted quickly. “But… Bryce!”

  He knelt to check on his friend, but only long enough to get Bryce’s slow nod. He was still holding his side, his face grimacing in pain. But he was getting up. He was still moving.

  “Unnngghhh!”

  The next cry came from the man in black, and it was a cry of frustration mixed with pain. Camden had hit him already, knocking the mask crooked across his face. His eyeholes were no longer lined up. His mouth, twisted into a snarl, was half covered by the thick wool fabric.

  “Hold him down,” Roderick growled, kneeling beside the man’s head. “Pin him tight!”

  Camden did exactly that, shifting his entire weight until he was screwing his knees into the man’s shoulders. It was over and he knew it. The man stopped struggling.

  “Now, who the fuck—”

  In the middle of taking the mask off, Roderick stopped talking. His face went white with surprise, as did Camden’s, and Bryce’s too.

  “What?” I said weakly.

  They were all frozen, staring down into the man’s face. He was young and nondescript. No one I recognized. Aside from being twisted in pain, his face was almost handsome.

  I was so angry I went to slap him.

  “No.”

  A hand caught mine, wrapping itself around my wrist. It was Camden’s.

  “Leave him.”

  I looked again, and the man on the ground no longer looked angry. And his pain wasn’t physical. It was emotional, for sure.

  “Ryan…”

  Camden stood up, and Roderick helped the intruder to his feet. His lip was quivering. He was crying openly. Practically bawling.

  Then they were hugging him tightly…

  And he was hugging them back.

  Fifty-Two

  KARISSA

  I was beyond shocked. Completely at a loss. This man had crept up on us and attacked us and kicked Bryce so hard I heard his ribs crack. He’d shown up at our gate in the dead of night. Set fire to our supplies, most likely.

  And now we were… hugging him?

  “Ryan… why?” Bryce was asking. His voice was broken. He was still clutching his side. “Why would you—”

  “Because of this,” the man sobbed, waving an arm. I looked back and realized he was pointing in the direction of the manor. “Because I hate this! I hate all it stands for!”

  “But it stands for her,” Roderick insisted calmly. “So much of it because she had a vision. Because she built it back.”

  “Yes,” the man sniffed, “but you went on without her. You did all this because of Madison. All of it! But now she’s gone...” His bloodshot eyes flitted over to me. “She’s gone, and you’re still moving on.”

  There was a silence as everyone let go of everyone else. We were standing in the relative darkness, halfway down the manor’s massive entranceway. The illumination provided by the driveway lights cast everyone with wicked-looking shadows.

  Finally Roderick turned my way. He saw the dismay and confusion in my eyes, and his expression softened.

  “Karissa this is Ryan,” he said softly. “He’s our…”

  “He’s our brother-in-law,” said Camden firmly.

  I stood there in total bewilderment. It was the last thing I expected.

  “Was,” Ryan corrected glumly.

  “No,” Bryce jumped in. “Is. And always will be.”

  He threw both arms around the man and hugged him again, and this time Ryan hugged him back. Bryce winced in pain, and the two men let go of each other just as quickly.

  “Sorry,” said Ryan. “I—”

  Bryce shook his head, halting the apology. “Dude, you can kick.”

  I was starting to get it. The expression on Ryan’s face had gone from hatred to resignation to something else entirely. I could see barriers breaking down. Memories flooding back into the man’s mind, replacing his fury with something more important, more nostalgic.

  “Why would you try to destroy this place?” asked Camden. “Your sister adored it! She’s the reason we’re here.”

  “You almost killed us!” Roderick added. He looked around. “All of us. Setting that fire was reckless and ridiculously stupid.”

  “I know I know,” Ryan said glumly. “But you were never in danger. I burned that pallet of stuff, not the manorhouse.” He looked miserable. “I was too chickenshit to burn that.”

  “Not to mention your sister would’ve killed you,”said Bryce.

  “I— I didn’t want to see the place go up anyway. Not really.” He swallowed thickly. “I was angry. I felt disrespected, dishonored. Left out. And then you…” Ryan looked at me, as if seeing me for the first time. “You were taking Madison’s place. I could see it all happening again. I could see the whole thing going down exactly—”

  “No one’s ever taking Maddy’s place,” said Roderick. “She was irreplaceable.”

  “And we never meant to leave you out,” Camden added. “You just stopped coming around. Ryan we love you. You’re family. You always will be, no matter what.”

  He rubbed at his eyes, which were a little less bloodshot. He looked no less upset though. No less miserable.

  “Just because Madison’s gone it doesn’t change anything,” Bryce said. “We miss you bro. When you stopped coming around, we figured you needed space. We knew you were hurting. We didn’t want to push…”

  Ryan’s chin dropped as he continued crying. The tears weren’t all bad though. They seemed cathartic. Wholly necessary to finally moving forward.

  The kind of tears that had been held back way too long.

  “I miss her,” Ryan sobbed, and the circle closed around him. Only now the circle was more of a square, because I was there too. “I just… I miss her so much.”

  I put my arms around him, whether he wanted them or not. He didn’t shy away. If anything he melted into me.

  “We all miss her,” said Roderick. “We always will.” He spread his arms wide, closing them around everyone. After some time had passed, he touched Ryan on the cheek and forced him to look upward. “Can I show you something?”

  Ryan nodded, and Roderick led the way back to the house. I knew exactly where we were going. I think we all did.

  “Wow,” Ryan murmured as we stepped inside. He scanned the huge foyer with glassy eyes. “It looks amazing.”

  “Thanks bro,” said Bryce.

  “No really,” Ryan reiterated. “The last time I was in here… there was scaffolding everywhere, and there was…”

  He choked up again, and Roderick took his hand. Up the grand staircase we went, and down the hallway. Ryan’s gaze was everywhere, burdened by the weight of a thousand memories. Occasionally his mouth broke into a shuddering smile, and I knew many of those memories were good.

  Roderick opened the door to Madison’s room and we all stepped inside. Rather than start crying again, Ryan somehow held it together.

  “You kept her stuff,” he sniffed.

  “Yes.”

  “Exactly the way she kept it,” said Camden. “Nothing’s changed.”
<
br />   “And nothing ever will change,” added Bryce. “This place has fifty-five rooms to explore, furnish, and decorate. But not this one. Never this one.”

  Roderick was kneeling now, and he pulled something out from under the bed. It was a wooden box, elaborately decorated. A small brass key protruded from the lockplate on the front center.

  “I found this a few weeks ago,” he said, “when I came in here one night. It belonged to Maddy, but it belongs to you now.”

  Ryan took the box with trembling hands, and Roderick helped him open it. Inside were a mess of loose photographs. Pictures of Ryan and his sister when they were young, and of their parents too. He flipped through them, and started crying all over again. There were holidays. Birthdays. Summer vacation photos of some random lakehouse, with their little family swimming and playing and jumping into the water.

  “Oh…” Ryan murmured. “Oh wow.”

  The photos were tiny windows into the past. A glimpse of happier times, of memories that might’ve been forgotten if they hadn’t been captured on film.

  “I didn’t even know she had these,” Ryan croaked. He was smiling. Laughing. Crying. “Oh my God, this is amazing.”

  “I know you and Maddy lost your parents when you were still young,” Roderick croaked. “But that doesn’t mean you’re alone now.”

  A hand slid over Ryan’s shoulder. I almost didn’t realize it was mine.

  “You’re never alone,” I whispered softly. “Not while you have this place. Not while you have us.”

  I squeezed him and the tears still fell. Eventually he dropped everything back in the box and turned to face us.

  “Do you really mean that?” he asked, looking from face to face.

  Bryce hugged him so hard they nearly both fell over. Camden hugged them both.

  “Always,” one of them murmured. “You’ve had three brothers all along.”

  And a sister… I thought to myself. Tears streaming down my own cheeks. He might not know it yet, and it might be too early to accept it. But in time…

  I enveloped them all with my outstretched arms.

  In time he will.

  Epilogue

  KARISSA

  “So… everything’s set?”

  Bryce walked alongside me, down the carpeted hall we’d walked so many times before. This time we passed through a new door, and into another hallway bustling with people. They pulled luggage carts, left and right. They paused to chat in the alcoves and laugh in the doorways.

  “Roderick tells me everyone’s checked in,” he shrugged. “I think there was one couple that was coming in late, but the rest of the guest list is all here and accounted for.”

  It was so strange, seeing him all dressed up like this. Black dress slacks. White button down shirt. And a tie! Bryce was actually wearing a tie! It was so adorable I wanted to grab him by it and start kissing him.

  “The kitchen’s done prepping?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the dining room—”

  “Is already set, yes. And the cars are all valeted. And the musicians are getting ready. And—”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, allowing myself a small sigh of relief. “Looks like you’ve got it covered.”

  “You’re damned right I’ve got it covered,” he winked back at me. “Or rather, we. We’ve got it covered.”

  We passed a tall window, already swept with snow. Of course we’d get something akin to a mini-blizzard on our opening night.

  “The courtyard’s being kept cleared, right?” I asked as we trotted down the grand staircase.

  “Every two hours, yes.”

  I looked again outside, at how heavy the snow was falling. “Maybe make it an hour an a half.”

  Bryce nodded and adjusted his tie. “Camden will be happy to hear that. For some reason he loves running that plow.”

  Opening night was more of a trial run, really. We weren’t opening Southhold at full capacity, but with only enough guests to make a splash in the headlines. The dinner party we’d decided to host involved most of the historical societies of coastal Rhode Island, plus a good amount of the press. The press likely to give us good press anyway, according to Roderick.

  All that we had to do now was serve a lovely five-course meal, then take people in groups on a late night tour of the manor. That, and make sure the lights stayed on. If we could pull those things off, everything else would fall into place. Hopefully.

  “I can’t believe we’re finally done,” Bryce whistled. “To bring this place from what it was to what it is now…”

  I’d seen photos of the manor before they’d started working on it. To be honest, they were so bad I would’ve laughed and walked away.

  “Those first few years were rough,” he went on. “Really rough.”

  “Yeah, well that’s probably because you didn’t have me.”

  Bryce smirked. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I shot back. “Remember, I whipped this place into shape for you guys. I put you on the fast track to…” I swept my arm grandly across the main foyer. “This.”

  The breathtaking foyer-turned-lobby was emptying out, as most guests were already on their way to their rooms. We made our way past a few lingering arrivals, on our way to the newly-built front desk.

  I can’t believe it’s been two and a half years already!

  My God, it seemed so insane! But that’s actually how long I’d been here. That’s how much time had passed since I first dragged my ass down from New Hampshire, without so much as an inkling as to what I’d be doing with the rest of my life.

  One and a half years with them.

  That part astounded and excited me the most. Getting together with the guys was one thing. It had been fun, spontaneous, deeply romantic. An intense physical attraction that turned a few sparks into a roaring, five-alarm fire.

  But staying with them and growing even closer together over the past eighteen months?

  Well that had been something even more special.

  Eighteen incredible months. Life-changing months.

  It was no exaggeration at all. We’d gone from a loving, budding relationship — although a crazy unorthodox one — to an unstoppable foursome. Three men and a woman hellbent on accomplishing anything, including the re-opening of a century-and-a-half old manorhouse that should, by all rights, have met the ass end of a wrecking ball by now.

  Instead, we were opening all new ridiculously-polished hallways. Repainted and refinished ballrooms, parlors, and libraries. Lushly decorated rooms complete with modern amenities for guests who wanted the best of both worlds.

  And we’d done it all together.

  Oh we’d taken some time to stop and smell the roses. A ski weekend at Killington. A five-day trip to Santa Monica, to soak up some of that lovely California sun. But we always returned here, to get straight back to work. To keep the finish work flowing on Southhold manor, while making sure the guys’ construction company — placed temporarily on autopilot — was still running itself.

  Except of course, for the week we spent in Saint Kitts.

  I glanced down at my finger, and the ring that sparkled there. Three trillion-cut diamonds, arranged in a perfect triangle. One for each of the loves of my life. Representing the three of them.

  My heart melted, thinking back to that one legendary night. The night a few months ago, where the guys had taken me for a walk along the beach.

  The night where they’d dropped to their knees in the surf, and asked me to marry them.

  Of course I’d said yes — in fact, I’d jumped so quickly we almost lost the ring! I knocked it clear out of the redwood box they’d presented it to me in. Together we’d scrambled desperately on our hands and knees, combing the sand before the surf could sweep it away.

  Luckily Camden had a good eye, or good enough fortune to come back up with it. Hearts racing, pumped with adrenaline, they’d slid it over my trembling finger…

  Then we raced back to our beachfront bungalow, where the gu
ys took turns making love to me as their fiancé for the very first time.

  Followed almost immediately by the second time. And the third time after that.

  It was a miracle we survived that trip, considering the sheer amount of raw unchecked sex that took place indoors and out. It was perhaps the one time we didn’t think about Southhold at all. The one time we could actually focus on each other, and not worry about anything else in the whole wide world.

  But now…

  “Ah, good you’re here!”

  Ryan looked up from the front desk, where he stood beside a pretty young brunette with her hair pinned back in a ponytail. A year ago that brunette had been little more than a girl named Sarah, the manager we’d hired to oversee the eventual opening and operations of the place. Now she was a little bit more than that, because Ryan and Sarah had been dating for at least ten or eleven months now.

  And things between them were only getting more serious.

  “Roderick said to keep you here,” Ryan told me. “He wants to go over some last minute things before the dinner party starts.”

  “It’s his speech, isn’t it?” I smirked.

  “Maybe,” Ryan shrugged.

  “Definitely,” Sarah chuckled, adding a little bit of an elbow. “Don’t lie to her!”

  “Fine,” Ryan resigned. “He wants you to hear his speech again.”

  “For the four-hundred and thirteenth time,” Bryce said flatly.

  “Yeah. He says he changed a few things.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I told him not to even make a speech,” said Ryan, “but you know Roderick.”

  “Oh we know Roderick,” Bryce rolled his eyes. “If there’s a podium — any kind of podium — he’s jumping right on it.”

  “Yeah, well this is more of a captive audience,” I quipped. “Still though, this could be good for us. The more information he gives on the manor, the better it is for everyone.”

  Sarah nodded and her ponytail bobbed with her. “The more publicity the better.”

  I wandered away, despite their warning to stick around. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a moment. To really savor the accomplishments of the last two or more years, and to bask in the glory of a job well done.