“Taking care of her man,” Trey muttered, and it took me a moment to understand his gruff tone. But when I did, my heart clenched.
Had anyone ever taken care of Trey?
His mom? A girlfriend? Anyone? Judging by his reaction last night, the answer to that was a big fat no. Knowing that, remembering how his family behaved, what little he’d told me about them, my anger grew and grew and kept growing until he pulled into his garage. And then it didn’t stop growing—it just boiled over.
“Babe?”
“Hm?”
“Not sure what my dashboard did to you, but I’m fairly certain it’s gonna catch fire any moment.”
“What?”
I blinked and looked over at him.
“What’s with the look?”
“The look?”
“Yeah, the death rays that were shooting from your eyes and the scowl.”
Okay, that was funny, but I didn’t feel like smiling nor did I feel like participating in banter.
“I’m fine.”
“And I’m not dumb.”
“Please let me have this,” I whispered.
Trey waited a beat and nodded. “For now. But at some point, we’re gonna have to stop putting off these conversations.”
Gah. He was right. There was a lot we needed to talk about, but right then, I had something more important I had to do.
“I know.”
“Tonight I’m cooking,” he decreed. “No phones. No answering the door. Just you and me.”
That sounded perfect. Only, I had one call I had to make before it was just me and Trey. And as I didn’t get to taste any of the dinner he prepared last night, I was also looking forward to him cooking again.
Trey was downstairs in his kitchen. Steaks were on the grill, red potatoes in the oven, and he was roasting green beans. I’d snuck up to his bedroom to make a call.
“You okay?”
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and prayed for patience.
“No,” I answered.
“Where are you?”
I sighed at the worry in my brother’s voice.
“We need to talk.”
“Are you at Trey’s? I’ll come get you.”
Praying wasn’t working. My patience had slipped and so had my sympathy.
“Actually, you won’t come get me. And I’m not okay because you’re acting like an asshole.”
“Addy—”
“No, big brother. It’s your turn to listen and listen good. I know Mercy’s having a rough pregnancy. I can imagine that’s not doing good things for your peace of mind. I can also imagine how hard it is on her and that’s stressing you out. But you do not get to lash out at those around you. You don’t get to behave like an extreme prick to Trey. You don’t get to hurt my feelings and embarrass me.”
“Adalynn, you have no idea who Trey is.”
That ticked me off to a dangerous level.
“How dare you. I love you, Jason. But right now I’m so ashamed of you and Dad. So freaking ashamed, I don’t know what to do with how mad I am. You…you of all people are judging Trey. I assume you’re still talking about how many women he’s slept with. Which is none of your damn business—”
“It is when my baby sister is the latest in a long line of women who have warmed his bed.”
“So if Mercy’s dad was alive, would it be his business to judge you on all the women you’ve slept with?”
“Ad—”
“Just stop. I am not your baby sister. I’m just your sister. And I’m not some stupid twit who doesn’t know the way of the world. I do not care about Trey’s past and the longer you hold on to this and behave like you’re behaving, which to say is not like my loving brother, the more you’re gonna drive a wedge between us. And it bears repeating I’m absolutely ashamed of my family, something I never thought I’d be. Get. Over. It. And be the man I know you to be, not this jerk who’s stuck in his own past so he’s taking it out on those around him.”
That might have been too far, but in my anger, I didn’t care. “It’s crap, Jay. And you’re hurting me because you’re hurting Trey. His family treats him like he’s an outsider, his brother is horrible, and when I say that I can’t stress that enough. His dad is…I have no words for him, he’s just mean. And his mom is sweet but beaten down. He does not need this from you or Dad and I will not stand for it. This is your last warning. Get the fuck over it or stay the hell away from me.”
“Addy,” he scolded, and I knew why. I rarely cursed but I was so irate I didn’t care. “We’re your family.”
“You are. Though remember the part where I told you I was ashamed of you?”
“You’re seriously calling me to tell me you’ll pick him over me?”
Well, I hadn’t intended for the call to take that turn, though it seemed to.
“If you don’t stop, then yes. I’ll take his back over you and Dad.”
There was a long stretch of silence. I needed this conversation to be done so I could get back downstairs before Trey came looking for me. I also needed this done because my heart was breaking.
“Fuck,” he clipped.
“I see you get me. So we’re done.”
“We’re not,” he disagreed.
“We are, Jay. This isn’t a two-way chat so much as it’s me telling you, you’re gonna cut the crap or I’m gonna cut you out. That’s it. Please give Mercy my love.”
I ended the call, turned my phone on silent, tossed it on Trey’s dresser, and went in search of my man.
Either Jason would listen or he wouldn’t. If he didn’t, my heart would shatter but I wouldn’t back down.
Taking care of her man.
Yes, Hadley was taking care of Brady.
Takin’ my back.
Yes, I was taking my man’s back the same way he’d taken mine.
“Adalynn,” Trey groaned.
I was on a downward glide.
“Almost,” I panted.
His hand left my hip, slid up my side, his thumb swiped my nipple before he went back and rolled it between his fingers.
A shiver skated down my spine and I tipped over the edge.
Heaven.
Trey cocked his legs and powered up into me, seeking his pleasure while my climax seared through me.
So good.
“Mouth,” he grunted and I fell forward to happily carry out his command.
His arms went around me, he drove me down, filling me completely. At the same time, his tongue tangled with mine, and he filled me a different way.
My orgasm was sublime. His tasted better.
22
There was nothing better in this world than my cock buried deep and Adalynn’s weight on my chest. Nothing compared. Only thing that came close was when I was on top and all four of her limbs were wrapped tight and she was holding on.
But there was something about the feel of her on top of me, with her face shoved in my neck, her breath fanning over my skin, her heart pounding against my chest, the smell of her hair, my arms wrapped around her, and her melting into me.
The best.
Both ways good, one way her claiming me, the other me claiming her.
“Trey?” Addy muttered, then pressed her lips to my throat.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Can’t breathe.”
My arms loosened but I didn’t move them.
“Better?”
“Yeah.”
I took a few more moments committing the feel of her to memory before I rolled us to the side. Addy being Addy, not wanting to lose our connection, arched into me. This was something I fucking loved. Didn’t know I needed it until she gave it to me. Though, likely, I’d never needed it before. It was her, the way she sought closeness, the way she reached for more, sparked something inside of me to life. A feeling that warmed me straight to my soul—raw, relentless, and ruthless in its invasion. I wanted it just as badly as I feared it.
A man who has it all has everything to lose.
I wanted it all—everything. Jasper was right, the promise of Addy was just the beginning. The depth of her character, her loyalty, her sweet brand of protection. I wanted her to give all of that to the horde of kids I’d never wanted before I met her. In my opinion, Hadley had the right idea—the more the better.
I wanted to be a man who had it all and worried every day about all the precious he had in his life, all the beauty his wife had given him. I’d take the worry and fear if I had Addy by my side.
“Where’d you go?” Addy whispered and trailed her fingertip over my forehead, down my temple, and traced the line of my jaw.
I didn’t tell her my thoughts. Instead, I asked, “You don’t see them, do you?”
“See what?”
Jesus, fuck.
Every damn time she reminded me, it’s like a kick to the gut leaving me breathless.
“My scars.”
Her gaze darted from mine to the side of my face and her eyes roamed.
“They’re just you.” She shrugged one shoulder and resumed scanning. “I can’t say I don’t care about them, because I care deeply about how you got them, but beyond that there’s…I don’t know, not much to say about them. Same for the burns on your back. I see them and think about how painful it must’ve been while the injury was healing, but it’s just another part of you.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and knew she meant every word she said.
“May I ask you something, Trey?”
“Of course.”
“Why does your brother dislike you?”
Leave it to Adalynn to get straight to the point. She was shy and quiet with most everyone, but she didn’t mince words. And as I was learning, she wasn’t shy with the people she trusted, she was open and honest.
Except she had a secret. One I intended to learn, only I couldn’t dig it out like Jasper had suggested. I needed her to give it to me. Not because I’d coaxed it out of her, but because she trusted me enough to give it freely.
“Have you ever dealt with a narcissist?” I asked her.
“No, I don’t think so.” She scrunched her face and looked so fucking cute doing it I bent and pressed a hard kiss to her pinched lips, then pulled back and settled in.
“My dad’s a narcissist. For as long as I can remember, he also has a nasty temper—each on their own isn’t easy to deal with—combined torture. When I was a kid, I could sense how bad the night was going to be as soon my dad got home. We had three options; he’d come home all smiles and praise my mom and brother, he’d come in and immediately start belittling, or he’d come in and sheer evil would roll off his tongue. The first I ignored, the last two I tried to shield CJ from.
“The problem with that was CJ wasn’t stupid, he found a way to play my dad. It’s like the two of them are co-dependent in their dysfunction. My dad is a textbook narcissist. He’s never wrong, he believes he is more important than anyone else, therefore the smartest, the best, and everyone around him should stroke his ego and give him proper credit. And when CJ was a teenager, he learned if he stroked Dad’s need and kissed his ass, Dad would mostly leave him alone. But if CJ idolized him, worshiped him, and crawled up Dad’s ass, then Dad not only stopped ripping into him, but returned the worship.
“So the cycle began and they became a team. I don’t know if it was something that CJ was born with, therefore destined to become a narcissist as well, or in a desperate attempt at self-preservation, CJ learned it. I don’t know if CJ truly hates me or if he says and does things he knows will impress my dad, even inwardly, so he stays in his good graces. There’s no way CJ could forget how bad it was when we were growing up. So part of me, albeit a tiny sliver, understands why my brother cuts me down.”
“Did he hit you?”
There was a wobble in Addy’s voice that made my muscles tighten and I forced them to relax before I answered, “No, baby, he didn’t use his fists. He found other ways to strike.”
“Your mom?”
The wobble turned into a tremble and I really didn’t fucking like what that tremor was saying. So I went gently but I still went for it.
“Did Keith take his hands to you?”
I watched her flinch, and the shutters slammed down before she responded.
“Why are you asking about him?”
Why? Christ, how could she ask that?
“Twice, I saw it. Once, when you thought I was telling you who you could be friends with and once when Bass wouldn’t let you go. While it’s uncool any man has a hold of you and you ask him to let you go and he doesn’t. But I was there—that time, I didn’t only see your reaction, baby, I felt it. And your reaction didn’t say uncool, it said scared as fuck. Now, you being in a room with your sisters close—me close—no way should you be scared. So, to me, what I felt coming from you, it screamed flashback.”
The shutters locked and her face closed down at the same time her body got tight.
Fucking, fucking, shit.
Motherfucker put his hands on her.
White-hot rage scored through me.
“Baby,” I whispered, uncaring it sounded as tortured as it did. Not giving two shits I wasn’t hiding my anger.
“He didn’t. Um. Not really. Not, um, like, punch me.”
Punch?
“Adalynn, I’m gonna say this as plain as I can—a man puts his hands on you in anger, no matter he balls up his fists, kicks, slaps, holds you down, grabs you, or any other matter it can happen, he’s wrong. Flat-out wrong.”
We were on our sides, lying close—so close, I couldn’t miss it but even if we were miles apart, I was looking for it so I wouldn’t have missed it. It was just that up close when it happened I didn’t just see it, I didn’t feel it, I absorbed it.
The lock she’d turned wasn’t strong enough to keep back what had been piling up behind it. Her green eyes flared, fear flashed, then wet pooled before it spilled over and ran down her cheek.
Then she delivered her blow.
“I can’t talk about it. Not that I don’t trust you to take it, I don’t trust myself to give it. I shoved it down into a dark place, so dark I can’t feel it. I’m afraid if I open the door it will explode all over the place and I’ll never get it back. It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, Trey, it’s that I can’t.”
During this time, my muscles coiled tighter and tighter until I felt like I was going to snap.
“Baby, once you give it, you’re not supposed to take it back.”
“Can’t.”
Addy closed her eyes, shutting me out, and the pressure in my chest grew.
The motherfucker had taken his hands to her.
And no one intervened. Which meant she’d hid it. A week ago, I would’ve said Addy couldn't pull anything over on Jasper, most especially something like this. Yet, there it was.
I shoved it down into a dark place, so dark I can’t feel it.
“Okay, baby.”
I felt her body relax and I knew I made the right decision not to push. Without opening her eyes, she dropped her forehead to my shoulder and scooted closer, and I gave her the only thing I could give her—silence.
It took a while, but her breath evened out and she melted into me. Only then did I exhale.
That night, Adalynn Walker found sleep. I, however, did not.
23
“Really? I can?” I excitedly asked and flipped Trey’s omelet.
When I was done with that, I craned my neck to look at him sitting at the bar with a cup of coffee in front of him. Incidentally, Trey made great coffee. Or I should say, Trey bought expensive, Jamaican coffee beans he ground fresh every morning.
“Yeah. I called Bass yesterday, asked him if I dropped you off if he’d bring you back to the compound after you were done.”
Unease choked out the happiness I’d felt moments before when Trey told me I could go to my kickboxing class. It had been a week. A great week of living and getting to know Trey. He’d made it so great I’d forgotten I was there because I was
on lockdown.
“You called Bass?”
“Babe, the eggs.”
I turned back to the stove, slid the omelet on the plate that already had three rashers of crispy-nearly-burnt bacon on it. Something I learned about Trey while living with him, he liked his bacon nearly burnt, his eggs still runny—if you could believe that, gross—and his toast lightly browned.
We’d fallen into an awesome routine. I cooked breakfast—but he made the coffee—we ate lunch at work, and he cooked dinner. After dinner, we’d lounge. Sometimes we watched TV in the living room on his big comfy couches and I’d been right, they were warm and inviting and when you sat on them you wanted to snuggle under a blanket and not move. But the best part about those couches, they came with Trey. And once we sat down and he arranged me where he wanted me, which was as close as he could get me, I never, ever wanted to leave.
Some nights after dinner and clean up, we’d relax in his Jacuzzi and he told me more about his family. None of it good. He hadn’t shared a single good memory and I couldn’t fathom growing up the way he had. I had a good, loving, tightknit family. That drove me around the bend with their in-your-face nosiness, but it was always done out of love. Even my brother being a monumental jerk was shrouded in adoration, even if I had to dig deep to find it.
But I could’ve dug to China and not found a shred of evidence to suggest Carl, CJ, or Paige loved Trey. Carl and CJ were obvious. They were jerks. But Paige was a puzzle I couldn’t figure out. I’d spent one evening with the woman, and while she was nice…ish…it was clear she didn’t attempt to protect Trey from her husband’s venom. Nor had she corrected or reprimanded her other son for being downright cruel to Trey. She was no help whatsoever. I couldn’t wrap my head around how a mother could stand by and meekly watch one of her children get verbally attacked.
Emily Walker would rain hellfire and scorch the earth before someone would abuse one of her children.
Shame coiled in my stomach and I rushed to put Trey’s plate in front of him.
“Bass?” I asked, needing desperately to clear my mind of the past.
Flawed (Triple Canopy Book 2) Page 19
