by Mia Ashlinn
Getting to his feet, Randy flipped off the television and headed for the foyer to check on his more than likely inebriated brothers. They only made this kind of ruckus when they were drunk out of their minds.
Bastards. Randy was definitely not in the mood to deal with two shit-faced brothers tonight, not when he was stone-cold sober.
Randy stopped short when he spotted his brothers standing in the entryway. To his surprise, Jared and Drew wore masks of stoicism. However, their wild eyes directly contradicted their faces. These two were not intoxicated in the slightest. They probably wished they were, but neither of them had overindulged.
“I thought you were going to stay over at Mary’s tonight,” he said nonchalantly, as if he could care less that they had planned on fucking Shannon’s greatest adversary tonight. It made him violent that they would be such assholes. Who the hell dated their woman’s rival for two months? Seriously. Who were they kidding anyway?
They didn’t give a damn about that poisonous bitch. If they did, they would have fucked her before now. Hell, Randy figured they wouldn’t have fucked her tonight, either. They could pretend all they wanted, but he knew better.
Randy prayed Shannon forgave the morons when they worked out all this bullshit between them, and he had no doubt they would work it out eventually. He had started the ball rolling last week by hiring a private investigator to find out what she hid from them and, he suspected, everyone else.
Jaycee didn’t have a clue or she would have shared everything a long time ago. She wanted the four of them to be happy even if she stretched the boundaries of friendship to get there.
After the lengths Gray and Cade had gone to win Jaycee back, she understood that a person will do whatever it takes in the name of love. Randy ought to have a plotting session with his sister. Even if Jared and Drew had given up, he hadn’t. And he wouldn’t.
Jared glared at him viciously, apparently spoiling for a fight. “No.”
Only one thing could have them turned this inside out. “You saw Shannon.”
“Keep your comments to yourself, Randy. I’m not in the mood.” Drew obviously wanted some hand-to-hand combat, too.
Randy turned his back on his brothers and lazily strolled over to a picture of Shannon, Jaycee, and Katie-Anne. He pretended to straighten the frame even though it didn’t need it then swung back around to face his brothers once again. “So what happened?”
Drew ripped at the buttons on his jacket and said, “None of your damn business.”
“Ah-ah,” Randy disagreed. “That is where you are wrong. If it involves Shannon, it’s my business, especially now.”
In the process of kicking off his shoes, Jared froze. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, you two did decide to move on. Right?” Randy smiled cockily. “That makes her my business and not yours.”
Jared rushed at him, grabbed him by his collar and wheeled around to smash him against the wall. It hurt far more than Randy would admit, but he faked a smile he didn’t feel in the least and taunted anyway, “What, big brother? You’re the guys that gave up on her. Don’t you think that you’re both being wishy-washy? Make a decision.”
His brother tightened his grip, making breathing increasingly difficult. Randy wheezed, “Get off the pot or shit, boys.”
Baring his teeth, Jared warned him, “Randy, don’t push me right now.”
“Ah, why not? Big brother didn’t get to fuck out all his aggression?” Randy’s rationality faded as his black temper took possession of his body. “Did Mary have a headache? Poor you. Why don’t you call Leila? She’ll spread her legs as fast as Mary would.”
He peered over Jared’s shoulder to see his middle brother standing against the wall. “Drew, Drew, Drew. Couldn’t you get it up? Usually, a man is much older before that problem sets in.”
Watching his brother’s outrage climb, a compulsion to push Drew over the edge arose inside him. “Dr. Murphy will prescribe you something for your erectile dysfunction. Call him in the morning and you’ll be set. Or, if you are too embarrassed, I’ll be more than happy to call for you.”
Seething, Jared asked Drew, “Want to kill him? Or do I get the honors?” without looking away. Poisonous toxins poured out of Jared’s pores that could kill a thousand men, but Randy was immune to this side of Jared, the side that sent many people scampering away like pussies.
“Yeah, Drew. Who’s calling dibs on killing the only honest man in the room?”
A look of deep contemplation flittered across Drew’s face. The V between his brows deepened, as did his frown.
“I’m waiting, Drew,” Jared groused. “Decide something. My patience is nonexistent.”
Drew continued to think silently, giving Randy even longer to prod them. “See, I told you that you needed to get fucked. If you had, then you wouldn’t be about to commit a crime that will get you thrown into the nearest jail. If that happens, you definitely won’t get laid.”
Looking directly into the eyes identical to his own, Randy took his last stab at Jared. “I bet she won’t even visit you in jail.”
“Fucker, she isn’t visiting me now.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Randy barked at Jared sarcastically. “But at least here you have some cheap piece of ass who’ll fuck you while you pretend she’s the real woman you want. And not even complain when you moan another woman’s name instead of hers.”
Jared snarled. “Yeah, well, we’d have to fuck her first. Wouldn’t we?”
Aha! I knew you two hadn’t touched her.
“I guess it wouldn’t be very appetizing to go from sampling the crème brûlée to eating the off-brand pudding from Garrett’s Groceries,” Randy remarked snarkily. “Talk about lowering your standards.”
“Enough, Randy,” Drew spoke softly, deadly soft. “Drop him, Jared.”
Jared followed his brother’s directions, releasing Randy carelessly. He wobbled, but regained his equilibrium.
“Randy, just because you want her doesn’t give you the right to push us into a place we don’t want to be anymore. You want her, fine, you get her. Leave us the hell out of it.” Drew walked away, his last few words drowned out by his footstep.
Jared agreed, “It’s over for him, but it doesn’t have to be for us. Just stop this before you destroy our relationship with Drew.” His oldest brother followed Drew’s fading footsteps, leaving Randy alone.
What the hell? When had Jared changed his mind?
Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Randy did the only thing he could do until he got time alone with Jared. He called the private investigator and left a message.
Chapter 6
Leaning back into the vinyl chair at Sassy Salon and Spa, Shannon forced herself not to flinch as Sarah Matthews combed through her unruly mass of dripping wet hair. Landon’s foster sister and the owner of the salon stopped and apologized in a tranquil voice each time her comb snagged on a tangle—which was more often than not.
Nearby, Jaycee and Katie-Anne chattered like magpies, gossiping about everything under the sun. They often tried to include Sarah, but the intensely shy woman remained closemouthed as she continued to work on Shannon’s hair.
“I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into this,” Shannon muttered to the friends she couldn’t even see. “I understand the hair and the clothes, but the rest of this is overkill.”
Shannon shifted her lower half then turned and shifted again. “My ass is numb,” she complained, “and these cucumbers are a pain.”
She wanted to cook the stupid things, not wear them. They blinded her, and if that wasn’t bad enough, they were just plain cold. She didn’t even want to get started on the slimy feel of them against her closed eyelids. Yuck.
“Shush,” Jaycee told her in a tone that demonstrated to Shannon just exactly how much her friend enjoyed her discomfort.
A complete head-to-toe makeover? They’d already dragged her to the back of the spa where the masseuse, Faith, had rubbed down every
inch of her body. This would have been her favorite event of the day, if it weren’t for the whole waxing part.
For someone who had never been waxed anywhere, getting her pussy waxed had horrified her. It hurt. Boy, did it hurt. She refused to ever go through that again. They would have to club her over the head first. Shit, knowing Jaycee and Katie-Anne, they would do it just because. Damn sadists.
Kate-Anne’s sultry laugh filled Shannon’s ears. “Talk, schmalk. There was no talking with you, honey. This was a dare, through and through. So suck it up. I’m tired of listening to you moan and groan. You should have done this a long time ago.”
I couldn’t have done this before now, you big goober. Pauley would have killed me if I had. I mean, seriously. Do you think that I liked wearing those hideous clothes and going without makeup? Hell no. I may not be Heidi Klum, but I like the way I look, thank you very much.
An ambrosial scent rose from the ground to Shannon’s nostrils. Jaycee. “Shan, this is just what you need.” Her friend patted her knee. Jaycee’s touch might have been initially patronizing, but Shannon ended up feeling calmer. The tension in her chest loosened, and she could almost breathe normally again.
She’s right. I was planning to do this once I worked up the courage to step out of my comfort zone in front of the whole damn town. They just helped me to do it sooner rather than later.
Shannon plucked the cucumbers off her eyelids so she could see her friends, but the bright sunlight from the window blinded her. “Damn it.” Her hand shot up to block the light, but the damage had already been done. Everything around her looked hazy with distorted colors and giant spots.
“Oh,” Sarah cried as she hurried to spin the salon chair around so that Shannon’s back was to the storefront window. “I’m so sorry, Shannon. Are you okay?”
“Don’t apologize, Sarah. It wasn’t your fault,” Katie-Anne said. “That’s what she gets.”
Shannon grumbled incoherently. At least, she prayed her words sounded inarticulate. If they could make out what she’d said, she would probably end up with blue hair.
“I think someone in here is talking trash about us, Katie-Anne.”
At the end of Jaycee’s sentence, Shannon’s vision finally cleared. She saw Katie-Anne and Jaycee for the first time in two hours. “How long is this crap going to take? I have stuff to do.”
Katie-Anne blew on her wet nails, but managed a quick denial between puffs of air. “No, you don’t, Shan.”
“Yep. We cleared your schedule for the day,” Jaycee informed her smugly.
Shannon wanted to run from the room, screaming for help. When Jaycee acted pleased with herself, she’d usually done something that would land them all in a load of trouble.
Apparently, Shannon wasn’t the only one worried about what Jaycee had done. With her reputation, everyone ran when she had that tone or that look, and Sarah was no exception.
“Oh pickles,” Sarah squeaked. “I, ugh, forgot something in the…storage closet. Yeah, ugh, that’s it.” Scurrying away, she called out over her shoulder, “I’ll be back—later.”
Disregarding Sarah’s vanishing act, Shannon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously on Jaycee. “What the hell did you do?” she demanded to know. “Did you lie, cheat, steal, or borrow?”
Jaycee gasped, “Moi?” She laid her slender hand against her breast, throwing her head back as if aghast. “I would never do any of those things. I’m a good girl.”
Shannon snorted.
Katie-Anne chuckled knowingly. “Right, J.”
Shannon scanned the room with a dramatic flair, calling out, “Anyone have some boots in a size eight?”
“Bitch,” Jaycee spat with a mock scowl, her full lips twitching as she fought the urge to smile. “Fine. I might have told a few teeny-weeny white lies.”
Katie-Anne quit blowing on her nails in midbreath. “Good God, J. What did you lie about?”
Shannon wanted to know the answer but, at the same time, she didn’t. If she stayed in the dark, she could claim innocence. Oh, what the hell? She might as well jump into the deep end and see if she would sink or swim. “That is what I would like to know.”
Jaycee shot out of her chair and crossed the small salon in three steps.
“Jaycee Elizabeth! Get your ass back here,” Katie-Anne ordered sharply as she stood from her seat gracefully. She followed Jaycee to the drink station, grabbed her by the back of her collar, and whispered secretively in her ear.
A jingle at the entrance of the salon captured everyone’s attention.
Svetlana Sokolov and two unfamiliar women crowded into the doorway. The tallest woman looked like a younger version of Svetlana. That must be her daughter…What was her name, damn it? It was the name of a city or something like that. Paris? Sydney? London? No, it’s Brooklyn.
Jaycee squealed when she spotted Svetlana. In the past few months, the two had bonded. No one understood why or how, but they had. Jaycee skipped over to the older woman who held out her arms, and they embraced heartily.
“Who are they?” Katie-Anne wanted to know as she snuck up on Shannon.
Shannon jumped with a screech. “You scared the daylights out of me!”
“I didn’t mean to, but it was still fun. Can I do it again?”
“No,” Shannon said irritably. Feeling guilty for being so snippy, she added, “Sorry.”
“You are not, but that’s okay.” Katie-Anne moved behind Shannon closely and massaged her shoulders. “This is difficult for you. We understand that. Don’t you worry. Everything is going to work out the way it was meant to.”
If someone watched Shannon, she appeared to be eavesdropping on Jaycee and the other three women but nothing could be further from the truth. Her mind held her spellbound. The thoughts dancing through her head enchanted her like a poisoned apple from an evil queen.
Her head swam, creating a psychedelic effect that shoved her into a world she wanted to avoid at all costs. Her buzzing ears tuned out all the noise surrounding her, which perpetuated the loss of her mental presence in the real world.
If things worked out the way they were meant to, she would end up in the arms of the Dalton men. If her life was a fairy tale, true love would triumph, and she would get her happily ever after. But this wasn’t a fairy tale, and Shannon didn’t deserve a happily ever after.
“Are you sure about that?” a voice in the back of her head asked.
Yes. After all, Uncle Pauley had killed her parents because of her. She’d been responsible for their deaths. That knowledge reminded her of why she lived her life like this, why she had no right to a good life.
Her parents had lost their lives. She’d taken it away from them. No, she didn’t stab them, and no, she hadn’t been present. She hadn’t even known—until it was too late. But that didn’t make their violent deaths any less her fault.
After their funeral, she’d made a promise to herself. If they couldn’t have the lives they deserved, she wouldn’t allow herself to have the life they had wanted for her. The guilt of a happy life would eat away at her soul.
The voice popped into her subconscious again, this time inquiring, “Would it? Or are you afraid of getting hurt?”
She ignored that one completely. Letting her doubts grip her only made it harder for her to stick to her promise.
“Was it a fair promise?” the voice persisted. “You were grieving, damn it.”
Bite me.
Her parents wouldn’t want her to live this way, but her guilt didn’t see reason. Shame and regret were strong, maybe stronger than she could fight. She knew that as well as she knew her own name.
“Take a risk,” the voice urged.
She continued to ignore the pesky voice, remembering her parents. They hadn’t wanted much for her. They’d wanted the typical things every parent wanted for their child—love and happiness. She still heard her parents telling her about their future plans for her. She would have to attend culinary school so she could open her own restaurant. Then, she
could look for a man to settle down with and, after a few years of marriage, have a couple of children.
Now, none of that would happen. If she couldn’t have her parents for those things, she wouldn’t have them at all. She would spend the rest of her life working as a waitress at Lou’s instead of spending her days in the kitchen at Dolce Serenità with Stellina like she dreamed of doing.
“Don’t give up on your dreams,” the voice whispered. “Don’t give up on your fairy tale.”
With every word the voice said, her doubts grew. Shut up! I can’t do it. I just don’t think I can.
The voice scoffed. “You don’t think? There’s hope for you, yet.”
A vigorous shaking woke her from her haze. Katie-Anne’s worried voice snapped her to attention. “Shan, are you okay? Why are you crying?”
“I’m fine. Ugh, I’m not crying.” Shannon fluttered her eyelashes, pretending to dislodge a non-existent dust particle. “It was a speck of dust or something.”
Katie-Anne’s eyes softened, the pity shining in her turquoise eyes. Shannon wanted to scream. If there was one thing she would die before accepting, it was pity.
“Shannon, if you keep this up, you’re going to end up losing more than your men. Do you want that?”
In all honesty, Shannon couldn’t figure out what she wanted. And it wasn’t the only thing she didn’t know. Who am I? What do I want? Where am I going?
She had no idea. Hell, she couldn’t even figure out how to find out. Her screwed up life didn’t have a fix-it button, and she couldn’t find an escape. She specialized in existing without living.
She shook her muddled head. Why was she even thinking about these things all of a sudden? Why waste brain cells on something that she wouldn’t change. Would I?
The shaking resumed. “Hello?”
“Katie-Anne, why are you shaking Shannon? She’s not a freaking martini.”
Jaycee’s humor wasn’t welcome for her or Katie-Anne. The tumultuous moment stretched out with silence. Finally, a Russian-accented voice piped up, “What you girls do this day?”
