Finding Serenity

by Amanda Perry

  I warned you. I will not stop until you are mine.

  He's dead. I didn't even know his name. He was always the cop with the phone addiction. Now, he's dead, and it's my fault. He could have a family, friends, kids, and a wife at home. All of them will be notified he was shot and killed while on the job. The job to protect me.

  Someone wraps their arms around my waist, pulling me away from the car. I kick my legs backward, fighting against the person holding me, terrified it’s McCreepearson. I’ll be damned if I let him take me.

  “Taylor, it’s me. It’s just me,” Allistar whispers in my ear, holding me tighter. My entire body sags in his arms, and I allow the tears to fall. Allistar spins me around and pulls my head against his chest. My eyes close, my mind unable to take in any more of the scene around me.

  Marak whispers close to me, "They didn’t want you to see this. Let's get you out of here, Red. We're taking you to our place now. We can grab a few things for now, but we'll come back for the rest later."

  I readily agree with a nod against Allistar's chest. He picks me up and carries me back to my apartment.

  "I'll grab her some stuff, just keep an eye on her." Syn's voice is low, but I hear him. There's no strength left in me to argue about him going through my crap. While wrapped up in Allistar's jacket, being held in his arms, I allow my mind to drift and my body to relax further, pushing everything from my mind. Fatigue overwhelms me, and I allow myself to rest for a few minutes while we wait for Syn to get my stuff.

  13

  Taylor

  When I wake the next day, my head throbs, and my eyes burn. Crying never leaves me in a good state, and this time is no different. The details from last night still sit fresh in my mind, but all I want right now is a drink of water and some pain reliever for my headache.

  When my eyes open, the first thing I see is a set of long gray curtains covering a window. The bright daylight barely peeks through the curtains. I make a note to thank whoever closed them to allow me to sleep without being blinded.

  It takes a lot of willpower to drag myself out of the soft, warm bed, but I manage. The room I ended up in is rather plain and neutral. A lot of grays and whites and minimal décor. The furniture is all black wood, including the queen-sized bed frame. A duffle bag I recognize from the back of my closet rests in the corner of the room. After a quick inspection of the contents, I find everything I need for the next few days. Syn managed to pack well. I didn't get the chance to help him or tell him what to add to the bag. My quick rest on Allistar turned into a deep sleep. Deep enough that I don't remember the ride to their place or being placed in this room.

  It would be rude to wait on finding and thanking them, but my tense muscles scream for a hot shower. Two closed doors are on the far-right wall of the room and one on the wall to the left. Praying one is a bathroom, I swing the first open to a walk-in closet with pillows and blankets stacked high on the shelves. Upon opening door number two, I find a full bathroom and do a little happy dance. The debate over showering now or later ends when the beautiful rainfall showerhead catches my eye. The hot water eases my tension and washes away the remainder of sleepiness. On a normal day, my shower would easily go on forever; however, my curiosity drives me today. Instead of lingering, I speed through and dress quickly in a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater.

  Syn got lucky packing my bag. I have crazy organizational issues. All my outfits match up and hang on the same hanger. It’s clear he simply took a handful out, removed them from the hangers, and folded them together into my bag. A blush stains my cheeks when I find nearly all of my panties and bras packed. My collection is modest. I only buy what I need, a normal amount. Evelyn collects the damn things and should probably take stock in Victoria Secret. She loves to drag Michelle and me on her obsessive trips to the lingerie store. She insists we need ten times what we already have, but the two of us remain firm. You only need so many freaking bras, and I hate wearing them anyway.

  After a quick brush of my teeth and my wet hair, I call it good and toss my stuff back into my bag. The dirty clothes, I set to the side. Odds are good they own a washer I can borrow when I need it.

  I open the third door in the room quietly, then step out into the hallway. To my right, the hallway goes farther down and turns a corner. All the doors are closed, the lights off. Sunlight filters through a window somewhere around the corner, but it clearly isn’t the way downstairs.

  Turning left, I make my way to the wide landing and scan the house. It shocks the hell out of me to find the place neat and clean. From the upstairs landing, I spot a large living area with a decent-sized flat screen television on one wall, a brown leather sofa on the other, and two matching recliners on either side. The front entry resides on the right side of the living room, a large step up separating it from the other rooms. I instantly fall in love with the light hardwood floors throughout the house.

  The staircase curves down and to the left. I follow it to find the rest of the house. There’s chatter coming across the first floor, guiding me to where I need to go. The moment my foot hits the last step, someone says my name, and I freeze. Most people would be ambivalent about eavesdropping on a conversation they’re not invited into. Not me. If someone’s talking about something interesting to me, I’ll listen shamelessly—especially if I’m the subject of said conversation.

  “We can’t let her be alone.” Marak’s low voice floats around the corner. Flashes of the night before and the things he said to me have my thighs squeezing together. Hopefully, he hasn’t told the others what happened between us. I’m not ashamed, and I don’t regret it. But it’s not exactly a subject I’d like spread around. “She needs someone with her at all times. She needs our protection. It’s the whole reason she’s here.”

  “We understand that, man.” Syn sighs loudly. “It’s not going to be an easy thing to get her to agree to, though. At least, I don’t think it will be. She’s independent and feisty. She’s going to want her freedom and having the four of us constantly up her ass is going to piss her off.”

  “She doesn’t have much of a choice,” Maverick speaks up, his tone full of authority and finality. Part of me wants to go over and kick him right in the balls, but at the same time, the possessiveness in his voice turns me on. Something is seriously wrong with me. Not twenty-four hours ago, Marak was inside of me, and now, I’m turned on by Maverick’s stupid voice. Evelyn’s slutty ways might be rubbing off on me. She’d be thrilled by the news.

  More frustrated with myself than the guys, I round the corner with hard stomps. “You should probably include a person when you’re making plans for them.” I point to Maverick. “And you’re so wrong. I have plenty of choices, like shooting your dick with my pellet gun for one.”

  They all visibly cringe at my suggestion. Allistar takes the few steps needed to close the distance between us and rests his strong hands with surprising gentleness on my biceps. He’s done the same move before, and I melt every single damned time. “It isn’t that we want to take away your freedom, Taylor. You have to know that.”

  Allistar’s broad shoulders block my view of the other three, my focus only able to stay on him. He already smells like fresh soap and yumminess, and his dark blond hair is slicked back. Whatever soap Allistar uses, I want to rub it on my pillow at night. If meditation had a scent, it would be Allistar. His presence couldn’t be enough to make me melt into a happy little puddle at his feet. Nope, he has to go and make things more difficult. With his hands on me and his head ducked down to my level, I relent.

  My shoulders lose their tension, and I deflate under Allistar’s bright green eyes, pleading for me to understand. “I get it. But I can’t just let you four dictate what I do and not do with my time.”

  “Then, let’s try to make up some kind of compromise. Are you okay with that?” If he keeps gazing at me like my answers hold the key to his happiness, then I’ll agree to nearly anything for him.

  My nod brings light to his eyes, and I k
now I’m in trouble with Allistar. Hell, if I’m honest with myself, I’m in trouble with all four of these assholes. “Okay, but I need some caffeine if I’m going to talk about serious crap so early in the dang morning.”

  Syn snorts, and I lean around Allistar to glare at him. He smirks. “It’s noon, Taylor.”

  “Holy shit.” My eyes pop wide. “Why didn’t you guys wake me up?”

  “Because your snoring was just so cute.” Syn snickers, earning him a smack upside the head from Maverick. “Ow, why!”

  “Don’t be an ass,” Maverick growls as Syn rubs the back of his head.

  Strolling over to the bar of the kitchen, I slide onto one of the stools then drop my chin into my hands. “Yeah, Syn. Don’t be such an ass.” His gaze shoots to me, and his jaw drops. The side of my mouth quirks up. “That’s Maverick’s job.”

  Maverick's expression morphs from satisfaction at being obeyed to utter shock. Syn and Marak burst into laughter. Even Allistar chuckles a bit. Maverick simply stares at me, his gaze curious rather than pissed or annoyed as I expected.

  With his intense eyes on me, my tummy flutters, and I decide I need a diversion. "So, where can a girl get a decent soda around here?"

  Marak sobers up, his laughter stopping immediately. "Well, we don't exactly have soda right now." By the worry in his eyes, he knows I don't like his revelation. He quickly attempts to ease the sting. "We have coffee, though."

  I groan my displeasure and drop my forehead to the countertop. "Why do you guys hate me so much?"

  Someone steps up behind me, and a hand rubs small circles on my back. Immediately I know it's Allistar. Only he could make me want to fall asleep with a simple back rub. "We planned to get you some things at the store this morning before you came to stay. We didn't exactly have the time, though."

  "We were talking about that earlier, actually," Marak adds. "Maybe we can make a trip to the store later, get you what you want."

  My head lifts, and my eyes seek out his. "You guys are not buying my groceries. But what do you mean we? Like me and you, or all five of us."

  He scratches at his scruffy chin, searching for help from his friends and finding none. "Well, we don't want you alone at all, Red."

  "You can't be serious. All four of you want me to follow you around like a puppy? Can you say overkill?"

  Maverick sighs heavily. "Taylor, you can't just go around alone. It defeats the purpose of us protecting you."

  My instinct is to fight him on it, but I stop myself. Logically, I know he's right, and it would be safer if I stuck with them. Yet every bone in my body screams at me to defy him. If Marak, Syn, or Allistar said the same thing to me, I'd simply agree and go on with my day. Yet, I find myself aiming to irk Maverick. Rather than listen to my logical side, I find myself narrowing my gaze on him. "You're not the boss of me, Maverick. If I want to go somewhere alone, I will."

  Something in his eyes leads me to believe he's pleased with my response though I can't understand why. Shouldn't he argue with me; try to convince me to listen to him? Instead, his gaze nearly catches me on fire with the heat and intensity.

  "Let's try that compromise thing, shall we?" Allistar interrupts the silent standoff between me and his friend. "What if one or two of us are with you at all times. At the very least, one of us. Then, you don't have to stay locked up in the house, and we still know you're protected."

  Biting the corner of my bottom lip, I pretend to consider his offer. Really, I already resigned myself to a full-time babysitter. They won't get me to agree with such ease, though. After a few beats, I finally nod. "Okay, I can agree to that. There is one thing I refuse to budge on, though."

  "Uh oh," Syn mutters, watching me wide-eyed as he waits for me to continue.

  Why do I want to laugh every time the man opens his damned mouth? Even when he doesn't say a word, he makes me want to laugh about everything. Syn has magical powers allowing him to find humor in every situation. It takes real effort to refrain from laughing or smiling like a looney tune every time I look at him.

  Choosing to ignore him, I continue, "I'm going back to work starting tomorrow. If I sit inside doing nothing for another day, I might snap."

  "What happens if you snap?" Marak asks the question with genuine curiosity. He's such a dork.

  I simply grin at him. "You don't want to know, Marak. Trust me."

  "I'll come to work with you tomorrow, then." Maverick doesn't leave room for argument, and for once, I don't poke the bear. Though, I wish the bear would poke me. The sexual innuendos popping up in my mind for each of the guys shows how deeply disturbed I am. "Allistar and Syn will head to the store with you when you're ready. I've got work to do, and Marak needs to catch up on sleep."

  A quick look at Marak and I notice dark circles under his eyes. It makes me wonder if he slept at all. A pang of guilt hits me in the chest. He's exhausted, and it's my fault. Like the cop’s death is my fault. My mood darkens at the reminder of what I’m responsible for.

  The conversation comes to an end when Maverick heads to an office on the other side of the house, and Marak drags himself up the stairs to sleep. Syn and Allistar suggest going to the store sooner rather than later, and I agree.

  The trip is quick and painless. Syn throws a few extra items into the cart while Allistar sticks to a previously written list. The differences between the two of them are vast. Where Syn is happy and goofy, Allistar is serious and reserved. Syn’s protectiveness surprises me. He doesn't let anyone stand between me and them. If someone walks close to me, he places himself directly up against me. Occasionally, he wraps a hand around my waist and pulls me to his side.

  It worries me at first, wondering if Allistar notices, but he doesn't appear bothered. He remains alert to the people milling about the store but allows Syn to do all the protecting.

  When it comes time to pay, I pull out my debit card, but Syn distracts me. When I turn back to swipe my card, Allistar’s already used his own. Syn got a good smack on the arm for his part, but he only laughs and shrugs. The rest of the day consists of relaxation and light conversation.

  Before going to sleep, I give the girls and Grumpy a call. Michelle fusses over me, requiring several promises of my safety. She makes me swear a few hundred times I’ll call if I need anything. She worries too much, and I make sure she knows it. Her focus needs to be on the baby, not me. Evelyn calls me a lucky bitch when I mention staying with the guys. She tells me to sow my wild oats, saying it like Grumpy would. The girl is such a smart ass, but I love her. Both girls agree to stay out of town until they get the all clear from me. Luckily, they planned to be away for a while longer anyway, so it doesn't mess with any plans as of right now. I leave out the events of the night before. They would run home in a heartbeat if I told them about it. Both the shooting and the sex with Marak.

  The tears start as soon as Grumpy answers the video call. "What’n tha hell’d ‘em boys do ‘is time, Tayter-Tot?"

  His greeting makes me laugh through the tears. "Nothing, Grumpy. I just miss you already."

  "Course ya do, I'm a damned peach." He puffs out a deep breath. "I miss ya, too, Tayter-Tot. Ain’t no better ways ta keep ya safe, though. Ya know that, Tayter-Tot"

  "I know, it doesn't suck any less though. My whole family is spread out around the country, and it's my fault." Tears threaten to spill again, but Grumpy stops them.

  "Knock ‘at blamin' bullshit off, right damned now. I'm fixin' ta come back ‘n tan yer hide fer thinkin' any a this shit’s yer fault."

  His familiar growling brings out my smile. He might intimidate other people with his grouchiness, but for me, it's like being wrapped in a warm blanket. "Anyway, I just wanted to be sure you were settled and there safely."

  He huffs. "Yer uncle Howard scooped me up’n some fancy pants sports car. Damned thing don't come more’n a inch off the damned ground. Think he's goin' through a midlife crisis ’r somethin’. If common sense was lard, that man wouldn't even be able ta grease a pan. Damn nea
r broke my hip tryin' to get into the fuckin' death trap."

  "I think you're just used to your truck being twenty feet off the freaking ground." It takes a lot of effort for me to get into his truck when I need to. For a long time, we left a folding stool in the back for me to use, but when I knew I wouldn't grow any taller, I refused to embarrass myself with a step stool.

  "Ain't tha point. He oughta get a normal car like e’ery other forty somethin’ man in the damned world. He don't need that stupid thing." Grumpy pauses, and I know what he's going to say before he even says it. "We're gonna get ya a reliable car when I git home, by the way. I've already been lookin' fer ones ‘at ain't a hundred years old."

  "I like my ladybug. She's been through a lot with me." It's a losing battle. There's not a chance in hell he's going to let me keep my bug, and it isn't something I'm willing to fight him on. After what happened last time I drove her, she needs to retire.

  "Don't give a lick. Yer gettin' somethin' safer. Preferably somethin' that runs." Sarcasm drips from his words. He loves taking digs at my ladybug.

  I simply roll my eyes. "Whatever, we can talk about that when you get back. Right now, I can't go anywhere without one of the guys babysitting me, so I don't think I'll have to worry about driving for a bit."

  "They best be takin' care a ya. I told ‘at smurf boy if even a hair on yer stubborn head’s touched, I'd castrate ‘im ‘n ‘is friends. I worked a farm all ma life, I know how ta get it done quick, fast, 'n' in a hurry."

  After my laughter subsides, we say our good nights, and he promises to call me soon. He'd text, but they always end with spelling errors. Some of them take serious effort to decode what he means to say, like a terrible game.

  14

  Taylor

  Somehow, I need to reward Syn for his diligence. He packed all of my makeup, hair stuff, and two work outfits for me. He promised to stop by my apartment before coming back to the house today to grab a bunch of my other clothes. He even brought a giant suitcase in his car with him when he, Allistar, and Marak left for work. The four of them normally carpool to work, apparently, but since Maverick will be coming to work with me, the suitcase took his seat.