Finding Serenity

by Amanda Perry

  “Mav!” Syn cries out, his finger pointed to the scene I already found.

  “Son of a bitch.” Maverick presses harder on the gas. The truck swings around to the same side Taylor stands on. Maverick throws it into park at the same time Taylor manages to nail the guy in his rocks. That’s my girl. Pride swells in my chest when she uses a move I taught her, bending the guy's wrist backward until it breaks.

  The four of us jump out of the truck and rush toward Taylor while the asshole in the hoodie bolts away. Marak draws his weapon. He has the best aim out of us all, so we rely on him to take the tricky shots when necessary. He fires twice, one bullet misses its target by less than an inch and hits the car the man runs past. The second bullet manages to hit the guy in the side, though I can’t tell from my angle if it was a graze or if the bullet will do real damage. Hopefully, it’s the latter.

  I reach Taylor before the rest of them, my arms wrap around her and pull her body to mine. A quick twist of my feet and her back now faces the opposite direction of Marak’s open fire and the man who may or may not have a gun. Marak would never miss and hit us, but it isn’t clear if his target is armed.

  Syn and Maverick come to cover her with me while Marak attempts to get a good shot in. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of people around, and it’s dangerous to pull the trigger. The guy manages to get into an old, beat up Chevy and speed away. Marak gets one last shot in, shattering the back windshield. I want to follow him—all of us do—but Taylor is more important. We need to be sure she’s okay, and it wouldn’t be smart for any of us to follow him alone.

  “Did he hurt you, Red?” Marak holsters his pistol when he reaches us and runs a hand down Taylor’s back. His eyes follow his hand as he searches for injuries.

  I hold her at an arm's length and check over her front. Nothing stands out to me, and I let out a breath of relief. It doesn’t last long, though.

  The fire in her eyes makes me nervous, and as soon as she opens her mouth, I know we’re in big trouble. “So now you care? How convenient.”

  “What do you mean?” Marak cocks his head to the side, oblivious to her anger. If I could reach him, I’d hit him upside the head for opening his mouth.

  Taylor rubs her temples, and her body jerks with harsh shakes. I can’t tell if it’s from adrenaline or something else. The way Syn fidgets around, I know he wants to ask her. He needs to check her over to ease his mind. He knows what to search for when it comes to injuries and trauma. We know some, but Syn is our go-to.

  “Forget it, I just want to get my crap and go.” Taylor continues to rub her temples, her eyes shut tight.

  It becomes too hard for Syn and me to handle. He needs the reassurance she’s physically fine; I need to be sure she’s okay in every other way. Whatever pushed her over the edge, if Syn can’t fix it, I need to.

  Syn presses his front to her back, his lips come to rest against the back of her head. My chest tightens with jealousy at the intimate move, but I stamp it down. Now would be the wrong time to fight with my best friend.

  “What’s going on, Taylor? Talk to me,” Syn whispers against her hair. The whole time, I hold her hand in mine, her body only inches away. She’s nearly sandwiched between us, and for a second, I assume she wants to push us away. Instead, she surprises me when her body sags into both of us. Her hands come to rest on my chest, and her head drops onto Syn’s shoulder.

  “The past week was actually nice for me,” she admits quietly, her eyes closed. “I liked taking care of you guys. All of you. I liked having the four of you need me, want me. But I had to work from home also, which meant while you four slept, I worked. I didn’t sleep all week. I didn’t have my caffeine the past few days because I ran out and didn’t want to bother you guys to take me to the store or worry you by going alone. I purposefully didn’t use the last of the coffee so there would be some for this morning’s pot, even when I really needed it just to function yesterday.”

  Her voice breaks, and she sniffs. “I just wanted some sleep. I need sleep and caffeine. When Syn woke me up after I’d just gotten to bed, I was mad. Then, he said I was lazy, and I know he was joking, but after the week we had, it hurt.” She shrugs.

  Her head lifts from Syn’s shoulder, and she steps out from between us. Marak stops her from going anywhere with an arm around her waist while Maverick puts his hands on her arms and rubs them up and down. Something in the way my best friends comfort the girl I find myself falling for hits me hard. I can’t decide if my jealousy is stronger than the comfort of knowing they care about her, too. They’re as concerned about her wellbeing as I am. Analyzing my feelings about everything will need to wait, though.

  She turns her eyes away from them both. “Maverick looked at me like I’d done something horribly wrong when Syn came downstairs mad at me. I didn’t mean to hurt Syn like that, but he made me really mad. Then, I had no caffeine and no medicine for this headache that won’t go away. You guys were arguing over who had to deal with me, and it stung...a lot. I don’t need to be coddled or babied. But I just wanted some caffeine, medicine, and sleep. That’s all.”

  A few tears slip down her cheeks, and my heart breaks at the same time the guilt sets in. She’s in tears, and it’s my fault. All of our fault. We couldn’t act like adults and help her. Instead, we bickered and bitched, making her believe none of us wanted to deal with her.

  No one speaks for a long time. The four of us exchange loaded stares. None of us know what to say to make things right with Taylor, and we sure as hell don’t want to say the wrong thing and make it worse. Taylor groans, her fingers pressing against her temples again.

  Syn snaps back first. “Let’s get you home, Taylor. Marak can grab the stuff you need and meet us there. Allistar, can you drive? She shouldn’t be driving with her headache this bad.”

  I nod and grab the keys from Taylor as she blindly pulls them from her pocket and holds them out. Marak hugs Taylor once more. He whispers something into her ear and kisses the side of her head. He lets her go and jogs toward the store. It takes serious effort not to say anything about how the guys are all over her. We already fucked up once today; I don’t need to add to it.

  “Mav, can you stay with Marak? Someone will need to call this incident in and drive the truck back. Maybe you can grab Taylor something to eat while you’re here?” I spin the keys on my finger, my eyes on Syn as he helps Taylor into the small backseat of my car. She lays down, pulling her hood over her head.

  Maverick swallows hard while we watch Syn and Taylor, but nods to me. “Yeah, I’ll grab her something. Who knows when she had a real meal last. She’s been dealing with our sorry asses for over a week now.”

  “After we get her settled, we’re going to need to talk, aren’t we?” I’ve known Maverick for a long time. All of the guys, actually. They all met in elementary school, and I met them at the beginning of high school. Still, we all understand each other. We can read each other better than anyone else. Maverick gets this look in his eye whenever he needs to talk something out. He spends time sorting shit in his head, then he talks it out with us.

  Marak and I don’t mind the wait while he mulls things over. Syn goes apeshit if he notices Mav deep in thought and can’t figure out what to expect. Sometimes Marak and I sit back and watch the show. Maverick walks around like a zombie, too consumed with his own mind to notice anything, and Syn paces a hole in the floor.

  Marak and I react similarly to how we handle things. We both keep cool heads in most situations. He takes everything in stride, never really finding issues or oppositions. All I care about is making sure the people I love are okay. As long as they’re okay, then I’m fine.

  Maverick nods once. It’s the only response he gives me. He pulls his wallet from his pocket, his badge inside, then turns toward the patrol car pulling into the drive. While he and Marak get whatever Taylor needs and sort out everything here, I hop into my car and take my girl home.

  I’d be lying to myself if I considered her anything but m
y girl. The only problem is, my best friends appear to be in the same boat as me.

  Taylor sits up as soon as we pull into the garage. I hoped she would fall asleep so we could put her in bed, but she seems to be too uncomfortable to rest. Syn and I get her to her room and in bed. She doesn’t say anything to us, but she lets us help her. It’s more than we deserve.

  Maverick and Marak walk into the house about five minutes after we get Taylor settled. Maverick brings up the soda and some crackers for her, and Marak hands her some pills. She takes the pills and drinks half the bottle then sets it on her nightstand. Maverick silently forces her to eat two of the crackers. He whispers a promise of real food when she wakes. She eats them slowly, then drinks the rest of her soda. I take the empty bottle as she curls into a ball on her side.

  Marak and Maverick whisper for her to get better before they leave her room. Syn makes her promise to come to us if she needs anything or call if she can’t get up. He settles for a small nod as her agreement and puts her phone beside her pillow. I kiss her temple and tell her we’ll be downstairs if she needs anything. She doesn’t respond, but I can’t tell if it’s because she’s still mad or if she’s fallen asleep.

  By the time I make it down to the living room, the guys are situated around in complete silence. I grab an empty seat on the couch and wait. None of us talk for a long time. We know Maverick needs to open the conversation, so we wait. Marak and I exchange grins when Syn’s knee begins to bounce up and down.

  Maverick finally breaks the silence. “We need to call the Harper-Smith family.”

  Syn frowns, his knee halting the rapid bounce. “What the fuck for?”

  Marak nods at Syn. “We can take care of Taylor on our own, Mav. We don’t need their help.”

  Maverick rolls his eyes, and I rub the bridge of my nose. Syn knows why we need to call them, that much is clear in his angry glare. Marak is a smart guy, but sometimes he needs shit spelled out for him before it makes sense—he is the definition of ignorance is bliss sometimes.

  “Not because of that, Marak. It’s because of us, and the way we’ve been with Taylor.” I pat his shoulder when the light bulb flickers on above his head.

  Maverick addresses Syn when Marak’s confusion clears, “Because things around here are getting pretty intense, and we need to talk to someone who has been in this position before.” Maverick somehow has the patience to handle Syn most of the time.

  Syn sets out to protest, but I stop him. “Are you going to tell me you don’t have feelings for Taylor? That you don’t want to pursue some kind of relationship with her?” His jaw snaps shut, and I nod, knowing I’m right. “Would you rather fight your best friends, your brothers, for her or find a different solution? While we’re there, we should ask them if they’ve heard anything about Pearson. I know they’re looking for him, too. In case he tries to go after Parker again.”

  “Are you telling me all four of us have a thing for her?” Syn growls as if it’s our fault. “What the hell are we supposed to do with that? Even if we do agree to something like the Harper-Smiths’ have, Taylor isn’t going to go for that.”

  “Got a better idea?” Marak challenges, and it shuts Syn up again. He knows it’s our best option if we want to keep Taylor and our relationship with each other intact.

  Maverick pulls his phone from his pocket. “Okay, I’ll give Dom a call. The sooner we get together with them, the better.”

  This talk with our friends could make or break my bond with my brothers and my feelings for Taylor. The logic is simple, decide if a girl is worth losing my family for or if I’m willing to share her love and affection. Making that decision... That’ll be the hard part.

  18

  Taylor

  It was early afternoon when Syn and Allistar stuck me in bed, but when I finally wake up, the clock on my phone reads nine in the morning. It must be Tuesday, which means I slept almost twenty hours. My head isn’t close to explosion anymore and aside from my bladder’s cry for relief, I feel refreshed. Somehow, I managed to avoid the shit the guys came down with and got a serious case of caffeine and sleep withdrawal instead. Lucky me.

  The guys came in to check on me while I slept. Each time they’d cover me if I wasn’t already covered and kiss me in some way. Maverick kissed my forehead when he came in. Allistar kissed my cheek. Syn, the top of my head. Marak made the boldest move by kissing the side of my mouth.

  They didn’t know I was awake when they came in every time, and I won’t tell them. They opened the door quietly, snuck in, checked on me, gave me a kiss, then snuck back out. For some reason, every time the door opened I’d wake up, though. As soon as the door closed, I would fall back to sleep again.

  During the night, I decided to finally forgive them for being jerks. They made up for it by watching over me all night. None of them said anything about what happened, but they all showed me they were sorry. Actions mean more to me than words.

  With it only being nine, I have time to get ready for work and go in a little late. I know someone will be here to go with me. They’d never leave me alone. While going through my morning routine, I remember my escapades from yesterday. Allistar probably wants to bury me in a shallow grave for the small grand theft auto mishap. His shiny yellow car drives like a dream, though. I wonder if he’d let me drive it if I ask next time. It would be fun to find out how fast it can go.

  The son of a bitch who tried to grab me the minute I stepped out of the pretty yellow car terrified me. Without the moves Allistar taught me, chances of me getting away were slim. Even then, I’m sure he would have overpowered me eventually. Next time I talk to Allistar, I’ll need to thank him for the lessons on how to break a wrist. And possibly apologize for the car theft, but I’m undecided if I’m sorry about it or not.

  Although, he may never let me play with it again if I don’t apologize. I wonder it works similarly with other things he owns, too. Damn it, why can’t I take sex off my mind for three seconds? The incident yesterday was the first time in a long time my perverted mind didn’t live deep down at the bottom of the smutty gutter. I was simply in too much pain and too scared to consider sex.

  The guys showed up in the parking lot at exactly the right time. They probably believe I don’t know they put a tracker on my phone. I’m not stupid; I watch enough crime shows to know how this crap works. Plus, there’s no way in hell they figured out where I went without it. I didn’t say anything to them about it because at the moment, I was glad they put the tracker on my phone. I needed them, and they came for me, protected me.

  While hooking my bra, I glance in the mirror and notice two dark bruises in the shape of handprints on either side of my ribs. The guy who grabbed me was twice my size and would give any of the guys a good fight. I didn’t get a good look at his face, and he didn’t say anything, meaning there’s no way for me to know if was McCreepearson or not. I bet dollars to donuts it was either him or someone he hired. At least, I hurt him before the bastard took off.

  Finally ready for the day, I bounce down the stairs and into the living room. None of the guys left yet, though they’re clearly ready for work. Except, Syn, who wears a pair of faded jeans and a gray V-neck shirt. Four sets of eyes turn to me as soon as I step into the room, then they widen into saucers.

  Before we dive into the inevitable conversation they’re clearly intent on having, I bypass them and stride into the kitchen. When I pull the fridge open, I bark out a laugh of surprise. Four packs of Diet Coke line the bottom shelf, all full and ready to be consumed by me. I scoop up one of the ice-cold cans and skip back into the living room while holding it to my chest.

  Syn snorts and rolls his eyes when he catches sight of it. “Addict.”

  “Admittedly so.” I pop the top and take a long drink. It’s probably the best Diet Coke I’ve ever had in my life. “You guys can stop looking at me like I’m going to lose my shit any second.”

  Three of them turn their eyes away, their ambivalence morphing into guilt. Syn, on t
he other hand, continues to study me which causes me to squirm in my seat.

  The staring becomes too intense for me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  "Because it makes you all squirmy." He grins cheekily and manages to dodge my hand when I lash out to hit him on the arm. "Oh no, I'm not letting you get another hit in. You've had enough of them. Go hurt one of them."

  "They aren't a sissy like you are." I giggle when his jaw drops, and the others laugh.

  Maverick clears his throat. His ever-present composure brings a halt to whatever smart-ass thing Syn was about to say. "We need to talk, Taylor."

  "I figured. I'd really love to know what the hell happened with that douche nozzle from the store yesterday." They clearly have things to say, and I sit back with a gesture for them to continue.

  Maverick sits up straighter, his eyes serious. "We were up most of the night trying to track the guy down. Marak managed to shoot out his back window and get a good shot to his side. We have alerts at all the surrounding hospitals, but it doesn’t look like he's going to seek medical attention."

  "It was only a graze. He could probably patch it up himself." Marak adjusts the beanie on his head and blows out a frustrated breath. "I should have gotten a better shot."

  "You could have hit someone else. It's better you didn't try." My words bring surprise to his face, and he blinks a few times before he smiles wide. "I'm a sniper, Red. It's my job not to miss. I just got distracted and fucked up the shot."

  "Why were you distracted? Was it all the people crowding around like it was a freaking circus?" It pissed me off when I noticed a ton of people race over to catch a glimpse of the action. Dozens of phones were pulled out for videos and pictures, yet not one of them stepped up to help. No one even had the sense to get out of the way. They only wanted a good show.