by Lynn Red
I shook my head, immediately thinking back to the whole werewolf joke he told. “Must be a family joke,” I said. “What the hell runs in a pack? Werewolves?” I scoffed to indicate that I wasn’t serious.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve read enough books about them. Shit, you know what? They kinda look like werewolves are supposed to look. And I’m getting kinda... you don’t have any need for some lesbian experimentation do you?” She was laughing nervously. “Don’t answer that.”
“What the hell do you know about it, brother?” Dane snarled outside, loudly enough for me to clearly hear him. It was... pretty terrifying, to be honest. With the blood dripping everywhere and the pissed off yelling, I was starting to see the werewolf thing – er, I mean, it made sense. You don’t have to believe everything that makes sense. “You’re fighting right now! How can you possibly go on and on about violence being bad and all this, while you are fighting me? How is that reasonable at all?”
“You won’t listen to anything else,” Jake said. He was doing that thing where you talk really low, but it’s still loud and kind of whispery and raspy. That was awesomely hot too, but at that point I was more interested in no one being murdered than the tingling ladyparts. “So I’m doing whatever I can to convince you of how stupid you’re being.”
Dane threw his head back and started laughing, apparently forgetting entirely that he was bleeding all over the place. “I’m the stupid one. I am the one trying to screw everything up, is that right? And yet I’m the only one acting like a predator.”
At that, Jeannie and I exchanged glances. “Predator?” she asked. I shook my head, a little perplexed about the whole predator and prey business.
“If you’re leading the pack, we’re prey,” Dane said and then spat a gross wad on the ground. “We’re wolves brother, we shouldn’t be hiding in the shadows, scared to be who we really are!”
“Holy fuck,” Jeannie said. “I knew it. I totally knew it. I read this one book, and there were—”
“Shhh!” I hissed at her, a finger on my lips. “I have no idea why they decided to do this here, but I’ve got a fairly good idea that we probably don’t want to get between them.”
“Jeez,” Jeannie whined with a wistful look on her face. “That’s what you think. I’m still thinking that I’d accept the lack of at least one arm for... twenty minutes between them. A finger for five.”
I had to laugh. “What do you think being between them would do?”
Jeannie was just shaking her head, repeating the same words over and over – I don’t care what they’d do.
The thing was, she didn’t know what it was actually like to be between those two warring brothers. It was a little irritating, honestly, especially since I didn’t even know what I was in the middle of, much less why the hell I was in the middle of it. One thing she was yammering about did ring true though – there was something about Jake and what he did to me that I couldn’t deny. And even with his yelling at his – admittedly cocky, slightly taller, and pretty good looking – brother and all their going back and forth about the weird predator shit? I was glad he was outside my studio.
I coulda done without the punching and the yelling, but... yeah, there it is, the bald truth.
Through all of these bizarre proceedings, Jake had his broad, muscular back to us. His back, which probably still had remnants of my desperate, clawing scratches, which was clothed in a tightly tailored dress shirt, and which tapered down to his trim waist which I knew had a beautifully muscular ass beneath it... anyway, it was turned to us. Dane, who had either not noticed, or more likely had known all along that we were watching and kept right on mugging for the camera anyway, raised an eyebrow as he looked at us. Jeannie quailed.
“Is that the good one or the bad one?” she asked.
“Can’t you tell?”
She shook her head.
“Look, brother!” Dane said with dramatic gusto, “you’ve been putting on a show. All of your blabbering about keeping secrets and here you are shouting them from the roof.” He shook his head, clucking with laughter. “You can’t do anything right, can you, Jacob?”
Jake turned slowly, giving me a slightly sheepish smile when we came into view.
And then Dane sucker-punched him right in the back of the head.
Jake fell forward, eyes blankly staring and glazed over. His knees buckled, hit the ground hard, and he waivered a moment before toppling over, like a giant felled by... well, by another giant who sucker-punched him in the back of the goddamn head!
I was out the door before I knew what I was doing. My feet carried me forward without any conscious thought on the part of my brain. I vaguely heard the door slap against the jamb behind me as I strode forward, stepped over my felled boyfriend – gulp! I thought it right that second – and stuck my finger in the middle of Dane’s chest. It sank, slightly, into the muscles, which he then bounced. My finger kind of shot backward, though I kept it on him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
Dane was trying really hard not to laugh. “I told you to ignore him,” he said. “I warned you, didn’t I?”
He did that faster-than-light thing and grabbed both of my wrists at the same time. “I warned, you, didn’t I?” he repeated, with more emphasis that time. He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “What a naughty little girl you are, hum? Can’t take warnings, and then you have the nerve to accuse me?”
I was burning in places I really didn’t want to be burning. My wrists for one, because as he talked, he was twisting his hands slowly, giving me the sensation of a rope burn slowly creeping up my arms. “Now is when you say ‘yes sir, you warned me.’”
I stared at the enormous, gorgeous, horrible giant in front of me with my mouth hanging open in an extremely undignified way. As much as I wanted to tell him that he could shove it up his ass, I heard myself repeating what he’d told me to say. I guess for once, my fight or flight response did the right thing. “Y... yes sir,” I said. “You did warn me.”
“Let her alone, Dane,” Jake growled from the ground. “Now.”
“Oh!” Dane said, releasing my hands so forcefully that I tripped over Jake and landed square on my ass. Thankfully all the padding kept me from hurting anything except my pride. That’s one thing I’ll say for my ass – it’s kept me safe from injury more than once. “Yes, yes sir, yes of course, alpha. I’ll do it right now!”
His tone was dripping with mocking and anger so apparent that it made me a little uncomfortable. Jake narrowed his eyes, climbed to his feet and then helped me up. “Say whatever you want, Dane, just get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.”
Laughing, the slightly bigger brother tossed his hair, again mockingly, and then glared hard daggers first at Jake and then at me. “I’ll leave now, but you listen to what I told you. Don’t try me, Delilah. Do you see that I’m dangerous? Have I convinced you that if you keep fucking around with things you don’t understand that you’re making a mistake you’ll never manage to fix? You keep screwing around with all this, little girl, you’re gonna get a lot more than a hurt wrist and an embarrassed, idiot boyfriend. The only way you’re gonna save him – and yourself – is when you give in to me. You’re already mine,” he hissed, “you just have to realize he’ll never be what I am.”
And with that, he turned, mounted an enormous motorcycle that was covered in chrome and flame decals, and sped off. The bike made so much noise that my stomach was sort of thudding in my throat unpleasantly. A few seconds later, that sensation turned to a sour, bile-like taste in the back of my throat.
“Are you okay?” Jake asked, jarring me out of my sickened reverie. “Dane is... why didn’t you tell me he’d come after you?”
“I... I tried,” I said. “I just didn’t want...” I sighed, not able to find the right words. I let my shoulders slump over, and hunched my back in the way my grandma had always whacked me on the arm and complained at me for slouching. “I don’t
know,” I finally admitted. “We were just having so much fun that I didn’t want to talk about him. I didn’t want to ruin it.”
Jake’s mouth drew into a hard line. “He’s dangerous, just like he said. He’s half crazy, and—uh, what’s wrong with your friend?”
I turned around to see Jeannie still standing there with a wide-open mouth and a pair of eyes that you could have landed a helicopter on. She seemed to be stammering something, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Huh,” I said. “I guess we better go check on her. Looks like she’s caught some kind of condition. Like those goats that start honking and then fall over?”
Jake nodded, though I’m not sure he listened to what I was saying. If he had been, there’s no reason he didn’t laugh at my joke, because it was a really good one. And with her shaking chin and look of utter disbelief, she did, in fact, resemble one of those goats. I don’t mean that in a bad way, goats are cute.
With a jolt, I realized that Jake was pulling me toward the studio – the jolt was from my arm reaching full extension and him inadvertently jerking me forward. I had to scramble to get my feet back underneath myself, but it worked out.
“What in the hell was that?” Jeannie asked as soon as we were back in my dusty studio’s office. “I feel like I just watched a nature documentary about bears fighting for territory. You guys could be bears, too,” she was just rattling because she was nervous. Thinking about it for a second, she did have a point.
“Big, muscled up, the hair,” I said. “I could see bears. But no, what the hell was that? And why did it happen here?”
Jake drew his mouth up in a snarl. “He – Dane – is trying to stick his nose into places it doesn’t belong. He’s trying to take over the family business after he booked it for five years to go... do whatever he was doing. And I think I’ve somehow put you right in the middle of all this. And I’m sorry.”
For a moment, I just sat there, staring at him and trying to process everything. “So,” I finally said. “How about that statue?”
-9-
“I know you said you’re not Dracula... but are you sure you aren’t some kind of royalty?”
-Delilah
“What’s the big rush?” Jeannie was laying casually on my couch when I wandered out of the bathroom with my hair in a big wad on top of my head. “And why is there one curler in your hair?”
“Ugh, shit,” I swore, and pulled it out. My hair hung down wavy, except for that one sad loop where I’d left the curler. “I had a moment,” I said. “I thought maybe the curlers, and then I realized that I wasn’t going for Mad Men looks.”
“Oh yeah?” she said, turning on my television. “Coulda fooled me with that lipstick.” She laughed, and took a long swallow of Malbec from the bottle I had set on the end table the night before.
I puffed out my lips in a heavy sigh. “Really? You gonna drink all my milk, too?”
“Nah, you’re out of Oreos.”
“Why am I so damn nervous?” I asked her, completely veering away from her presence on my couch, drinking my wine and insulting my lipstick. Oh the lipstick. “Is the lipstick really too much?” She might be abrasive, but Jeannie is a girl who knows her makeup.
“If you like it,” she said with a patronizing grin, “it isn’t too much.”
“So that’s a yes?”
Jeannie nodded with a mixture of pity and humor in her eyes. “What‘s going on in there, Dilly?” She turned off the TV, pushed herself off the couch with her hands and flopped back down, facing me. She took another drink of my wine and then handed me the bottle. “You know this guy is crazy over you. He just laughed about the arm being broken off, and then laughed again at your Venus De Milo joke, and then laughed again at some outdated reference you made to Ted Danson. And that wasn’t even a funny reference.”
“I know,” I said, sitting down beside her and taking the bottle when she shook it. I took a bolstering swallow. “It’s just...” I exhaled heavily. “I keep saying I know, I know, but do I really? If I really knew, then why would I keep second guessing myself? Why would the monolog in my head just be a constant string of me wondering if I really am good enough for him, or if this is all an idiot dream?”
“Because,” she took the bottle back and then another swig, “you really like this guy. This isn’t a little playing around, and it’s obvious from the way both of you act like lovesick teenagers that it isn’t just a little game for either of you. He’s really into you, too, Dilly, and you want to know something?”
I arched an eyebrow, which she took to mean that I wanted the bottle back. I hadn’t intended that, but I wasn’t going to say no. “Go on,” I finally prompted her, when she didn’t start talking.
“I don’t think he’s quite as comfortable in his own skin as you seem to think he is. There’s something about him that is constantly on edge, like there’s something inside that he’s hiding... like there’s something he’s trying to keep under wraps. Or maybe – you said he took over that company from his dad, right?”
I nodded. “Not long ago, I don’t think.” I handed her the bottle.
“Maybe he’s just not into the whole thing. Maybe he’s not the captain of industry you think he is. I dunno, there’s something about him that’s just aching to get out, you know what I mean? Some secret he needs to let go of, but can’t quite do it. Maybe he’s a failed poet.”
I sighed. “Are you still stuck on the werewolf business? You may as well start talking in animal puns – he loves you beary much, he wants to wolf you up – and talk about how he’s roaring all the time.”
“I said bear,” she corrected me, “but no. You know what I’m talking about. You can tell he’s holding something back. I mean come on – his crazy ass brother? What the fuck was that? There’s gotta be more to it than he’s letting on.”
We fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments. She was on to something, that much was certain. What is it though? What crazy secret can he be holding onto so tightly? He’s got a brother who wants to take his father’s business, but has no real right to it. That’s a little soap opera, but not exactly rare.
“What are you thinking?” Jeannie finally asked when I started chewing on my lip so hard that it sorta started to hurt. “Something’s rattling around in that big empty skull of yours. And don’t sigh again or you might fill the room with a dangerous amount of carbon dioxide.”
I started to sigh and then caught myself with a snorted laugh. “It’s just... yeah, I mean I can see that there’s something he’s keeping close to the chest. At the same time, I also feel a little ridiculous because we’ve been out once, had one round of oral sex and—”
“Yes!” Jeannie squealed. “I finally get you to admit it! You did have a billionaire between your legs!”
I blushed furiously, but knew there wasn’t any way to back out once I’d go so far in. “Well really it was more like he was above me, but yeah, I guess I did, huh? He gave me an orgasm without anything going in me. I swear to God.”
“No. Way.”
“Honest to God. He just kinda breathed on me, pressed a little. Didn’t even take my panties off. It was the craziest thing in the world. Every time he kissed me, I felt like I was gonna... never mind, you don’t want to hear about this.”
Jeannie’s eyes were wide open. “Do go on,” she said. “And do you think his brother can be brought back from crazy land? Because I so need some of that.”
We giggled for a second, I finally getting over the fact that I’d just admitted my sexual escapade... funny thing is, every time I admit one, I get the same pointless embarrassment. “What time is it?”
“Uh,” Jeannie flipped on her phone. “Eight. You better go!”
“How do you know?” I asked, gathering my handbag and wiping the lipstick off, which leaved a tremendous red splotch on the napkin I used. “And you were right about the lipstick.”
“I checked your calendar, Dilly,” Jeannie said flatly. “I am your secretary, on top of bein
g your best friend and giver of sage advice. Now get out there, and come back home to give me a big, juicy story about how you two crazy kids couldn’t manage to get all the way to his mansion without pulling over eight times for quickies. Go, go, go! Holy shit, look at that car!”
She pushed me out the door, shutting it behind her.
All I could do was shake my head and smile. And then I saw it – a Rolls Royce sedan, the kind with the backward opening doors. A man in a tuxedo was standing to one side. I’d heard the car pull up, but had somehow missed him getting out of it, I guess. He smiled pleasantly.
He was tall and slight with a neatly-trimmed, gray mustache, and a very sharp uniform built around his tuxedo. “Evening, Miss Coltrane,” he said. His voice matched his appearance – clean, cultured, and slightly British? “Mr. Somerset regrets to inform you that he won’t be on time for your meal, due to some... unforeseen consequences.”
“Oh,” I said, “then why are you here? He could have just called.”
“Ah, yes, well that wouldn’t be at all like Mr. Somerset. He’s not entirely comfortable with all of this sort of thing yet. And he’s quite discomfited by the idea of canceling – ah, ditching? – a date at the last minute. Especially with you, he wanted me to say.”
“He told you to say all that?”
“No, only the last part.”
I blushed a little and thanked him. “Well but I still don’t understand. If he’s late, then why are you here now?”
“Oh, of course, I’m getting forgetful in my old age.” He smiled, and the mustache twitched a bit. “I’m Barney.”
I waited for a second, waiting for him to say something else. “Hi, Barney,” I finally said when he didn’t.
“Yes! Hello, Miss Coltrane. At any rate, Mr. Somerset would like to extend an invitation for you to meet him at his estate for dinner, rather than Applebee’s.”
By the time I remembered to respond, I was already one leg in the door. Barney seemed amused by that, and closed the door behind me without a further word.
