The Dirty Dozen: Damsel Edition

by Kay Maree

  “Jesus, Reid,” Tate hisses.” Hurry the fuck up, dude. The big guy’s about to blow,” he adds, referring to the mottled red color my face has turned.

  Faye hasn’t uttered a sound as yet, but whimpers quietly at Reid’s last sentence. Pulling her across the armrest that separates us and onto my lay, I position her legs over mine and tuck her head into my shoulder. Stroking up and down the length of her back, I try to comfort her as best I can without knowing what we’re dealing with.

  “Calm the fuck down,” Reid demands. “For once in your lives, you need to listen. Don’t speak. Don’t run your mouths. Just fucking listen for a change.” Composing himself, Reid asks, “How you doing, sweetheart? Are you keeping it together?”

  “She’s fucking trembling in my lap. Is that answer enough to how she’s coping?” I snarl.

  “I suppose it is,” Reid concedes. “Look, when Faye came to me with this issue, I’ll admit, I didn’t think anything of it. A few letters from die-hard fans isn’t something to get worked up about, so I put them on the backburner. That was my mistake, and for that I am sorry.”

  I can hear the remorse in his voice, but that still doesn’t clear anything up for us. What he says next does, though. It makes everything crystal fucking clear. “Five letters turned into dozens, and those were not in the same vein as the ones that came before them. They didn’t contain avowals of love and devotion, offers to have your children, or include naked pictures like Faye’s come to expect from your more excitable fans. As soon as, Faye forwarded me copies of the last two, I contacted my security team immediately and put them into play.”

  “Tell. Us,” I growl, sounding more like an animal than a man.

  “These last two were death threats, Dante. Very carefully worded, very explicit, very detailed death threats.”

  “Fuck me sideways with a band saw,” Cole spits. “Against who? Which one of us has gained a psycho?”

  “Faye,” Reid states simply, and the mood in the car goes wired.

  “Come again,” Dylan sneers, grinding his back teeth together. “Why the fuck would someone want to hurt, Faye?”

  I imagine Reid shaking his head when he says, “That’s what I’m trying to find out. I’ve been working on this night and day since Faye emailed me the first one a week ago, and I won’t stop until I find whoever is behind them. I can promise you that.”

  “And why weren’t we told about any of this?” Tate asks. “Fuck, Reid. Faye’s been staying in a room on her own this whole time while some crazy motherfucker is threatening her. Jesus fucking Christ.”

  “That ends now,” I rasp, tightening my hold on Faye. “From now on, she’s staying with me. Faye won’t be going anywhere without one of us escorting her, and all four of the guys you’ve sent.”

  “I agree for the most part,” Reid interjects. “That’s exactly why I’ve sent them to you. However, this is how it’s going to go, and you’re all going to follow my instructions to the letter. Faye will be on minimal duties until whoever is responsible is apprehended. She will have one of you, two of my security team, and Mack escorting her wherever she needs to go. When you go on stage, Faye will wait in the wings with the same two security personnel and Mack until your show has finished. I understand you won’t want her out of your sight, Dante, but it’s too late to cancel the last few dates on your tour calendar.”

  “Fuck the tour,” I grate out. “If it’s about money, I’ll pay whatever it costs to reimburse the venues and the label. Faye’s safety is more important than anything else.”

  A full-body shudder racks Faye’s small frame, and I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Do not mistake the kind of man I am, Dante,” Reid barks angrily. “Money means nothing when it comes to the safety and well-being of my staff.”

  “I asked him not to cancel them,” Faye’s timid voice murmurs during the lull in the conversation. “None of this is Reid’s fault. I requested he keep it to himself and let the tour go on. You guys have worked so hard to get here, and I didn’t want the rants of a seemingly crazy person interfering with that.”

  “Faye,” Tate groans.

  Followed by a simultaneous, “Fatal,” from Cole and Dylan.

  Reid interrupts any further discussion by stating, “I shouldn’t have agreed, but as I’m sure you know, your manager can be very convincing when she wants to be. Regardless, it was an error on my part to ignore my instincts.”

  Ever the voice of reason, Dylan prompts, “So other than watching Faye like a hawk and having extra eyes to help on that front, what else do we need to do to ensure she’s safe?”

  “Oh, shit,” Cole gasps. “The dudes you’re sending, they aren’t just regular security guys are they?” Cole must know something we don’t, but he doesn’t share it with us. No surprise there.

  “No, they’re not,” Reid confirms.

  “You are one seriously messed up motherfucker, you know that right? When they get here, they’re going to go postal. Like worse than the big guy sitting behind me.”

  “Quite possibly,” Reid says, his voice holding a hint of humor.

  “Not possibly, Reid; definitely,” Cole shakes his head flopping back into his seat. Twisting to look at Faye, he adds, “Sorry, babe. This really does suck for you.”

  “You want to share with the rest of us?” Cole’s twin asks, arching an eyebrow at him.

  Grimacing, Cole nods. “Who do we know that are built like fucking tanks, enjoy beating the shit out of people for fun, and would protect Faye by laying down their lives for her?”

  “Oh, shit,” Dylan grunts.

  “Fucking hell,” Tate flinches.

  “You didn’t,” Faye gasps, sitting up straighter.

  “I most certainly did,” Reid confirms. “There are no more qualified men than Drake, Leo, and Carter to see to your security, Faye. Your brothers are highly trained deadly weapons in their own right, and when it comes to family, those skills intensify ten-fold.”

  “Oh, I’m well aware of that,” Faye quips wryly. “I hope you’ve got a phenomenal team of lawyers at your disposal because if my brothers find this person before the police do, they are going to need representation to get them off murder charges.”

  “Rest assured, I do, Faye.”

  “Hold on. You said you’re sending four men, who’s the fourth? It can’t be Fatal’s dad because if he knew about this shit, he’d be here already,” Dylan questions.

  “The head of my security team, Ryker Dixon,” Reid returns. “I contracted his services plenty of times when Thunder Records was just starting out. He’s good at what he does. Excellent, actually.”

  All eyes turn to study Cole on hearing Ryker’s name, only to see he’s gone deathly pale and looks to be seconds from passing the fuck out. Cole and Ryker have what would be referred to as a complicated history. No one knows all the details, but we’ve been friends long enough that I’ve picked up on the basics.

  Cole and Ryker met at a bar about three years ago looking for a good time with no strings attached. Essentially, Cole and Ryker struck up a conversation when they realized they were both going after the same chick, and in doing so, found common ground through their penchant for threesomes.

  That night was the first of many, and they would have continued banging women together if it weren’t for Ryker developing real feelings for Cole. Feelings that I can tell you are one hundred percent reciprocated, not that Cole said as much at the time. We’ve always known, Cole’s sexual orientation isn’t strictly limited to women, and none of us could care less. Who Cole’s attracted to doesn’t change our friendship in the slightest, at least, not in my eyes. But somehow Cole’s got it in his head that we won’t be able to accept him for who he truly is if, one day, he finally gathers up the courage to admit it.

  Dylan notices Cole’s subtle shift before the rest of us, clamping a hand on his shoulder in a show of support. “You knew there was a chance you’d run into him again one day, little brother.
Today just happens to be that day. Now, get your head in the game and focus until we sort Faye out, and then we can deal with the other elephant in the room.”

  There’s a short pause, but the silence is broken when Cole blurts out, “I’m Bi.”

  Chapter Six

  Faye

  Everyone in the car, including Reid’s disembodied voice over the phone, didn’t even blink at Cole’s admission. Personally, I’ve been aware of Cole’s interest in both men and women since we were sixteen, and I saw him checking out a few of the football player’s asses after practice one day.

  In a situation like this, it’s hard to know what the right thing to say is. Do I congratulate Cole on his equal opportunity lifestyle? Do I smile and nod? Or do I pretend as if this is a shock, that this is news to me?

  Thankfully, I don’t have to ponder on my next course of action too long because less than a minute later, Leon is pulling the Escalade up to the hotel. He instructs us to stay put until he secures the area, only coming back and opening my door when he’s satisfied it’s safe.

  We all pile out of the vehicle, and I quickly find myself surrounded by a human barricade of hard bodied men. Dylan and Cole are directly behind me, and Tate on my right, Dante on my left, his hand gripping mine tightly, and Leon leading the pack, we make our way through the service entrance and into the elevator.

  “Reid left orders that everyone is to stay in their suites until his men arrive. No hotel bar. No gym. No room service. Nobody goes anywhere, at least, for now,” Leon conveys.

  “It’s all good, dude. I’m going to catch some Z’s while we’re waiting, and I’m pretty sure by the looks of it, that Cole and Dylan, and Fatal and D have some shit they need to hash out. It’s safe to say, none of us are going anywhere for a while.”

  Dylan steps in and confirms that by saying, “Nothing to hash out, but I do want a word with my idiot brother, so if you don’t mind…” he trails off, pointedly tipping his head in the direction of the now open elevator doors.

  “Keys are in packets in your suites, along with contact info for the security team. The hotel arranged it so the doors are already unlocked. Cole and Dylan, you’re in 1602. Tatum, you and Dante were supposed to be in 1604, but I guess you get a room to yourself now. And Faye, you have 1606. It’s at the end of the hall.”

  “Thank you, Leon,” I murmur, following Tate out the doors.

  “I’ll be stationed out in the hall over there,” Leon points at a chair that’s been set up for him just outside my room. “If you need anything, call me immediately. I get that this isn’t in my job description, but I used to be a Green Beret, and I take the safety of the people under my care seriously.”

  Placing my hand on his arm, I attempt what I hope is a grateful smile. “I’m so glad you made my short list, Leon. I don’t know what we’d do without you right now.” Leon winks at me and takes up his place sitting sentry outside my door without another word.

  Dante and I don’t linger in the hall long. Instead, he drags me into the suite and slams the door, engaging the deadbolt. “You and I have a few things to discuss, gorgeous. At the top of that list is why you didn’t tell me you were getting death threats.”

  The answer to his question is a double edged sword. If I tell Dante the truth, it will piss him off even more, and if I don’t, he will only keep pushing until I do. Dante’s stubborn like that.

  Before I have a chance to make my decision, Dante grips my wrist and spins me so that my back is pinned up against the wall. The length of his hard, toned body is pressed to my front, towering over me as he looks down at me through hooded eyes.

  “Do you know what I would have felt if you were hurt, baby? Can you even begin to imagine what I would have done if one hair on your beautiful head was harmed?” Shaking his head insistently, he groans, “No. No, you don’t have the first fucking clue.”

  “Dante,” I whisper, pleading with him to stop and hear me out.

  “Shut it, baby. Just shut the fuck up and listen to me for a minute. I should have told you this a long fucking time ago. I should have manned up, set aside my fear that our friendship would suffer, and made you understand how I feel. It sucks that it’s had to come to this to get me to wake the fuck up and pull my head out of my ass, but it is what it is. I can’t change the past, but I can sure as hell change the course of our relationship in the future,” he ends on a growl.

  Grinding his hips into mine, I feel the long, thick bulge of Dante’s erection against my belly. I’ve spent so many nights envisaging us like this. Just like this. Dante hard, hot, and wanting, and me desperate for him in a way I can’t begin to put into words.

  He threads his fingers through mine, using his thumb to rub small circles on the inside of my wrists before raising them above our heads and holding them there. I realize that in this position, I am completely at Dante’s mercy. He can do and say whatever he wants, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

  Every fiber of my being is on high alert. The fine hairs on my arms stand on end, a shiver starts at the base of my spine as the intensity grows with each passing moment. Being trapped by Dante, caged in by his massive, powerful body proves what I spent countless hours trying to dissuade myself of; Dante is my ‘one.’ The man I was meant to end up with. The man who has, and forever would own my heart.

  There has always been a connection, something volatile, intangible, electric between Dante and I. At first, I was naïve and believed with time it would fade, that whatever sparks we had would disappear. I convinced myself that everything I felt was one-sided, that Dante didn’t feel the same way about me.

  Sure, I saw him pay more attention to me on occasion. There were times where I watched as his eyes widened almost imperceptibly as he took in what I was wearing or not when we went swimming together. However, as quickly as his interest flared, it was gone. Dante easily slid back into his usual charming, funny, friendly persona, and more than once I had to ask myself if I had imagined the whole thing.

  Now, not so much. Now, I know what I thought I saw wasn’t a figment of my imagination, but very real indeed. Dante is staring at me like he has found his reason for breathing, and I can’t deny the way my heart races at the mere thought of what he’s going to say next.

  Letting go of one of my hands, Dante runs his index finger gently from my temple to the hollow at the base of my throat, only stopping briefly to play with the pendant nestled there. “Thought you said you’d never wear this again. After what happened at the guest house, you tore it off and threw it at me; told me what it symbolized was broken just like your heart. I spent hours looking for it, but in the end, I had to give up.”

  The necklace Dante’s referring to is one he gave me for my thirteenth birthday, He saved for months to buy it for me, and it made me feel like a princess when he gave it to me, fastening it around my neck. Dante made me promise never to take it off, that it was a symbol of our friendship and how he felt about me, and of course, as a thirteen-year-old girl, madly in love with her best friend, I readily agreed.

  To anyone else, it isn’t anything special but to me, it was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. Truthfully, it still is. Simple, yet perfect the thin gold chain has a delicate clasp at the back, and in the middle is two shooting stars forged to one another.

  Dante said it reminded him of us. Two people who had fantastical dreams that were destined to shine. And for a time, I believed him wholeheartedly. That was until I didn’t. Until I thought the boy I put my faith and trust in had changed so much, my soul couldn’t recognize his anymore.

  It wasn’t just the fight with Cole, which is what I led everyone to believe. Although, that was certainly the catalyst for everything changing between us. But honestly, it was Dante’s ambition, determination, and desire to succeed. He was going to be one of the stars on my necklace. He was going to shine. But sadly I’d realized over the months leading up to us graduating, that he couldn’t do that with me holding him back.<
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  “What are you thinking, gorgeous?” Dante asks, breaking into a barrage of memories I never wanted to relive.

  This is it. This is the moment of truth. Do I tell Dante why our story has to end, or do I lie and selfishly take what I know he will offer me, knowing that nothing can ever come of it?

  Chapter Seven

  Dante

  “Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, baby,” I repeat myself, urging Faye to open up to me.

  The conflict in her eyes that she’s trying and failing to hide isn’t lost on me. I’ve become adept at reading every nuance of her expression from afar over the years, but up close it’s different. She’s different.

  Sorrow and regret aren't something I anticipated from her, yet looking into her stunning gold-rimmed hazel eyes, those are the most visceral of the many emotions displayed there. And that terrifies me.

  When I fantasized about telling Faye I love her, that I’ve been in love with her for as long as I can remember, I didn’t for a second imagine she’d look at me like this. In my dreams, Faye would smile, throw herself into my arms, and profess her undying love for me.

  “I’m sorry, Dante. So, so very sorry,” she whispers. While her voice may be quiet, almost timid even, the tone of her words is a bullet to my already fractured heart.

  If this is where Faye tells me she doesn’t love me, I’m going to have to take drastic measures because I refuse to let her go again. I didn’t fight for her the first time she pushed me away, Young and stupid, I foolishly thought she’d change her mind and come back to me. I was wrong then, and I’m not risking a repeat of the years I’ve lived in limbo without her.