Bride to Keep: A Dark Reverse Harem

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by Alta Hensley


  I laughed, thinking how much she reminded me of Granny G. I hugged her again and followed her nephew out the door and into his car. He didn’t ask for directions, and I assumed his aunt had told him my destination. We didn’t chat. I spent the time looking out the window, watching as we left the small town and drove through some of the most beautiful country I’d ever seen. The land these people had fought for… and I was ready to fight for my own little piece of the Emerald Isle.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Monet

  “Shall I wait?”

  “No. Thank you for the lift,” I said, shaking my head as I exited the car, pulling my suitcase out as well.

  “I wanted to say that I’m sorry about your loss.”

  I could only nod, the loss too fragile, the pain too fresh. After he gave me a nod, he pulled away, and I watched until his taillights disappeared over the hill. Turning, I walked up the steps of the porch and, without hesitating, opened the door and stepped inside. Setting my suitcase down, I walked through the parlor and down the hall. On any normal day, the men would be out of the house unless the weather was bad, but this wasn’t a normal day and I could hear voices coming from the kitchen. A few feet from the threshold, I paused, wondering if I was about to do nothing more than make a fool of myself. Cal had been pretty clear in the letter that I was to go home, that they were finished with me. With Alana gone, I was no longer bound by any agreement I’d made, forced or not. Well, I wasn’t done… not by a long shot.

  Lifting my chin, I didn’t walk, I marched right into the lion’s den, which immediately grew silent at my appearance.

  “How dare you lie to me,” I said, continuing to walk across the floor to where they were beginning to rise from chairs around the kitchen table.

  “Monet? What are you—” Cal began, but I held my hand up to silence him.

  “No! Though I never thought you’d be a chickenshit and do it by some fucking Dear Jane letter, you’ve had your say. It’s my turn, now.” Walking up to him, I poked my finger into his chest. “You lied to me. You all did,” I said, making eye contact with each one of the brothers. “Every one of you told me you didn’t consider me a slut… a whore. That I’d become more than just a companion to Alana—”

  “You are. We never considered you as anything other than—” Rogan cut in, silencing when I waved my hand in the air again, this time with the letter clutched in my fingers.

  “Telling me to go home, to forget any of this happened? How in the hell am I supposed to do that? There is nothing for me back there—”

  “We told you in the letter that we’d pay for whatever home—” Nolan began only to find my finger poking his chest.

  “I don’t want a fucking house,” I shouted, “I don’t want a store or a car or a fucking bank account. Don’t you know all I want is you? All of you? You’re my family!” I had to pause, take a breath, fight against my throat closing up, to fight against the tears that threatened.

  “Monet, we don’t deserve you,” Cal said. “No matter how much Alana liked you, we had no right to kidnap you, to bring you to Ireland, to force you into all of this.”

  “This isn’t about what is right,” I said. “Hell, nothing about what happened is right. This is about what started happening that first day I walked out of that basement. It is about all the days between the moment you took me from my home—my past—to bring me here, to start my future. A new life. A better life—”

  Derrick shoved his chair back so hard it banged into the wall. “That’s just it! There is no better life. Fuck! We couldn’t even keep our baby sister alive! You almost died in the barn!”

  “But I didn’t die!” I shouted back. “Yes, we lost Alana. But that wasn’t your fault, or yours, Rogan, or yours, Nolan, and not even yours, Cal. You aren’t gods, you are men. You couldn’t know Dallas would show up that day. You were doing all you could to keep her safe, to keep all of us safe. And, yes, it’s horrible, it hurts like hell, but she’s gone and we will always miss her. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you keep me from fulfilling the promise I made to a woman I considered my sister, too!”

  “Monet…” Nolan said, but I just shook my head.

  “I-I love you. I love you all so much. Please… Oh God, please don’t send me away. Please let me stay. Even if-if you don’t love me back, please let me love you.” I had no idea I was sobbing, shaking, until I was suddenly surrounded by the brothers. Arms wrapped around me to hold me up, to press me to Cal’s chest, hands stroking down my arms, my back, through my hair, as each of them attempted to soothe me.

  “We didn’t mean to hurt you, Monet,” Cal said, bending to place a kiss on top of my head.

  “We just wanted to set you free,” Nolan said from my right, kissing my cheek.

  “To let you know how sorry we were for scaring you,” Derrick said from behind me, before he bent forward to brush my hair aside to press a kiss to the nape of my neck.

  “Alana was right,” Rogan said from my left. “You are a very special woman.” He kissed my left cheek.

  “She’d have been so mad at us if she’d known what we did,” Cal offered. “She never would have agreed to any of this. But… well, she really liked you and… after that day we all met you in your store and that time in my truck… well, we decided we wanted you.”

  “You did?” I asked, a little baffled. “Then why didn’t you just tell me instead of kidnapping me?”

  Derrick answered for them all. “Because you’d be a fool to agree to be with us. We aren’t good men.”

  “You’re wrong,” I said. “You might have done things outside the law, but that doesn’t make you bad men. Alana knew that. I not only liked her, I loved her. She was a special young woman and a wonderful friend.” It was my turn to pause, tears threatening to spill yet again. But these men needed to know, needed to hear. Clearing my throat, I looked at each one of them. “She loved you so very, very much. God, she was so proud of each of you. She knew you weren’t perfect, but it didn’t matter. You were her whole life.”

  “It should have been us, not her,” Derrick said, the man who was normally so cocky, so confident sounding so forlorn.

  I turned to face him. “But that just proves how very much she loved you all,” I said, reaching up to place my palm against his cheek before turning to look at Cal. “You were willing to give your life for her, but she chose to give hers for yours.” I could see the pain in his eyes and placed my hand over his heart while looking at each of them again. “And while you couldn’t save her, you avenged her. You avenged your parents. All she wanted was for you to find the happiness you’d given her for her entire life. If you truly wish to honor her, to make her sacrifice mean something, then truly start over, put the past behind you, and build a new life.”

  “Tell me again why you are so adamant about this,” Cal said the next day as he turned off the ignition, turning to look at me.

  “We’ve gone over this a dozen times,” I said, a bit exasperated that it was necessary to go over it yet again. “Because it is the right thing to do. You cannot arrange a service over the telephone.”

  “I—none of us have set foot in a church since we were kids,” Rogan said from his seat on my other side.

  I shook my head. “Maybe none of you have, but Alana went whenever she could. She found the rituals, the quiet calming,” I said, passing along a piece of information their sister had shared with me, and deciding to add a bit of my own. “I’m sure she lit a few candles for each of you, so the least you can do is get out of the truck, go inside, and talk to the priest.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Derrick said from the backseat. “What are we supposed to tell him? ‘Excuse me, Father, no confession will clear my soul. I’m beyond absolution but Alana was pure… an angel. So maybe you can see fit to allow us to hold her service here?’ ”

  “That’s perfect, Derrick,” I said. “And, just so you know, no one is ever beyond God’s absolution, but since I’m a mere mortal, a sinn
er, if the four of you don’t get out of this truck right now, it might be a very long time before I forgive you.”

  They climbed from the truck, Rogan lifting me down. We walked into the beautiful church. It was clearly old, the stones chiseled by hand, the wooden pews crafted of dark wood, gleaming with oil and worn smooth by generations of worshippers. A man walked toward us, and I smiled. He reminded me of Gramps, Gigi’s husband. His hair was silver, his eyes blue, and his smile kind.

  “Welcome,” he said, extending his hand. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen you boys. I’m just sorry it has to be under such sad circumstances.”

  The brothers might have been reluctant, but I’d known how very much they’d needed to do this. I had no doubt the church would never have refused to hold a service for Alana, but having them here, in a place where they could speak to a man of the cloth, to remember that God did not judge, was the first step to heal the deep wound, the hurt they all were feeling. Each of them visibly began to relax after shaking Father O’Leary’s hand. The priest took us into his office where we began the sad duty of planning Alana’s funeral.

  “Thank you,” Cal said as we returned to the truck an hour later.

  I stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I know how difficult this is, for all of you,” I said, turning to include my other three men.

  “You are making it easier,” Nolan said, his brothers nodding in agreement.

  Two days later, we were back at the church. The sun was streaming through the stained glass windows lining both side walls of the church as well as the large round window high above the altar. Bands of color fell over the white coffin, painting the hundreds of white lilacs soft yellows, blues, greens, purples, and rose. The scent of flowers hung in the air from the dozens of arrangements lining the front of the church and every pew was full. The entire town had turned out to say their last farewell to one of their own.

  My fingers twisted together, my heart aching in my chest, but I was determined to show a brave face, to support Cal as he stood up from the pew where we were all seated. He was the patriarch of the family. Had faced difficult situations, made hard decisions, but I knew that right now, he was facing the toughest moment of his life. The church was silent, the sorrow palpable as he walked up the steps and turned to face the mourners. The pain was etched into his very being, his face drawn, his eyes haunted, the aching loss of his baby sister visible to all. After a moment, he unfolded a piece of paper, placing it on the lectern before him. But when he began to speak, his eyes weren’t focused on the words he’d written. They were looking at the coffin, each word spoken not to those seated in the church, but to the young woman who lay on a bed of white satin.

  “From the moment you were born, Alana, you were our… our angel. Even when we brought ugliness into our home, you chose not to focus on it. You chose to believe people are kind… good to one another. I never heard you say a single harsh word about anyone. I watched you grow up, so full of joy, your smile so beautiful, your happiness so pure. When we lost our parents, we saw your heart break and yet, again, you chose to find the joy in knowing they hadn’t left us for good… that they are simply waiting until we’re together again. I-I’ve done nothing in my life to deserve the love you gave me… the life you sacrificed for me. I will never be able to… to forgive myself.” His voice broke and his eyes closed, his knuckles white where they clutched the edge of the lectern.

  As one, his brothers stood and went to him, touching him, offering him their support. Rogan didn’t even glance at the paper. His gaze swept the church, his voice strong and sure.

  “Alana was not only our sister. She was the very best of us. Any goodness in our lives existed because of her. Alana was the very light to our darkness. Cal is right… we didn’t deserve her… but, God, we thank you for blessing us with the kindest, most loving sister we could ever have. We loved her with all of our hearts.” He paused and turned to Cal, lifting his hand to his older brother’s shoulder. “You know what Alana would say. There is nothing for you to forgive. She loved you… loved us, and all we can do is promise we will never forget her and try to earn the unconditional love she gave us every day she was with us.”

  Silent tears slid down my cheeks as I listened to them. It was the most heartbreaking eulogy I’d ever witnessed and yet so heartwarming at the same time. Their love shone through every word they spoke.

  Watching her brothers, all dressed in black suits, carry the casket down the aisle was hard and yet I knew though many had volunteered, they’d insisted on being the ones to do so. Each one wishing to honor the young woman they loved so much and who had died far too young. The ride to the cemetery was quiet, the five of us sharing the limo that drove behind the hearse. Once at the cemetery, I stood with my family, my eyes closing, not in an attempt to stop the tears as they were from my heart, but to allow the music to wash over me as the bagpipes played and a young woman sang Amazing Grace. I’d never heard anything so heartrending… so sad and yet so beautiful and it touched my soul. I opened my eyes as the last note wafted to the heavens and finally was able to give a soft smile, imagining Alana among the angels, looking down on us.

  As we each stepped forward to place a rose on top of the casket, I laid my palm on the glossy surface and knew that though she was gone, she’d never really leave us. Our love for her would assure she’d always be with us.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Monet – Ten Months Later

  I lifted my face to the sun, the warmth and the breeze washing over me. The sky was robin’s egg blue, the sound of the sea providing a soothing, rhythmic sound in the background. I couldn’t imagine a more beautiful spot for a final resting place. Turning, I smiled, watching my men walking toward me. They were no longer just my family. They were now my husbands. Law dictated I marry only one, so while Father O’Leary had signed a marriage license with only my and Cal’s name on it, my heart had Rogan’s, Nolan’s, and Derrick’s names inscribed on it as well.

  I would never forget the day they’d first said they loved me. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t felt their love in their touch, their looks, their contentment, but they’d never said the actual words.

  One day, they’d asked me to accompany them on a walk, something we often enjoyed. It was edging toward dusk as we walked up and over a small grassy hill. I squinted to block out the sunlight, cocking my head as I tried to make out what it was I was seeing. What I saw had my mouth dropping open. Five perfectly aligned rows spread out before me. Young trees stood tall in vividly colored pots. The movement I had seen was from the white ribbons wrapped around each small trunk.

  I stared at the trees with bewilderment and awe before turning to find my men staring at me. “They are simply beautiful.”

  Cal took a deep breath, pointing to the row on the left. “Those are lemon trees. Alana told us you loved fresh lemons.”

  “And we used the ribbon because you told me you like white,” Rogan said. “Alana told us you also love bright colors so we had them planted into pots.”

  I felt my heart clutch as I remembered her pleasure that day we’d shared lunch in my apartment. “You planted this orchard for me?” I asked. “You did this for-for me?”

  Nolan said, “In addition to the lemon trees, we picked a variety of fruit trees as well. You’ll have apples, plums, and pears, and I’ll help you with whatever you need to encourage them to grow.”

  “What he means is that he’ll help eat everything you make with the fruit,” Derrick said, earning himself a punch from his brother. Derrick grinned and said, “As for me, I’m buying you some goats.”

  The change of topic was a bit startling, but I said, “That’s lovely, but perhaps we need to wait until the trees are a bit taller. I’d hate for the goats to eat all the fruit before our first harvest.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not for the orchard, but because Rogan said you love cheese and you can use their milk to make goat cheese. I plan on setting everything
up so you can make it from scratch.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, going up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” I said, moving toward Cal to give him a kiss as well, when he shook his head.

  “Wait, I mean… well—” Instead of continuing, he grabbed one hand, Nolan my other, and they led me down the hill, Derrick and Rogan following. They didn’t stop until we were standing in the middle of the orchard. They released my hands, and my heart stopped as all four of them dropped to one knee, each pulling a small box from his pocket.

  As one, they chorused, “We love you, Monet.”

  Rogan said, “Ever since you moved here with us, we have felt complete.”

  “You’ve changed and improved every one of our lives,” Nolan added.

  “You have given us something we didn’t even know was missing,” Derrick said.

  Cal smiled as he added, “You’ve given us love.”

  “Make us the happiest men on earth. Say you’ll marry us,” they said in perfect unison.

  It was more than I’d ever dared dream. I didn’t have to choose. I could have all of them.

  “Yes, yes, yes, and yes!” I said, looking at each man as I answered them in turn. The boxes contained slim bands. Gold, sterling, platinum, and a rose gold. One by one, they stood and came to me, slipping the rings on my finger, one atop the other, all separate and yet forming one band. I’d kissed each brother as he repeated that he loved me.

  Life had taken so much from them, but I’d done my best to keep my promise. I didn’t allow a day to go by that I didn’t tell them how much I loved them. How special they were to me. How proud I was of the way they were changing their lives. They’d done a wonderful job with the farm, repairing all that could be fixed and building whatever they decided I needed to keep me happy. I’d protested they were working too hard until the night Nolan unrolled a large drawing, all the brothers holding down a corner.

 

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