by Lila Dubois
Fourteen hours later, Lance landed at SFO. He took the train, not to Preston’s house, which still had some press hanging around, but to Silicon Valley and Carly’s apartment. While she called it an apartment, it was in an upscale building with enough security that she hadn’t been bothered by anyone. Lance checked the email Preston had sent him with the key code and let himself up.
He hadn’t talked to Carly since she’d gotten out of the hospital. He’d tried calling her at least a dozen times, but she hadn’t answered. Not once. It was her silence that was tearing him apart, keeping him up at night. He needed to see her face, hear her voice. He needed to know she was safe.
Lance knocked on number eleven, Carly’s door.
There was no reply. He waited a minute and then knocked again.
Finally, Carly answered. She leaned against the door. She didn’t smile when she saw him standing there. “Hey.” That was her only greeting before she turned and walked away.
Lance frowned, following her as he closed the door. She was wearing purple sweatpants that rode low on her hips, a sports bra and a loose tank top with a hole in it. Fancy headphones dangled around her neck. She returned to the couch. She dropped down, tucking one foot under her and propped the other on the coffee table. He could see the outline of the brace she wore on that knee. There was a bandage on her cheek and the side of her face was still slightly swollen.
“Carly?”
She pulled a wireless keyboard onto her lap, flipped her headphones up and ignored him. Onscreen, a character walked through a virtual forest.
“Carly.” He set his bag down and took a seat next to her on the couch. He touched her arm.
She jerked away from him, never taking her eyes from the screen. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Lance pulled out his phone and sent Preston a text.
I’m here. Don’t know what to do.
Lance wanted to grab her, shake her, kiss her until she said something. A crisis counselor at the hospital had talked to Preston and explained some of the things Carly might go through. Preston told Lance she had an appointment with a counselor.
Though Preston had passed all that information on to him, Lance wasn’t sure of what to say that wouldn’t make things worse.
He was no doctor, but after what she’d been through, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had PTSD or something like it. He knew plenty of men who hadn’t been able to function after coming through a firefight or seeing a roadside bomb explode. They couldn’t get away from the fear, from the stress. Maybe that was what Carly was going through. All he knew for sure was he hated seeing her afraid and it killed him not to be able to touch her, to hold her.
So, instead, he simply sat with her, let her disappear into her game while he tried to figure out what to do next.
Twenty minutes later, Preston walked in with a bag of food under one arm. He set it in the kitchen, and then took a seat on the other side of Carly. After a few minutes, she pulled off her headphones.
The silence was both awkward and tense. It felt as if they were back to being strangers, as if they hadn’t spent a beautiful night together, gone through a hellish crisis together.
“What do you want?” Carly’s voice was low, gruff.
Though Preston had asked him to come back to help, Lance looked to him to lead this conversation.
Preston leaned forward. “Right now, we want you to talk to us.”
“About what?” Her voice was suddenly hot with anger.
“Why are you being like this?” Lance asked, frustrated. “I thought we were okay.”
“You’re one to talk,” she shot back.
Preston raised his hand. “Carly, Lance, this isn’t help—”
“Oh, that’s right, Lance. We have to listen to the expert. Please, Preston, tell us how the rest of our life is going to go, tell us how we’re all going to be so much happier because there are three of us. Tell me again, and make me believe it, because—” Her voice caught. Tears streamed down her face. “I’ve been alone and scared and you weren’t here.”
Lance’s heart clenched. “Carly, I—”
“No.” She took a breath, held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear it, from either of you. I get it. The fallout has been bad. I know that. I’ve spent plenty of time on the phone with my people, the police and the media.”
She rose slowly. “I’ll be fine. I’ve spent most of my adult life alone. I just need some space.” She walked away, limping on her bad leg. “I’m going back to bed.”
When she was gone, Lance looked at Preston.
“Fuck,” the other man whispered.
“I shouldn’t have gone back to DARPA.”
“I should have been here more. I mean I was physically here, but I was trying to give her time to heal. I should have done more.”
They gave her a few minutes before they rose and followed her to the bedroom. They found her lying on her bed, curled on her side, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Lance’s heart shattered at the image of his powerful lady, so broken and frightened. He lay down in her front of her while Preston cuddled her from behind.
“Carly.” Lance reached out to touch her, but he didn’t want to hurt her. “I’m sorry.” He kissed a bruise-free spot on her upper arm. “I shouldn’t have left you.”
“You had to work,” she whispered.
“I don’t give a fuck about work. I thought I was protecting us, the three of us, and what we are. If I’d known you were so sad and hurt, I never would have gone.” Lance shook his head. “I should have known what you needed. It’s just that, well, I’m not good at this. I’m not good at people in general, but I’m especially not good at relationships. I never bothered to learn.”
She looked up. “Why not?”
“For me, being a member of the Trinity Masters meant I didn’t have to try. It was an excuse to avoid something I didn’t want to do.”
“You didn’t want a relationship?” she asked.
Lance shook his head. “I did want one. I don’t want to be completely alone, but relationships are confusing. I couldn’t figure out the rules, so I thought I’d avoid the whole thing until the Grand Master called me to the altar. I mean…you two are stuck with me. You have to accept that I’m sort of fucked up and weird.”
She laughed softly, then shook her head. “There aren’t rules you can learn. You have to decide what your relationship is, like we did the other night. Then the rest of it is just wrapped around patience and respect and compromise and—” Her voice wavered when she added, “love.”
Lance touched her chin so she’d look at him, hoping he’d be able to explain. “When you were released from the hospital and we brought you home, they said you needed to rest. I didn’t know if I should go or if I should stay. I left because I thought I was protecting you and because I was afraid that in my ignorance I’d do or say something wrong when you were already so fucking hurt.”
His gaze searched hers, desperate for her to see the truth. If he couldn’t say it right, maybe she’d be able to read it in his face. “I thought about you every second I was away.”
Her lips trembled and a well of feeling rose up in him. Lance frowned, struggling to put his feelings into words. “God. I’ve never said this before. I didn’t know…”
“Say it,” Carly whispered.
He gently cupped her face. “I love you.”
Both Preston and Carly went still.
“I love you,” he repeated. “I let you down. I left when I should have stayed and I’m sorry.”
“You love me?”
“Yes.” He kissed the spot on her shoulder again. “I love you.” He looked up, met Preston’s gaze. “Both of you.”
Carly rolled over to look at Preston.
“I’m sorry you felt alone,” he said to Carly. “I thought dealing with the media was helping, but Lance is right. I don’t know what a normal relationship is either, so I didn’t handle this well. Every time I think about what they did to you, how hurt and scared you were when we found you
, I wanted to rip someone apart. I didn’t want you to see that, didn’t want to remind you of it.”
Lance nodded in agreement. At least he’d had the satisfaction of choking the pond scum who’d kidnapped her. Preston hadn’t.
“I don’t want to think about it either, but I can’t stop.” She took a shaky breath. “I was so alone…so powerless. I hate that feeling, and I hate that I want you both with me.” She wiped away tears. “I’m not that girl, the girl who needs her boyfriend with her all the time, the one who expects him to fight her battles.”
Preston grasped her hand. “We know that, Carly. God, you’re not weak.”
“I didn’t ask you to stay or hold me because I didn’t want to need you. I think I must suck at this relationship thing. I’ve been on my own for so long, I’ve forgotten how to reach out, how to rely on someone else.”
Preston smiled. “Needing someone doesn’t make you weak. You’re brave and smart and beautiful.”
“And you shouldn’t be ashamed of being afraid,” Lance added. “You have every right to be. But know this.” He pressed his hand over her heart. “I would defend you with my dying breath.”
She made a little hiccup noise and reached for Lance. He took her carefully in his arms. She lay on his chest, crying quietly. Preston bent and kissed her back and shoulders, laying his hand over Lance’s on her hip. After a few minutes, her breathing evened out. Lance’s own eyelids were heavy. He hadn’t slept a wink since leaving them two days ago. He gave into the need, closing them, telling himself he would only sleep a few minutes.
*****
Preston rose and stared at his sleeping partners—Carly, so wounded and broken, Lance holding her protectively.
A wave of emotion crashed over him. Lance said he loved them, both of them, and Preston knew exactly how he felt.
This was so much harder than he’d ever imagined and what he felt for them was so much more than he could have ever dreamed. They’d known each other only a few days before they’d faced a crisis traumatic enough to break any relationship, let alone a new one. Carly had been right when she called him out for acting like a pompous ass. The truth was, whatever he knew about his parents’ relationship meant nothing. He and Lance and Carly were their own people, their own trinity, and they’d have to find a way to make it work, together.
Carly shifted slightly in her sleep, grimacing a little. Preston stripped down to his pants and went in search of her bathroom.
She might be renting, but her apartment was far nicer than his condo. The bathroom was massive with a raised jet tub and separate shower. He filled the tub, dumping some nice smelling bath gel into the swirling water. When the tub was ready, he took the pill bottles from the counter and a glass of water to the bed.
“Carly, baby, wake up.”
Her face was creased in pain as she rolled away from Lance.
“When did you last take a pill?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Here, take one now.”
When that was done, Preston helped her stand. He stripped her clothes off, easing her pants over the brace.
“How does your knee feel?”
She winced. “It hurts a little.”
“What’s going on?” Lance rubbed a hand over his face.
“We’re giving Carly a bath.”
“Okay.” Without question, Lance rolled out of bed.
Preston knelt and undid the Velcro straps of the brace, and Lance picked her up, carrying her into the bathroom. Preston stripped off his pants and climbed in first as Lance handed her to him. She moaned when she was lowered into the warm water.
Preston cradled her between his legs, her back against his chest. She made a soft little noise and Lance looked alarmed.
“She’s crying again. You’re hurting her.” He started to reach for her, ready to pull her out of the bath.
“No. He’s not hurting me. I’m crying because I’m happy.”
Lance sat down on the bathroom floor. “Crying because she’s happy. I’m never gonna get this.”
Carly started to laugh, the sound bright and joyous. Preston’s lips twitched and soon he was laughing, too.
“That felt good, Lance,” Carly said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But I don’t know what I did.”
“You made me laugh. I was starting to wonder if I’d ever remember how.”
Preston kissed the top of her head. “Lance, can you hand me her shampoo?”
“It’s in the shower,” Carly added.
Lance came back with an armful of stuff. “I brought it all, just in case.”
As Carly giggled, Preston eased her forward so he could tip her head back, dunking it in the water without getting her injured face wet.
“How does it feel?” Lance asked, pointing at her cheek.
“It just a little sore.” Carly was silent as Preston massaged her hair. “It’s going to scar.” She dipped her head back so Preston could rinse out the shampoo.
“I know,” Preston murmured.
Lance gently ran his fingers along her uninjured cheek. “And we don’t care. It doesn’t change who you are.”
“I care,” she whispered. “I’ll have to think about it every time I look in the mirror.”
“Then we’ll find someone who can get rid of the scar.” Lance stripped off his shirt so he could reach into the water and touch her.
Preston placed a light kiss on the top of her head. “And we’ll make new memories, so the scar won’t remind you of what they did to you.”
“He…he hurt me.”
Preston hugged her. “I know he did. I’m so sorry.”
“I couldn’t stop him. I wanted to. I tried, but I couldn’t.” She reached out, taking Lance’s hand as Preston held her. “If they hadn’t heard who I was and figured out they could hold me for ransom, they would have killed me. I thought they were going to.”
Preston hugged her tighter, terrified of how close they’d come to losing her. “I don’t know what we would have done if we’d lost you.”
“I should have ripped that fucker’s head right off his shoulders.” Lance’s eyes were narrowed. “I have a friend who could get me into the prison…I might still be able to kill him.”
Carly tugged on his hand and there was a definite spark of amusement in her voice. “Lance, please don’t murder anyone.”
“You mean in general, or that guy in particular?”
Carly looked up at Preston, then back at Lance. All of a sudden, she let out a loud laugh.
“It’s like I married Rambo. I’m going to make you interview with the story department. Some of the things you say would make killer dialogue.”
When Carly tried to get rid of them so she could shave her legs, Lance insisted on doing it. He sat on the floor and read the instructions on the back of the shaving cream can, then watched an online video, before lifting her legs out of the water one at a time.
They stayed in the bathroom, laughing and talking, enjoying each other’s company.
Preston messaged her shoulders. “Carly?”
“Yes?”
“Promise me—us—something.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t shut us out again. We’re here for you, but we can’t help if you don’t let us in.”
She nodded. “I understand that. Now.”
Preston ran a soapy cloth over her body. When his hand passed over her lower belly, just above her sex, she shifted.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be.” She bit her lip, then put her hand over his and pushed it between her legs. “I want your hands on me, both of you.”
Preston rubbed her sex gently with the washcloth. “How does that feel?”
“Good.”
Lance’s hand brushed against Preston’s under the water as he rubbed her inner thighs. “Is this too soon?”
“No. I want to feel something, think about something, other than being naked and scared.”
�
��Fine. But not here.” Lance rose and helped her out of the tub. He wrapped her in a towel and Preston climbed out too. Together, they dried her off. It was the first time they’d gotten to examine every bruise, and as if by mutual consent, they went over every inch of her skin, brushing their lips over each hurt.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” Preston asked.
Carly nodded. “Yes.”
Lance lifted her and carried her into the bedroom.
*****
Carly drew in a breath as Preston pulled back the sheets on her bed. Lance laid her down in the middle. Her bed was a tight fit for three. It was only a double, while Preston’s had been a king.
That didn’t seem to matter as they settled on either side of her. Preston eased the brace back onto her knee, strapping it in place. Tears prickled her eyes at his kind consideration. She was touched he would think to do that.
She’d known them less than two weeks, and yet these past few days without them had made her feel like she was missing pieces of her soul. Now that they were back and touching her, the bad memories faded, losing their power.
“What do you want?” Lance’s hand was on her belly. “I don’t want to hurt or scare you.”
“As long as you don’t hold my arms behind my back.” She wanted to be honest about her fears so nothing happened to make her freak out and ruin the moment. “You’ve both done it before, and after this, I just don’t think I could stand it.”
“We never will.” Preston touched her cheek. “If you want, we’ll have vanilla sex from now on.” He paused. “Well, as vanilla as a ménage a trois can be.”
“I’m not saying that.” The nights they’d spent together had been the most erotic of her life and she wanted that again. “Just…be gentle with me. For now.”
“I can do gentle,” Lance said.
They both looked at him.
His eyes widened. “What? I can.”
“Want me to tie him up?” Preston teased.
Carly tipped her head to the side and pretended to consider. “Hmmm.”
“Damn it. Am I always going to be the one tied to the chair?”
“No,” Carly said as Preston added, “Probably,” at the same time.
Lance growled, then leaned down and kissed Carly’s shoulder, his lips moving along her throat to her breast. In an instant, they went from playful to sexual. The warmth caused by the pleasure of their company heated her blood, becoming a fire of longing in her belly.
