End Game

by Samantha Wayland

  They chatted about work, but Savannah kept her answers vague. She was struggling with a few things at the office, but she didn’t want to get into them with Lachlan. He would be happy to listen, she was sure, but she wanted to relax. A few beers, some dinner, and then shutting herself into her apartment sounded like the perfect way to end this day.

  Provided Rhian would shut himself in with her.

  She wasn’t sure how to convince him to come to her place tonight. He’d stayed with her Sunday, after they returned from Connecticut, but last night he’d insisted on going back to his ugly little apartment. She’d tossed and turned all night.

  She jumped when Rhian slid up to the table beside her. Her brother watched her curiously.

  Way too perceptive.

  Rhian handed out their drinks and she took the excuse to look away from Lachlan’s penetrating stare. And Garrick claimed she could see through people?

  Rhian and Lachlan fell into an easy conversation, and she listened idly. She was unaccountably aware that they had the entire table to themselves, but Rhian chose to stand next to her, their shoulders brushing.

  Lachlan laughed at something Rhian said and the woman standing to his right smiled up at him. Lachlan caught her eye and the laughter died.

  Uh oh.

  His admirer’s smile brightened. “Hi,” she said loudly enough to be heard over the din of the crowd.

  Lachlan was locked up tight, frozen where he stood. He swallowed hard before managing a weak, “Hello.”

  “I’m Sarah.” She turned to face him fully, her back to the pack of girlfriends watching with wide grins.

  Lachlan’s eyes flickered to their shining faces and his cheeks turned a dull red.

  “Lachlan.”

  “What’s that?” Sarah asked.

  “Uhh…Lachlan. My name is Lachlan. L-A-C-H-L-A-N. It’s Scottish for land of lakes.” Her brother’s blush deepened with every word.

  Sarah’s confident expression faded, replaced by mild confusion. She was a beautiful woman. She was probably used to at least a slightly warmer response from any man she chose to flirt with.

  Rhian cocked his head while he watched the scene unfold. “What the hell is wrong with him?” he asked in a low voice only Savannah could hear.

  She sighed. “Lachlan is really shy.”

  Rhian looked at her. “Really?”

  “When it comes to women, morbidly so.”

  Lachlan stammered through a painfully long and wooden-voiced answer to Sarah’s question about where he was from. By the time he was done telling her about Harvard, Connecticut, their parents, Scotland and god-only-knew what else, Sarah’s eyes were glazing over and Lachlan was an alarming shade of scarlet.

  “When he’s nervous, he either turns into the babbling professor or goes mute,” Savannah muttered.

  As if to prove her point, Lachlan tried to answer another question, but no sound came out. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he coughed to clear his throat.

  Rhian grimaced. “God, it’s awful. I can’t watch.”

  “She’ll be gone soon,” Savannah predicted morosely.

  She was startled when Rhian grabbed her arm and dragged her around the table. He muttered, “We have to save him,” then smiled at Sarah and raised his voice to be heard. “Hi. I’m Rhian. This is Savannah.”

  He threw his arm around Savannah’s shoulders, and she tucked herself into his side. She prayed to god no one from the Bruins saw them, but there was no point interfering if Sarah turned her sights on Rhian instead. At least, that was what Savannah told herself as she curled an arm around his ribs and cuddled closer.

  Sarah introduced herself and Rhian took subtle control of the conversation, careful to include Lachlan, prompting his response where needed. Her brother’s color slowly returned to almost normal as he engaged in the conversation more and more. Rhian barely had to nudge him under the table to get him to talk.

  Savannah contributed where she could, far more entertained with watching the show than the actual conversation. Lachlan’s shoulders slowly dropped, and, at one point, with some help from Rhian, he actually managed to be outright charming.

  Rhian was hard to resist on a normal day. Now he was being sweet. And protective. Sides of him she’d never seen.

  Sarah took out her card and wrote her cell phone number on the back. Rhian’s arm tightened around Savannah and she squeezed him back, a silent victory celebration. Lachlan looked positively stunned and Savannah buried her face against Rhian’s shoulder to muffle her laughter.

  Sarah and her friends departed, leaving Lachlan to smile sheepishly at Rhian. Any one of her brothers would have taken the opportunity to give Lachlan a ton of shit, but Rhian just clapped a hand on Lachlan’s shoulder and grinned.

  For that alone she loved him.

  Goddamn Garrick. He hadn’t warned her how fucking scary it would be. He was going to flip when she told him she loved Rhian, too, and she had no idea what he’d think of the plans she was hatching.

  Goddamn Grace. And Mark. And Philip. They hadn’t warned her, either.

  Rhian caught her eye and her heart did a little jig in her chest. Getting Garrick on board would be a walk in the park compared to convincing Rhian to take a chance on her. On them. That was going to be a Mount Everest climb.

  Rhian lifted his glass. “To Sarah.”

  Lachlan turned pink.

  Savannah laughed. “Yes, to Sarah.”

  She watched Rhian over the rim of her glass, enjoying the way his eyes danced as Lachlan muttered his thanks. Her brother still had the little white card clutched in his hand.

  Rhian’s head snapped to the side and he took a quick step toward the windows. His glass hit the table with a loud crack.

  “Fuck! There she is again!”

  Rhian could hardly believe his eyes. Whoever she was, she was fucking persistent.

  And he’d had enough of the mystery.

  Shoving past the next table, he jammed the bar on the emergency exit door and flew out into the street.

  The girl, the one that had been following him around Boston for days, froze, her eyes going wide. He was almost close enough to grab her when she spun and bolted down the street toward Haymarket. He pelted full speed after her.

  “Rhian! Wait!” Savannah cried from behind him.

  He didn’t slow, gaining on his little stalker. He’d be damned if she got away from him. He wanted answers, and he didn’t want or need Chance and the rest of the Morrison clan to get embroiled in his stupid shit. He would address the problem himself.

  Right now.

  She took a right onto Hanover Street. Rhian ran faster, aware Savannah and Lachlan chased him. At least, he hoped it was them and not the police.

  He made the turn just as the girl reached the next intersection. An arm appeared out of nowhere and yanked her around the corner so fast her head snapped back. She screamed and disappeared.

  Rhian’s heart skipped a beat. It was idiocy for him to fly around the corner without any idea of what waited for him, but he did it anyway.

  And stopped cold.

  In the middle of the deserted Haymarket square, a big, hauntingly familiar man held the struggling girl. She clawed at his arm, demanding that he let her go, but he ignored her. All he did was stare at Rhian with absolute hatred.

  Rhian was thrown back almost twenty years.

  The man hadn’t aged a day. He sneered at Rhian. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the hell away from her, Savage.”

  The voice was the same, too.

  Jimmy.

  Chapter Twenty

  Savannah watched with horror as a huge, ugly man dragged the girl down the street. She would have demanded he release her, but it was obvious they knew one another by their bickering. If they’d looked even a little alike, she would have been certain they were siblings.

  God, Rhian’s siblings?

  He’d known Rhian’s name. She turned to ask who that man was, but the questions
died on her lips.

  She grabbed Lachlan’s wrist when he reached out to touch Rhian’s shoulder.

  “Rhian?” she said gently.

  He spun as if she’d shouted his name, staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes. There wasn’t a hint of color left in his face.

  “Holy shit,” Lachlan whispered.

  Rhian didn’t take his gaze off her. She hoped that was a good sign. Garrick had told her Rhian had flipped out once. It had shaken Garrick to the core. She supposed it hadn’t been a good time for Rhian either.

  “Honey, it’s okay. Let’s just go home.”

  He took a quick step away and she barely checked the urge to leap forward and grab him.

  “I’m fine,” Rhian said tersely.

  He so obviously wasn’t. She eased closer. When she was within arm’s reach, she put out her hand. “Come on, let’s go—” Home. No, he didn’t have one of those. Yet. She didn’t want any confusion about where they were headed. “Let’s go to my apartment, okay?”

  Rhian grabbed her hand in a tight grip.

  Now what? She didn’t dare try to walk Rhian across the city. “Lachlan, we need a cab.”

  “The Millennium Hotel is around the corner.” Lachlan said softly. “I’ll go arrange one.”

  She nodded. “We’ll be right behind you.”

  He gave them a wide berth, then broke into a run.

  They followed more slowly and found Lachlan standing by a taxi, the door open. She climbed into the back seat without hesitation, towing Rhian in her wake. He sat stiffly, not even looking at Lachlan when he eased in behind them and closed the door.

  As soon as the car pulled from the curb, Rhian folded his hands in his lap and stared out the windshield. He was doing his damndest to appear calm, she could tell, but tension radiated off him in waves. She looked down to see him wipe shaking hands down his pant legs.

  She grabbed his hands in both of hers.

  “I’m fine,” he snapped, trying to pull his hands away.

  Another lie. She didn’t let go.

  When she started to slide across the seat and into the door, she realized her brother was taking up far more of the narrow seat than needed. She braced her feet and pushed back, smashing Rhian between them.

  Rhian looked at her, then Lachlan, with obvious consternation, but didn’t argue. He didn’t relax, either, but his hands turned to grip hers and they no longer shook.

  Lachlan started speaking, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the engine and the pavement beneath their tires. She rubbed Rhian’s hands, trying to warm them. Him. When they stopped at a red light, she realized Lachlan was cheerfully reciting his introduction to epistemology lecture, of all things. He’d once admitted it was more effective than Valium for putting underclassmen to sleep. And while Rhian wasn’t out cold yet, he was looking at Lachlan like he was slightly mad, which was a significant improvement over the pale-faced shock from just a few minutes before.

  They swerved to a stop in front of her building and she jumped out to pay the driver while Lachlan steered Rhian inside. She caught up with them on the first landing and together they nudged Rhian up the remaining flights of stairs and into her apartment.

  Without stopping, she grabbed her iPad from the kitchen counter and towed Rhian back to her bedroom. He hesitated inside the door, her brother hovering behind him. She stripped the comforter to the foot of the bed and hailed Garrick over Skype.

  “Thank you, Lach. I’ve got it from here.”

  He glanced at Rhian, still pale and little wide-eyed, and then gave her a frankly dubious look. Before she could come up with a good explanation, Garrick answered.

  “Hey, Sav—”

  She handed the iPad to Rhian, who took it automatically.

  “Rhian?” Garrick said, immediately concerned.

  Rhian opened his mouth to say something, but when no words came out, he closed it again with a sigh. The look of consternation was back.

  “Rhian? Baby?” Garrick’s voice rose. “Are you okay?”

  Lachlan looked between her, Rhian, and the bed she’d just prepared for him. For them.

  She pulled her brother out into the hall.

  His face was pinched with concern, though thankfully not of the enraged, over-protective brother variety. Yet. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked.

  She fought not to blush as she gently urging Lachlan toward the door. She mumbled something about sleeping on the couch, hating the lie but not wanting to get into explanations right now. Hell, she didn’t have any explanation to give.

  How the hell would she explain any of this to her brothers? Her parents?

  She shoved that aside for now. She needed to get back to Rhian and Garrick. The rest she’d figure out later.

  Lachlan cast a last glance toward the bedroom before drawing her into a fierce hug.

  “Be careful.”

  She slumped with relief. “I will. He’ll be okay.”

  “It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “I’m fine. Thank you for helping me get him home. I’ll call you in the morning, all right?”

  He kissed the top of her head and left.

  She sagged against the closed door, then took a deep, steadying breath and ran down the hall.

  Garrick studied Rhian’s pale face and tried to guess what had happened. He hadn’t a fucking clue.

  “Rhian, baby, I love you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Rhian blinked and looked right at him. His pupils were pin-prinks in a sea of blue, but his gaze was focused.

  Garrick could hear Savannah speaking softly to someone, the sound fading as they moved away. Had she left Garrick to comfort Rhian on his own? He couldn’t blame her if she had, but he was at a complete fucking loss on how to go about it.

  “I’m okay.”

  Rhian’s voice brought Garrick’s heart rate from a gallop to a steady trot.

  “Okay,” he agreed, though he knew it was bullshit. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Rhian appeared to think about that for a moment. “No.”

  Garrick actually smiled. “Fair enough.” He’d be damn sure to get back to it later, but for now, seeing Rhian’s lips quirk was enough.

  Savannah peered over the edge of the iPad and Garrick slumped with relief. Rhian looked up at her with a painfully sad smile, tinged with apology. Garrick’s heart constricted.

  What the hell had happened?

  Savannah kept her gaze on Rhian. “Want to tell me what happened out there?”

  Aware that Rhian could see his face, Garrick fought for a calm expression while his brain rioted with questions. Out where? Savannah doesn’t know either?

  “It was him,” Rhian said in a dull voice. What little color that had returned to his face, fled.

  “Who?” Garrick asked.

  Rhian screwed his eyes closed and shook his head. Savannah looked at Garrick.

  “What do I do?”

  “I don’t know,” Garrick admitted, hating that it was true.

  “What would you do?”

  Rhian huffed. “I’m sitting right here, you know. And I’m fine.”

  They both ignored that patent lie. He hadn’t even opened his eyes.

  “What, Garrick?” Savannah demanded.

  “I’d get us both naked and lie down on him,” he admitted.

  The color returned to Rhian’s face, with a vengeance. “Garrick.”

  “It’s true,” Garrick returned. And he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise, at least not until Rhian could open his fucking eyes.

  The iPad jerked, three times, before Savannah successfully pried it from Rhian’s hands. The view swung around, and Garrick was looking at the ceiling, the pillows, the footboard, the floor.

  “Savannah, are you guys okay?”

  “Yeah, we’re good,” she replied. She sounded like she was trying to lift something heavy.

  Something shook the iPad, but Garrick was still left with nothing but a view of the light
above the bed.

  “Hey,” Rhian protested.

  “Don’t be a baby,” Savannah returned.

  “But…”

  Garrick glared at his iPad and ground his teeth. “Everybody okay over there?”

  Goddamn, this was the worst fucking method of communication ever invented.

  At last the image blurred again and he was staring into Savannah’s concerned gaze. His guts knotted.

  “I hope you’re right about this,” she said.

  “About what?”

  She handed the iPad back to Rhian and he bobbled it.

  Garrick blinked. Rhian was sitting on the edge of the bed. Buck naked.

  The iPad dropped, presumably to Rhian’s lap. Savannah—now upside down to Garrick—stood wearing nothing but bikini panties and a tank top.

  Garrick stared, agape, as she pulled the tank top over her head, exposing full breasts and smooth skin. In spite of his gut-churning concern about Rhian, heat pooled in his belly and his cock twitched hard against his fly.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Rhian blinked with surprise as Savannah stripped down in front of him. In her haste, she didn’t bother to turn her back. In his shock, he didn’t bother to look away. He did what he’d always wanted. Stared. Long and hard. He had zero capacity for artifice at the moment. He felt scraped down to the bone, his soul naked and raw.

  He was positively shocked when his dick lifted with interest. It spoke to the power of his attraction to Savannah that arousal could wrestle through the endless confusion and static in his brain since seeing Jimmy.

  She grabbed an old t-shirt Rhian recognized as Garrick’s and pulled it on, covering her gorgeous body to mid-thigh.

  He closed his eyes and tried to gather his wits. They seemed too far away to grasp, scattered on the pavement of the Haymarket.

  The iPad waivered in his hands and he barely kept it from crashing to the floor.

  Garrick deep voice came from his lap. “Baby, that’s one hell of a view, but I’m really not in the mood for Skype sex right now.”

  Rhian opened his eyes. The iPad camera was pointed right at his dick.