by Logan Fox
Rube grumbles something I don’t catch, and then we’re on the move again. He takes me through two more doors, and then the air is filled with the mechanical beep of machinery and the whoosh of life support systems.
Apollo and Cass part, their faces grim.
Rube takes me right up to the bed as if he won’t even entertain the thought of my feet touching the ground.
Zachary’s chest lifts and falls in time with the massive machine on the other side of the bed.
He’s pale and drawn, his cheekbones poking at his skin. Lips bloodless. Deep shadows under his sunken eyes.
My vision blurs. I blink hard, freeing my tears so I can see him again.
Apollo is talking to someone in the background. A nurse? A doctor? Their soft murmurs don’t sound positive.
“Put me down,” I say.
“We should get you back—” Rube begins, but I lift my unbandaged hand and lay it on his chest. Still not looking at him. Still focused on Zachary. “Please. Put me down.”
I have so many questions, but that’s not important right now. Right now, I’m trying to understand why it feels like the world is breaking down around me.
There’s no way I could have imagined the things he did and said, but now it feels like it was all a bad dream. The man lying in this bed isn’t capable of such violence, of such spite.
It’s impossible, but I know it’s true, and those conflicting thoughts make me feel dizzy and on edge. I want to shove away those thoughts and focus on my anger, but when I glance around the room, I see I’m not the only one struggling emotionally.
How can I be angry with him when he’s dying? We can sort out our shit later.
I slide out of Reuben’s arms and land on wobbly legs. He grabs me around the waist, keeping me steady as I lean forward and take Zachary’s hand in mine.
“Hey,” I whisper, and then clear my throat. “It’s me. Trinity. You remember me, right? The little girl who annoyed you so much?”
But nothing changes. There’s no quirk of his mouth, no twitch in his fingers.
I glance behind me and tilt my head back to look up at Rube. “Can he hear me?”
Reuben nods, his grim expression softening. “Of course he can.”
I turn back to the bed. Move a little closer. I stroke my fingers down the back of Zachary’s hand, careful not to nudge the IV drip. “Hey, so, the guys and I were wondering when the hell you’re coming back.” I try to laugh, but it doesn’t come out right. “It’s kinda lonely without you.” My voice catches on “without you” and when I try and speak again, I realize I’ve gone mute.
Cass appears at my side. He slides an arm around my waist, just below Rube’s, and squeezes me. “Yeah, you fucker. I mean, I get taking a vacation and shit, but this is costing us some serious dough.” He laughs too, and it sounds so forced that my heart shrivels up like a dying flower. “Well, guess it’s costing you.”
Apollo walks around the bed, and he hesitates before reaching out and stroking Zachary’s head. “You know we still have asses to kick, right? Can’t do that if you’re lying on yours.”
There’s quiet. Cass, Apollo, me…waiting.
Rube clears his throat. He hands me to Cass, and I miss his arms the second they leave my body.
When he stands over Zachary’s bed, it’s as if someone puts a stake through my chest and twists it.
Compared to Rube’s strong, broad body, Zachary’s looks so…fragile. Broken.
“What you did…” Reuben begins. “It wasn’t right. You know that. We all know that. But I’m hoping it was one of those times you couldn’t help it.”
I turn a puzzled frown to Cass, but he closes his eyes and gives his head a shake, as if telling me he’ll explain later.
Rube clears his throat again. Then he reaches out and lifts Zachary’s hand before lacing their fingers together.
“But then you did something so brave, so selfless…we’d be dicks not to forgive you.” His voice goes thick. “So if you don’t want to come back because of what I said, just know that I was full of shit. I do forgive you, Zach.”
“I forgive you too,” Apollo says. He gives Zachary’s head another stroke. “And I need you, man.”
“I forgive you.” Cass grabs his leg. “And you know I fucking need you.”
Then they all turn to me.
But the words stick in my throat. And when I shake my head, tears spill out of my eyes and race down my cheeks.
They don’t know what he did with the knife.
They didn’t hear how he threatened me.
I can forget about what he did, but I don’t know if I can ever forgive him.
“He saved your life,” Apollo murmurs. “Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“Apollo.” Rube’s voice is firm, his frown deep.
I glance at Apollo, then back and up at Rube. “What is he talking about?”
Rube points at Zachary’s chest. At the two sets of bandages plastered over his skin. “One of those bullets were meant for you, Trinity.”
“And one was meant for me,” Cass says beside me.
And then it comes rushing back.
My old house.
Gabriel trying to drown me in the bath.
The basement.
Gabriel chasing me down the hall.
Cass at the front door.
When I look down at Zachary again, it feels like someone is wrapping barbed wire around my heart.
“I…forgot.” I swallow hard and put my hands over my face. “How could I—”
“Concussion,” Apollo supplies, and then shrugs when I look up at him with slitted eyes. “What? You asked.”
I lick my lips. He saved my life. Possibly in exchange for his.
Only a cold-hearted bitch would hold a grudge against someone who sacrificed themselves for her.
“I forgive you, Zachary. And I need you too.” I look up at his three brothers, and my next words come easy, because I’ve never spoken truer ones in my life.
“We all need you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Trinity
SIX MONTHS LATER
Water laps against the side of the infinity pool, merging seamlessly with the nearby ocean. It splashes against my body as I slap my arms down on the cool tiles beside the pool. I shiver at the contrast between warm and cold, and almost slip back into the heated water when a pair of bare feet pad into view.
I tilt my head back, blinking water from my eyes as I stare up at Cass.
“Water’s perfect,” I tell him.
But he just keeps standing there, watching me. If it was any other guy, it would have been creepy as all hell. But it’s Cass, and with those stunning blue eyes staring at me, it just makes me feel like I’m melting inside.
“Are you getting in, or you just going to keep gawking?”
“Rube wants to see you,” he says.
I stop paddling my feet, sinking a little lower into the water as a chill races through me. “Now? But—”
“No buts.” He crouches beside the pool, his swimming shorts hiking up his legs. He’s put on muscle in the last few months. Everyone except Apollo has, who flat out refuses to use our mansion’s built-in gym for anything more than some light cardio when it rains longer than a day. “You promised.”
“Yeah, bu—” I cut off, pressing my lips together. “God. Now?”
“Now, my blasphemous little slut,” he says with a rueful grin.
I give him a half-smile, and let him haul me out of the water. His eyes rake over my body, taking in every curve. In the past, I’d have wanted to snatch up a towel and cover myself.
But the Brotherhood have taught me a lot of things. Being proud of my body is one of them.
How can I hate something they worship?
Cass leads me back inside the house, but not before we both glance back at the view. The crests of the waves are barely visible—fluffy white lines that chase each other across the pale shore. At night, the ocean sighs like a sleeping
beast, and I’ve fallen in love with it as much as I have with them.
All of them.
The ground floor of the mansion is built for entertaining, but we’ve never had any guests. What we have is too special. Too unique. People would ask too many questions. Or they wouldn’t understand, and try to become part of something they’re not.
Cass veers off into the kitchen, and I pause at the foot of the broad, open stairs that sweep up to the first floor. “What are you doing?”
He comes back a second later with strawberries and a bottle of champagne. “Hungry,” he lies.
“Bribing me won’t work,” I tell him, grabbing a strawberry off the tray and popping it in my mouth as we start up. “But I do commend your efforts.”
He chuckles at that, but not as enthusiastically as he usually would.
My steps become slower the higher we go up. And then almost stop when I can see over the landing.
They’re all there. Congregating. Waiting for me.
The second floor is reserved for the bedrooms, and the mini-theater with its massive TV and an assortment of day beds and recliners. My men spend a lot of time up here, watching movies, sports, reality shows. Soaking up the world they missed the last decade and a half.
Sometimes I join them. But most of the time I’m curled up on the window seat nearby, working through the pile of books beside it.
I missed out on a lot too. Tolkien. Dickens. Rowling. Harlequin. My men don’t tell me what I can and can’t read. Don’t tell me how I can and can’t dress.
For the first time in my life, I’m free.
Truly free.
Rube turns to face me, arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing a dark, short-sleeved shirt that looks painted on to his beautiful sculpted torso, and a pair of baggy sweatpants.
Those dark clothes, paired with his black eyebrows and black hair, make his green eyes pop.
I’ll never forget the morning I woke up beside him, turned around, and saw his real eyes open for the first time.
I guess just like it’s taken me forever to get used to Cass’s longer hair. It’s not as long as Apollo’s but when he’s in the mood Cass ties it up in a man bun that makes me start panting.
“Enjoy your swim?” Rube asks, but there’s an edge to his voice like he’s already planned how much I’m going to regret stalling.
Apollo sits forward on one of the day beds, an unlit cigarette dangling between his fingers. I don’t let them smoke inside the house, and I guess he hasn’t gotten around to heading outside to have it yet.
He’s wearing three-quarter shorts and a too-big vest that shows most of his ribs and chest through the armholes. Cass’s favorite pastime—besides watching celebrity cooking shows—is to make fun of his style. He doesn’t seem to realize Apollo doesn’t have a style—Apollo wears the clothes that are in his cupboard, usually whatever’s on top of the pile he sees first.
As if thinking his name summons him, Cass steps up behind me, proffering the tray of strawberries as he presses a kiss to my ear.
“Ma’am.”
I wave him away dismissively, but only after I’ve snagged another strawberry off the tray.
“Fine,” I say through a sigh. “Where is he?” I ask, sticking out my hip and trying for all the world to sound like a cocky bitch.
Rube’s head tilts and then he steps to the side, revealing the only non-reclining armchair in this space.
Zachary is perched on the edge of the seat. He’s wearing a Gucci T-shirt that probably cost more than the couch, and a pair of tattered jeans.
He looks the same as he always has.
Weeks after we left Virginia and came to live in Dana Point in this mansion Zachary bought us, the others started transforming. Like butterflies fresh out of their cocoons.
Cass grew out his hair.
Reuben stopped wearing his colored contacts.
Apollo…okay, he hasn’t transformed much. But he does spend a lot less time by himself than he used to. He and Cass go surfing together in the morning where in the past, according to Rube, he’d have gone alone.
But Zach?
Put him in a cable-knit sweater and a pair of loafers, and he’s Brother Rutherford.
Which is one of the reasons why it’s been six months, and Zachary and I still haven’t spoken more than two words to each other.
Because he hasn’t changed.
Not on the outside.
Not on the inside.
“I did enjoy my swim, thank you for asking,” I tell Rube, now blatantly ignoring Zachary. “In fact, I think I’ll go have a lie-down. All that splashing around tired me out.”
I turn my back, slip past Cass, and head for the master bedroom.
“Trinity.” Zach’s voice stops me in my tracks. And fuck, I hate that he still has that kind of power over me. “Please.”
The taste of strawberries goes sour in my mouth. “No.” My back is still turned. “I’m not…” I want to say ready, but that’s not the right word.
I hear fabric rustle. Zachary getting to his feet. I hear his bare feet on the floor as he comes closer. The moment his hands touch my shoulders, I spin around and shove him away.
There’s a sudden tension in the room, like every one of his brothers is holding his breath.
“I said no.” The words are barely a whisper.
Zach watches me, and then nods. He takes a step back, drops his eyes. “Okay.”
I blink hard, and look away making sure I don’t catch anyone else’s eye.
No, he hasn’t changed. He might act it, and his brothers might insist he has, but I know he’s the same angry, spiteful person he was six months ago.
Sure, he’s been going to therapy. But from what Cass tells me—which isn’t a lot—he’s only just started on a very long journey.
And in the meantime? He’s pumping himself full of drugs so he’ll be the kind of man we all want him to be.
Calm.
Peaceful.
But what happens when he stops taking his drugs? Will he be holding a knife up my skirt and telling me to fuck off again?
Yes, I’m grateful he saved my life. But he’s the whole reason I was in that house to begin with. It’s because of him that I told Gabriel everything I knew. He’s the one that made me question everything I thought I knew. And when I had no answers, I turned to the only man I thought could provide them.
Gabriel.
His brothers think he’s earned my forgiveness.
He hasn’t.
Not even close.
But every time I try to explain it to them, I get tangled up in words and emotions. So I told them I wasn’t ready. That I had things to work through before I’d let Zachary be a larger part of our lives than he is now. Because I can’t deny them anything, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let him anywhere near my heart.
The sound of my damp feet is barely audible over my pounding heart as I head to the top floor. The entire level is reserved for the main suite. Bedroom. En suite bathroom. Massive walk-in closet. A small lounge. A wrap-around balcony with a hot tub.
I lied about going to sleep. I’m too wired for that to even be an option. But at least I can rinse my hair and get into some comfy clothes. My skin’s pebbling after being in that warm pool.
When I step inside the black, gold-veined marble shower, it turns on automatically.
Apollo rigged the whole house with stuff like that. At night, my way is lighted with barely-visible downlights all the way down to the kitchen for a glass of water. When I step into the pool, the lights turn on.
I lose myself under the shower’s rain setting, trying not to think about the looming argument.
It always comes when I say no.
Then my men spend days trying to change my mind. We fight. We make up. And the whole thing’s forgotten for a week or two.
Then the cycle begins again.
I’m considering telling them Zachary has to leave.
But he provides for us. Everything we have, it�
�s because of him. And they’ve moved on already. They truly forgave him in that hospital room.
It’s just me.
Fingers skate down my spine. I spin around, gasping, for some reason expecting it to be Zachary.
But it’s Reuben. Naked. Wet.
My eyes trail over his pecs. His washboard stomach. The thick cock in its bed of dark curls.
“What—”
He grabs my shoulders and presses me against the cool marble wall. Then he swipes hair out of my face, cupping my head in his massive hands.
I think he’s going to say something, but instead he ducks his head and kisses me.
My arms are around his neck a second later. I press my body against his, savoring the feel of his naked skin against mine. He forces his tongue into my mouth, fighting me back when I resist him.
I know what he’s doing. He’s softening me up. Hoping I’ll change my mind about Zach.
And since I like this game, I’ll allow him to play it.
He slides his hand down my stomach and caresses my clit with the tips of his fingers. On cue, I spread my legs, inviting him lower.
But tonight he teases me. The only thing he deepens is his kiss, his fingertips feather soft as they stroke me.
Hot tingles spread through my core. I’m already becoming wet from his touch, and as if he’s reading my mind, he takes away his hand and instead grabs the back of my neck.
I could kiss him for an eternity, but now that he’s stoked a fire inside me, it’s not enough. I need him inside me, filling me, ending the ache he forced on me.
But when I push him away, breaking our kiss, and I stare up into his mesmerizing green eyes, I already know what’s going to happen before I open my mouth.
“Fuck me,” I command him.
His eyes narrow. “Haven’t you learned any manners yet?”
My men are big on manners lately. I can be as demanding as I want in bed, but I have to be polite about it.
But I was set up—again—and that makes me feel rebellious.
I’m ready with another demand, but Rube darts forward and catches my lips with a kiss.
This time he doesn’t hold back.
It’s fierce and it’s controlling and it makes my legs weak.
