Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CAMILLE
The bar is looking kickass.
The new stone bar adjacent to the fireplace looks beautiful.
Beckett and Asher are true craftsmen. I’ve loved working with them and Grace on this renovation.
The same old charm and warmth remain, only we added soft Gothic elements, antique trimming, and elaborate vintage detailing that reminds me of West’s home.
Modern black frames, dark, vintage elements, mixed with stained wood. Golden lighting changes the mood, balancing the black.
I smile when I bend to pick up a vase and feel that delicious ache in my core. Four days of using muscles I didn’t even know existed on my body and I’ve never felt so happily exhausted while simultaneously alive and wanting more.
West and I can’t keep our hands to ourselves. The moment we’re alone, we’re ripping each other’s clothes and fighting over whose mouth gets to drive the other wild first.
Shit. I love having him in my mouth. The power I wield on my knees, or straddled over him, is addictive.
I love his taste, his smell, how he feels inside me.
I’m so damn lucky that he got to be my first. I’ve heard other first stories.
Not all bad, but most mediocre. Mine was mind-blowing, I think I saw a blackhole when I orgasmed.
My man demands I tell him, I love him in order to let me come. His pale green eyes fight emotion every time, almost as though he can’t believe he’s loved. My beautiful, healing Hero. I vow to love him well for as long as he’ll let me.
He’s it for me.
Then the guilt sneaks in, as it has sporadically this last week. Styx’s been away, busy, juggling God-knows how many messes, including mine, so we haven’t seen him since my parents’ house. West gets updates, but they’re short texts.
We have to tell him. I just want him to have a clear head during this Black Feral shit. Once we’re all free to get back to our lives, we’ll tell him.
Sighing, I place the filled vases at the back tables reserved for bigger groups. The back door creaks open before it shuts loudly.
I thought West and the guys wouldn’t be back for another hour? He’s with Asher and Beckett picking up some materials to finish the exterior. I insisted I was fine and wouldn’t leave the bar. Plus, Styx still has his men in the area, watching.
“You guys back so soon?” I call out, fluffing the faux flower arrangements that cost a pretty penny since they look and almost feel real. I insisted it was worth it over needing to budget for fresh flowers weekly.
I turn when no one answers and freeze in place.
“Well, shit, baby,” Brian’s face contorts. “You abandoned me for this?” His shaking hand nudges a gold, vintage table piece I searched all week for on the internet.
My body moves, instinctively wanting to protect the piece, but at the smallest movement, Brian’s eyes narrow in on me. Fuck.
From here, his usually bright blue eyes are now blown wide by the pupil. It’s late October and he’s sweating, body coiled, movements agitated. This is the worst I’ve ever seen him.
My eyes focus on my phone, which isn’t in my pocket. No, I freaking left it on the table where he is.
Hysterical laughter breaks the deafening silence as he swipes everything off the tables, some pieces shattering on the ground.
“For fuck’s sake, Brian!” My heart cracks, watching beautiful pieces I’ve been excited all week to set up turn to nothing below his muddy feet.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. I can’t show weakness.
“Why the fuck did you block my calls, Camille?”
“You know why.”
He charges me, but I jump and put a table between us. “That’s close enough, Brian. Don’t you fucking touch me.”
His laughter is more erratic, sucking his teeth. “I need you to get that shit brain of a brother of yours to keep Black Feral off my ass,” he yells.
“I am not your mother. I am not your therapist. I am not your fixer. I am nothing to you as you are nothing to me.”
Brian tosses the table between us aside, rushing at me, grabbing my arms in a bruising hold.
He shakes me, my teeth clattering. “I was fucking good to you!” His spit splatters on my face. I turn away from his rancid breath. “You fucking owe me, bitch.”
“You’re hurting me,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
He was like Jekyll and Hyde.
His eyes clear for the slightest moment. “Baby, just come with me,” he attempts to cajole me. “Let’s go to Forsaken’s clubhouse. I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.”
I count my exits, scanning for weapons. If I could just get to the front door, Main Street is full of vendors prepping for next week, and tourists have already filtered into town.
“Brian,” I calm my tone. He’s so high, on who the fuck knows what—could be a mix of things, honestly. I focus on appealing to his delusion. “This is my place of work. How about we head to my car out front and see if Styx is nearby town. I’ll call him.”
His hands brush down the sides of my face, over and over, as he nods. “We’re gonna figure this out. I’m gonna get free from this debt, and you and I can go back home. I can’t wait to fuck you, baby.”
My body coils inside, but I force my exterior to remain calm.
“Come on.” I step to the side, but don’t get far before the switch happens.
“You fucking someone?” he asks.
“What?”
He grabs my arms again. I wince at the pain layering over his previous hold. “You smell different.” He sticks his nose into my neck. I pull back, but he shakes me. “Who are you fucking?” he yells in my face.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” West’s growl is dangerous before Brian’s ripped out of my space and thrown on the floor. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Brian roars back before stumbling to his feet. “You fucking him?” he demands of me.
West grabs Brian’s throat and slams him into the wall.
“Oh, God,” I gasp, stepping closer before Asher gently holds me back.
“Don’t get between two angry men.”
Beckett stands behind West. Brian feels closed in. His wide eyes fill with panic, and he claws at West’s hand at his throat.
“Back the fuck off. This is between my girl and me.”
“She’s not your girl, you shitstain. You’re the pathetic fuck who can’t take no for an answer?”
“Did you fuck her?” Brian yells in West’s face.
West’s hand squeezes. He leans in close. His voice is so low and menacing, I barely hear what he says. “I am the man who loves her, treats her right, honors her decisions, and yes, I fuck her. So good, my name’s the one she’s crying when I make my woman come so hard.”
Brian’s roar is animalistic as he fights West’s hold. That’s when the darkness West spoke of finds him once more. The hand at Brian’s throat swings him around, throwing him once again on the floor. West’s body straddles Brian and swings. And keeps swinging.
“If you ever fucking touch her again, I will find you, I will cut your dick off and make you choke on it, you sick fuck.”
“Asher,” I whisper, tears welling.
At first, Asher and Beckett stand in shock, seeing a side of their brother they’ve never witnessed. Only my brother has seen it.
“Stop him,” I cry. Not for Brian’s sake. I give three shits about him. For West’s sake.
Beckett snaps out of his shock, and both he and Asher wrestle West off Brian, who’s passed out. West’s cry is so primal and painful, I’m sobbing, watching him face this side he’s always feared and misunderstood.
Beckett pushes West’s front against the wall, blocking his movement from behind.
“Rein it in,” Beckett growls. “Look at her.” Then shakes West. “Look at her.” His authoritative tone has West instantly looking over at me. “She’s desperate to comfort you, but I won’t let her near you until I know you’ve reined that shit in. Now.”
Not wanting him to think my tears are fear of him, I nod and mouth, I love you, over and over. The feral darkness in his eyes eventually dissolves, and the gray-green stormy eyes I love so much come back to me. His body sags. And I know the shame narrative is attacking.
I don’t wait for Beckett’s go. I rush to my man, and he breaks from Beckett to meet me halfway. My body collides with him as his concaves over me, curling in so tight, fisting the material of my sweater.
“I’m sorry,” he chokes tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispers repeatedly.
“I’m here, Hero. I’m right here. I love you,” I whisper, running my fingers into his hair. “Look at me.” He shakes his head.
Over his shoulder, Asher and Beckett deal with Brian.
“Calling your brother,” Beckett lets me know. I nod and pull West and me around the fireplace pillar, wanting some privacy.
“Hero, look at me.” My tone is loving but firm.
He finally faces me, devastation lining every ounce of his body.
“Don’t you listen to whatever is spiraling in that beautiful head of yours,” I tell him.
I cup his bearded cheek. “I love you. All of you. And you love me,” I remind him.
“Fiercely. That’s what that was. You coming to my rescue when someone tried to hurt me.
You best believe, if anyone dared bring harm to you, I’d become feral and make them bleed. ”
More darkness fades.
Jokingly, I whisper the lyrics to our song that talks about being fresh from a fight.
“I love you,” he rasps, cupping my cheek.
I stretch up on my toes and kiss him. It’s slow but deep, full of vows and claiming.
“Are you shitting me, right now?”
Fuck. West and I slowly pull away and face the ire my brother’s emitting, like a storm around him. From my peripheral, Asher steps closer, ready to step in.
“Drew–,” I start.
“I’ll deal with you after,” he growls.
“Don’t fucking speak to her like that,” West finds some of the darkness I just chased away.
“Drew, we will talk about this, but more importantly, we need to handle that,” I stretch my arm out toward Brian, who the brothers tied up.