Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
T his time, I don’t bother being nice and wiggling out from under Boone without waking him up. I wake up with all of us on the couch, my head on Fletcher’s thigh and Boone curled around me with his body against the back of the thankfully-wide couch.
“Move,” I mutter, elbowing him in the stomach. He groans and pulls away from me, and I sit up to look around the room, eyes bleary and sore all over. When I look down, I can still see the fading marks from the Christmas lights that had been wrapped around me.
My eyes land on Fletcher, who’s naturally already awake, but he doesn’t say anything as I get to my feet, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to pretend I don’t feel incredibly vulnerable without clothes on around them. I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t considering how much they’ve seen me naked.
“Feel okay, princess?” he murmurs sleepily, a yawn forcing his jaws wide. “You don’t have to get up yet. It’s only seven or so.”
“I’m…” I tip my head one way, then the other. “Restless.” It’s hard for me to admit, but I only shrug at my own explanation. “Also, I hate you both.”
“Sure,” he agrees, moving to drag Boone into his lap, the sleepy man readjusting with a murmur of approval and nosing at Fletcher’s jaw. “You hate us all you want, Conor. We’ll be here when you want to talk about it.” He’s so pleased with himself that it makes me want to grind my teeth, but instead I quickly snatch my clothes off the floor and retreat to my room once more.
Which is quickly starting to feel like my one safe haven from them in this house. So far whenever I’m in there, they’ve left me alone for the most part. It’s nice of them, I suppose?—
Boone’s long, low moan nearly makes me trip, and I look over my shoulder to see he’s now straddling Fletcher’s thighs, his face pressed to his shoulder while Fletcher says something that makes him whine a needy, wanting noise.
Even though I’m sore and worn out, I can’t help stopping to watch them. Just for a few seconds. They’re gorgeous together, like two contrasting deities representing dark and darker , all wrapped up in the most beautiful packages and designed to make anyone doubt their monstrous natures.
The perfect camouflage for the worst predators.
Before Boone can look up I keep walking, letting Sitka out from the kitchen and leading her into my room. As offended as she was earlier, she hops up on my bed and flops down with a huff to stare at me, her tail wiggling slowly against the comforter.
“Yeah, it’s not how I expected this trip to go either,” I tell her, heading to my duffel bag and grabbing a black hoodie and pair of running shorts. It’s warm in the house, though not oppressively so, and if I’m staying inside like I want, I’d much rather walk around in shorts and drag a blanket with me in case of getting cold. Not only that, but I’m hoping we can get the fireplace working today, and I’ll be sitting close enough that the possibility of getting overheated is high.
Just as I sit down on the bed, my phone vibrates, making me jump when it becomes obvious I’ve accidentally sat right on it. Rolling onto my side I grab it and slide the call button absently, not bothering to look at the caller ID. After all, there are only a few people it could be, with my small friend circle and smaller family.
“Hello?” I ask, the word accompanied by a tired sigh. I’m still tired, having slept not-so-great even with Boone curled around me and Fletcher running his fingers through my hair. But I don’t blame them. I don’t sleep well anymore, and that has nothing to do with them.
“ Hey hon!” My dad sounds chipper as hell, and I can’t decide if it’s authentic or put-on to try to keep the mood light. “ How are things going up there?”
“Umm…” I roll onto my back to stare up at my ceiling, alert for any sounds from the living room. While I’m sure Dad won’t be able to hear anything from that far away, I can maybe admit to myself that I’m curious to hear those sounds for myself. After all, it’s already pretty clear I’m just as fucked up as Boone and Fletcher, judging by my lack of resistance to them taking things further last night.
Cutting that thought off hard, I refocus on the conversation Dad clearly wants to have. “It’s fine, I guess.” That’s the best I can do, and I watch Sitka worm her way up the bed, head coming to rest on my shoulder. “This isn’t exactly how I thought I’d be spending Christmas.” I can’t help my reproachful tone of voice, or the resentment I feel toward Dad for his deception and not being able to come up here.
Sure, this could be going a lot worse. But it’s still not what I was told would be the case. Dad lying to me is still a lie. Even if he hadn’t meant anything bad by it.
“ So none of you have killed each other yet?” His choice of words make me wince, and I’m glad he can’t see the way I cringe at the joke.
But I force myself to laugh, the sound like a rough grating in my throat. “No, uh. Not yet.” I try hard to sound casual and light. But I’m not sure how well I succeeded, judging by Dad’s silence. He doesn’t know what to say, clearly.
That makes two of us.
“ I’m really sorry, Con.” He lets out a heavy sigh that makes me feel a little bad. “ I really wanted to be there. I’ve missed you since you decided to leave. ” That’s certainly an understatement for the dramatic way I’d disappeared in the night with a note for my dad telling him I wasn’t coming back and I would be fine.
Not that I feel the least bit guilty about it.
But I let out the breath I’m holding, pushing my hand against my face. “It’s fine, Dad.” It’s not really, and I intend on holding a grudge, which I’ve only ever been good at when it comes to my stepbrothers. “Are you uh, are you and Cheryl doing anything for Christmas Eve today?”
“ Just finishing up some stuff around the house. Cheryl is hoping to get your Christmas gifts up there before you leave. She went a little crazy on you this year. But I told her maybe we’ll have to see if we can get an address for you in Illinois, instead. ” I can hear the way his voice dips with a bitter note, and something in me twists, guilt flooding my lungs like water. The feeling sucks, and I open my mouth, then close it, afraid of saying something I’ll regret one way or another.
“Maybe, I umm…can be here a few extra days,” I say at last, fearing every word that comes out of my mouth. “I don’t have to get back super soon. Since I’ve just been working with a friend at her shop.” It’s more than Dad has known about my life in years, and he jumps on it.
Our conversation turns easy and casual, with him asking more and more questions when I open up to him little by little. It’s hard for me, but not just because I’ve been trying to keep to myself for all these years. It’s hard because I don’t want him to know what happened to me last spring.
I don’t want him to think less of me for swallowing all the pills I later vomited up at the hospital. When he finally admits he has to go, I’m surprised to see we’ve been on the phone for over an hour. It’s now eight thirty-two according to my phone, and I’m starting to get hungry, judging by the way my stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself.
“Okay. Umm…” God, this is harder than it should be. “Maybe we can call again? Tomorrow or something, so we can wish each other Merry Christmas?” I’m trying to extend an olive branch without overcommitting myself, and while I won’t admit it, I’m afraid I’ll disappoint him by running away again.
“ That would be great, Conor ,” Dad tells me. “ I really appreciate you giving us a chance. And giving your brothers a chance. We’ve all missed you. Maybe…” he trails off and my lungs seem to freeze in fear. “ Maybe this can be a new beginning for all of us.”
“Maybe.” I can’t give him a commitment one way or the other, but I can at least do that much. Even though he can’t see it I find myself smiling, rubbing Sitka’s fur in an attempt to keep myself from fidgeting from anxiety so much. “Thanks for calling, Dad. It’s been nice to talk like this again.”
Fuck, I’ve missed it.
When Dad says his goodbyes and hangs up, I find I can’t sit still. I’m too restless, too fidgety. I get to my feet and go to my door, not hesitating before opening it and heading out to the main area with Sitka trotting out with me.
To my surprise, Fletcher and Boone are still down here, instead of having gone back to their room to prowl or plot or fuck. Fletcher is still perched on the edge of the sofa, and Boone has put clothes on, thank god, to fiddle with the remote and flip through Christmas specials.
“Oh.” I stop when I see flames in the fireplace, flickering continuously. “You turned the fireplace on.” I hadn’t thought the two of them would care that much, and I’d be figuring it out on my own.
“Well, yeah.” Boone twists to look up at me. “You always liked the fireplace being on. I figured that hadn’t changed much, so I got it going for you.” He’s so…honest. His face is full of bemusement at my surprise.
“Thank you.” It’s probably the first time I’ve thanked them, honestly thanked them, in years. “I’m just surprised since you’re not normally very thoughtful, Boone.” Stepping forward, I reach out to ruffle his hair in a way I know he’ll hate. Sure enough he hunches his shoulders and grumbles a few complaints, but he doesn’t jerk away like I thought he would.
Which only means it’s easier for my attention to fixate on the flames, the details of my conversation with dad playing on repeat in my brain. My fingers sink into Boone’s hair, massaging his scalp, and it’s sort of like how I pet Sitka, just to ground myself and keep my hands busy.
“He’s going to start purring if you aren’t careful.” Fletcher’s low chuckle snaps me out of my thoughts and I look over at him, surprised, before glancing down at Boone. Sure enough, he’s leaning against the back of the sofa, completely relaxed and boneless under my hand. I snort and pull my fingers free from his thick brown hair, garnering another resentful groan from him as his eyes open, meeting mine in a way I can only describe as pouting.
“Who knew you liked physical affection? I could go a step further and wonder out loud if you let Fletcher put a collar on you while he pets your head. Are you his good little puppy, Boone?” I coo theatrically, looking to get a rise out of him.
Instead he turns to look sidelong at Fletcher, who doesn’t say a word.
And it dawns on me that I’m right.
“Wow. Wow. ” I shake my head, eyeing them both on my way to the patio door, which I jerk open to let Sitka out. “Just wow, you two. It’s almost like you’re secretly soft instead of the worst people on Earth. I mean, you are the worst,” I add. “Just so you know. But I didn’t expect the pet play.” Rummaging around in the fridge yields a Lunchable that’s probably Boone’s, and a bottle of water I suppose I should drink instead of loading up on more chocolate milk. After making sure Sitka’s bowls are full, I come back to the living room with her panting from her romp in the snow.
She immediately heads to the couch, hopping in between the boys while I move to curl up on one of the recliners with my food. “So I’m thinking about escaping today,” I mention, loving the feel of the heat on my face from the fireplace. “Or you know, going to stay literally anywhere else.”
“Oh, yeah?” Fletcher doesn’t seem bothered, and doesn’t look up from his phone. “In what vehicle, exactly?”
“Thought I’d steal your truck.” I would never, and all of us know it.
But Boone snickers and Fletcher slowly looks up at me, meeting my gaze. “Maybe you rethink that, princess,” he advises flatly. “Otherwise, Christmas light bondage and a bit of spanking will look like body worship when I’m done with you.”
His words make me shudder, and I promise myself that it’s fear and revulsion. Nothing else. Certainly not exhilaration, and wondering just what he might be planning. Though I remind myself that this is one thing I’m too afraid to do, because of the consequences from Fletcher, sure.
But also because there’s every chance I’d wreck his nice, new truck and ruin this whole reconnecting thing all on my own.