CHAPTER ELEVEN #3
He swallows what looks like regret. “I’ll see you in the morning. We leave at ten.”
“Got it. The all-night kind of business.” I breathe in my dignity, refusing to serve it to him, but I’ve never been so pissed off.
Glancing at Liam, who’s been soaking this whole scene in from the couch, I arch my brow in question and jerk my chin toward the bag of beignets tucked away on the counter .
He laughs and throws his hands out. “Do what ya gotta do, girl. I’ll handle it.”
Wells studies me, eyes flitting between Liam and me, unease written all over his face.
I scurry the few steps back into the kitchen, reach into the bag, and pluck out a powdered pastry, ripping off the corner and letting it melt on my tongue. “At least I bring back souvenirs from my outings.”
“Where the fuck did you get those?” he snarls with a subsequent roaring growl. Honest to God, it’s animalistic and so arousing.
My tongue flicks out slowly to lick some powdered sugar off my lip. “Café Beignet. Ever been there?”
He scrubs his hands over his face, jaw rigid. “I expressly forbade you to leave the property or go anywhere without one of us.”
Batting my lashes, I let a wicked grin tease my lips. “I felt perfectly cared for by the man I was with. Completely satisfied. No worries.”
Liam snickers.
And I’m being choked again. Wells isn’t exactly cutting off my airway, but he looks like he wants to. Either that or tear my clothes off and fuck me into compliance. Maybe both.
Yes, please.
He isn’t saying anything, just pressing me against the wall, staring me down, and consuming all the oxygen in the suite as Ty emerges from his room. He gauges the situation, fetches my pool tote off the floor, hooks his arm around my waist, and peels me away from Wells.
“Time to go, Freckles,” he says as he picks me up and carries me to the door.
I keep my eyes on Wells the entire time. “So we’re clear, that conversation, regarding the unorthodox way of completing our business transaction, was a onetime offer. No worries about me complicating things again.”
The door slams behind us with an exasperated sigh from Ty when he sets me down .
“What the hell is going on, Ty? What is wrong with all of you, and why are we leaving a day early?”
He stares at me for a beat. “You were roofied last night.”
The truth of that pummels me. “Oh, that’s why I … by that guy at the bar.” A flash of Wells smashing his face into the bar top, bloody and shrieking, bombards my memory. And Wells sprinting with me. I gasp. “Who was he?”
“We’re working on it,” he says plainly.
And I know that’s all I’m getting. I’m mixed up in a world I don’t understand, and while they’re clearly trying to protect me, I don’t have any idea what I’m being protected from.
We’ve been home for five days, and other than visiting my father on Wednesday, I’ve locked myself in my room.
Upon returning, Wells informed me that I needed to begin training—whatever the hell that entails.
I know Liam told me things would be changing and to cooperate, but my period started.
And Celeste won’t text me back. And I don’t want to call my mom because she’ll hear the sadness in my voice, so we’ve only texted a few times. Basically, I’m alone and falling apart.
My sole outlets are baking while the rest of the house sleeps and texting with Rena.
Chocolate chip cookies. Cherry-apple pie.
Banana bread. I sent her pictures of my baked goods.
She called me a sugary rebel. It seems she’s running out of piercing real estate and her brothers have been temperamental since we left.
Today, I’ve taken to hiding out and bingeing rom-coms. Rena claims period self-pity is empowering. She told me to own it. So, I’m all in.
A knock raps on my door, and I yell, “Come in,” with an eye roll because I don’t want to pause When Harry Met Sally .
Ty peeks in. “You’ve been sulking in here for days, Freckles. I miss you. What’s the story?”
I prop myself up. “Truth? ”
“Always.”
“I’m depressed, on my period, in no mood to train , and I miss Celeste, so I’m staying in bed and bingeing rom-coms today.”
“Fine,” he says, flopping onto my bed beside me. “I guess we’re watching movies.”
“You don’t—”
“I do actually,” he insists.
Liam struts in next. “Did I hear something about a movie day?”
Seriously?
“That time of the month,” Ty shares.
I smack his chest. “That’s so fucked up.”
Unfazed by my slap, he laughs.
Liam crawls into bed on the other side. “It’s a fact of life, High Society. Don’t be so stuffy.”
Before his words are even finished, Gage appears in the doorway. “What’s this about?”
Liam waves his hand over his crotch. “Girl stuff.”
What the hell?
I scoff. “Did you just gesture to your mangina?”
That makes all three of them cackle, which, I have to admit, is uplifting.
Gage scowls. “Shit. You must be exhausted. Cramps?”
There is not a moment with these men that isn’t mystifying. The guy who once leered at me with a murderous rage wants to know if I have cramps.
“They aren’t so bad,” I assure him. “I’m just mopey .”
His eyes droop as he scrunches his lips in commiseration before forcing a benevolent grin. “That pie is a fucking masterpiece.”
Food is undeniably the key with that one. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“Loved it.” He beams. “Want a movie snack?”
My brows knit together. “You’re going to make me something?”
“Yeah—”
“Microwave popcorn,” Liam taunts. “I want some. ”
“No. Not fucking popcorn, dipshit,” Gage barks, and the two disappear, leaving me with Ty.
“So, lay it on me. What’s got you so depressed?” he asks. “And don’t say nothing specific .”
“Fine,” I grumble, twirling a thread from my shirt around my index finger until the skin blanches. “Why does Wells hate me?”
“Hate you?” He unravels my finger so the blood flow returns. “Wells definitely doesn’t hate you, Freckles.”
“He’s avoiding me and agitated,” I argue, smashing my head into my pillow with a groan.
“It’s complicated right now, but I thought everything he did for the wedding would show you—”
“The wedding?” My head pops up like a piece of toast, my breath catching. “I thought that was you and Rena.”
He shakes his head. “I told him what you said, but he arranged everything.”
The cake. It didn’t occur to me before, but the spines of the books were our favorites. The ones we shared my first night here. All of it was so sweet. Maybe there is something between us. My heart squeezes with hope.
When I don’t say anything, Ty adds, “When you’re feeling better, you might want to check out the library.”
He doesn’t expound because Gage and Liam return with snacks and drinks.
Gage hands me a plate of Doritos, covered in melted cheddar cheese and jalapenos, saying, “Trust me,” as he sits in my velvet chair with his own feast.
Liam settles in beside me with popcorn, and Ty shares the nachos.
“These are fantastic,” I tell Gage after sampling his gourmet specialty. “Thank you.”
He lights up like he made me a four-course meal, so Liam throws a handful of popcorn at him .
About forty-five minutes later, the room is filled with us all howling at Meg Ryan’s fake orgasm when Wells walks in.
His eyes skate over us as he stands in the doorway. “What the fuck are you all doing? I told you she needs to train today.”
That pisses me off, but Ty clutches my arm and speaks before I can. “She needs another day.”
Wells looks at me, concern mixed with vexation. “What’s going on?”
“Period party,” Gage chirps, which causes Liam to convulse with laughter beside me while Ty and I do our best to stay composed.
“For all of you?” Wells snaps.
“Moral support.” Gage nods, biting into his banana bread.
Liam smirks. “Making sure everything comes out okay, Chief.”
That’s it. Ty and I burst out cackling.
Wells shakes his head. “Jesus Christ.”
He swipes his hand through his hair and disappears, leaving me to get my fill of junk food, cheesy romance, and men who are starting to feel like family.