Chapter 9
AXL
DECK MY BALLS… I MEAN HALLS
We fucked up. Big time.
I can’t deny that it feels like a massive weight’s been lifted off my shoulders now that Shiloh knows who we really are, but that relief is tangled with guilt, burning like acid inside my chest because the truth is, we deceived her.
We should have told her from the get-go. Believe me, I wanted to. As unprepared as I was, I still would have removed my mask. But the second her eyes met mine, every ounce of sense I had flew right out the damn window.
Would she have come back with us if she had known? I mean, I know that she was into it. God, the way her body responded to us was fucking mind-blowing to watch. But if she’d known we were Jovi’s brothers, would she have still wanted us?
Shiloh means everything to me—to us. She always has.
Fuck, she's the reason we tried to make a name for ourselves in the first place.
We wanted her to see us as more than the screwups we used to be, and tonight, call it a fucking Christmas miracle, because for a couple of perfect hours, she looked at us like we meant something to her.
I touched her. Felt her, tasted her arousal that coated my fingers after I made her come, which I had only ever dreamed of doing.
Nothing in this fucking world could have prepared me for how drop-dead gorgeous she’d be, or how her blue eyes would darken with each of Zane’s dirty commands.
Not to mention that filthy mouth of hers will be my undoing.
She’s a shattered halo wrapped in dark corruption, both angel and ruin, longing to be held by hands that understand her every piece. And now that we finally have her, we’ll show her just how perfect she’s always been, beyond anyone else’s judgment.
Shiloh is the type of woman who knows what she wants, and there’s no denying that she wanted us. Yet, something gnaws at the edges of my thoughts, telling me that we may have already lost her.
No. We’re not doing that.
I will not let that happen.
Shiloh is ours, and the sooner she comes to terms with that, the better.
The thought of her walking away from us after the snow clears is like a knife straight through my fucking chest. An inevitable ending to a perfect dream.
Though now that I'm thinking clearly, there is no way I'm letting her leave. Not now that I know what she tastes like, and certainly not after feeling what it’s like to finally have her in my arms after all these years.
The cold bites through my jacket as I round the outside wall of the workshop, but it barely registers because my mind is on one thing, and one thing only. Showing our girl that there is no reality where she can escape us.
The hum of the radiator fills the ice-cold air, and I'm glad that she had the forethought to put it on. I don't know what I'd do if she were upside down somewhere, buried beneath a blanket of snow.
Our girl likes danger. We've always known that side of her existed, even if she’d never admit it to anyone.
She craves the edge, the chaos, the thrill of doing all the things she shouldn’t.
It’s evident in the way she’s transformed into this dark goddess of a woman, against her parents' wishes, no doubt.
Shiloh's always been tied to us in that aspect.
It was as if something inside her spoke to whatever demons we had lurking beneath our own facades, and that connection was one of the reasons I was drawn to her in the first place.
She wants us to chase her.
She’s been running after guys who weren’t even remotely worthy of her for years.
Jovi spilled the beans on that one. But now, it’s our turn.
It’s time for our girl to learn what it means to be wanted, claimed, and owned by us.
And if she thinks that this is over, she has another thing coming.
She’s basically signed up to a lifetime subscription to us, and she doesn’t even know it yet.
“But you can't hide from us forever, can you, baby?” I call out, and I know that she can hear me.
Sleet and wind whip against my body in every direction as I push through the snow and trudge around the side of the workshop, making my way to the door.
She must love the fucking snow, because fuck being out here in this weather.
The others stalk close behind, whistling into the screaming wind, but the moment my hand closes around the ice-cold handle, the door flies open, hitting the side of the shop with a loud bang.
The force of it shoves me back a little, though I press against the wind and snow snarling against me.
It will take a lot more than a snowstorm to keep me from my girl.
The door slams shut behind me as I slowly make my way through the dark-lit space.
“What do you want from me?” Her voice shakes from the cold, but it's the fear I hear in her tone that has me crossing the threshold, pulling me closer into her orbit.
“You, Shiloh. We want you,” Zane says from behind me, and a wave of anticipation washes over me, knowing that we have her cornered with nowhere to run.
A whimper escapes her, coming from the right side of the lower level, and it's all I can do not to chuckle because she didn't even bother to hide from us.
Then, I see her.
My snow angel.
She’s pressed against a bunch of old moving boxes we had sent out here earlier in the year.
I don't miss the way her dark silhouette straightens when we come into view, and for a minute, I freeze. This woman has me tied up in all kinds of knots, and it’s like my brain short circuits around her.
Shiloh’s arms are wrapped around her middle, like a deer caught in headlights, each echo of our footsteps setting her on edge and making her all jumpy and rigid.
She looks like she’s ready to bolt, but our girl won’t make it very far.
“There you are, Little Doll,” Zane says, circling her left side, but her shadow doesn't cower in the slightest. She's like a cornered wildcat right now, and if we aren't careful, she'll scratch our fucking eyes out.
The thought of her digging her nails into my skin until she draws blood, marking me in ways that only she could, has my dick instantly hardening against my zipper.
“I'm tired of your games. Haven't you assholes toyed with me enough?” she bites out, and I’d be an idiot if I didn’t notice the anger in her tone.
Fuck if my mouth isn’t watering at the image of her taking her anger out on me.
She can call me whatever the hell she wants, just as long as her wicked tongue is wrapped around the head of my cock afterward.
“Baby, we are only just getting started,” Phoenix answers, walking through the space between Zane and me, and only stopping when he’s an arm's length away from her. If looks could kill, we’d all be wrapped in fucking plastic because I can tell she’s furious even though her face is cloaked in shadows.
“Why?” she seethes, and my chest tightens at the hint of betrayal in her voice.
The warm air surrounding us morphs into something much heavier, and my heart flies straight to my fucking throat because we were idiots to think that Shiloh was the kind of woman to let the shit we’ve put her through slide, and I know she’s not going to let us off the hook easy.
Phoenix has had her name tattooed across his heart for the past eight years, way before we ever left Blue River, and if I’m being honest, I didn’t think she’d notice. There’s hardly any bare skin left on our bodies, so her looking that closely was a surprise.
“Why what?” Phoenix asks, and I can tell that he needs to hear her say it.
He needs her to admit that there’s something between us, and that there always has been.
He needs to know that the feelings we’ve had for her since we were younger weren’t all in our minds.
That every second we’ve spent wanting her wasn’t for nothing.
Hell, I’ll want her till the day I die, even if she tries to walk away for good.
“Why did you, why did Jovi keep this from me? What was I to you? One of your fucking groupies?” Zane and I move forward, standing beside my brother, though Shiloh’s shadowed gaze doesn’t shift from Phoenix.
“You were never a groupie to us, Shiloh. You were our fucking reason. You’re in our music, every chord, every beat, and we’ve spent our whole goddamn lives trying to be worthy of you.
” For a moment, the chaos surrounding the workshop disappears, and the only thing hanging in the space between us is the weight of my brother’s admission.
This is it.
This is the part where she tells us we’re all unhinged and storms out of here. I mean, she can try. I have zero intention of letting that happen. The universe would have to personally intervene to keep me from running after her, because there’s no fucking way I’m letting her go.
When she says nothing, my heart almost comes to a complete stop, but then Zane steps forward, brushing an arm across Phoenix’s shoulder as he moves, reminding him that everything will be okay.
Zane is the calm in our brotherly sandwich, and without him, who the hell knows where we’d be. Jail is a strong contender.
He stops just short of Shiloh, gazing down at her all predator-like, and I can feel the connection between them ripple as she leans back, gazing up at his mask with wide, angry eyes.
It's a good thing that the radiator works, because it has melted some of the frost off the windows, allowing the cabin’s porch light to shine through.
Zane lowers his head, his voice dipping into that lethal register that always has me eating out of the palm of his hand, and judging by the look on Shiloh’s beautiful face, she doesn’t know whether to get on her knees or run for the hills.
He's reading her, taunting her, coaxing that little demon that we all know is buried deep within her, out to play.
“I’m going to count to ten, Little Doll,” he murmurs, every rasped word borderline threatening, “and you’re going to run as fast as you can because, baby, if we catch you, we’re going to fuck you, and once you take all three of our cocks…
” He pauses, savoring the tension building back up between them, and Phoenix and I don’t dare say a word.
“You're never gonna want to let us go.” The air between us hangs heavy in the silence, humming with heat. Phoenix stalks across the workshop, Shiloh’s hungry eyes never once breaking away from him as he kills the radiator.
“Ten, nine, eight...” She doesn't even flinch as Zane begins his countdown, and a mix of uncertainty and unease creeps across her face.
“You’d better run, Little Doll,” Phoenix says as he swings open the door.
Such a gentleman. Shiloh’s eyes bounce between each of us, wide with panic as she contemplates whether or not she’s in this with us.
She can lie to herself all fucking night if she wants, but she can’t lie to us.
She wants this. She’s going to love every fucking second of us filling her, and finally taking what has always been ours.
“Three, two….” Before he finishes, she pushes herself off the wall and bursts out of the workshop like her perfectly round ass is on fire.
“One,” he says, and I can hear the unmistakable triumph beneath his words as he takes off after her, with Phoenix and me close behind, eager to chase down our good girl.