Chapter 45
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The boys started fighting right as I got to the hallway. I stand there, frozen, listening. I honestly can’t tell which one is which, as they’ve both changed clothes. I think Axel has the glasses on today, based on how they’re acting.
Gage lands a shove on Axel. Their voices get snarly, and Axel starts beating on Gage, and suddenly, I’m a kid again, afraid as Dad beats my ass. Buddy scrambles to the kitchen.
“No!” I try to stop her, but it’s too late. She jumps between the men with no worry for her own safety.
Then, Axel notices me. His eyebrows jump up for the quickest second. Then Gage turns around.
I stare at him for a second. Just long enough that he knows I heard and saw them. The confrontation scares me, but for some odd reason, I stand there and take the gamble that they won’t hurt me.
Both men just look at me, then Gage says, “Raven…”
I turn on my heel and stalk away.
I’m gone. I dart back to my room, Buddy scrambling behind. My limbs feel numb, and I’m amped up. What are they doing? Not chasing me. Not hurting me. Not threatening me.
It feels odd.
My dad would have beat my ass if he caught me overhearing a conversation like that.
But they don’t come storming after me. They also don’t come in trying to whine their way back into my good graces, like Max would.
I stare at the door in confusion all day.
How the fuck am I supposed to play this game if I don’t know the rules?
There’s no lashing out for snooping?
Come to think of it, neither of them lashed out when I fought them either. Just moved me from one place to another.
And Axel never touched me, even when I was under him on his bed.
All day, I roll their fight around in my head. I realize I don’t know anything about these men. Who’s their dad? And who’s Rich? What the hell happened to them?
I think about it all day, and all day, I don’t get answers. I also try not to think about how Gage defended me. Why would he do that? What does he want from me? Is it just my silence?
I’m so tired trying to figure it out that I pass out for a little while on the floor. When I wake up, Buddy is there next to me, tail thumping. For a second, my heart races, and I scan the room.
I’m alone.
Nothing bad has happened.
Yet. It’s only a matter of time, right?
As the shadows trace across the room, I get antsy waiting for the bad thing to happen. I know it’s waiting around the corner.
I jump when I hear the clatter of pots in the kitchen, then shake out my hands. I’m tired of waiting. Tired of wondering what they’re doing to sabotage me. I’ll make an excuse to go out and see.
I call Buddy with me and open the hallway door.
I don’t see either of them.
So I stalk down the hall, head high, with Buddy beside me. Axel’s in the living room, lounging on one of the couches, and Gage is in the kitchen. Both turn to look at me.
I just glare, moving to the bookshelf under the grandfather clock. I snatch up a book, then stalk back to my room, heart thumping.
When my door shuts, I watch it.
But neither of them comes to bother me.
“What the fuck,” I hiss, pacing the room.
I hear the men moving around, their low voices grumbling occasionally. I hear the grandfather clock chime every fifteen minutes.
The house doesn’t get quiet until around ten in the evening.
It’s the longest day of my life. I’m simultaneously tired and jacked up. The longer I wait for something bad to happen, the more pissed I get.
How dare they put me in this position? How dare they?
The clock goes off twice—once for each fifteen-minute interval, and I still haven’t heard movement.
I’m boiling over with rage. This isn’t fair. None of this is fair. I want them to pay.
I’ve been turning an idea over in my head all evening. It’s a stupid idea, but it eases the rage inside me.
I have a way I can make them pay.
Finally, I can’t stand the silence any longer, so I grab the spray bottle I got from the grocery store and creep to the door.
Opening it, I check the hallway. Gage’s door is closed.
There’s one more door at the end of the hall.
I assume it’s another bedroom. There’s no sound from it.
Buddy follows me, and I thank whatever gods there are that the hallway is carpeted.
Still, I want to shush her loud breathing.
There’s also no one in the living room.
A mixture of fear and victory turns my stomach.
I grip the bottle, pain tweaking through my hand. If Gage asked, I was going to tell him it was for my hair. But he didn’t ask.
When I move to the kitchen, Buddy huffs excitedly.
“Shhh,” I hush her, opening the fridge and getting out the milk. I pour it into the bottle while Buddy dances on my toes. She must think she’s getting a snack.
Then, I move to the living room—the living room full of carpets and plush couches.
And I start spraying. I have to use my left hand because my right thumb is still out of operation, but I spray the misted milk over every soft surface I can find, including on the velvet curtains hanging over the big glass windows.
When I’m done with that, I move to the kitchen again.
Buddy yips, going to her food bowl.
I stop and listen. The house stays quiet.
Slowly, I slide the freezer open and grab the bag of shrimp that I got from the store.
Is this petty? Yes. But god, it feels so good.
The curtain rods are too high for me to reach, so I have to carefully drag one of the ottomans over. Standing on that and on my tiptoes, I can just reach the end of the curtains. Gage has the rich-person curtain rods, the hollow ones with a fancy bulb screwed on at the end.
I unscrew it, then rip open the bag and start stuffing as many shrimp in as possible. Frozen shrimp juice drips off the edge of the curtain rod, and that just makes me want to laugh.
Slowly, the stress rolls off me in waves. I won’t be taken advantage of. I’m not a victim. Well, I guess technically I am, but I’m not helpless. I’m gonna get my money and get out. Then I’m going to leave the country. Or at least, maybe go somewhere remote like Alaska.
Fuck, Alaska? I don’t know if I can handle the dark winters…
Rustling plastic breaks me out of my thoughts. I glance down, and Buddy is rooting around inside the shrimp bag.
“No!” I jump down, yanking her head away. She still tries to wolf it down, and I have to wrestle the food away from her.
Good god.
I try to put the bag up on the top of the couch, but Buddy just jumps up to get it.
“No! Down,” I hiss, bringing the shrimp back to the freezer.
That’s when Buddy starts hacking. It’s a deep, throaty sound that echoes in the quiet and sends a shiver of fear through me.
“Are you okay?” I rush over. Buddy’s now vomiting onto the carpet.
“Ugh, no, I’m sorry, girl.” I rub her back as she vomits up shrimp and mushy dog food.
Once she’s done, she wags her tail and tries to eat it again.
“No!” I pull her away.
“What’s going on?”
The light flips on, and I yelp, jumping and turning to see one of the twins in the living room. He rubs sleep from his eyes, and he has no glasses on. And no shirt on.
My mouth dries up looking at his chest. It’s muscled and trim, and his skin is damn near glowing. My gut instinct says this is Gage, but I’m not sure. They look so goddamn similar.
“Uh, nothing.”
Buddy keeps trying to lunge behind me to eat the puke.
He frowns.
“Buddy got sick,” I say, looking behind me to see if the evidence is still out. Other than the ottoman being moved, the end of the curtain rod is on the back of one of the chairs.
The flash of concern on his face convinces me this is Gage. He pushes forward, feeling around for Buddy.
“Hold her; she’s trying to eat it. I’ll get towels.
” I rush into the kitchen. I don’t want Gage to see the barely chewed shrimp in her vomit.
That’ll raise more questions than I have time for.
When I get back, Gage has pulled Buddy outside.
While he’s distracted, I grab the bulb of the curtain rod and shove it as far into the crack of the seat as I can. Then, I start cleaning up.
“You don’t have to do that,” Gage says.
“It’s fine.” It’s not. The vomit reeks, but I don’t want to get caught.
“No, seriously.” Gage leans in, hands brushing mine.
“I’ll do it.” He grabs my left hand, stilling my motions.
His grip is firm, and instantly, I lose control of my movements.
I suck in a breath, and automatically, fear rushes in.
Then, Gage gives me a gentle squeeze and lets me go. He actually lets me go.
Then common sense rolls out the window, and instead of just fear, arousal also hits me. I turn to look at the man crouched beside me to find he’s already looking at me, too. He’s close enough that our faces are almost touching.
His face gets pink.
I find myself staring at his lips. His lips that are so fucking close. His slightly puffy, blush lips.
Gage’s breath brushes across my face, and I realize I’ve stopped breathing. What is wrong with me?
I scramble back, trying to get my wits about me again. I motion at him. “Your, uh… your knee is in vomit.”
“Shit.” Gage pulls back. He tries to wipe the vomit with paper towels and only succeeds in smearing it. Then his face twitches, and I see him trying to hold back a smile.
“You gonna let me do it now, or are you just gonna make it worse?” I try to sound gruff. Because why did I think about kissing him earlier? Something is certifiably wrong with me.
Gage laughs then. A full-blown laugh comes from his chest, and he shakes his head. “Probably just gonna make it worse, princess.” He throws a look at me that, for some unknown reason, makes me blush.
I get to work cleaning again to avoid the feeling. When I’m scooping up the last of the paper towels, Gage asks, “Couldn’t sleep?”
My mind blanks for a second until I can get it working enough to say, “Buddy had to go out.”
“Oh.” Gage stands in the living room, staring at me again. He’s looking serious, and it makes me uncomfortable.
“Look, for my part, I’m sorry.”
My immediate reaction is to scoff and back away. But after I do those things, Gage is still standing there. He looks genuine. Genuine and fucking hot. Why the hell did he have to take his shirt off?
I don’t have time to respond when a voice cuts in, “Well, well, well. What are you guys doing?”
I jump and look past Gage. Axel stalks into the living room.
Nope. This is my cue to leave. “Actually, I was just going to bed.”
I try to brush past Gage, but he reaches out and grabs my arm, gently pulling me back to him. “You don’t have to leave just because of this asshole.” He raises his voice, looking beyond us. “Fuck off, Ax.”
“Ax?” Axel looks confused for a second. Then his brows draw down in anger. “What are you trying to pull?”
There’s a confused silence for a bit, then Axel says, “I’m Gage.”
I blink, looking between them. Did I mix them up? Again?
The one holding my arm stiffens, his nostrils flaring. “Cut it the fuck out, Axel.”
“You know what, you’re a dick trying to confuse her like this.” The newcomer stalks across the room, reaching us. “Sorry, Raven. He’s an asshole.”
I blink, confused, trying to grab onto any defining characteristic. The newcomer has a shirt on, but otherwise, they both have the same white hair, handsome faces, and pale eyes.
I thought the one holding my arm was Gage. I was convinced it was, but Axel has fooled me before. In the library.
The library.
I glance at the chest of the one I thought was Gage. There’s nothing there. Shaking my arm out of his grip, I whirl on the newcomer and point my finger in his face. “Take your shirt off.”
There’s a flash of something in his gaze. Surprise, maybe?
“Take it off,” I grind.
He hesitates, then shrugs and pulls his shirt off with one hand. I stare at his chest, trying to ignore the ripped abs and muscled chest that is now right in front of me. And there, on his sternum, is a small cut. It’s almost healed, but it’s still there from when I cut him in the library.
The newcomer is Axel.
I shove him back. Hard. Anger hits me in a hot wave. How dare he? How fucking dare he, after all he’s done?
Axel grins then, looking like a Cheshire cat. “What’s the matter, little bird?”
“Fuck you! I fucking hate you.”
A hand grabs me and gently pulls me back. “I’ll take care of this.” Gage’s face looks angry, with a line between his brows.
“No.” I try to pull away from Gage. I’m tired of being fought over in some kind of pissing contest. This is just a game to Axel. He just wants to keep me away from his brother. To get control over the one woman who doesn’t want him.
And I’m so sick and fucking tired of men taking control over me.
Suddenly, a plan flashes through my head. It’s a stupid plan, really. A horrible one. One I should definitely run the other way from.
Instead of overthinking it, I whirl on Gage and kiss him.
I have to get on my tiptoes to reach his face, and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him lower.
At first, he’s stiff, then he melts into me, ducking his head so I can reach him and letting me have his mouth.
I know Axel can’t see well, so I kiss him loudly, going at him hard and forcefully, biting down on his bottom lip until Gage opens with a gasp.
He lets me, submitting to what I want to take from him.
I kiss him to prove a point, but I find myself drawn to him like a magnet. He feels fucking good.
I force myself to rip away, looking at Axel, and what I see there makes everything worth it. There’s a mix of rage and shock on Axel’s face. His skin is red, and his nostrils are flared.
“Now, if you’ll get out of the way.” I slide my hands down Gage’s chest and down his arm, grabbing his hand with my left hand. “We’re going back to bed.”
Then, I pull Gage past Axel, pulling him down the hall to his bedroom.