~Chapter 4~
M y little flower drifts off to dreamland, and something warm and fuzzy fills me. She’s so pretty. So perfect. So fucking cool.
She’s a prickly little cactus- kind of like the picture she used on the kink app- but I don’t shy away from pain. I quite like it, actually.
But, I know she’s skittish, as well. I’ve promised Even that I would be on my best behavior so I don’t scare her away. Still, I hate being away from her for long. Which, today, turns out to be a good thing. I waltzed in twenty minutes ago to check on her and found Stu nowhere in sight. I know Charlie is out back swimming, which is odd since it’s 55℉ outside. The water’s gotta be way too cold; but to each his own.
I peer down at Beatrice, my precious flower, as I continue to swipe a cool, wet cloth across her forehead. Her nose scrunches adorably as she leans into the fabric and hums under her breath. That little noise causes my cock to stir, and our night at The Raven Room replays through my mind. She was, and still is, utterly intoxicating. And mine .
A euphoric scent wafts through the room, and I smile as I continue my rhythmic strokes; cleaning off the sweat from Bea’s face. “Hello, my Love. How was work?” I whisper, just loud enough for him to hear me. He was off doing recon on another target, so he’s been gone most of the day.
I hear him shuffle into the room, a groaning sigh escaping him as he settles into the chair by the door. “Good. Fine. He’ll be easy to take down. It only took him an hour to seek out Blaze. He left with a ridiculous amount of drugs. I almost took him then, but there were too many people around. He’s got another meeting in a couple of days.” He explains with a blasé tone, likely busy watching Bea and not really caring about the mission.
I nod, letting him know I’ve been listening, but don’t comment. There’s nothing to say, and honestly, I’m more than content watching Bea over the assholes we frequently track down.
We lapse into a comfortable silence as we watch over our sweet and sassy guest. Well, not currently sassy, but she’ll return to herself soon enough.
After a few minutes, Even shuffles somewhere behind me. A crinkling of paper catches my attention, and I turn my head to look over at him over my shoulder. Even’s bent over, reaching for something on the floor in front of him.
“What’s that?” I inquire while resting my palm on top of Bea’s tiny hand.
Even’s face is pulled into a deep scowl as he sits up and straightens the crumpled paper. “I don’t know. It was lying under the bed.”
His eyes scan the paper back and forth quickly. I watch with rapt attention as his brows deepen, his eyes flash with pain and anger, and his usually tan skin lightens. He looks like he’s going to be sick.
“Even, Love, what is it?” I implore, slipping from the bed and making my way to him. Squatting down in front of him, I rub my hands up and down his thighs, trying to coax him out of whatever trance he appears to be in.
The paper in his hand shakes lightly, and I can see the vein in his neck pulsing. “I. I can’t...” He trails off, shaking his head in disbelief. Swallowing heavily, his eyes meet mine over the paper. Slowly, he tilts the page toward me, silently encouraging me to look at myself.
As I grab the paper, Even hoists me into his lap, my back against his chest, and nuzzles his face into my neck. It sets me on edge because he rarely seeks out comfort. He gives plenty of it when I or others need it, but he rarely searches it out for himself.
With a quick kiss to his forehead, I shift my head back to the paper in my hand. It takes me a while for the words to make sense. I have to read the letter three times before it becomes clear. Beatrice wrote a letter to Stu…saying goodbye… forever.
My stomach churns with anxiety and…rage. So much rage. I feel my face contort from pain-filled to menacing. She can’t just leave us; leave me. She’s perfect and strong and smart and sassy. What was she thinking? Did something else happen? I mean, we stopped the last bastards from raping her, and she handled herself beautifully before then. Shit, who gouges out someone’s eye in self-defense? She’s a fucking badass! The world needs her. I need her!
I turn and slide my hands onto Even’s cheeks; his soft, full beard feels so good against my palms. I have to actively focus on not thinking about the dirty, dirty things I want to do to him.
His eyes are glassy, and I can tell he’s moments away from letting the tears fall. With a soft kiss, I prod his firm, thick lips with mine before leaning back. “She didn’t. She won’t. She’s here, and we’ll help her; together.”
Even’s brows fold down, likely seeing how close my beast is lurking. His mouth opens, but-
Bam! The sound of the sliding glass door ricocheting in its tracks vibrates through the hall. I’m surprised it didn’t shatter from the force. The sound of rushing and heavy footsteps distracts us from the letter still in my grasp.
Quietly, Even and I both lean over to peer out into the hallway in time to see a soaking-wet Charlie with a towel wrapped around his waist. His brows are drawn into his signature scowl, but I see something else reflecting in his eyes. I don’t have time to question him as he tromps past the room without so much as a cursory glance.
Leaning back, Even and I share questioning looks.
Like we're of the same mind, we both scuttle to our feet and run out of the room. I don’t make it three feet before I freeze; my feet unable to move as I take in the sight before me. Even barrels into me, grabbing me by my waist so I don’t topple over. Our chests are heaving, and the sounds of our heavy breathing are the only sounds that I can hear as we watch Charlie’s broad form squatting on the bathroom floor.
The growly rumble of his voice barely penetrates the silence as he begins whispering something. The perfect sculpted muscles in his back, shoulder, and arms twitch and flinch as he leans forward. With a low grunt, he moves to stand.
Even and I watch as Charlie slowly and meticulously adjusts something near the crook of his arm before he turns sideways to move out of the bathroom. That’s when we see the pink mop of hair.
He knows. Poor fucking Stu knows.
When Charlie squeezes his large frame through the door, Even and I immediately jump into action. Stu’s either passed out or entirely out of it. Either way, he needs to be in bed. Even turns and heads down the hallway in front of Charlie and leads the charge upstairs to Stu’s room. I bring up the rear, beelining into the kitchen for a bottle of water, before meeting them in Stu’s room.
When I walk in, Stu’s eyes are closed, but it’s obvious how swollen they are. His face is red and clammy, and there seems to be an imprint on the side of his face; from the bathtub ledge, by the looks of it.
Glancing up, I look at Charlie to figure out if he knows. It would explain the pool laps and how he seemed to know precisely where Stu was; knowing he needed help. But, he has the best, blank face I’ve ever seen. Although, his eyes are almost unfocused as he stares at Stu’s form.
His body, on the other hand, tells a different story. His fists clench, unclench, clench, unclench. The muscles in his pecs and arms ripple with every movement, and his jaw bulges from the sides, where he squeezes it shut. Fuck… if he read the note…Cammy.
My eyes go wide as I try to subtly get Even’s attention. He must feel my gaze on him as he quickly snaps his head from watching over Stu to pinging his eyes between mine. I see it the moment he puts it together. His confused frown forms into fear, and his skin becomes pale. His head quickly whips over to Charlie; likely scanning him the way I did, searching for any clues that Charlie has read the letter.
Charlie sucks in a deep breath, closes his eyes, and releases it before stomping back out of the room. His door kicking shut echoes down the hall, leaving Even and I cloaked in silence.
Well, shit, this just keeps getting worse, but one thing’s for sure: Our little family is falling apart, and it’s up to Even and I to keep us together.