36
So this is it, then.
The end.
Not of the world or my life, but of our story, of hope if he doesn’t let me in.
I thought I finally found the answer when I toured that house. Extra space, locks on all the doors and windows, even a reading nook if I decide to get back into it. All designed to do one thing: convince me I can be happy without them. I won’t get kicked out for having an attitude, for not being good enough, for wanting something they’re not willing to give.
It was probably my last chance.
I’m not a freak. I just fell in love with them.
So I guess that makes me a freak.
And now, for the second time, my sexsomnia disorder isn’t what’s doing me in. The voice in my aching chest screams “LOVE ME,” not “LEAVE ME ALONE.”
Stupid traitorous heart.
So, I drive to Asher’s once again. I practiced my speech over and over again on the way here, but it still doesn’t do anything to prepare me for the dread I feel as I climb his front steps and knock.
What if Blair lied this time? What if they really don’t want me?
I try my best to avoid the peephole, ducking just out of sight of it until the door swings open.
But the second he sees it’s me, shock overtakes his gorgeous features, and he stares at me like I’m a ghost. “Rhea... you came back.” I swear he stops breathing entirely, his grip on the door tightening as he whispers, “Why?”
Here it is. This feeling is so familiar it’s almost painful — my heart hammers in slow motion as I work up the courage to once again bottom line it for him. The answer hasn’t changed. But the meaning behind it? The hope, the love, the fear? That’s entirely new. “Because I need you.”
Releasing that breath, Asher’s hand wraps around my throat as he tugs me in. His mouth crashes into mine violently, desperately, and the whimper he releases when his tongue slides into my mouth tells me everything I need to know.
Blair wasn’t lying.
He loves me. This sick, twisted bastard loves me... and I love him.
But I also want to kill him at the moment.
Pulling back from the kiss breathless, horny and overheated, I smack the hell out of his shoulder. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snap. “You dump me in some stranger’s house and then don’t talk to me for two months?”
Confusion settles between his eyebrows as he regards me, his lips finding mine once again like I didn’t just yell at him for his silence, but when I pull back this time, he lets me. “We were waiting for you,” he replies. “We were waiting for you to come home. It had to be your choice, Rhea. And you’ve chosen.”
Ash lifts me off my feet and carries me inside, my gaze locked on the outside world behind him as it hits me this might be the last time I ever see it.
No. Not this time. Things will be different, they have to be. “Not so fast. We need to talk before I decide anything.”
“Talk?” He sets me down, pulling me in by my hips as his face dips down for another kiss. It’s like he can’t stop himself. “Okay.”
He kisses me again before I can attempt a conversation, and this time it’s Manson’s voice that pulls him back to the present. “Rhea? What’s going on?”
When I meet his gaze I find it laced with pain, pain that I hope to take away soon. “First, I need you to go open the door and prop it open. I need to know that if we can’t come to an agreement, you’ll let me leave.”
Manson does what he’s told without argument, so I wrap my hand around the back of Asher’s neck to pull him into another kiss. God, it feels so good to kiss him after all this time that I’m not sure I’ll ever stop.
He deepens it with a growl, hands gripping just under my ass so he can wrap my legs around his torso, and I feel him losing himself more with each passing second.
I want to let him, but I wasn’t kidding. We have to talk.
Breaking the kiss one more time, I get back on my feet and take a step back to face them both, but Manson swoops in to pick up where Asher left off.
These goddamn boys.
My stomach is alive with cocaine-addled butterflies and my lips are sore by the time we’re all sitting at the dining room table. I’m exhausted from driving and just want to go to sleep, but I need to know that we’re all going to be on the same page.
“First of all,” I start, blushing under the intensity of their attention. “Fuck you very much for the last two months. I get why you did it, and maybe it was even necessary. But the next time either of you get the idea that I’d be better off away from here, just fucking say something. Okay?”
Manson throws a scowl Asher’s way and bumps him with his elbow. “Okay?”
To my complete surprise, Ash actually looks sheepish. “Yeah, okay. That’s fair.”
“Spent all this time apart and she wanted to come home.” I’ve never seen Manson angrier with Asher, only confusing me more. “The whole fucking time.”
“Alright,” Ash growls. “I get it, I fucked up. I’ve already admitted I fucked that all up, I — I’m sorry.” He stares into Manson’s eyes until he nods, then rounds on me to take my hand, his tone softening. “I’m sorry, Rhea.”
What?
“You... you didn’t. He did,” I argue, nodding at Manson. “He made me go.”
“Bullshit,” Manson hisses. “Don’t pin that dumbass decision on me. I told him we needed more time, and he convinced me that the only way we’d ever know it was real was if you came back on your own.”
“And she’s here,” he argues, holding out his hand when Manson tries to argue how long we’ve all been apart. “Yeah, it took longer than we hoped but are you going to tell me you wouldn’t have waited forever?”
That gets Manson to pause.
Asher set me free.
Not the one with the soft spot, like I’d assumed. Asher. Possessive, controlling, vindictive Asher put me and what I want above himself.
Somehow, that makes it better and worse all at once.
I glance over to the propped-open door and remind myself that the past doesn’t matter. Everything that happens from here forward is a choice — my choice — and I don’t have to apologize for anything.
“We need to figure some things out before I officially agree to come back,” I remind them gently. “First, I spent all this time thinking you let me go because you didn’t want to love me. That you decided being in a happy relationship wasn’t working. I know now that’s not the reason you let me go, but is there any truth to it at all?”
“No,” they say in unison, Manson continuing before Ash can. “Not at all. The difference between us was I knew we deserved the happiness you gave after all we’ve endured, and Ash is convinced he doesn’t.”
Asher frowns, his fingers tightening around mine. “That’s not entirely true,” he admits. “I mean, yeah, I don’t deserve your love, but that’s not why I insisted we let you go. Whether I deserved it or not wasn’t a factor. I just needed to know it was real, and I had to give you a chance to choose or I might have never fully believed it... because I had already fallen for you. Truth is, I didn’t want to love you, but I did. I still do, and I’ll wake up and choose you every single day to show you it’s true. It won’t be perfect, but please... choose me too. Choose us.”
Such pretty words from a pretty devil. I wish it were that simple.
“Tell me something, each of you. If I come back, what does our life look like? Don’t sugar coat it or say what you think I wanna hear. I’m not saying I’ll even agree to everything you say, but I want to know in a perfect world if you get everything you want... what does our day to day look like?”
They share a look before Asher responds. “How it looked before we set you free. The difference would be a collar and handcuffs wouldn’t be necessary because the fear of you leaving wouldn’t be here. But we still want you to be only ours, to stay home and let us take care of you financially while you take care of us in other ways.”
“We’re open though—” Manson rushes out— “if there’s something about that you don’t like. We want this to work for all three of us, so if you want date nights out or some shit we’re not against it.”
What they’re offering is the best of both worlds. I honestly expected to have to try harder to get it.
“And what if I told you I wanted the collar and cuffs? What if I told you that feeling trapped without actually being trapped makes me wet?”
Both of them tense, Manson excitedly and Asher hungrily, but their pleasure radiates off them in waves. “Really?” Apprehension laces Asher’s tone, his fingers cutting off circulation with how tight they’re gripping me, so I smack the top of his hand to get him to let me go.
“Yes,” I say firmly. “But you don’t decide when or for how long. I do. You will add my thumb print to the door locks here so I can come and go as I please... and you will both have trackers implanted too.”
“You want to track us?” Manson asks, amusement lining his face. “Why?”
I meet his gorgeous eyes and say simply, “Because. You belong to me, too.”
That makes them both smile. They’re so beautiful it hurts, especially like this, and the fact that my step-brother is looking at me this way makes me blush. “I agree,” he replies. “But there is something else I’d like to discuss. Punishments.”
The little brat in me wants to argue and remind him that I’m perfect, but I know I’m not. If they can make concessions, so can I. “I’m listening.”
“So you’re not opposed? Because I might lose my mind if I couldn’t punish that bratty little mouth of yours.” He’s staring at my mouth like it’s taking all of him not to kiss me again, so I lick my lips slowly to punish him a little.
“You can punish me. But I get a safeword, and I also get to punish both of you.”
They share a dark look, ultimately nodding. “What’s your safeword?”
“Spooky. Yours?”
“Can it be the same?”
Asher blushes in a way I’ve never seen before and I know it’s the vulnerability that has the blood rushing to his face.
Manson takes his hand. “No. It should be unique to all of us. Mine is river.”
“River? Um... okay.” He scratches at his head for a moment. “What about phantom?”
Trying to remember three is going to suck, but we’ll get there. Hopefully they won’t be necessary often. “Phantom, river, and spooky. Got it.”
Nodding, Asher squirms in his chair slightly. “Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Manson adds. “What kinda punishments are you thinking for us?”
“The kind where you get edged repeatedly for breaking our deal in any way, and the kind where if you hurt me without my permission, I get to hurt you back.” I’ve thought about that one a lot. I like the pain, I do, but on my goddamn terms. “Issues with that?”
To my surprise, both of them agree. I guess this time apart wasn’t the worst thing in the world, even if it felt like it at times. “We’re yours, Rhea. There isn’t a thing you can say now that will change that for us.”
The fact that it’s coming from Asher’s mouth — my hateful step-brother — makes me certain I did the right thing. We were made for each other.
“Good. Now pick a day of the week. Any day.”
“For what?” Manson asks, just as Asher says, “Sunday.”
“Okay,” he chuckles. “Sunday. For what though?”
I smile a little, I can’t help it — I was hoping it would be a weekend day. “Every Sunday, I’ll be your slave. Dick holding while you pee, wait on you hand and foot, do whatever you want. But the rest of the week, we’re equals.”
Manson agrees instantly, but I’m actually glad Asher seems hesitant. It means he’s being honest with everyone here, and that’s what we’ve been needing. “I agree we should be equals, but what if one of us needs a little more control on a day that isn’t Sunday?”
“Then you ask,” I say gently, reaching over to take his hand again. “I can promise you one day a week. That doesn’t mean that I’m unwilling to be what you need the other six days. I just have the right to offer an alternative if I’m not in the right headspace.”
Relaxing, he lifts my hand to his lips for a kiss. “So you’re home? For good?”
If they meant even half of what they said here, I can live with it. And before the night is through, I’ll make sure my thumb print is on the door so I’ll have an escape route if I need one, I just don’t think I will. We’ll make it work this time, the three of us. Broken in our own little ways, we fit together to become something new, something more.
Nothing will change that.
“Yeah, big brother. I’m home.”