Chapter 17
Dallas
I left as soon as he fell asleep. His bed was too goddamn comfortable, and I didn’t want to face him in the daylight. I’d see him when I was dressed, in my element, and armored, not naked, in his house, and with Anna-Katherine down the hall.
My head feels light, the exhaustion sweet.
Rain drips from my hair and from Callum’s white T-shirt, which I stole when I left. I grip the wheel harder, the hum in my fingertips persistent.
He always felt like that, didn’t he? Tight and soft, and I just wanted to graze every inch of his body with my lips.
And I already want more. His dick was tenting the sheet when I left, and I couldn’t fucking believe it. I wanted him in my mouth again.
I should’ve let him wake up to a blow job, but it’s best to keep him wanting. He hasn’t grown up that much, and if I continue to play him just right, he’ll surrender. He’ll call off the fucking curfew, and I can probably get another favor or two out of him for my family’s sake.
Propping my elbow on the door, I rake my hand through my hair.
Why did I tell him about my grave?
And about my mother?
He knows more about me than anyone.
I mean, it worked. I bared it all, and he gave in to me.
Fucking him wasn’t in the plan, though. I just saw him with Anna-Katherine last night, and I saw myself, thirteen years old and on the stairs.
Except he went to her when she cried.
He took care of her. He made the right decisions, and it made me wanna…
I shake my head. I don’t know.
I wanted him to feel good, because I know what it’s like to be facing someone who’s hurting, and I hated that feeling, too.
It’s helpless and confusing and stifling, because you’re waiting for the next explosion, living your life around a time bomb.
Why did I give a shit if he felt good?
I pull up in front of my house, quickly taking inventory of the cars to see who’s home while I also force myself to push Callum Ames out of my head.
It doesn’t matter. He’s a good fuck, so I got something out of it, too.
Opening my car door, I slick back my hair and run to the front door.
The house is quiet, and I look up the stairs, seeing the hallway dark.
They’re all still asleep, a small blessing. I don’t want to talk right now.
Heading across the living room, I approach the kitchen, seeing damn near everyone around the kitchen table, and halt. Army’s still in his uniform as he stands at the entrance.
What the fuck? “What are you guys doing?”
Grazing their faces, I see my sister draw in a breath at the sight of me, Aracely rolling her eyes as she leans against the fridge with her hand on her hip.
Trace crashes into me, enveloping me in a bear hug.
Is he crazy?
I shove him away. “Get off.”
The last time we hugged I was eight and he was seven, and he was drowning. I had to haul his ass back to shore.
“Where the hell were you?” Iron asks.
Were they waiting for me or something? I didn’t get any calls. But I pull out my phone to double-check and see it’s dead. Shit.
“Hiding out,” I reply sliding it back into my pocket. “Like you said.”
“You couldn’t call?”
“I was busy.”
I guess it should’ve occurred to me that they’d worry, but I trusted them to stay safe. Army said to find someone we were sleeping with to hide us, didn’t he?
I pull off the wet T-shirt and stroll across the kitchen, tossing it into the laundry room before grabbing a mug and the coffee pot.
No one says anything, and I hood my eyes. Okay, I should’ve gotten in touch. What if they needed me? Fuck.
“Well, how did it go?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
Turning around, I lock eyes with Iron. “They had no idea,” he assures me. “We moved two trucks of liquor to the storehouse at one a.m., crashed on cots till…”
I wait, watching him glance to Army.
What’s wrong?
“Till?” I press.
Then it hits me. I search the room again, my heart skipping a beat. “Where’s Macon?”
Army glares. “Do you care?”
I rise up straight and whip my mug against the fucking wall. It shatters, coffee splashing across the pantry door as my siblings sit up, suddenly alert.
I’m sick of people saying that. “Where is he?” I bite out.
Army clears his throat. “Milo Price hit about three parked cars, because he was driving so drunk, on his way over here last night,” he explains. “He guessed Krisjen was alone.”
I dart my gaze in the direction of the stairs. Where is she?
Milo was taken to Fox Hill. I heard Callum order that. “Army…”
“I heard about it on the radio,” he points out, “alerted Macon, who didn’t give a shit he was being deliberately baited.”
“Cops saw him hit the streets after curfew and went after him,” Iron adds.
What?!
I open my mouth, and Liv must see the look on my face, because she speaks up. “They’re both upstairs, Dallas. Relax.”
Then fucking lead with that! Dammit!
I grind my teeth together, and I don’t know why I’m so irritable. If anything had happened to my brother or sister-in-law, they’d all be freaking out. Someone would be in tears. Probably Trace.
Jesus. I rub my tired eyes and rake my hand over my scalp.
“He was able to evade the cops,” Iron adds. “Don’t worry.”
I shoot a look at Army for worrying me like that.
Iron sips his coffee. “He made it back shortly before we did.”
And what was I doing while all this was going on? I ignore the scent of Callum still in my nostrils and swipe the shards of ceramic off the floor. Dumping them into the trash, I start to leave the kitchen but halt in front of my brother. “What the fuck is your problem?” I ask Army.
“Dallas…” I hear Liv interject, but I don’t care. Every other day, I let the shit roll off, because I don’t care to spend the time defending myself, but I’ve suddenly got steam to blow off. I should’ve just stayed in bed and blown the golden boy this morning.
“Where were you?” Army growls. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“Army, he did what he was supposed to do,” Iron chimes in.
“The bare minimum,” Army retorts. “Per fucking usual.”
I shrug, smiling. “If giving it my all means projecting my own fucking failures on the only people I’ve got, then, hey, I can be just like you.”
“Dallas!” Liv yells this time.
I step straight up to my older brother. “I wish we could switch lives,” I spit out. “I can’t get the people I screw to stop falling in love with me, and I’d give anything for them to run away like they do with you.”
Army grabs me, the table legs scraping against the floor as the others mobilize. “Goddammit, Dallas!” Trace bellows.
“Army!” Liv scolds.
They rush into action, Army’s eyes spitting fire.
But Aracely makes it to us first. She throws her arms between us, trying to push him off. “Look at his face,” she tells Army.
It takes a minute to remember my fight with Callum. I haven’t looked in a mirror, but I register the bruises. The ache around my eye.
“He wasn’t having a party last night any more than we were,” she snaps at him. “Stop it.”
Liv is there, helping push him off, and I leave.
Someone catches my arm, and I almost whip myself out of their grasp, but I see it’s her.
“We were worried,” she whispers, everyone returning to their seats at the table. “We…”
We love you, she wants to say.
It’s the same look of hesitation that he had on his face that morning I dropped him off at his car and his father was waiting.
It was in his eyes, though. All the words he wanted me to hear.
I knew then that he wanted me more than anything, and I’d made a mistake.
My sister knows better, though. My family doesn’t say things like that to me. They know I wouldn’t know how to respond.
I walk up the stairs, hearing my mother crying as I sometimes do and feeling so heavy. I need another shower and a drink. And the beach in the rain sounds good, too, but…
Being alone doesn’t feel appealing, either.
At the top of the stairs, I see Macon’s bedroom door open, the soft little sobs becoming clearer. It’s not in my memory. Someone’s crying.
Inching forward, I take them both in, Macon sitting on a chair and Krisjen straddling him. She presses cotton to his face, her chest shaking with tears she tries to hold back as she nurses his cuts and scrapes from the fray he got into trying to make it home last night.
He slides his hands up her thighs. “Baby, I’m okay.”
She nods, her expression like a child’s who’s trying to keep a straight face.
I watch her dab the cotton pads, soaking up the small amount of blood, and a pang hits my chest.
“You won’t be left alone again,” he tells her.
She swallows, and I can tell she’s trying so hard to prove she can be his wife and be strong, because last night wasn’t the last scare she’ll ever have.
“I’m not scared for me.” She trembles, leaning in. “I love you so much.”
I blink as he takes her face in his hands, my brother’s constant rage and steel for so many years giving way to tenderness and devotion to a woman he never thought he’d be lucky enough to call his own.
They kiss, almost melting together, and then she wraps her arms around him. “Can’t you just stay home all the time?” she whimpers.
I falter, my stomach knotting.
He laughs, and she laughs, and they start making out with full force.
Lifting her into his arms, he stands up and kicks the door closed behind him, taking her to bed, no doubt.
My parents looked like that sometimes. Macon and Army were old enough to remember a lot more, but their love was strong. Too much passion, and it killed my mother, because she didn’t survive losing my father for long.
Drifting into the bathroom, I leave the light off and wet a washcloth. I’m glad Macon has her. I like seeing him happy.
Dabbing the cloth, I clean my scrapes myself.
—
Something tickles my chest, rising up my neck and landing on my lips.
I jolt, opening my eyes. Callum hovers over me, my sheet covering my bottom half as I lie naked in bed.
Glancing around, I notice Iron asleep on his stomach in his own bed, the ceiling fan rocking a little as it spins.
Darkness looms out the window, but the gray sky tells me the sun is close to rising.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.