Chapter 11
Iglanced in either direction down the street before crossing between the gaps in traffic, coming to a stop outside the storefront where I was supposed to be meeting Dacre.
A plan had been forming in my mind every time I stepped inside Dacre’s art studio. And it had solidified once I’d realized the true depth of Byron’s dismissal of Dacre’s talent.
The art Dacre created was incredible and the world deserved to see it.
And after talking to Arena, we were determined to make it happen. So long as Dacre wanted it too.
Looking to my left, then my right, I studied the people on the sidewalk, looking for the one person I knew would brighten my day just by seeing him.
Instead I saw someone guaranteed to ruin it.
Across the street, leaning against a doorway between a cafe and a florist, was Boston. Because of course he was fucking here right now. How did he know I’d be here? Only Arena knew about this place, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to inform my violent stalker.
The fact that he was somehow managing to access information about me sent a tremor down my spine.
Boston looked extra imposing today in the stiff black leather jacket and black jeans. Maybe it was easy to rip people’s heads from their bodies in an outfit like that. His hard stare was trained on me, just like it always was whenever he turned up uninvited.
Our gazes locked and I swallowed down the sizzle of fear I’d come to expect at the sight of him.
Why was he doing this?
Clearly the threat that my stepbrothers had laid down that day he showed up at the house was working enough to keep him at a distance, but not enough to keep him away from me entirely.
I didn’t understand what his plan was. To stare me into submission?
Or was he eventually going to escalate? Was he biding his time and waiting for just the right moment to snatch me off the street?
A tremor of fear skittered down my spine at the idea.
It would be so easy for him to stroll over here and even easier for him to overpower me.
The guy was ninety percent muscle. Even if I trained in the gym everyday with Dacre from now until eternity, I didn’t have a hope in hell of fighting off a guy built like Boston.
If he had a car nearby, he could have me thrown inside and be speeding on the motorway on the road to Seattle in a matter of minutes.
No part of me wanted that. I was never going to willing go back to Seattle to play house with him like a good little bride. Everything I knew about Boston told me that he wanted to own me. That any life I had with him would be one filled with violence and fear.
There were only three people in this world I’d ever willingly belong to, and Boston Ivers wasn’t one of them. I wanted him to forget I ever existed. I wanted him to leave me alone and go back to his life and forget that our farce of a marriage had ever happened.
Tearing my gaze from him, I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm my now racing heart.
“Hi Bambi,” Dacre said as he approached from the opposite direction.
Startled, I jolted, and Dacre’s brow pinched with concern. “Are you okay?”
He went to take a step closer, but I stilled him with a shake of my head.
As much I desperately wanted the comfort of his arms and his reassuring words as he stroked my hair and kissed me, we were out in public on a busy street where anyone could photograph us.
We had to play the role of stepsiblings out here, nothing more.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I forced out a smile. “You just startled me, is all.”
I shot a furtive glance over his shoulder at where Boston had been. He was still there, leaning against the doorframe like he didn’t have a care in the world. But those dark eyes that were locked on me told a different story.
I glanced away before Dacre noticed what had caught my attention.
I knew I should tell him that Boston was there, but the guilt I felt at bringing yet another complication into our lives, and the worry I had that Presley, Dacre, or Sin would do something stupid and get themselves killed had me biting my tongue hard.
This was my problem. I had to find some way to fix it before it hurt the people I cared about most. I just had no fucking idea how.
Dacre’s phone rang and he shot me an apologetic glance, before pulling it from his pocket. “Give me a second?”
I nodded, gaze following him as he took a few steps away to answer the call.
Don’t look back at Boston.
Don’t look back at Boston.
Don’t look back at Boston.
Despite the command to myself, my gaze travelled back across the street.
Boston hadn’t moved an inch, and I scoffed to hide the uneasiness inside me.
A small part of me wanted to march over there and demand to know what the hell his plan was.
But the fear that had thrummed through me at being close to him in the parking lot after swim practice was all too fresh.
So I resolved to stay on this side of the street with Dacre.
Folding my arms across my chest, I stood rooted to the spot, staring back at him. His brow twitched infinitesimally, like he was amused at my show of defiance.
Our gazes held, and for a moment the busy street failed to exist. I couldn’t work out if it was fear that was driving me or something else entirely.
An old lady bumped into Boston, drawing his gaze and fracturing the tension between us.
He glanced down at her, bending to collect something she must have dropped. When he stood tall, he handed her the bag she’d lost. She thanked him, and the world titled around me as he smiled down at her.
He smiled down at her.
All I’d seen from him were narrowed stares and intimidation that had me permanently on edge. Yet this man, known to be one of the most brutal enforcers in Seattle, stood on the other side of the street, smiling down at an old lady who’d bumped into him.
He was beautiful when he smiled.
The thought hit me like a high-speed train, and I recoiled.
It didn’t matter if the statement was true.
Boston would never be anyone except exactly who he was—a brutal, violent man intent on taking the light in the world and snuffing it out with his bare hands.
My light included. But I’d go kicking and screaming until my lungs gave out before I’d allow him to take me away from Sinclair, Dacre, and Presley.
“You okay?” Dacre asked, standing in front of me now with worry pinching his expression.
I swallowed hard, sucking in a deep breath and nodding. “I’m good.” I forced a smile and motioned to the building behind me. “You ready?”
“Sure am.”
Moving to the lockbox attached to the front door, I put in the code the commercial broker had sent me, pulling a key from the box and unlocking the door.
Stepping inside, the place was dark, so I reached for the light switches on the wall.
But before I could, strong arms tightened at my waist from behind, followed by the sound of the door slamming shut.
I instantly relaxed into Dacre now that we were alone, my back pressed to his front.
The anxiety I’d felt seeing Boston again faded from my mind when I was in Dacre’s arms.
His mouth dropped to my ear. “How do you manage to look so fucking beautiful every minute of the day? It makes it really hard for me, Bambi.”
I grinned, twisting in his arms. “I love it when you’re really hard.”
His eyes darkened, narrowing on me. “Is that why you wanted me to meet you here? So we could get it on in public?”
I laughed, shaking my head.
He pulled me in so I was flush against him, his body pressed to mine. “Because I’ll never get enough of you. I’ll follow you anywhere, and take you wherever you’ll have me.”
Emotion bloomed in my chest. I’d always considered Presley to be the biggest softie of the three of them, but Dacre just kept that side of him a secret, hiding it from everyone but me. And the idea that I’d become that safe space for him made my heart soar with so many feelings I could barely name.
I pressed my lips to his, everything I was feeling flowing between us. His tongue slid into my mouth, making my toes curl as I clung to him.
“This really isn’t helping the whole hard thing,” he muttered, and I glanced down between us, my smile widening.
“I’d apologize, but I’m not at all sorry for wanting you.”
He grinned back at me, pressed a quick kiss to my mouth, then released me.
“I’ll never apologize for the way I want to you either.”
He glanced around the room we were standing in, taking in the high ceilings and white painted brick walls. It wasn’t huge, but felt cavernous and impressive.
“So, why have you brought me here?” he asked, taking my hand and sliding his fingers between mine.
Dacre was tactile in a way that surprised me, though it shouldn’t. He was an artist. He created things with his hands every day. Moulding and feeling and connecting were his communication tools, and he was no different with me.
“Well…” I started, suddenly feeling nervous that he was going to hate the idea I was about to lay out for him. “Arena and I have rented this space for a month, and we need something to do with it. We were hoping you might be able to help us out.”
His brow pinched. “You want me for free labor to help you set something up in here? You didn’t need to bring me down here for that. You know the answer is yes, I’ll always help you with anything you need.”
He brought my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.
“No, I want to help you.”
His eyes locked with mine, his confusion evident.
“I want you to turn this space into a gallery and hold an art event.”
He stilled, his mind clearly working over what I just said. Then he turned back to the room, surveying it in a new light.
“We wouldn’t need to do much. The space is already perfect for an art gallery. We’d need to hang your works on the walls, obviously. And then install some better lighting to showcase the individual pieces, but the rest is already good as it is.”
He didn’t say anything, so I went on.
“Given Arena is studying business and event management, she’s agreed to help with catering and overseeing the construction of whatever we need. She says it’ll be great experience for her. Not that she needs it, I know what she can do and she’ll make this event amazing.”
He was still surveying the room, his demeanor filled with hesitation. I stepped in front of him, taking his face in my hands, and his gaze fell on me.
“Your art is incredible, Dacre. You need to share it with the world.”
He shook his head and my hands dropped to his shoulders.
“I can’t do it,” he said, tone filled with defeat. “Byron has never supported me being an artist. He tolerates it because I agree to keep it as some kind of dirty little secret. He’s never going to allow me to go public with my art, especially not now that he’s making a play for Governor.”
Frustration reared inside me and I huffed out an annoyed sound. Not at Dacre. At the father who had failed his son. Byron had drilled into Dacre for years that art wasn’t a valuable pursuit, one he’d never make a career out of or make any money from.
Like the Astons needed any more money. They were richer than God.
Byron had crushed Dacre’s artistic heart. And I hated him for it.
“Don’t let Byron dictate the things that make you happy. You can do this, Dacre. You need to do this. Your art has the potential to change people’s lives, it needs to be seen.”
He didn’t answer, just stared back at me, lost in his own head.
An idea sparked in mine.
“What if we don’t say it’s you?”
The look he gave me was full of questions.
“What if we Arena hosts an art show by a new up-and-coming artist. No one has to know the artist is you. The world gets to witness what I do every day in your studio, and Byron doesn’t lose his asshole mind because his son dared to be exactly who he is.”
I failed to keep the bite out of my tone with that last statement.
Dacre reached for me, hand gliding over my hip to pull me against him. “Why would you do all of this?”
I slid my hands around his neck. “I want to see you succeed because I care about you.”
A beat of charged silence passed between us as we stared at each other.
The words were right there, willing me to say them.
Because I love you.
I held back, biting my lip and getting lost in the intensity of his gaze.
Did he feel the same way? I hoped he did.
After the trauma I’d gone through at the hands of my father, and the endless relief I’d felt when I heard all three of their voices as I was being forced to board that plane, my feelings had shifted into so much more than sex, and attraction, and lust. I was connected to Dacre, Presley, and Sin in a way I didn’t truly understand myself.
That had to be love, right?
I just had no idea if they felt it too.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” Dacre said, tone filled with awe.
Happiness bloomed inside me as I stared back at the beautiful boy I called mine.
“Never hurts to hear it,” I said with a sly smile. “So is that a yes?”
He smiled back at me. “Okay, Sass. It’s a yes.”