Chapter Nine
After this weekend with first Saint and then Keaton and Banks yesterday afternoon, I spent hours with Lawrence in the studio. I confessed that I was a little spooked the night before during the storm and couldn't shake the feeling. He offered to let me come to the pack house, but I turned him down for the sake of what I've got to do today. The same reason I didn't ask him to stay with me either, even when I really wanted him to. For no other reason than not wanting to be alone. As he'd pulled away, I turned all the outside lights on, made sure all the windows and door were locked and curtains were pulled closed. Taking extra precautions, I'd slid one of the chairs from my small dining set under the door knob and booby trapped the stairs, deciding to sleep in the loft on the couch to be safe. If anyone came in during the night, they'd definitely have a hard time not making any noise trying to get to me. Especially in the dark. I promise myself as I wake for the fifteenth time in the middle of the night that I'm going to talk to Saint about security.
In the light of day, I can't help but think of what a fool I'd been. Scared witless of a shadow during a storm. So badly that I'd turned my tiny house into a death trap. This morning I'd tripped over the stuff I'd forgotten I'd left on the stairs and almost took a tumble down them. Seriously, walking weenie over here.
By the time that I'm leaving my house, I feel like a complete idiot. The rain finally stopped sometime during the night, allowing the sun to come out from behind the clouds this morning. I soak up the rays on my face before tugging my jacket tight against me and setting off down the driveway. Not for the first time this week, I wish that I had my car. If I did, I wouldn't be having to walk to the bus station to take it to where I'm going. It'd take about three hours less too. Any one of the pack would've given me a ride in a heartbeat, but then I would have to explain my darkest secret. I'm not sure I'm ready for that just yet.
So, instead, I take a leisurely stroll to the bus station, buy myself a ticket, and wait patiently reading a book until my bus is ready to depart. It takes five hours one way, because it stops at so many different depots trading passengers. Mine is a straight shot, so I don't bother getting off.
As we roll into my final stop, I'm already exhausted and the worst is yet to come. I hail a taxi from the depot and have them take me to the State Correctional Facility for the Criminally Insane. The driver, of course, looks at me like I've lost my mind and should join the people behind the doors inside, but he doesn't know the half of it. I pass him his bills, giving him a little extra even though it won't change his opinion of me.
Once inside, I have to go through multiple checkpoints where I'm forced to leave my jacket and all belongings in a basket for retrieval when I leave. I have to go through multiple body checks to make sure that I'm not bringing in anything illegal. Even though the women are required to search other women, I still feel like my skin crawls where they've touched. It makes me miss my pack more than ever.
It takes a little over an hour to go through checkpoints and be ushered into a room where he already waits for me.
"I didn't think you were going to make it today," Dylan says.
I roll my eyes at his dramatics. "You know it takes forever to get through checks to get in here."
He laughs, reminding me of the old days of the person he used to be. That's all gone the moment that I sit down across from where he's restrained to the table with long chains. He takes a deep inhale, and his eyes go black like a shark. "Who's the alpha that's scent marked you, Darci?"
"That's not your concern, Dylan," I tell him. Not thinking about the fact that he would pick up on that. "How are you holding up?"
He leans back in his chair, chains rattling as he moves. "As good as can be expected in here. I haven't heard from the parentals lately, though. They stopped coming to visit me. Don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Mom would always try to put me through one of her psych evals, and Dad would sit there like the obedient little lap dog he always is listening to her nonsense babble. Do you still talk to our parents, Darci?"
I choose my words carefully as I always have to with my brother. "Sometimes. Not as much as I should."
He nods as I speak. "Probably a good thing. She'll try to have you locked up in here with me if you're not careful."
"Dylan," I start, wondering if I should say what I'm thinking. It's been known to be a trigger for him. "You took the life of four girls."
He's shown no remorse for it. In all the years after he was convicted and found guilty of first-degree murder of all of them. Evidence plain as day. Even a confession from his own lips. He's never once said he was sorry. Even now, the words seem to excite more than sadden him.
"You're right, sis," he mumbles, dropping his eyes to where his thumbs are working around each other in circles. "Maybe she had her reasons for helping lock her only son away from the world. You don't know what it's like in here. People are crazy, and some of them have a sick obsession with playing with their own shit. If I'd had my knife earlier this week, I would've slit the throat of one bitch who had the audacity to smear her filth on me."
That's where his switch flips. I can see it in the way that his posture and expression morphs. His back goes ramrod straight, and his pupils dilate until they appear completely black. "I miss it, Darci. They make it impossible to fulfill your destiny here. No one will listen when I tell them that it was what I was put on this earth to do. Cleanse it of the filth."
Then, just like that, it flips back off and he slumps in his chair. "I'm tired, sis. I think you should go. I don't want to visit anymore today."
I want to tell him how much time it took me to get here to him today, but it won't matter. Dylan has always been selfish. It's only gotten worse over the years when he thinks that the world owes him something.
"I love you," I tell him. I don't think a sister ever truly stops loving her brother. Even when he's done something as horrible as mine has.
He doesn't say it back, though, his back straightens again as he brings his gaze up to meet mine. "Don't go fooling around with alphas, Darci. The world could use a few less in it."
Threat noted, but not taken seriously. What the hell does he expect to do from behind a locked, padded cell. More than anything today, his threats against Saint have touched a nerve. Something I never let him do. Not bothering with a goodbye, I leave the room. Maybe I won't come visit next month, or the one after that. Treat him like Mom and Dad are doing and pretending that he doesn't exist. Maybe then he'll come to appreciate the things I do for him. Probably not, but I certainly don't have to subject myself to this abuse every month.
I collect my things from the basket and walk outside. Taking three deep breaths, I release them into the universe, letting go of this visit. Like I do every time. Maybe if I stop trying to forget them and remember his ungratefulness, I'll come to my senses and make good on the thought of stopping my visits.
Taking out my phone, I make the second worst part of my day happen. He answers with his normal quiet tone on the second ring.
"Hey, Dad. I just got done visiting Dylan. Can you come get me?"
Hours, and I do mean, hours later, I'm finally back at my house. The literal only good thing that came from today was that I brought my car home with me. Now, I don't have to make the decision to walk at night or call someone for a ride.
After my dad picked me up from the hospital, we drove to my childhood home, the whole while he was saying that we shouldn't mention to my mom what I was doing. He told me that she thinks that being cut off from his family is the only thing that will help him by having to accept his actions and reach out for help. I'd rolled my eyes, and of course, got into an argument with her as soon as Dylan's name got mentioned. Thankfully, it was after my psychiatric evaluation that she forces on me once a month. Having to sit for an hour with her while she picks my brain to see if I'm going to turn out to be a psychotic killer like my brother is bad enough. Throw in her being pissed and it's an absolute nightmare.
As if all of that hadn't been enough, my very alpha mom had picked up Saint's scent first thing and given me the fifth degree on who he was and how I shouldn't accidentally throw my life and hard work away for an alpha. Of course, my classes didn't count into that because wanting to be a radio disc jockey is absolutely despicable to a woman with a doctorate in psychology. How dare I not follow in her footsteps? And how dare I throw away my trash dreams on an even bigger trash dream like falling in love or having a pack. It's always been just her and Dad, who's a beta. She says that she understands the whole omega thing, because it's all just science after all. Yet, she knows nothing outside of a textbook about actually being an omega.
Even still, hours later at my own home, I'm still raging at my family. Maybe Dylan won't be the only one that I skip visiting next month. Let her take her own psych evaluation and determine if she's the actual problem or not. I growl in frustration as I pull at the top of my hair. If anyone were to see me right now, they'd probably think that I am crazy.
I'm in an angry state that's leaving me feeling restless, all the while not wanting to do anything at all. I hear sirens in the distance, and my mind immediately goes to Banks and Keaton. Are they on that truck? Are they okay?
Taking out my phone, I shoot a text to both of them asking if they're on duty tonight. Lucky for me, they're not.
Keaton's name shows up as he calls. "Hey, pretty girl. We were just about to make a run to the store to get stuff to make for dinner if you want to come with us. That includes dinner, too, in case you're wondering."
Just like that. Three sentences from him and I'm already feeling better. "Sure, but I'll meet you at your house."
"Don't be walking," he warns. "We can swing by and pick you up."
I snort softly. "I picked up my car today, so I won't be walking."
"Okay, good," he says. "See you soon, then."
"Okay, bye," I tell him.
As soon as I hang up, I gather the stuff that I'll need for classes tomorrow and a change of clothes. I don't think that a single one of them will mind if I crash at their house tonight. Especially if I tell them I'm not comfortable sleeping here alone right now. Besides, after the long-ass day I've had, I really need some kind of positive human interaction. I need them. The revelation doesn't scare me like it might've a couple months ago. Instead, it makes me move faster getting all my stuff together and put into my car. Locking up behind me, I jump in and head toward their house.
I haven't even made it out of my car yet before Banks is rushing out their front door to come around the car and open mine. He barely lets me step out before he's picking me up and spinning me in a circle.
Taking a deep breath, he sets me on my feet, but doesn't step away. "Why do you smell like that?"
"Like what?" I ask.
His brows furrow. "Like another alpha."
"My mom," I confess. "I went to visit her and my dad today. It was really pleasant. I brought back my car, though."
"Want to talk about it?" he offers.
I shake my head slowly. That's the worst thing I could possibly do right now. "You know what I really, really want? What I've been craving all day?"
"Hmm?" he murmurs, pushing strands of hair back away from my face and looking like he's ready to hand me the world if I ask for it.
"Cuddles, food, and maybe a glass of wine," I tell him, ticking them off on my fingers. "And not necessarily in that order."
"All easy requests, baby. We've got you," he promises, dropping a kiss to my lips.
He wasn't lying, either. After a short trip to the store for the things we needed for steaks and baked potatoes, Banks grilled while Keaton held me in one of their chaise lounge chairs. I nursed a glass of wine while they had beers. When we ate, it was outside.
I go to pour myself one last sip of wine, and Keaton teases, "Should we call limits right now? Too much more of that and you'll be losing your keys and clothes again."
I laugh, bringing the glass to my lips with a wink. "Maybe I want both to happen."
Banks sputters on his beer before quickly recovering. "You want to stay with us tonight?"
"Can I?" I ask, trying to keep the pleading from my voice.
He immediately agrees, but Keaton catches more than I want him to. "Is everything okay? Is there a reason you don't want to go home?"
I shake my head, even though it's not the truth. "I don't want to be alone tonight. I'll sleep on the couch so no one has to give up their beds or anything."
"Like hell," Banks growls low. "You can stay with one of us, or both of us if you want to. Whatever you want."
I look between them, knowing I'd never be able to choose. "Both."
It doesn't take us long after that to finish off our drinks and clean up after ourselves. Bank's takes my hand, leading us up to the second floor to the door next to Keaton's. When he opens it, it's as I'm expecting from him. Nice and tidy without a speck of dust out of place. Nothing stands out in it at all, either. It's just a normal dude's bedroom that smells like the best part of summertime.
Surprisingly, he doesn't take the lead once we've locked ourselves inside. Keaton makes the first move, coming up behind me and sliding his hands around my waist, slipping them beneath my shirt. He lifts it over my head and drops it to the floor before letting his mouth fall to the naked skin of my shoulder.
Opening my eyes, I don't find Banks where I left him. Instead, he's sitting on the edge of the bed watching us. Add a new kink I didn't know I had to the list. Him watching us turns me on faster than if he was over here with us. I lock eyes with him as I undo my bra and let it slip to the floor. His eyes stay locked on mine until I finally submit and look away, only then do his drop to my chest where Keaton is now kneading my breasts and rolling my nipples between his fingers. One of his hands traces a path down my belly until it reaches the top of my pants. Going between licking and sucking on the skin between my neck and shoulder and reminding me of what a beautiful woman I am, his hand slips down beneath my jeans and into my panties. Leaning my head back against his shoulder, I whine as his fingers find my clit and he starts rubbing it in slow circles.
Next thing I know, there's a sharp tug on my jeans, pulling them down my hips without them even being unbuttoned. My thin cotton panties don't stand a chance, either, as Banks yanks them down, too. Keaton parts my lips for him right before Banks buries his face between my legs and starts licking and sucking to no end. I want to spread my legs and give him better access, but my pants around my ankles won't let me. A whine leaves my throat as he mercilessly devours me, driving me to the point of riding his face as Keaton keeps me from collapsing.
I can feel slick running down both legs where it's seeping out of my opening, begging for his attention. Banks laps at it greedily. I'm so close to coming that when Banks pulls away, I whine again, pleading with him to come back.
He drops his attention to helping me take off the restraints around my ankles. His hands massage my legs all the way up to my thighs, making my eyes roll back in my head. The strength behind his large hands is almost my undoing. I'll see if there's any way to convince him of a full body massage later.
When he stands and grabs the bottom hem of his shirt, stripping it off, I grab the button on his pants, closing the distance between us. I help him out of his jeans the way he just did for me, only a little too late do I realize he's gone commando. As soon as I get his pants past his hips, his cock springs free. Another first for me since I've never taken anyone in my mouth before, but damn the way that I want to right now. I can't get on my knees because I'll be too short to reach it, so I just bend over instead, licking the bit of precum on the tip and taking him between my lips.
He groans, but he's not the only one. Keaton, from behind me, skims a path with his hands up the back of my thighs and across the globes of my cheeks. Leaned over in this position, I know that he can literally see everything. Point proven when one of his hands drops back down to my clit. His thumb begins a slow, torturous assault as he slips two fingers inside of my slick-leaking hole.
I make a sound like a hum of approval, wiggling my hips toward him. Banks grabs the back of my head as he starts slowly retreating to the bed, taking us with him. When his knees hit, he collapses on his back, keeping his hand fisted in my hair. This position makes me feel like he's given me all of the control. I love it. Humming around him, I suck him down as deep as I can take it before slowly pulling him back out, using my tongue to play with him.
Keaton pulls away, and I almost whine to get him back. He just doesn't give me the chance to. His fingers are quickly replaced with his cock as he slowly works himself inside of me. The time it takes him is like pure torture and makes my toes tingle. I try to push back on him, but he's got my hips in a tight grasp, controlling us.
Once he's all the way in, he starts moving, and I swear, I see stars. It feels so good, and I'm trying to breathe through my nose to keep Banks in my mouth. I suck him harder the higher I feel myself climbing. I glance up at him through my lashes to find his eyes flicking from where we're joined to where Keaton is now pounding into me. We lock eyes, and that is my complete undoing. I tighten my fist around the base of his cock, feeling his knot starting to swell as I take him all the way to the back of my throat, gagging from the sensation, but loving it all at once. My body clenches down on Keaton. I can feel it pulsing around him as his hips stop thrusting and his cock starts twitching inside of me.
I squeeze even tighter around Bank's knot right before he starts squirting hot liquid into the back of my throat with a groan. I drink it all down greedily before letting him go with a pop.
"You are so damn perfect," he says, reaching down to pull me on top of him. Keaton crashes beside us out of breath, throwing an arm across my back.
Between the long emotional weekend, the wine, and the soft rumble of his purr that starts up, I fall right to sleep where we lay.