His words smack into me, the truth cutting deeper than I want to admit. Maybe I’m afraid of what will happen when the walls come down. What happens when I show her what I’ve become since she left—the broken pieces that still ache?
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice steadying, though my heart races. “I know. I’ll—I’ll do it soon. But first I want to have a discussion with you guys.”
Nash raises a single eyebrow, the question clear as day. Doesn’t stop him from voicing it though. “What the fuck could possibly be more important than helping Raina?”
“Exactly,” I respond, thoroughly throwing him off. “Meet me in the recording studio. I’ll gather the others.”
An ominous creak stutters from the hinges like a warning as I step out the front door. I’m instantly smacked in the face with a strong gust of salty air. There’s no avoiding it with the stormy winter weather blowing through. Spring can’t come soon enough.
Squinting my eyes against the mist hanging in the air, I immediately scan the surroundings, every nerve in my body tingling. There’s another one of those camera fucks out here, I know it.
With how many I’ve run off, I can’t believe we never had a single one last time we were at the house. Although back then Tristan was doing all their hard work of making her life miserable. Now, her fuck of an uncle is laser focused on wanting to eliminate her in any way possible.
Which includes slipping her address to the paparazzi. It’s the only explanation of why they’re here. I want to think I can protect Raina from them, but I’m only one person.
Maybe I should hire a security team to watch the house…
I move forward, my shoes scuffing along the sand on the driveway before I step onto the lawn. With a glance at the gray clouds covering the sky, I can’t help but long for the sun. Especially when I can’t shake the feeling that someone lurks right beyond my sight. My fingers tighten into a fist, my fingers almost aching to reach for my sticks. That would be dangerous right now though; there’s no guarantee I wouldn’t use them to stab an eye out instead of breaking one. I’m so sick of them invading Raina’s privacy. She deserves to recover at home without worrying about who might be staring into her windows.
I round the corner, and there he is—a figure crouched by the back stairs, a long-lens camera poised to take a picture at a moment’s notice. He might as well be holding a weapon. My heart stops at the thought, and I freeze for just a second, absorbing the panic that it brings me.
There’s no doubt about it; Raina owns my heart. I fucking love that woman, and I’d do anything to protect her.
Not on my watch, I think to myself, moving forward with purpose. Each step is deliberate, my feet barely leaving a mark in the sand. I know this ground well; it’s Raina’s sanctuary, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone invade it.
He doesn’t see me yet, too focused on whatever moment he’s waiting to capture. Tension coils in my gut, tightening with each heartbeat. What does he want? A glimpse into our lives? A stolen memory to sell to the highest bidder? Some moment he can spin to look like Raina is doing drugs again? I won’t give him that power.
As I approach, I spot the garden hose where I left it the last time I had to chase off a photographer. I reach for it, my fingers curling around the cold metal nozzle. It fits comfortably in my grip—nothing like my drumsticks, but those won’t do in this situation.
Drawing my phone out of my pocket, I send a quick text to the group chat, and wait for someone to turn the water on. Honestly, I should start recording this. I bet Raina would get a kick out of it. Maybe I’ll get the first laugh out of her this week.
With the haptic vibration of a responding text, I finally announce my presence. I twist the nozzle of the hose, feeling the cool metal bite into my palm. The rush of water erupts with a fierce hiss, shooting out in a frigid arch. Time slows for a heartbeat as I aim it squarely at the intruder.
The freezing spray hits him full force, and his startled gasp is drowned by the water, but his expression is everything. If I’m honest, it brings a small shred of enjoyment.
He stumbles backward, eyes wide as he drops the camera, its expensive lens clattering against the wooden stairs. Panic etches across his face, a mix of shock and fury flickering in his gaze.
“Are you insane?!” he yells, desperately trying to shield his equipment. But the water keeps coming, relentless, washing away any semblance of bravado.
“Get lost,” I order, my tone hardening like steel. No hesitation, no second chances. I take another step closer, continuing to hose him down, making sure he’s drenched for his trek to whatever vehicle he came in.
With a final sputter, he cradles his camera to his chest and turns on his heel, muttering curses under his breath as he retreats, soaked to the skin. His footsteps kick up sand as he hurries away, stumbling over the uneven terrain. I can’t help but watch, every muscle tense as he disappears behind the corner of the house. The shadows swallow him, leaving only an echo of his presence.
I twist the nozzle on the hose and drop it at my feet for the inevitable next time I need it. I’ll have to remember to turn the water on before I check the property in the future. Right as I take the first step leading to the house, the sound of footsteps drawsmy attention. It’s a familiar cadence, yet it carries an urgency that pricks at my instincts. My body instantly coils like a spring, prepared for whatever might come next.
“Keaton!” The voice slices through the tension, smooth yet laced with something deeper. I don’t need to look back to know it’s Tristan. His steps are hesitant, but there’s determination behind them, an unspoken demand for my attention.
My thoughts flash to a night not long ago where we got in a fight over the way he spoke to Raina, making me even more wary of what’s to come. He hasn’t explained his disappearance yet…
I grunt in response, not bothering to voice a word. Not for him. Not when he thought it was okay to treat us the way he did.
“Can we talk?”
About fucking time.
His request hangs in the air, thick with everything that’s been left unvoiced between us. I slowly turn to face him, seeing the way his brows knit together, a storm brewing behind his blue eyes.
“Now?” I ask. I want to press forward, to challenge him, but there’s a vulnerability in his stance that pulls at something deep within me.
