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Hurt flashed across his face. He straightened in his seat. “I get it. You want to infuse guilt into me. You’ve already decided that I’m guilty, haven’t you? And now you’re hoping to push me into making a confession.” He looked around the room. “You all really think I did this? Seriously?”
“Actually, no,” said Vinnie. “So help us scratch you off the suspect list and consent to Bree’s offer of help.”
Calvin frowned. “She doesn’t want to ‘help’ me. None of you do. And I won’t lie, it hurts like hell that my own pride mates—some of whom are my own family—would proclaim me guilty unless proven innocent. It should be the other way around. I should at least get the benefit of the doubt from people who supposedly care for me. Jesus, this is insane. And you know what? Fuck you all.”
Vinnie sighed. “Calvin—”
“No, if you want to believe I did it, fine. Pin it on me. But just know you’re not the man I thought you were. And, apparently, I’m not the man you thought I was. Because anyone who truly knows me will be damn sure that I didn’t do this.” Calvin set his jaw. “So, as I said before, fuck. You. All.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alex and Bree didn’t get back to the cul-de-sac until after 9pm. Once his parents heard what happened, they’d rushed over to Vinnie’s, intent on checking on Bree. It hadn’t surprised Alex that his mother had cooked dinner for everyone—it was her way of taking care of people. He suspected she did begrudge cooking for Vinnie, though.
Tate had taken Calvin home hours before that. Vinnie had questioned him several times, but the cat’s story never changed. He didn’t add anything new, and he didn’t agree to allow Bree to “help” him either.
Sitting beside Alex at the dinner table, Bree hadn’t spoken much and had often looked lost in her own thoughts, but no one had called her on it. They’d given her emotional space while also rallying around her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone.
Alex had tried to convince her to stay in his apartment for the night, but Bree refused, stating that no one would scare her out of her own home. And so Alex would stay there with her as he usually did. There wasn’t a sliver of a chance that he was leaving her alone.
As she and Alex approached her house, an enforcer stepped out of the shadows. “Bree, Alex. I need to do a walkthrough of the house before you go inside—Tate’s orders.”
Bree pulled her keys out of her jacket pocket and tossed them to the male, who then slipped inside. Mere minutes later, he returned and verified that the house was empty.
“Thank you,” said Bree, taking her keys back from the enforcer. He nodded and melted into the shadows.
Alex followed her into the house and closed the door. “You head upstairs.” Because she looked like she was ready to drop. “I’ll make sure everything’s locked up.”
He half-expected her to argue. Instead, she simply trudged up the stairs. It worried him, but it also demonstrated a trust that warmed him. It was no little thing for someone like Bree to trust that another person would ensure her territory was secure.
He walked around the house, checking that the windows and doors were locked. The necklaces had been removed from the kitchen counter, just as Vinnie had assured him.
Alex walked into her bedroom, frowning as he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed staring into space. He crouched between her spread thighs and rubbed her calves. “Come back to me.”
“I’m here.” It was a flat whisper.
“No, you’re not. You’re a million miles away. I know it’s easier said than done but shove all the shit that’s going on to the back of your mind, or you’re never gonna sleep.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “Come back to me.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, the dazed look had disappeared from her eyes.
“That’s my girl.” Determined to distract her and make her forget everything for just a little while, he got to his knees and flicked open the top button of her blouse. “I’ve been wanting to do that since you first fastened it this morning.”
Her stomach clenching, Bree watched as he opened the next button. And the next. And the next, his gaze intent on each bit of skin he revealed.
There was no urgency in his manner. No sense that his control was fraying. He clearly had no intention of rushing this. And she knew she was going to get “slow and gentle” tonight. Knew he probably thought it would be the best way to help her wind down. But he was wrong. She wanted fast, hard, and rough. She didn’t voice that, though, because he’d be less likely to give it to her, the teasing bastard.
