Page 88 of Give Me Peace

“Since when does the county mow this far out?” I question, dropping back to my feet.

“Never,” Loch answers. “I’ll make a call. Maybe someone bought the lot without us realizing.” I snort. Not fucking likely. I make it my business to know who does what and when they do it. If we had new neighbors, I would have known about it by now. I remove the damaged camera, grateful we keep a few extras on hand just in case. By the time we go retrieve a new one, get it set up and resecured, half the damn day is gone.

Saylor’s sequestered in Loch’s office, having her weekly meet with Danielle, so we head to mine and Kash’s. I’m shocked to find him there, spinning himself in circles. He’s taken full advantage of the downtime we’ve had lately, not that he doesn’t deserve it.

“Little brother,” Kash coos, shoving a sucker in his mouth. I kick his chair aside and drop down, choosing to ignore his petty endearment. Wiggling my mouse to wake the monitor back up, I run the new camera to make sure everything’s working properly. The angle looked fine from my phone, but it never hurts to double check. Once I’ve cleared it, I rewind the feed from earlier, stopping a few minutes before it went out. After explaining to Kash what happened, the three of us sit back and play the recording.

It doesn’t take long for the culprit to make an appearance. Someone clearly went for a drunken joyride. I watch in amusement as a heavyset man tears through the brush across the street on a rusted lawnmower. It’s going way faster than it should, likely from being altered. He’s got a bandana wrapped around his bald head, wearing cut-off blue jeans that are far too short for someone with a nut-sack, and nary a shirt in sight. There’s a beer balanced precariously in one hand while he uses the other to steer. However, the pièce de résistance has to be the massive American flag he has attached the ass end of his pimped-out Snapper.

“Aw, look at the patriotic bastard.” Kash grins, propping his chin on his fist as he stares longingly at the screen. “You go, big boy. Wave it loud and proud. In Bud Light we trust!” I blink at my brother, curious what the official diagnosis is. There has to be a medical term or politically correct phrase I can use to call him a dumb motherfucker.

“Can we get one of those?” Kash ponders.

“Absolutely not,” Loch answers immediately. “You’d somehow manage to run your own fucking foot over and chop it off.” Kash grumbles in protest, but eventually comes to the same conclusion.

The feed goes black shortly after the man disappears from the frame. We watch it several times, but the frisbee never makes an appearance. My only guess is that it came from an angle that was out of view. At least we know what happened. Sadly, the twelve-hundred-dollar piece of equipment fell victim to a goddamn Florida-Man out spreading his daily dose of patriotism.

“I love this bloody country,” Loch laughs. “The entertainment is top tier.”

“I wonder if he drove around on the 4th with a Roman Candle, yeeting out fireworks like a badass.” Kash makes finger guns, complete with a sad, “pew, pew pew.”

And I’m done.

My brain could use a rest. Or maybe I’ll go jerk my cock in the shower while I relive the feel of Saylor’s cunt beneath my thumb, nothing but a thin pair of panties separating her flesh from mine. I beeline for the bathroom, needing to come a time or ten before I’ll be able to focus on anything else.

I knew she’d fucking ruin us. Yet here I am, eager and ready for the devastation. I can only hope it’s a beautiful decent to madness, because there’s no way any of us will be able to move forward after this. It’s Saylor or bust, so I pray like hell she’s planning to keep us.

Chapter Forty-Two

Saylor

It’s been a week since our cringe-worthy group sex discussion. I’ve yet to bring up our new dynamic with Danielle, and I’m not sure I plan to. But we did delve into Liam, specifically the day I went missing. It’s the first time we’ve ventured there. I gave her a play-by-play, breaking down the timeline of events that led to my abduction. She’s helped me realize how badly I distrust my own judgement now. I knew something was wrong; my gut was spot on, but I chose to ignore it. I overthink everything, which is likely the cause for my obsessive googling.

I’ve read through every article and blog post I could find on multi-partner relationships. It’s been…enlightening. But the main conclusion I’ve come to, is that there’s no one-size fits all. What works for some people, doesn’t for others. However, I was surprised to find it’s not as uncommon or taboo as I imagined. For now, I’m trying to trust the way I feel. It’s stupid to let my heart lead, but we’d never make it off the ground if my brain was in the driver’s seat.

I’ve been a little distant this week while trying to work through everything, but the guys have been great. They haven’t pushed for anything beyond a few kisses or hugs. I also had a three-day period, which was brutal. Kash brought me every chocolate concoction he could think of, along with a heating pad and his e-reader. Lochlan promised as soon as we were able to, he’d get me an appointment so we could discuss birth control options. I don’t have a lot to go off of, but I feel certain it’s not normal for a regular cycle to be so sporadic and painful.

Krew’s kept his word, taking every opportunity presented to tease me relentlessly. The first time, he cornered me in the media room. We’d been the last two to leave. I felt his breath against my neck, then his tongue and teeth. His whispered words were just as dirty as before, but the ache I left with had me pressing my thighs together for the rest of the night. Worst of all, he knows how affected I am. Every time he catches me staring, a wicked smirk carves across his handsome face.

Our most recent encounter happened in his and Kash’s room. I went to return the borrowed stuff Kash lent me, when out waltzed Krew, fresh from the shower, wearing nothing but a towel tied around his waist. I still haven’t decided if my timing was spectacular or a product of the worst luck ever. I turned to leave, but his hand slapped the door closed, effectively trapping me not only in the room, but between him an immovable surface. He made me stand there, staring at the wood grains of his door, while he pleasured himself.

Truthfully, I doubt I would have left if given the option to. I hadn’t even watched him, yet I was more turned on than I’ve ever been. The sounds he made, the way my name was spoken, low and guttural, as he came—it’s refused to leave my mind. Krew kissed my shoulder, wiped himself clean with the back of my shirt, and sent me on my way. Needless to say, his plan to drive me crazy is working flawlessly.

I’ve just wrapped up with Danielle when the door opens. I look up to find Lochlan smiling back at me. He pulls me up and sets me on his desk, taking the empty office chair for himself. I place my feet on his spread thighs, grinning as wiggle my toes up and across his abdomen. Lochlan grunts, twisting to the side when a hit a sensitive spot. With narrowed eyes, he clamps a hand around my ankle and starts tickling me ruthlessly.

“Mercy!” I squeal, laughing hysterically as I twist and turn to get away, but he refuses to let up.

“Oh no, sweetheart. You’re the one who started this,” Lochlan taunts, gripping my knee with his other hand. He digs his fingers in repeatedly, making me scream for help.

“I’m going to pee!” I shout as a last ditch effort.

“Go ahead, love. I won’t think any less of you.” His smirk is downright devious as he doubles down his efforts. When Lochlan finally relents, I flop back, panting like I’ve just run a marathon. He strokes the arch of my foot, using the perfect amount of pressure. I’ve got my eyes closed, enjoying the impromptu massage, when I feel his lips ghost across my ankle. He kisses his way up my calf, stopping at the inside of my thigh to bite down lightly, then soothes the slight sting with his tongue. I gasp, arching my hips in invitation.

“You beckoned, princess?” Roan barges in, severing the moment. Lochlan eases back, appearing nonplussed at the interruption. I tilt my head, meeting vibrant green eyes and my favorite dimpled grin. Roan hovers above me, sparing my and Lochlan’s position a brief glance before focusing on my face. I’ve tried my best to avoid situations like this, to respect his boundaries. “Need some help, Little Fighter?” A rush of air leaves me at his teasing tone.

“Ro, did you know our girl squeals like a stuck pig when you poke and prod her just right?” My eyes widen comically at Lochlan’s innuendo-filled question. Does he have an idea how out of context that could be taken? The twinkle in his honeyed gaze says yes, he certainly does, and he’s enjoying the hell out of making me squirm. Roan chuckles, using the spare hair tie on his wrist to wrap my hair in a knot. He has a serious fascination with rearranging the long blonde strands however he’d like.

“I wonder what she’d do if I got ahold of these piggies?” Lochlan steadies my foot and grips my little toe between his fingers. “Which one goes to the market?” He cocks his head to the side, like he’s trying to remember the way the saying goes. Nope. No thank you. My mother subjected me to that particular torture quite enough for one lifetime.