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A determined glint shades Paul’s eyes. “I’m in.”
I point a finger at Deacon. “Whatever happens…no matter what is said…do not tell Lilah my true last name.”
“Why?” he asks slowly.
Sighing heavily, I answer, “Because this is Tomahawk.”
Chapter 20
Wild Ones Tip #26
If your ass catches on fire, jump in the lake. That’s what it’s there for.
LILAH
I’m not sure who I’m expecting when I swing open the door to find out who the hell is banging it so loudly, but it’s certainly not Deacon—Benson’s brother.
I pump my Daisy, aiming it at his forehead, and he holds his hands up as a smile etches across his face. A face too similar—but smoother with no beard at all—to Benson’s.
Why is he smiling? Does he not realize this thing is loaded? I know it looks small, but it’s pump action—Vincent style. It hurts like a bitch the more times I pump.
“Easy. I’m just here to talk,” he says, still grinning.
“The last girl who dated Benson that you talked to announced she was pregnant with your baby,” I remind him, feeling defensive of the bastard even as I hate him a little.
That turns his smile into a grimace. “Which is why I’m here on behalf of my brother now, to do the right thing for once.”
“Tell me why you screwed his fiancée, and I’ll consider not shooting you.”
“Are all the women here like you?” he muses.
“Some are crazier,” I say with a shrug, now feeling defensive of myself as I stand a little taller, pushing my shoulders back as though that somehow helps me look saner.
His grin spreads again, but it falls when he exhales harshly. “Fine. To be fair, they weren’t engaged the first time I was with her. I wanted Sadie before my brother. We were sixteen—”
“Who’s we?” I interrupt.
“All of us. Sadie, me, and Benson.”
I lower the gun a little, keeping it pointed at his groin now. Which he subtly tries to cover. Guess he witnessed Benson’s pain. That makes me feel a little better.
Wait? All of them were the same age? That means—
“You and Benson are twins?” I ask, that part of the puzzle suddenly snapping together.
“Fraternal twins,” he says, frowning. “He didn’t tell you that?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I wasn’t told a huge chunk of family history.”
He nods in understanding. “Right. Well, Sadie and I had been talking, but she ended up choosing my brother. I never told him I was into her, and I expected my feelings to go away. I mean, I was sixteen, so how tough could that be? But they didn’t go away, since it became a game of wanting what I couldn’t have—forbidden fruit and all that. Then one night they had a nasty fight, broke up, and she came to me.”
He groans like he hates thinking back to it.
“I was almost seventeen at the time. She came to me, and I was an idiot kid who thought the girl of his dreams was finally choosing him. I wanted to talk to Benson first, but…did I mention I was seventeen? She came to me in lingerie, and I was a goner. So I did the unthinkable, certain they were over and I wasn’t hurting anyone.”
I lower the Daisy another inch.
“The next day, she went back to him, and I was wracked with guilt when he came to confide in me about how he was worried he almost lost her. I said nothing. And the next time they fought, I said nothing when she came to me. Or the next time. Or the next time. It wasn’t until she pulled that stunt by claiming me as the father just to hurt Benson, that I realized she never cared about me at all. In fact, I was just a tool she used against him. Funny thing is, neither of us really loved her. We were just young and stupid, unaware that love isn’t real unless it’s reciprocated. We both just wanted the unobtainable.”
I keep aiming the gun at him, but my finger is no longer on the trigger.
“She and Benson had been dating for a few months when Mom and John announced they were engaged. They’d only met because John insisted on meeting Sadie’s boyfriend’s parents. And since our Dad left us when we were younger, it was just Mom for him to meet. John’s wife died when Sadie was two, and he’d been alone since then. Mom had been alone… In short, our family history got really complicated really fast.”
“Benson said it was complicated,” I mumble, looking down at the ground. “But that doesn’t change the fact he didn’t want me over there this week, and all along, the woman he gave a ring to was in his house, freshly divorced.”
Yeah, I certainly didn’t forget that tidbit that Benson shared. Talk about acid on an already burning wound.
