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“Every step of the way, River. Liv is working hard at your property, trying to lure that asshole out. We checked and double-checked during extraction; whoever they are, they weren’t aware you left. Leave this to us. We’ve got you.” He seems so damn earnest when he breaks through his grinning exterior, leaving me feeling settled and secure. “Now, any questions?” he asks, studying each of us as we shake our heads. “Then I bid you good day. Take care of yourselves. Call if you need me. Yaddy…Yaddy…ya. Oh, and set the goddamn alarm!” He rolls his wrist as he exits, lightly shutting the front door and leaving the six of us in a chilling silence.
“So,” Kieran mutters, looking around as he stands from the couch. “When did you build this?”
“And why all the crazy ass security, man? This seems over the fucking top,” Rad adds.
My eyes snap to Callum, watching intently as he shrugs. “A few years ago. I wanted somewhere to go, and no one would bother me. Especially our fans. You-you know how they can get,” he whispers, rubbing his neck.
“This is where you used to disappear to, huh?” Rad asks.
A red tint envelops Callum’s cheeks. “Yeah. Whenever I needed to get away, it was like a paradise. No one knows about it. I like to come and see my parents and Jenny.”
Ah. That makes sense. He’s never really come to terms with the death of his entire family after that crazy plane crash. I don’t blame him. I’ve missed the hell out of my mom since I’ve been away. Once a week, I visited her grave before I left, leaving her flowers and mementos.
“We literally had the ocean in our backyard, bro. What happened to surfing? The sunshine?” Rad quips.
“Surfing wasn’t for me. No coordination on the board,” Callum mutters, rising to his feet and setting the alarm through the panel near the front door. When the alarm system rings out that we’re protected from danger, I lean back further, closing my eyes.
Sleep was not my friend last night. Not that I could have gotten a wink on the stuffy plane filled with all my ex-boyfriends and worry that my stalker was in the cargo hold, ready to murder me.
It baffles me that one person would follow me around for so long. I’m not that exciting of an individual. Hell, the first two years I lived in East Point, I did nothing but mom, work, and run all over the place. My schedule only settled down when I walked across CaliState’s stage with my diploma in hand, if you call my schedule slowing down. Ah, the simple days.
Now, here I am, smack dab in the middle of some shitty joke with no punchline. One girl walks into a house she can’t leave with four men who used to put their dicks in her… What could go wrong? Everything, that’s what. Fuck. What am I doing? Why did I decide to do this?
Because you sort of had to—yeah, that, I guess. For Lyric. For our safety. Besides, they weren’t too keen on walking away from us and letting us go at this alone, which shows how determined they are to earn my forgiveness and make amends.
It’s more than absolution, though. I see it in their movements and possessive gazes. Since we cleared the air and freed our sins, their motivations have been strictly pure. No malice or manipulation—they’re sincerely trying to prove themselves to Lyric and me.
“You’re tired,” Callum murmurs from my left, somehow getting there without me noticing. Trembling fingers shift the hair from my face, tucking it behind my ears.
God, his touch does something funny to my insides. All gentle and so full of care. It’s a stark difference from the man in the octagon, beating the shit out of his opponent. I shiver at the thought. Memories of his bloodbath come forward. I’d never tell him how much I enjoyed silently cheering him on as he bashed the other guy’s brains in.
“Mhhmm,” I mutter, heaving a breath.
“I can show you to a room,” Callum whispers.
“I have a better idea,” I say, peeking open an eye. A loopy grin spreads across my face. “Got any wine?” Because God knows I need some wine to settle my nerves and get through this undetermined number of days stuck in this house with an eager four-year-old and four men who look at me like I’m the light of their life.
“Now you’re talking, Pretty Girl. How about some tequila shots off…”
“What’s tequila?” Rad stops dead, snapping his mouth shut when Lyric cocks her head with curiosity, awaiting his answer.
“Grown-up juice,” Asher says, hiding his smile when she pouts.
“But I want the tequilas. And shots! Shots! Shots!” she shouts, pumping her arm in the air.
“Be better,” Kieran rumbles protectively, narrowing his eyes at Rad. “You can’t say that shit around kids.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” Ly murmurs.
“Ly,” I grumble. “You know that’s a grown-up word. Save it until you’re eighteen.” She pouts more, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Sorry,” Rad mutters, putting his hands in the air in defeat, looking guilty as hell.
“Ly, where did you learn to say shots, shots, shots?” I groan, lazily looking her over as she pouts more.
She shrugs. “TV.”
“What kind of TV do you watch?” Lyric grins at Kieran when he asks the question that opens Pandora’s box of questions.
