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"Did Layla just claim us, too?" Marcus stares at the stairs in wonder for a beat longer.
"Shush," Rylee scolds him, still looking mighty pink where she sits crisscrossed on the carpet in front of Jude and Tate. “How did you find me, Tate?”
I don't think the boy hears her, though. Yes,boy.In our late twenties or early thirties in JJ's case, eighteen seems like fucking ages ago. Marcus shuffles around the couch and sits beside Jackson, a bag of peas pressed to his jaw. Anger and annoyance flood my system. I hate that Tate hurt my man.
"I'm sorry. What? Are you guys all together?" Tate seems baffled.
"Yes," Jude says.
It's Rylee who offers a strangled noise this time. She swats Jude with a look of disbelief. "Uh, absolutely not!"
"Really, Ry? 'Cus you all seem pretty cozy?" Tate looks pointedly at all of us lounging around her living room.
"Really. No. I am not with them. We are just friends." She huffs and crosses her arms.
JJ rolls his eyes, clearly not enjoying this conversation. "All four of us are together. We are still working on the one on the floor." He gestures to a gaping Rylee.
Only able to huff again, she gets us back on track even if some of us are fighting to hide our laughter. "Anyway. Tate, I seriously need to know how you found me."
I straighten at her stern tone, which holds a hint of fear. Tate eyes us with uncertainty. "Do they know? Should they be here for this?"
"Doyouknow?" My woman's defensiveness makes me hard. "They stay."
Well, fuck. I guess we finally get to know what happened to these sweet girls.
Tate starts with a bomb. "Is Mason my niece’s father?" All remnants of sadness die, leaving a stone-cold, pissed-off brother.
Rylee freezes, all the blood drains from her face. She nods. I can tell she's barely keeping herself contained.
Tate jerks his head in a nod. "He showed up last month at the house, demanding to know your whereabouts. Penelope and Arthur kicked him out. I put the pieces together." He eyes her hard like he knows something, making my skin fucking itch. "He hired my family to track you."
"WHAT?!" On her feet, Rylee can barely get in a gasp of air. Before we can reach her in our panic to soothe her, Tate is there. Much to my dis-fucking-may.
"My guys didn't know! I swear they told me immediately. Mason is off on a 'lead' in California right now. I swear to you! That abusive fuck is as far away from you as we could manage without being suspicious."
Rylee stops fighting her brother’s hold when Jude runs a large palm over the top of her head to soothe her anxiety.
I can tell the rest of us are about to burst into flames at what we just learned. Layla's father was abusive.
What does that mean?Who did he hurt? Rylee? Layla? Both of them?
I can't even compute what sick fuck would hurt these amazing girls. If they were mine, I would cherish the ground they walk on.
"Someone better start fucking talking," Jackson growls.
"Oh my god. How long do I have, Tate? Do I need to leave now?" Removing herself from his grip, Rylee paces again. "I have four weeks left on this lease. How long until he gets here? Do you know? TATE! HE CAN'T HAVE HER!"
"Rylee—" Jude steps forward only to be brushed off.
Rylee's eyes are frantic as she yanks on her hair. "Fuck. Maybe I should leave and draw him away from Layla. He won't stop coming for her," she mumbles under her breath.
A lump forms in my throat at the idea of them leaving. "Beauty—"
She cuts me off. "I can't leave her behind, though. Fuck!" With her shout, her fist lashes out and hits the wall.
Rylee's harsh yelp and buckling knees have me surging forward before she can land. "Hey, hey! It's okay. Let me see," I say soothingly.
Shuffling her body across my lap, I lean against the wall with her straddling me. With her left hand, she cradles the other wrist she bashed into the wall. My heart thunders in my chest, needing to fix whatever hurts. I hate that so much of my woman’s pain isn't visible, but maybe I can help this time.
