A faded picture sits on top of remarkably neatly folded clothes. I pick it up, unable to curb my curiosity. Two young brown-haired boys sit on the fold-out steps of an old trailer, a woman in a long dress standing behind them. The boys have their arms around each other, and the smaller one on the left is missing a tooth as he grins at the camera. The larger boy wears a familiar smirk, though it holds none of the bitterness age would bring. They look happy.
The trailer is worn but well kept, the way my grandmother always kept hers. There’s a quiet pride in having nothing, sometimes. Everything you have becomes precious. Something to be protected.
Jayk and I are more alike than he knows.
I brush a finger over the photo. They must be his family. Did they pass away on Day Death? Or after, during the second wave? My chest cramps. By the time everything went south, I didn’t really have anyone left to mourn.
I bite my lip. He shouldn’t keep something this precious wrapped up in his clothes—it’s a good way to lose things. I spot a large metal toolbox on his dresser and slip the photo inside one of the empty compartments, resolving to let him know where I’ve put it later.
I pull out a blue T-shirt and it falls nearly to my knees. Quickly, I let myself out of the room and head back to the house, carrying my shoes. I’ve never done a walk of shame before and want more than anything not to have to face anyone before I’ve showered and pulled myself together.
Of course, I’m not that lucky.
Dom and Jasper stand by the large stone fireplace in the towering sitting room, arguing in low voices. Though I can’t make out his face from my place by the sliding door, Dom speaks with his hands—crisp, clipped motions—and his powerful shoulders are pushed back. I start to assume that he’s getting the best of Jasper, but a second glance makes me hesitate, then shiver.
Jasper’s motions are precise, careful, and only occasional. There’s a sharp expectation, a sense of stillness in his stance that reminds me of the mesmerizing threat of a coiled whip. His beauty is cold, carved with a delicate savagery.
Suddenly, I’m not quite certain which of the two men is the more dangerous.
In spite of my curiosity, my self-preservation is stronger. I can find out what they’re arguing about later—if anyone is feeling more willing to share today, that is.
That thought ignites that odd spark of anger all over again, but I shake my head at myself before the feeling grows. I need to get over it. I know what I signed up for. I can take being belittled and condescended to. For comfort and company? I will take a good many things.
Last night flashes into my mind, and my hot temper shifts into a different kind of burn. Yes, okay. Perhaps I already took a good many things.
There’s a lot to be said for this deal, really.
As gently as I can, I ease open the door—though I might as well have flung it open for all my deviousness wins me. Both men fall silent, instantly shifting so they stand shoulder to shoulder. They may have been arguing mere seconds before, but now they look like a team. A team that is one hundred percent focused on me.
I attempt a bland smile and step toward the stairs farthest from the two men.
“Stop, pet,” Dom orders, eyes narrowing on me. “Why the rush?”
My lips purse, and I give him a disapproving look, trying not to quail. “You know, it’s quite impolite to call me that.”
Dom just stares at me, molten-eyed and expectant. Jasper studies me too closely for my liking. I know what I must look like. My hair is a wild mess around me—my hair tie was lost to Jaykob’s floor—and I’m in his overlarge shirt, and if I smell even a fifth as strong as the room I woke up in, then I reek of sex. Not to mention, I’m aching everywhere, and covered in sweat —not all of it my own—and other fluids that I do not particularly want to think about in the judgy light of day.
It’s no secret what we were up to, but I still find myself wincing at their knowing looks.
“I, ah, need a shower,” I mutter, backing up before they can stop me again.
I turn right into Beau’s chest.
Why are all these men so tall and constantly in the way?
“Mornin’， darlin’。 Want some breakfast?” He holds a mug of coffee with one hand and, with the other, he catches me round the waist and pulls me close to his body in a quick hug.
I can’t stop my slight gasp of discomfort.
Beau steps back sharply, his smile fading as he studies my face. Before I can flee with whatever dignity I have left, Dom is behind me, lifting one sleeve of the T-shirt. His face stills. Stiffens.
“It’s not a big deal,” I start, wishing, not for the first time, that I was hidden deep in my old cave.
“How bad is it?” Beau snaps, and I jump at the harshness of his tone.
It’s only a few bruises. I’ve always bruised easily.
But Dom doesn’t wait for me to answer. His hand bunches in the back of my shirt and he yanks it up, exposing my bare body to the waist. I screech and try to pull it down with no success.
Beau is quivering. I look up at him, bewildered, as I fight against Dom’s grip on the shirt.
“I’m going to kill him, Dom.” Fury makes his hazel eyes flash. “And fuck you for forcing this. I might expect her to look like this after Jasper, but at least he knows when to stop.”
Jasper? My gaze flies to the beautiful man, my heart pounding in embarrassment and frustration and a renewed hint of fear.
The same man who turns each page with mesmerizing, reverent care? That Jasper?
Jasper takes in my reaction in one assessing glance and directs a small, chilly smile at Beau. “This is far too crude for my taste. But I do so appreciate you frightening her; that will certainly make this easier on everyone.”
His tart words could cause frostbite, and the taste of violence in the air thickens. It curdles on my tongue. Then Dom runs his hand firmly over my bare, bruised hips like I’m an injured animal, and I flinch back.
“Let go!” I demand, hating that my voice quakes. “I— I am not some toy to be thrown around!”
The sliding door rolls open behind me, but Dom’s grip won’t let me turn.
“Got thrown around plenty last night, sugar. Didn’t reckon you’d be ready for round two already,” Jaykob drawls. “Or that’d make it round four now, yeah?”
His gaze is hot on my ass, and I wince, remembering altogether too much from last night.
Given how angry Beau looks, I would have put money on him going after Jaykob, but to my surprise, it’s Dom who drops my shirt and storms over to the other man. I spin just as he slams Jaykob against the wall.
“Oh, sure, fucking typical.” Jaykob’s face darkens as he lifts his heavy arms to push the other man off him. Even while I’m reeling from the sudden attack, I notice he’s shirtless.
Dom’s grip doesn’t budge. “I knew you were rough, but I thought even you had enough goddamn restraint to hold back with someone like her. Did you even bother to hear her limits? Her safeword?” He slams Jaykob back again and hisses, “She’s not from the club, asshole, she doesn’t know how to stop you.”
Wait, what?
My mouth drops open, but before I can say anything, Beau crowds me protectively. I push against him, my horrified attention still absorbed on the scene in front of me, but it’s like trying to push past a stone wall.