Page 58 of Give Me Peace

My heart physically aches at how betrayed I feel. I was beginning to think I was a part of the group, not just some job they’d taken on. It hurts to know that they think so little of me that I’d risk them by putting myself in danger. Just me being here paints a target on their backs. It terrifies me that Liam knows who they are now, that he might see them as an obstacle. The thing that’s keeping me from him. And they are. I know they’d put themselves in the line of fire in order to protect me. Caring for someone is scary. Caring for five someone’s? Downright petrifying.

They should have talked to me. If they would’ve had a little faith, we could have avoided this. I shouldn’t have had to be blindsided by those pictures. They’ll haunt me, no doubt. I have no idea where my place is here. Most of the time, I don’t feel like a burden or responsibility. The playing field is equal. But instances like this serve as a reminder that I’m not a member of their team, and I’m cast right back to the edge of their circle. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so upset if things hadn’t progressed between all of us. I have a connection with each of them, and none of us have been brave enough to broach the subject.

We’ve been tiptoeing around the subtle changes that have happened over the last few weeks. The touches that have lingered longer with every passing day. I’m not sure there is a way to explain the shift. It doesn’t feel plausible to have feelings for more than one person at a time. Maybe I’m broken. Defective. This might be the resulting damage of Liam’s abuse—my inability to pick just one person to settle down with. I may never be normal, so that white picket fence and boring husband Krew was so adamant about might’ve been pointless. There’s a chance I won’t have that. Definitely not with any of these men. I can’t imagine settling down with one of them and having to see the others on a regular basis. It’d break my heart and rip their group apart.

The thought of being the thing that drives a wedge between the guys makes me wonder if we should just stop this—whatever this is—before things escalate any further. It’d hurt a lot less than months from now, or whenever I’m sent on my way. I can’t speak for them, but more time together will only complicate my feelings. That doesn’t mean I have to act on them, though. I lay across the floor, my cheek pressed against the cool marble, and try to clear my mind. It’s pinging from one thing to the next, leaving me exhausted.

I want to forget the last hour, but I’m also glad that I know. Not quite sure where this leaves us, but they have some groveling to do. My eyes flutter, the crappy day weighing them down. I try to fight it, but eventually succumb to sleep. I should’ve known it’d be anything but peaceful.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Krew

When Saylor’s ear-splitting scream echoes throughout the house I’m not taken aback. I’ve been expecting it. That’s why I’ve had my ass parked outside her room for hours, just waiting for the moment a nightmare clawed its way in. I knew there was a good chance she’d have one. The moment you become vulnerable, just about any setback or shitty day can bring one on. I should know. Tonight, I had to crush up a sleeping pill and put it into Kash’s drink. He either wouldn’t have slept at all, or he would’ve been exactly where Saylor is right now. Lost to an invisible enemy wreaking havoc on his mind.

I slip the key from my pocket and quickly unlock her door. My eyes flit around the room, noting she’s not in her bed. Kade is the first to appear, but Loch and Ro are right behind him. I just shake my head and slam the door in their faces. Harsh, but I fucking knew this was where we’d end up. I find Saylor curled up on the bathroom floor, her tiny body trembling. I scoop her up and tuck her against my chest.

“Krew?” Her sleepy voice questions. There’s relief in the way she says my name, but then she tenses. Like she forgot for a second about everything that went down and how pissed she is.

“Don’t fight me, Tink. You can go back to being mad tomorrow, but there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to leave you in here to suffer when I know you sleep better with one of us next to you.”

I can’t make out much of her facial expression, but the tautness of her body tells me she’d like nothing more than to argue and kick me out. Reluctantly, she relaxes and I slide us beneath the cool sheets of her bed. I think if any of the others had beat me in here, she wouldn’t be giving in so easily. My relationship with Saylor isn’t as solid as what she has with the rest of the guys. That’s a result of my own issues, but I doubt she feels as betrayed by me as she does them. Especially Kash.

Fuck, the look she gave my twin made me hurt for him. He paced our room for hours, mumbling apologies to the dead air. When he smacked his head against the wall, his eyes glistening with agony, I knew I had to step in and do something. He’ll wake up pissed, but he’ll get over it. I’m mad as fuck myself. At this entire situation. The guys. Even Saylor. I wanted to shake her earlier, make her see reason and force her to understand the position we’re in. Loch has probably downed an entire bottle of Jack, and that uptight asshole never drinks. It won’t matter that we all agreed this what the right course of action, he’s going to take full blame and responsibility. Denvers himself said Saylor was to be kept out of this for the time being, and he’s the real shot caller.

Saylor finally settles, her stilted breaths evening back out, but sleep evades me. It might be normal for the rest of the guys to take turns sleeping in here, but I never have. I definitely get the fucking appeal. Just being next to her eases my worry. I can’t even claim to be impartial anymore. I’m just as gone as they are. We’ve been on thin ice, but it’s starting to crack. Someone’s going to cross a line we can’t come back from, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s me who smudges it. I’m not the one she needs though, despite my threat on the beach.

She tests my will every goddamn day, but Saylor isn’t ready for the shit I’d do to her delectable little body. I question if she’s ready for anything—vanilla or otherwise. I’m not sure how much more I can take of her prancing around here in those tiny ass shorts and our sweatshirts. She could tempt a damn monk. It feels like I stare at the ceiling for hours, my thoughts scattered all over the place, before I eventually exhaust myself and get some sleep.

I swear I’ve just closed my eyes when I feel that prickling sensation of being watched. I peel an eye open to find Saylor sitting cross-legged on the bed, her gaze intent on me. The sun is pouring in through the window behind her, making her look like a fucking angel. Yeah, I’ve definitely drank the damn kool-aid. We stare at each other for a few minutes, neither of us saying a word. I pry my sleep-deprived body up so we’re level with one another and wait her out. I can see the wheels turning behind those bright blue eyes, and when she’s good and damn ready she’ll let me have it.

“I’m surprised you’re the one who came in here last night,” she speaks quietly. Her posture appears calm but I sense she’s trying her best to put on a brave face.

“I think we’ve both underestimated how much I care, Tink. Had a feeling you’d need one of us. Figured I was the least likely one to be kicked out on my ass.” I cross my arms, fully aware it’s a defensive move. A sad attempt to protect myself after laying out my feelings and where I stand. The others have been head-over-heels since day one, but I’m the straggler. I’m arriving late to a party that’s already started—not full-swing quite yet—and that’s my own fault. I don’t particularly enjoy putting myself out there. Women have been nothing more than a good time for me, no emotions involved. But that’s thing about Saylor—she hooked me without an ounce physical exchange.

“I don’t want to be angry at any of you, but my feelings are hurt.” She looks away, mimicking my crossed-arm stance.

“As you should be,” I tell her, knowing her response was valid. “But I’d like you to put yourself in our shoes for a minute. I won’t sugarcoat shit, so I’m just going to throw this out there. I think it’s safe to say that we care for you in a way that goes beyond a business relationship. Truthfully, beyond friendship.” Saylor’s cheeks pinken as she bites on her bottom lip. Fuck, what I’d give to make her blush for an entirely different reason. “That being said, we wouldn’t have jeopardized a client we had no emotional attachment to, much less you. We should have trusted that you’d look at this rationally, but at the end of the day, keeping you safe is what’s most important. I’m sorry if our method of achieving that hurt you, but we did what we thought was best.”

Saylor nods, but she doesn’t agree nor disagree with anything I’ve said. I sigh, extricating myself from the covers. I could use about eight more hours of sleep, but there’s a fat chance of that happening.

“We aren’t the enemy, Tink.” I press a kiss to her cheek, relishing the shocked inhale she takes. I leave her to it, knowing she’ll come out and face us when she’s ready. She’s got a lot more grit than I expected her to have. It sounds conceited as fuck, but I think being here with us has helped her speak up and voice her feelings. It’s drawn her out of being such a people pleaser. Loch and Ro are standing in the kitchen, looking like they’ve slept even less than me. Kade’s sprawled across the couch, knocked out so heavily he’s mouth breathing.

“How is she?” Loch asks, sipping on a cup of coffee. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it’s not his first—or even third—of the day.

“Sad and hurt, but she’ll come around,” I answer. Ro scoffs disbelievingly, not that I can blame him. He’s already fucked up and had to make nice with her, so I’m sure he feels his connection with her is fragile at best.

“I’m going to kill that bloody wanker.” I smile but say nothing about his British euphemism popping out. “I’m sick of the hold Liam still has on Saylor’s life. We need to end this.” A-fucking-men to that, but I have no idea how to. For someone like me, who thrives on solving shit, this is torture. He’s already outsmarted us so many times, and I have no starting point to begin searching.

“You donkey-dicked weasel,” Kash growls, stumbling from the hallway. He still looks half asleep, making me wonder if I was a little heavy-handed on the dosage. “Where is she? Where’s my girl?” We all freeze at my brothers outright claiming of Saylor. Even Kade seems to rise from the dead. Before any of us can comment, he slumps against the wall. I snort, walking over to help him to the couch. He’s back asleep before I get him situated.

“Christ, how much did you give him?” Ro asks, pulling the pill bottle from the medicine cabinet to doublecheck I haven’t overdosed him.

“They’re prescription for a reason, asshole. I only give them to him when he’s bordering on manic. They usually knock him on his ass for a good while.”

“I need to talk to her,” Kade grouses, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve made too many mistakes over the years with Saylor, and I swore I wouldn’t hurt her again.” The poor fuck looks miserable, much like the rest of us.

“Leave her be. She needs time to process.” I pop a k-cup in the Keurig, desperate for caffeine. “The best thing we can do right now is give her some space. Let the shock wear off. She’ll see that our intentions weren’t malicious, but we don’t need to rush her. Saylor needs to come to that conclusion on her own.”