Both men seem genuine, kind, and fierce. My nerves settle a bit until someone bangs on the window. Ford already has his hand inside his jacket and out with his gun drawn before I can even turn my head toward the sound.
“Jack,” Marjorie hollers, tapping the glass again. “They aren’t going to let you leave without some sort of statement.”
Dad pats my knee and kisses my cheek before giving Marjorie a nod that has her stepping away from the door. “Take her back to the house for the wake. I’m going to deal with the press,” my dad notifies the men and then opens the car door. He leaves me inside with these four strangers who just concealed my sorrow from the world to view.
“Lucky little Clove,” Ford says with a smirk as he tucks his gun away, “you can trust us. We’re here to keep you safe.”
Lucky?
“Safe from what?” I manage to croak, a rogue tear slipping from my eye.
The man who caught me outside and guided me into the car reaches forward and with a slow and precise movement swipes the tear with the pad of his thumb from my cheek. His eyes are a blazing blue that seems to penetrate me to my core. I can tell he’s the oldest in the group by the way he seems to drip with authority that makes me feel safe. My eyes linger on a rogue strand of inky-black hair that hangs over his dark brow. It makes me want to reach over and push it away so I have an unobstructed view of his gorgeous eyes.
“From the wolves trying to take a bite,” he answers with a smile, his hand lingering on my skin a second longer than necessary. It’s strange the instant calm saturating my body with them all watching me. “I’m Sebastian Constantine. I started IDS four years ago and brought in my most trusted ex-military brothers. Every single one of these guys, I trust with my life. And you can too, Miss Sterling.”
“Clo is fine,” I murmur.
Sebastian grins and then nicks his head toward the dark-haired brooding one on the other side of him. “You can trust us, Clo. Even this wise guy.”
Ford snorts. “Zac? He’s shady. You gotta watch him.”
Zac, the man in question, turns his dark-brown eyes my way. His jaw clenches as though he’s angry, which causes my pulse to quicken. Then, he winks at me. No smile or anything else, just a wink. It surprisingly calms me.
“Zac Stone,” he grunts out. “Electronic Security Agent.”
Sebastian leans forward again, capturing me with his electric blue eyes. “We are a team. Your team. Keeping people safe is our specialty. We won’t let you down, Clo.”
For the first time in a long time, fear ebbs inside me like a receding tide.
Not fear of being in danger, but the fear of being alone.
I sigh and relax back into the comfort of my seat, my eyes closing and exhaustion coming over me. For the first time in forever, I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.
They are here to save me from the big bad world.
I have my own four saviors.
And I need them, for future days like this.
I am not alone.
They are mine.
Six years later…
Image after image flits across my screen from William’s Facebook page as I scroll through, stalking his profile. I don’t even remember these photos of us being taken. It’s like he has a version of our relationship in his mind that differs so much from reality it’s worrying.
It’s almost as if he’s designing a picture-perfect illusion just for the outside world, which doesn’t surprise me. I lived that way my whole life. It’s something I’ve come to expect from the people in my life.
William, like my father, is in politics. Image is everything to them. Damn, him being like Dad was the appeal in the first place. Not in a creepy way, just in a He’s what I know kind of way. What I’ve always been taught is normal. What was expected of me.
He’s perfect according to my dad.
He should try dating him.
“Us” on paper is the perfect match, but chemistry doesn’t take note of whom we should be attracted to and it dropped the ball on this one.
William is handsome, but he lacks sex appeal. We have sex on a schedule since I let him take my virginity four years ago on my nineteenth birthday. Everything I’d built up in my mind over the years was replaced with the reality of missionary style, five thrusts and it’s over kind of sex. I’d been led to believe from TV shows that, that was supposed to happen years after marriage, not straight from the start. I didn’t even feel the pain you’re supposed to have when losing your virginity. It was just bland and over too quick to notice pain, or pleasure. I’d always been a sexual person, with myself anyway.