“He doesn’t hate you, baby,” He said. “I told you, he’s moody. He’s lived a life of heartbreak and that leaves a mark on a person. His dad died when he was a little boy and his mother made yours seem sweet in comparison. After his dad died, his mother moved them here, to this cottage, to live with her mother. She wasn’t very nice either. He grew up with a woman who told him on a daily basis he should have been aborted. Then, he had a grandmother who beat the shit out of him. She’d whip him, trying to get the evil thing inside of him out. They both died when he was in his late teens, but he put up with their bullshit until then. It did something to him, warped the way he see’s women. He goes through women like they are disposable and he sleeps around a lot. He once had four girlfriends at the same time, none of them knew about each other and they didn’t get the chance to figure it out because he didn’t keep them around for longer than a month. He fucks them and when he’s had enough of them, he moves on to the next one.” Quinton paused to draw in a deep breath. “He can’t do that with you even if he wanted to. You’re different, special. You’re one of us and he’d never hurt you. He’s worried you’re going to be the one doing the hurting and he’s scared to death of you.”
I didn’t want to care. I tried to harden my heart against feeling anything. I failed. Miserably. I, too, had suffered at the hands of a hideous person who was supposed to love and care for me. My heart bled a little for Dash, it couldn’t not.
Though, none of this made him any less of a dick.
“Why did you tell me this, Quinton?” I asked quietly. I felt like it hadn’t been his place to share even part of Dash’s story with me.
Quinton grinned at me. “I can see your heart in your eyes, you’re that easy to read now. No way are you not going to give him even half a chance after hearing that. I’m not opposed to guilting you into giving me what I want. And, make no mistake, Ariel, I want you to give Dash a chance. In time, I want you to give them all a chance. They want it too. We all do. Even if some of them are going to fight it, deep down they want it, want you, they won’t be able to help themselves.”
I shook my head. He didn’t have to tell me what he was capable of, I already knew.
I’d give Dash a chance, maybe. But I would make no promises.
They were all insane, especially Quinton. He had the hots for me, clearly, and yet he wanted me to have romantic relationships with his nephew and all their friends.
That wasn’t going to happen. At least, not today it wasn’t.
“So,” I cleared my throat. “We’re here to what? Check out my potentially new home?”
“Yeah,” he grunted as he opened his door and climbed out of the car.
He was annoyed.
I think it bothered him that I never responded aloud when someone brought up the sharing bit. I wished it would stop coming up in conversation, and I didn’t respond because I didn’t think he would really enjoy hearing what I had to say on the matter.
He moved around the front of the car to come around to my side, so he could open the door for me. I shoved the door open and quickly scrambled to my feet. I wasn’t entirely helpless.
He pursed his lips, unhappy with me.
I bit my lip hard, so I wouldn’t laugh at him. He wouldn’t like me laughing at him.
He turned his back on me and casually strolled up the stone pathway. He wore the same black, scuffed up cowboy boots I’d seen him wear recently. Dark, blue jeans were tucked into the boots. A light gray belt had been slipped through the belt loops on his jeans. His outfit had been topped off by his usual long-sleeved button up shirt. This one was a rich forest green and he had the sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows. The color went well with his tanned skin and dark eye
s.
Quinton knocked on the door as I made it to his side. There was no doorbell in sight.
I stood there nervously while we waited for Dash to open up the door.
I had no idea what lay behind the black door. The only expectations I had weren’t good ones.
Chapter Twelve
It took Quinton banging on the door a few more times with his fist for Dash to open the door. The longer it took, the more nervous I became. Finally, when the door opened, I had my hands clenched together in front of me and my palms had started to sweat.
I felt like an actress, auditioning for a part in a movie I wasn’t sure would either make or break my career. Time to quit my day job.
The door opened inwards and Dash filled the empty space. His shockingly bright red hair and beard were the first thing I noticed about him. His beard had grown fuller, longer since I had seen him last.
I noticed his eyes second and I did not linger on them in my perusal of him. His eyes were light gray and best described as haunted. The depth of the horrors he’d lived through shined bright at the surface, for all to see. His eyes told me he had plenty of demons, and they wrestled on the daily.
I wondered if he recognized the horrors in my eyes as similar to the ones shining so brightly in his own. Could he tell I had demons as well when he looked at me?
I didn’t think he looked at me long enough to notice.
His outfit surprised me because I felt like I should have noticed it before all else.
He stood barefoot with his pale, naked legs practically glowing in the sunlight. He wore what looked to be a woman’s robe that was black and looked like silk. The sleeves were so long they hid his hands from view. The robe was short, stopping mid-thigh, leaving an obscene amount of skin on display.