Yates, Sterling, and hell, even Stratton had lines they wouldn’t cross. Mind you, not many, as in seriously very few… but I didn’t really have those same hang-ups. I took pleasure in watching someone like Greg become terrified, and I had to admit, I was a bit jealous I wasn’t there right now, watching him lose consciousness.
Not that I would trade holding Dahlia for any amount of violence… but it was something I’d find enjoyable. It was probably better that Sterling was there, because he would attempt to convince King that we had to keep the bastard alive. We couldn’t kill two people in one weekend—that was excessive, even for us.
I also didn’t trust myself to stick to that if I was actually around Gregory. His words to Dahlia infuriated me, but not nearly as much as the concept that he would suggest she could be with anyone but us.
I would probably end up leaving quite the mess if I was involved.
My eyes darted down to my phone, wondering when we were going to get another call, one related to someone that unfortunately wasn’t getting the same pleasure of just a beat down. No, the other bastard was going to die, and if I had to assume, we’d be getting that call sooner rather than later. I just wish we had been able to do it ourselves.
Although, as Mr. Carter had repeatedly told us, if he wasn’t out of the country, we would be the main suspects if he ‘happened’ to be hurt.
Well, it was good he would be firmly back in Scotland before that happened, then. Trying to calm the fury I could feel building, I entertained myself with the first time I’d ever felt like this. Ever felt enraged at the concept of Dahlia being anyone but our girl. Even when we were younger, the idea seemed foreign and unnatural.
“Dahlia?” I called out my friend’s name, pushing into the private study room in our high school library, the last afternoon period leaving the space essentially deserted. I frowned, realizing that the space was empty, her backpack and books abandoned on the table. Putting down my backpack, I checked my phone, noticing that I had no messages from her. A bit of concern hit my chest as I stepped back out of the room. Where was she?
I knew she needed to work on shit, and I wish I could tell you I was here to be productive, but honestly, it was really just to hang out with her. I’d been assigned an insane amount of work today in my advanced classes, and I needed these next forty-five minutes to detox before we went home for the day.
Suddenly, I heard her familiar laughter ring out from nearby as an uneasy feeling ran through me. Walking down the hall, I came to the glass door of the study room next to ours and felt a low, annoyed grumble break through my throat before opening the sliding door and drawing both their attention. Yeah, this wasn’t going to fucking happen.
A wave of jealousy and possessiveness that had no right to exist at fifteen crashed into me. Dahlia looked up from where she sat at the study table, talking to Finn, her smile lighting up the entire goddamn space. What the hell was he doing talking to her, and why were they alone in a study room? I tried to shake the red haze as both looked over at me, my emotions doing an unbalanced dance.
“Dahlia.” I offered a small smile as her gaze brightened on me. She stood up and immediately waltzed over, wrapping her arms around my center as I pressed a kiss to her forehead, narrowing my eyes over her head at Finn. He scowled as I looked down at her, her voice lightly talking about the assignment they’d been given in class today and how complicated it was. Honestly, it only made me feel moderately better that there was an academic reason that she had for her interaction.
Couldn’t we just hire a private tutor for the group of us?
“Want me to help you out with it?” I asked her, gently twirling a piece of her hair around my finger, the wavy texture messy from being in school all day. She always fidgeted with her hair, so it usually looked a bit wild by this time of day.
“I would love that,” she said, smiling. “Then when we get home we can work on that project.”
“Let’s go.” I nodded, and Dahlia turned towards Finn, bidding him a goodbye as I offered a smug smile, letting the door shut as I led her back towards our room.
For the next forty-five minutes, I was more than happy to focus on her assignment, because I’d rather work all day, every day on homework with her than ever have her be alone with Finn. He could fuck off. Plus, I did want to focus on the project I’d promised her. I felt like building her a computer to hold all of her pictures was a pretty good show of my friendship and better than whatever that bastard could work up.
Following that incident, Finn didn’t fuck with Dahlia. But not everyone was as smart as Finn—some people, like Greg, pushed the envelope until I snapped. Well, more specifically, King snapped, in this case. It actually surprised me that I had such a terrible temper, considering how good I was at compartmentalizing information. I was known for being rather clinical,except when it came to Dahlia. She seemed to be the exception to most things.
Any other time I was usually rational, my head focused on computer codes, some site I was developing, or fucking with the stock market program I’d designed. It was my escape from the intense emotions and need that spiraled through me whenever Dahlia was close. I had to imagine, now that I’d kissed her, tasted her, that I would never fully be able to detach again. I would always be thinking of her lips on mine, and it was going to completely anchor me to this plane of existence with an emotional spectrum that was volatile to those around me. Dahlia had no need to worry, but everyone else? They should be a bit concerned.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, my cock twitched at the idea of her being on top of me again, stradling my much larger frame and rocking back and forth on my cock. I was always so goddamn hard around her, and it had almost been amusing to see her realize that tonight. I could show her up close if she wanted. Hell, she could even fucking open that pretty mouth of hers—
The door opened, pulling me from my thoughts as I sat up slightly, putting a finger to my lips in warning as Kingston rounded the corner into the family room. He pointed towards the kitchen, and I sat up, trying to not shift Dahlia. Yates and Sterling followed after King, and Dermot offered me a head nod, sliding against the floor in front of her as I let out a small yawn, wishing I didn’t have to get up.
My smirk grew as I made a mental bet that Dermot took my spot by the time I got back. I wasn’t even that bitter about that, because I was eager as hell to know what they’d done to Greg.
I had my suspicions on why Kingston was so comfortable with Dermot’s feelings for Dahlia. His very obvious feelings. Why he trusted him in the first place with the most important woman in the world to every single one of us. It was the same reason that I grouped him naturally as one of us, rather than someone like Finn.
I had known Dermot for a few years now, after traveling overseas with Kingston, and since then we’d kept in touch. I knew he came from a fucked-up family life. Far worse than he even liked admitting to, considering his father was an emotionally abusive prick. Still, Dermot had turned out to be a good guy, which was why I trusted him.
Everything about his actions was authentic, and while I had no idea how Dahlia felt about him, I was comfortable with him around her. It helped that his reasoning for why he came here and his unwavering loyalty to Kingston spoke to that quality about him. I couldn’t have predicted how he had felt about Dahlia, or her reaction to him, but I would bet my ass King had guessed. It wasn’t any secret that obsessive tendencies ran rampant in the Ross family.
Which was another reason why everything going on with Dahlia was bothering Kingston so much. He hated not understanding shit about her, and unfortunately, I had a feeling that there was something much larger going on here than we had initially assumed. I didn’t think that this was just a case of her having been bullied online. I think it was far more serious, and it terrified me the way that she sometimes looked so haunted and exhausted. I didn’t like how delicate she seemed, not even just emotionally, but physically. It made me want to wrap her up in protective bubble wrap, forever. I knew that wasn’t a healthy mindset, but ask me if I gave a fuck.
None of us did, really. If it kept Dahlia safe, it was good in my book. I was prepared to run on instinct, and if that meant trusting Dermot, I was as cool with it as I was with putting a tracker on her. Something I was slowly convincing my twin of.
“Holy shit,” I chuckled as my brother turned on the kitchen lights, the other two already spread throughout the massive room. I couldn’t help but smile at Yates’s shirt, which was covered in blood, or the fact that King’s hair was dripping with blood that ran onto his face, both of them looking completely unaffected by the nature of the situation, making me wonder what would have happened if they’d gotten pulled over like this.
I would have paid to see that shit.
I looked over my brother, surprised he didn’t have blood on him too. He offered me an amused smile, clearly knowing where my thoughts had gone. I was smiling as well, but more because I knew fucking Greg suffered. I also knew that this had gone a long way to work out the frustration from what had happened with Ian, since we hadn’t been able to take direct action at that.