Dahlia Aldridge
His answer was the last time he spoke until we had reached the back entrance to Wildberry, his mind seemingly a million miles away. If this were any of my other boys, I could have told you what they were thinking, but this was Dermot. I had no idea if he was pissed at what happened, pissed that we went, or pissed at me. I didn’t think he had a reason to be pissed at me… then again, because of me, he got a gun put to his head.
My fingers went to run through my hair, but my braid stopped me. I considered taking them out but I was already semi-damp, and I didn’t want to ruin his car with my wet hair. I really was trying to avoid making him any more upset than he already was.
It wasn’t normally my style to walk on eggshells, but something instinctual told me that an angry Dermot was a bad thing. A really bad thing. Not that I was in danger or that he would hurt me, but just to be cautious.
“I’m going to drop you at your house—”
“Where are you going?” I asked instantly, both worried about why he wouldn’t be with the rest of us and insecure about why he wanted to get away from me. At least that’s how it felt.
Dermot looked at me, his eyes nearly black in the shadows of the car, his voice strained as he responded. “Going on a drive to calm down.”
I examined his expression and frowned. I wasn’t positive that I believed him. As he finally pulled up to my house, Stratton’s motorcycle pulling into his driveway, I reached forward to grasp Dermot’s hand. He looked at our intertwined fingers and inhaled sharply before offering me a look that sent worry, fear, and a bit of desire running through me.
“Go inside, Dahlia.” It was a warning laced with something almost hot. No, I didn’t think he was mad at me right now, but he was for sure something. I just didn’t know what to call it.
I did know tonight was not the one to push him, so I nodded and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek before getting out of the car. Dermot made a soft, almost upset sound, but when I looked back he was focused on the rainy street ahead. I closed the door softly, wishing I didn’t have to leave him.
I walked towards the porch as Stratton made his way over, both of us watching as Dermot drove off towards the exit. I shook my head at how insane tonight had been as Stratton led me into the house, his temper one I was more familiar with. Which was why I wasn’t surprised when my back hit the wall right inside the front door, his frame caging mine against the cold, hard surface.
“Breathe, Stratton,” I reminded him softly.
His nose was tucked against my throat as he let out a soft noncommittal sound, his hands squeezing my waist on either side as if he was reassuring himself I was there. There was absolutely no way I could forget how close we were with how good he smelled and how hard he was, my center tightening despite the completely inappropriate timing.
“I could have lost you tonight,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and pained. “Fuck, that was way too close, angel.”
“Hey.” I captured his jaw between my hands. “I am fine. You’re fine. Dermot is… well, I think fine. Let’s go tell the others what happened and then head to bed, okay?”
Stratton pulled back, examining my expression, before he nodded. The man kept me tucked against him as we headed towards the back of the house. I wasn’t too surprised to find King and Sterling in the office, although I did wonder where Lincoln and Yates were.
“Sugar, you’re soaking wet.” Sterling frowned, coming up to me and wrapping me in his jacket as I laid my head on his chest. Stratton was already on an angry tangent, King’s gaze running over me before going back to Stratton and seeming to absorb everything he said regarding the incident with the Denim Moths.
Now that he was here, I had a feeling King hadn’t been the one on the other end of the call with Dermot, which begged the question,Who had been?Also, was now the time to mention the all-important detail Stratton had left out about a gun being pulled on me as well?
Actually, instinct told me he had left that out on purpose.
“He pulled a gun on Dermot?” King clarified, standing up. “Where is he?”
“Said he was going on a drive,” I whispered.
King froze and cursed, tugging on his suit jacket and striding past us. I blinked up at Sterling, who just pulled me further into him. Stratton left the room as well, following after King, as I considered doing the same.
“Should we?” I asked softly.
Sterling shook his head and then frowned. “What exactly happened? Fully.”
I had a feeling he would want details. I loved Stratton, but the man had given the CliffsNotes version of everything that had occurred. So I told him, his eyes turning cold and dark like an icy tundra as I explained that I’d had a gun pulled on me as well.
I winced. “Should I have told King that part as well?”
“No,” Sterling hissed through clenched teeth. “I am very glad you didn’t. Right now there is a chance he can calm Dermot down before he starts some shit, but if he knew that? Well, we probably would be in a different situation.”
I inhaled and nodded. “Today has been weird.”
He chuckled softly, but the darkness was still there. “Yeah, yeah it has been.”
I didn’t ask where Lincoln and Yates were, deciding that I was going to sit this one out. I think I was hitting a wall, because as we neared my bedroom, my eyes grew heavier and Sterling picked me up in a princess hold.