Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Lara

Everyone freezes, shock evident on their face.

I peek at Kaleb next to me, whose brows are shoved so high on his forehead they're practically a part of his hairline.

The first sound is a sniffle, and then a full-on sob rips out of Sam. Not like before, these are gut-wrenching, all-consuming cries. I watch as guilt visibly floods Michael. His shoulders sag, the tension in his body drops away, and his face crumples.

"Fuck," he curses, scrubbing at his face, his distress clear. "Sammy . . ." he starts, but his dad holds up his hand.

"I think that's quite enough, son."

Michael hesitates but eventually gives a firm nod .

"You boys take . . ." He hesitates, not knowing what to actually call me.

"Lara," I fill in as quietly as I can. I don't think I have ever been this uncomfortable.

"You boys take Lara and get her settled for the night." He twists his wrist, looking at the time on his watch. "Well, what's left of it. Your mother and I will talk with your sister."

"A good spanking is what she needs," Kaleb mutters, but his voice carries across the quiet room.

His words only add to the tense atmosphere, and Sam's crying intensifies.

"Not helpful, Kaleb. And we don't hit in this house."

Michael grimaces, rubbing at his jaw.

"Maybe that's the problem," Kaleb replies.

Both parents react to his words. Their mom wraps her arm around an inconsolable Sam, while their dad simply points at the stairs.

Kaleb turns to me, arms out, ready to pick me up, but Michael coughs.

The two brothers share a look with me stuck in the middle. Finally, Kaleb nods once.

"Okay, Fawn, hop on," he tells me. Turning, he crouches slightly and pats his back.

He's joking, right?

"You're joking, right?"

Kaleb straightens, twisting his torso to speak to me. "No?"

"I have a bum ankle," I point out .

"That's why I'm going to carry you."

"I can't hop on." I gesture to my foot again.

"Oh." He smiles. "We've got you." He gestures back and forth between himself and his brother. Again, Kaleb turns away but crouches down even lower this time.

Even as I move forward, I can't help but moan with uncertainty. Hopping, I grasp his shoulders. Just as I am about to do the world's smallest jump, two strong hands land on my hips.

Behind me, Michael lifts me easily, his fingers spreading wide from my hips to the top of my thighs. His thumbs plant on my ass as he grips me tight.

Confidently, he holds me until Kaleb can grab my thighs. Once secured, he stands tall, taking me with him. My face heats when Michael's hands remain for a second more.

I peek over at the other three people in the room. Sam's head is down while her dad quietly berates her. Their mom, however, is not so oblivious. Her steady blue gaze tracks our movement. Something tells me that this woman doesn't miss much when it comes to her family.

Securely clinging to Kaleb, I give a little wave as we pass with Michael close behind.

We climb one set of stairs before Michael passes us on the landing. He climbs the stairs quickly, looking back every few steps, a frown pulling at his face.

"Legs round my waist nice and tight," Kaleb directs when my hold slips. His hands catch me under my ass before moving back down my legs.

Michael stills in front of us where he had started to lead the way to the top floor. Turning to take us in, he opens his mouth but closes it without saying anything. His face is the same shade my mom went when she found out I gained two pounds at Christmas my senior year. Same cheek twitch, too.

His gaze meets mine before dropping back to where his brother's hands hold me under my thighs, a scowl consuming his face.

What is his problem?

I'm tired of him being hot and cold. One minute, he wants to help me, then he calls his brother over to do it. Now he's looking at us like we stabbed him in the back. Frustrated, I ask the question out loud.

Kaleb stills beneath me, one foot on the bottom step.

Pivoting on the top step, Michael towers over us. "My problem? How about you shouldn't have been out there freezing your ass off in the middle of the night? How about you shouldn't have even been in Kaleb's car in the first place?"

Disbelief floods me. "Do you want me to apologize?" I demand. "Fine, I'm sorry your sister drove off with me in the car, but mostly, I'm sorry you put me in the car to start with."

"No." Michael sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of course I don't want you to apologize."

His well-muscled chest expands, his eyes squeezed close. The man looks like he's trying to wrangle his last piece of patience.

"I apologize. I'm tired and worried," he says, looking me in the eye. "Would you please go upstairs and warm up in the bath?"

I narrow my eyes before giving them a quick roll. "We're all tired." I pat Kaleb's chest and add, "Come on, Kay, let's go."

The man carrying me quickly shakes his head.

"No?" I ask. I peer over his shoulder to see his face as we ascend the stairs and ask, "What about Leb? Lube?" I chuckle.

Kaleb's laughter makes me jiggle on his back.

Michael freezes, his broad back expanding as he sucks in a deep breath, pausing in front of a door. "He likes to be called Kaleb."

"Kaykay?" I ask as we step onto the landing.

Kaleb is still chuckling as we pass his brother and enter the bedroom. "You're going to get me into trouble, Fawn."

I stroke his chest where my hand lays. "Something tells me you don't need my help for that."

"Very true," he agrees, releasing me quickly back onto the bed.

"Gentle!" Michael snaps.

Kaleb doesn't respond. Instead, he walks into the adjoining bathroom. The sound of flowing water floats out to us a minute later.

"Wait," I call out. "I don't think I can take a bath. "

"Of course you can. You need to warm up," Michael insists sharply.

My cheeks flame. "No, I don't think I can." I stress the last word, hoping he will catch on.

He doesn't.

"Princess, I am out of patience. Go get in the bath."

"I can't." Great, now I'm snapping. "I don't think I can step in and out of the tub," I mutter, embarrassed.

"Oh."

Kaleb looks back and forth between us, having caught the end of our conversation. "I could . . ." He stops short at the noise that rips out of Michael. "I'll go get Mom," Kaleb hurries, practically sprinting from the room before I can even protest.

"And drop the fucking nickname," Michael hisses to his passing brother.