19. July 1st

19

July 1st

I am hiding.

When I wake, both Axel and Grayson are gone, and now I don't know what to do. How to process either of the men. How to discern the difference between guilt and shame. Between right and wrong.

Except my growing feelings for these brothers? Well that is most assuredly wrong.

In order to distract myself, I decide it is time to get some answers.

I find the hiding place, grab the giraffe, and lock myself in the bathroom.

I put the stuffed animal up to my face and for a moment I just breathe in Auggie's scent. It calms my nerves and steadies me in the here and now.

Here I am in the bathroom, leaning against the counter, doing anything to not look at my reflection.

I am holding a picture and the phone. A very disgusting, ugly picture. An incredibly useless dead phone.

I turn the phone in my hands, press the button on the side. Nothing happens.

The charging port is circular in shape and I am unsure where I would find a charger that works for it.

But I have a different idea. Pulling out my own phone, I take the SIM card out and replace it with the one from the flip phone.

I restart my phone for measure and then give it a few minutes.

While it is working its magic, I take more time to examine the polaroid.

It looks like the picture is taken from a closet between two wooden panels. The girl I don't recognize is cast in shadows. She is lying on a bed, her limbs spread about, and her eyes are shut. There is just enough light to see she has a tattoo on the inside of her wrist that is closest to the person taking the picture. It's a very large yin and yang symbol.

Maybe she is a willing participant, but the way that she is lying and her expressionless face… I would guess she isn't.

From this angle, I can see the man's black shirt, bare ass, and his left hand on the bed. His head is completely out of the frame, and it's challenging to discern any distinguishable features.

It doesn't look like he has done anything.

Yet.

But his intentions are clear.

I wonder if my brother stopped it. Or if he let it play out a little further and has better proof. I shudder, I seriously hope he stepped in. That this poor girl doesn't have to live with an unbearable trauma.

A knife twists in my gut. How did my brother get this picture? How did he know he needed it?

Everything is screaming at me that the person in this picture is Maxwell. They have the same class ring for fuck's sake. But I have minimal proof and a grainy picture of the back of an ass, a back, and a single hand is not much to go on.

My phone lights up.

A knock on my bathroom door startles me.

"Sunday? You getting ready? We are meeting Grayson at the marina soon." Darius's voice holds an edge I am not used to.

"I'll be right out." I lean forward and flush the toilet.

He doesn't say anything else, and I listen for his retreat, but I don't hear it.

Fucking overbearing brothers.

I glance down at my phone, and I can see that there are several notifications. Ones that I desperately want to investigate but not with Darius feet away.

I still don't fully trust them. There is something in my gut pulsating with anxiety anytime I am near them.

I am too comfortable around them and as asinine as that sounds, it leaves me on edge.

I curse under my breath, I swap the SIM cards back, stuff the items into the giraffe and hide the stuffed animal in my tits.

Sorry, Auggie .

He would kill me if he were still alive for putting his precious stuffie there.

I wash my hands before stepping into my bedroom.

Darius looks up from the letter he has in his hands. It's the one from Tripp.

He has a distant, wistful smile on his face. And for a moment he looks much older than his age.

"Tripp always did have a way with words," he laughs jokingly.

I step forward and go to take the letter from him, but with his free hand, he catches me by the wrist.

His dark critical eyes trap mine as he sets the letter down and slowly pulls me to him until I am standing in between his thighs.

With him sitting, I don't have to look down; we are eye level. I enjoy the equal footing. It feels like less of a power imbalance.

I am not sure what I expect him to do, but it's definitely not pat me down.

His free hand taps both my front pockets first and then my back ones.

Annoyance shrouds his features. "But Tripp had one thing wrong–" Darius stops his obvious search of my person and instead catches me by the chin forcing me to stare into the depth of his eyes "–you're not a sunflower, you're a wildflower ." He seals his words with a kiss. His hot breath is the only warning I get before his full lips are pressing against mine. One hand catches in my curls, the other holds me by the waist as he deepens it.

His tongue pokes at the seam of my lips and even though I am expecting it, the coldness of his piercing causes me to gasp. He takes it as an invitation.

He is pushing into me, feeding from me, intoxicating me.

I feel like I am both underwater and up in the clouds.

After a few more moments one of his hands moves to cup my breasts and clarity punctures my thoughts. I pull away struggling for air. Was that a farce to search me? Confusion and unease crawl across my skin.

"Stop," I manage to wheeze out.

He immediately drops his hands, halting his exploration.

I won't meet his eyes. I don't want him to see the emotions that are swirling in mine, the suspicion. "You pinkie promised."

"I know." Darius leans forward, kissing my nose before standing up directly into my space. He stares down at me.

I refuse to meet his eyes.

He pecks the top of my head. "We're still friends ." He finally puts space between us and I am able to breathe again.

I don't watch him as he heads to the door, but I hear him pause before he closes it. "Get dressed, Wildflower ."