Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Dahlia

I ’m laying in the most comfortable bed ever. It feels as if a cloud and a hug had a baby together. No one broke into my room, nothing woke me up, and I didn’t break into a cold sweat from a nightmare.

Wait…

Blinking, I groan as I look around. This isn’t my room. Pushing myself up until I’m sitting against the mountain of pillows, it takes me way too long to get my mind to catch up. I haven’t slept well in months, because my apartment has become a hostile place.

If Percy wasn’t sure to ask too many questions, I’d have asked if I could sleep in her office.

As my gaze falls on Bronwyn and Jack sleeping propped against the wall by the door, it all comes flooding back. Leaning forward, I lay my head on my drawn up legs as I watch them. I’ve thought about both of them for so long, and they’ve been together this entire time.

I wanted them to have that support system though, it’s why I texted Jack.

Bronwyn was going to need someone to stay with if she left her father’s house. I know better than anyone that it takes money to survive, and I don’t wish the life I’ve had on anyone. It’s hard, lonely as fuck, and dangerous.

The walk home every night after dancing at the strip club is like a game of Russian roulette, but my apartment is even worse.

My stomach growls at me, reminding me I didn’t eat last night. I passed out too hard, there was no way I was going to be able to eat unless it was in my dreams.

My mind is bouncing from topic to topic, making the room spin as I shut my eyes against it. My body is so fucking weak. My hands clench, my nails digging into my palms as I try to dispel the dizziness.

I’ve gone too long surviving on too much caffeine and not enough food, and now my body is loudly complaining about it.

“Dolly?” Jack asks softly from the floor, but I keep my eyes closed, trying to hold back a whimper. I don’t think I could say anything to him if I wanted to.

I must have fucked karma with a rusty pole in another life for it to give me the life I’ve been living. My life has never been a walk in the park, but it was always the best when I had Bronwyn and Jack.

Forcing my eyes to open, I see he now has his chin propped up on his hands on the bedspread.

“Hey,” he says. “How did you sleep?”

“Like the dead,” I rasp, burying my face against my knee.

“I don’t really care for those words, but alright,” Jack grumbles. “You sound like you went on a bender. What’s wrong?”

“I’m probably crashing from too much caffeine,” I mutter, my words muffled by the blankets. “I’m trying to get the world to stop spinning. Ow.”

“Does your head hurt too?” he asks. Jack keeps his voice low, sounding completely different from the pushy asshole at the club. I’m contractually obligated to be here, but I think he’d have thrown me over his shoulder and walked out if I had refused him.

His fingers massage my scalp, helping the pounding that’s decided to take up residence in my skull now that I’m upright.

“Uh-huh,” I rasp, my eyes fluttering closed. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”

“I doubt you’d have wanted us to join you, and Bee and I didn’t want to leave last night,” Jack says.

Bronwyn groans from where she was sitting against the wall, and I crack my eyes open in time to watch her fucking crawl to the bed. It shouldn’t be sexy, but she’s in a sleep tank and panties and nothing else. I’ve always loved her body, her soul, and heart.

Ugh, I’m sappy and ridiculous.

I’m still wearing this skimpy teddy. It makes me crave more clothing, which is in my backpack. I figured I wouldn’t be naked the entire time, so I packed a few things. It reminds me of how threadbare everything is as I close my eyes against the obvious wealth just in this room.

It’s obvious to me not because Jack throws his money around, but because once you’ve been poor, it’s easy to tell the difference.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Bronwyn murmurs, her cool fingers brushing against my temples. It feels good, so I unthinkingly grasp her hand to keep it there.

“Her head hurts,” Jack rumbles. “We need to get you up and moving, Dolly. You need food, water, and a little caffeine because you’re going into some nasty withdrawals.”

Bronwyn massages my temples, making me whimper, because while it feels good, it also reminds me how long it’s been since anyone has touched me without hurting me. I’ve gone years without a hug or any kind of affection.

The last two months have been spent avoiding my roommates and being forced to provide their next high.

“I think I should change before I get out of bed,” I sigh. Unfortunately, the entire back of this damn teddy is open with its multiple straps covering absolutely nothing, and I vaguely remember throwing the robe away to the side while I was sleeping, because I’m no longer wearing it.

Jack’s firm fingers drag down my back, making me shiver as goosebumps appear down my skin. I’ve never had a man touch me without hurting me, even the private dances at the club insisted that the men couldn’t touch me.

At first, I was terrified of men because of what happened with Gareth. Everyone with a penis reminded me of him, until I had to force myself to dance for money. Then, the fear that everyone was an awful person began to fade, even while knowing how dangerous Detroit was.

If someone could die from being starved for touch, then I probably would have already.

“Brighton carries gorgeous lingerie in their department stores, don’t they?” Jack says. Bronwyn’s fingers freeze for a moment, and I open my eyes at his words.

“How did you know where I bought this?” I ask, struggling to focus despite the pain in my head. My eyes squint a little, as if that’ll help. The blinds are closed against the morning light, yet a caffeine withdrawal headache doesn’t seem to care.

My body wants coffee, desperately.

“I do the security for them,” he says as I turn to face him. The blanket drops to my waist, but he keeps his eyes on my face. “I asked my team to code an alert into the system. They’ve also been scouring traffic cameras and video feeds throughout Detroit, trying to find you for the last four years. You were never forgotten.”

“I’ve been too ashamed to,” he continues as I gaze at him in surprise. “I cleared Lorrie to add the coding to the security system months ago when we were creating it. She came to me with the idea, but I dropped the ball. Brighton has been having issues with shoplifters, so every face is scanned. What I should have done was code an alert to fucking detain her.”

“What the fuck?” I gasp. “You were just going to have me held like a criminal?”

“If it meant finding you?” Jack asks, a strangled laugh escaping him. His mismatched eyes are intense as he gazes at me. “I’d sacrifice the whole goddamn city if it meant finding you, baby girl. Bee and I have been less than whole these last four years, and I had this ridiculous idea that if you wanted to, you’d find us.”

“You moved,” I blurt out. “I caved one day and spent all of my money to get a rideshare out to see you. The buses don’t run to the house, so I blew most of my money. The house was sold. I decided it was for the better, and got the man to drive me to the nearest bus stop. I think he only did it because I was sobbing so hard.”

“Fuck,” Jack rasps. “I didn’t think of that… I sold the house because it was too sad. I bought it when I followed you here. After everything, it didn’t feel right to keep it.”

“We’ve been living in this apartment now,” Bee says sadly. “It’s as soulless as we feel. It’s got walls and the necessities, but I kind of hate it.”

“I’ve never had a problem picking you out of a crowd, Dolly,” Jack says, his voice tortured. “I can’t believe I didn’t see you.”

“I was across the street,” I sigh. “I saw your tattoos, and I was on my way back for a shift after buying myself a present. It ended up getting stolen like the rest of my shit, but I remember how shocked I was, watching you walk away.”

Jack’s chest is heaving with anger and self loathing, but I don’t know how to help him.

“I’m going to grab you some pajamas,” Bronwyn says, standing. “And Jack, you’re going to take a goddamn walk to the kitchen to make us breakfast and coffee. Your emotional shit has no business in this room right now.”

Jack jerks back as if she hit him but nods. “You’re right,” he grunts. “I’m going to be on your ass to drink water, Dolly. If I could just hook you up to a damn IV, I fucking would.”

His long legs take him out of the room, and I burst into tears. I can’t help it. God, I’m such a mess.

“Oh… oh no,” Bronwyn says, wrapping her arms around me. “He’ll be back, I wanted to give you a break. There’s been a lot of truth bombing during this conversation, and you deserve a breath and caffeine.”

“Coffee is good,” I mumble, gasping in air. “God, I don’t know what to feel right now. At some point, I stopped looking because I think your dad is looking for me. I shouldn’t even be here.”

“He’s not my dad, not anymore,” she says, scooting onto the bed. “Jack helped me change my name. I go by Bowen now. I gave everything up, because I wanted nothing to do with Gareth. You’re safe here. That bastard won’t find you even if he is looking.”

“Bowen…” I trail off, pulling away as I blink away the moisture on my lashes.

“Are you mad?” Bronwyn asks timidly. “I’m in school for psychology, with plans to do counseling after grad school. I, ah, work at the Keller Crisis Center. I remember thinking it might be you, but your voice sounded deeper that day.”

“My apartment doesn’t have any heating, so my voice always gets raspy in the winters now,” I explain, watching as she fidgets. “I should get changed. I’m dying for a shower, though.”

Dodging my roommates has meant taking very quick showers in freezing water in my apartment, because the water takes too long to warm, or even using the club bathroom’s shower stalls.

I don’t know why Percy has them for employees, but I really appreciated them while I was homeless.

“Done,” Bronwyn says, brushing away a stray tear. I can see that she’s really trying to hold it together without leaking errant emotions. I’m already overstimulated and overwhelmed by everything.

It’s difficult to know how I’m feeling when I’m also sensing other people’s emotions as well. I can’t turn off my empathy around Jack and Bronwyn because I care so much about them, but I need to get my head on straight.

Too much has happened, and I need all the facts before I start trying to wade through all the emotional shit too.

Standing, I follow her to the bathroom, my thoughts still reeling. I almost bump into the door because my balance is fucked. I’m weak and still so exhausted. Bronwyn simply wraps her arm around me to keep me steady as we walk.

“Do you need help in there?” she asks, brushing a curl off my forehead. I shake my head, because I’m not ready for her to see my body. Even when we were together, I hid from her, focused on her.

It’s hard to believe that I strip for a living, but the idea of taking off my clothes in front of my ex-girlfriend is hard for me to wrap my head around. Leaving her at the door, I close it before I pull off the lingerie, sighing as I drop it on the counter.

The bathroom is beautiful, especially for a hallway one. The floor is heated, the lights set with LED lighting behind the long mirror. It would be perfect to do your makeup in, but still shows off all the bruises I’ve been trying to hide. Fantastic.

Turning away from the gray and pearly white wallpaper surrounding me, I turn on the shower. It’s a pretty stall with a clear door semi open, waiting for me to step inside. There are towels in a wall-mounted rack within reach of the entrance of the shower, so I step inside.

The water is warm as it falls from the rainfall above me, and there’s the option to turn on another valve for the hand held shower head. This bathroom is one of the fanciest that I’ve stepped into in a long time.

Simply happy to be taking a warm shower, I wash my face of the makeup, and my hair of all the products. I just want to be me when I sit across the table from Bronwyn and Jack. I’m also not sure what I feel right now when it comes to Jack.

He was my protector, my person, but to really come face to face with him and notice how gorgeous he is…

It’s confusing.

Story of my life.

A light tap at the door alerts me that I’ve lost track of time, and I’m so clean, I may be pruney. The water felt really good though, I just let it wash over my face to relieve the throbbing from the headache.

“Almost done,” I call out, reminding myself I’m not in my apartment. No one is going to come barging in.

“Food and coffee is ready,” Jack says gruffly from the other side of the door. “Bee left clothes at the door, too. You need anything?”

“No,” I say, my lips twitching. What is he going to help with? “I’m getting out now.”

Turning off the water, I sigh as I open the door to grab a towel. “Goodbye shower,” I whisper wistfully.

I’m a realist. I may be here, talking to Bronwyn and Jack, but there’s been so much that’s happened. It’s also very evident that they’re together. They went shopping for “merchandise” together for a weekend.

I don’t think there’s room for me, other than maybe a long distance friend.

Drying myself off, I think about still taking the money at the end of the weekend and moving to Florida, getting out of here and beginning a new life. My heart cramps so hard I whimper, covering my chest with my hand.

Is it possible to feel emotion and pain so strong that it takes your breath away. Only, I feel as if I got punched in my side. I’m unfortunately quite familiar with the pain.

“Dahlia,” Jack barks, surprising me. “Did you hurt yourself?”

Gasping in a breath, I shake my head. Fuck, he can’t see me. “Stubbed my toe,” I lie, wrapping my towel around myself just in time to be covered up when he unlocks the door and pushes it open.

My eyes widen as his body seems to take up both mass and air as I gaze at him.

“One thing we’re not going to fucking do today is lie to each other, Dolly. Yeah?” he growls.

“Yeah,” I whisper, blinking as he shoves the small pile of clothing at me. “I didn’t hurt myself.”

“You’re so stubborn,” he says, watching as I hold the pajamas against my body. “My Dolly radar is kicking back on, baby. I’m prepared to crawl so far inside your body, you’ll never be able to get me to leave.”

“Baby?” I ask, my heart thumping hard in my chest. He can’t mean it in the romantic sense, right? I know how good it felt when his fingers brushed my skin, but that had to be one sided.

My mind is firing in a million directions. Jack and I haven’t been anything more than friends. That doesn’t just change, right?

“Is that so surprising?” he asks, stepping further into the room. “You’re fucking stunning, Dolly. You have to know that. I never thought of you as anything but my best friend’s daughter for all the years I was around you. I swear it. I’m not?—”

“I know that,” I yell, breathing hard, not wanting him to ever say that he’s anything like Gareth. “You’re nothing like him. I would never say you were. I’m just trying to understand.”

His eyes are intense and gorgeous, the one blue, one green a sight that has followed me over the years.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “We’ll talk in the kitchen.”

Jack retreats from the bathroom, closing the door behind him as I deflate. Dressing, I think about his words. I understand in a way that Bronwyn and Jack reached for each other when I ran away. We were all such a big part of each other’s lives, and trauma has a way of binding people together.

So does alcohol… My thoughts are snarky as they creep in, and I look down at the pretty purple pajamas I’m wearing. I don’t have panties or a bra, so my breasts bounce slightly as I walk. The pajama set Bronwyn gave me is buttery soft, without any kind of adornment.

The most important thing is that I’m covered and comfortable. There’s a spare, brand new toothbrush still in the package on the counter I didn’t notice earlier.

“Oh thank God,” I murmur, popping out the package and grabbing the mini toothpaste. Minutes later, I almost feel like a person as I step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Bronwyn is leaning against the wall waiting for me, and I raise my brow.

“Jack and I both think we’re going to blink and you’ll disappear,” she rasps. I realize then she’s been crying, and she hurries to dash away her tears. “It’s silly. You’re actually here. Anyway, I figured I was a better option to wait outside than the big, growly bear.”

“I’m counting your spankings,” Jack yells from the kitchen, making her stifle a giggle.

Hmm, cute. “Wait, is he serious?” I hiss, letting Bronwyn lead me to the kitchen.

“As in, has he? Not yet, but I haven’t really taken it off the table,” she says with a shrug.

Processing that as I sit at the kitchen island, I survey the array of food that Jack’s made. There’s omelets, bacon, English muffins, and baby potatoes with onions set on plates. Jack slides one in front of me with a steaming mug of coffee. I’m not sure how it’s dressed the way I like, I glance up at him.

“I don’t know if you still like it the way you used to, but I took a stab at it,” he says with a lazy grin, stabbing a potato and popping it into his mouth.

I think that smile could break a lot of hearts, and I hide the blush in my cheeks by taking a sip of my coffee. Moaning, I close my eyes because it’s fucking amazing. I’ve been drinking some really terrible coffee over the years.

“I take it that it’s the way you like it,” Bronwyn teases as she sits next to me.

“I want to have a baby with this cup of coffee,” I tell her happily, taking another sip before beginning to eat.

“I am going to hold that close to my heart then,” Jack muses, eyes sparkling. “I’m not going to hold you hostage because of this auction thing, you know. I do wish you’d stay, talk with us, and see where things go though.”

“Where they’ll go?” I ask. “It seems pretty clear you and Bronwyn are together. I don’t really understand, Jack. It also doesn’t change my plans for the money I get from the auction.”

Jack growls under his breath, and I swear I can hear him counting and grumbling about my spankings. Oh fuck.

Swallowing hard, I force myself not to fidget as I eat.

“Well, let me break this down, then. I will come back to the second part of what you said in a moment. I’m not senile, and I will remember. We have a lot to figure out before then, but this is what I want,” he begins.

Bronwyn looks at him nervously, but doesn’t say anything. “You and Bee have the type of history that doesn’t just go away. I had the privilege of watching you two fall in love. It’s a pure, sweet love. I know that’s never gone away for her.”

“It hasn’t,” she mumbles. “It’s been a really long, hard few years away from you.”

She has no idea.

“I’ve loved you since the day I saw your scrunched up baby face when your dad handed you to me,” he says. “I knew I would always be there for you. And then…I failed. I fucked up and it’s never been the same. It’s become an obsession to find you, and my feelings have changed.”

“You didn’t fail,” I tell him, pushing away my food. Thankfully I managed to eat most of it, because my stomach was beginning to cramp from hunger.

“No, stop.” I lift my hand as I shake my head. “I went into the house. I knew what he was capable of, and I went in because of the consequences that would happen if I didn’t.”

“You knew he was going to hurt you?” Bronwyn asks, confused.

“I didn’t think he’d take it as far as he did,” I admit, desperately hoping I’m not going to puke up this delicious food. I know it’ll hurt, and the last thing I need is to be afraid to eat.

“Gareth was threatening my mother, Jack, and you. While you were gone, he’d pretend to stab her when she wasn’t looking at dinner. He’d allude to doing to you what he’d do to me, and I just… I couldn’t not go back into that house.”

Jack drops his head as he listens, the muscles of his arms bunching as his hands grip the counter tightly.

“Anyway, I wanted you to know that you couldn’t have changed what happened to me,” I whisper. “It was just so much worse than I thought it would be when I went inside that night.”

“You don’t have to tell us, but they said anal was a hard limit and you’re a virgin. I have to admit that I’m drawing a lot of conclusions here,” he rumbles, his gaze tortured as he gazes up at me from his lowered head.

Swallowing hard, I nod.

“I am a virgin,” I say. I know he said that I didn’t need to tell them. However, they need to know some of it before they decide they want me, if that’s where this is going. “He raped my ass repeatedly, and I bled for days afterward. I couldn’t go to the hospital, I was homeless, so it was a very uncomfortable experience.”

“Uncomfortable,” Jack repeats. “I feel like you’re dissociating from what happened.”

“No using my textbooks against her,” Bronwyn barks at him. “Let her talk about it however she fucking needs to. You don’t get to decide what emotions or feelings you think she needs to have to get the words out.”

Jack looks appropriately chastised as he nods. “You’re right,” he says. “I’m freaking out, but you do not need to be on my level to tell me what happened.”

“Thank you,” I rasp. Maybe I am pulling away from what happened, but I have to. Otherwise, I would have my own little padded room somewhere.

The world moves on.

It has to, right?

Jack

Rage, sadness, and shame. These are the emotions at the forefront of my mind, cycling through repeatedly at a rapid pace. I feel as if I’m losing my mind as I ping-pong back and forth. I need to talk about something else, anything else.

“I need a second,” I mutter. “You said that you were still doing what you planned to do with the money. Can you tell me about that?”

I need to move, start the dishes, but I don’t want to miss a single word of what she has to say.

“You’re not going to like it,” Dahlia sighs, leaning back in her seat. I tell myself that no matter what she says, I’m going to grit my teeth and keep my mouth shut. I don’t have to like what she tells me, but I can keep her from regretting that she told me.

It’s really just that simple.

“Fine,” she murmurs when I mime zipping my mouth shut. It’s corny, though effective. “So I live in Belmont…”

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to keep my mouth shut as she trails off, testing me. Belmont is one of the worst places in Detroit to live in. Fuck. Now I know why I didn’t find her earlier.

“Good boy,” Dahlia taunts, smirking. Bee simply shakes her head, knowing I’m trying. “I was homeless for a little over a year after I left. I hopped from shelter to shelter when it got cold, or squatted in abandoned warehouses. I saw there was a sign at Percy’s club looking for girls, so I went in and applied. I lied about my age so I could dance.”

She pauses, but I impassively wait her out. Inside, I’m dying. Dahlia started stripping for money at seventeen-years-old. Fuck. There’s good money in it, and it was a smart way to get off the streets, but I guess I just don’t understand why she’s in such bad shape if she’s making good money.

“That’s what you meant when you said you had a shift on the phone,” Bronwyn mentions, her eyes cutting over to me. Blinking, I nod, telling her I remember the call she told me about.

So that really was Dahlia.

“Oh? Yes,” Dahlia says. Somehow, I feel as if this part is done for my benefit, and that they already spoke. I appreciate the effort to keep me looped in, I’m used to them having their secrets.

It doesn’t bother me at all.

“I made enough in a night to be able to get an apartment with a couple other people. They had an opening and the rent wasn’t half bad,” she explains. There are shadows in her eyes that tell me there’s more to the story, and I can feel myself growling.

“Pipe down, Jack. I’m still talking. It’s my story.”

My hands twitch, forcing me to straighten and shake them out.

“I know, I know, Dolly. I’m not saying shit, even though you’re leaving things out.”

Bronwyn gazes hard at Dolly, as if rewinding the last few minutes in her head. “Huh,” she mutters. “He’s right. His Dolly radar is still disturbingly good.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dolly complains. “Fine. Frankie, one of my roommates, is a dick. The three of them are drug users, and he made me give him my first blow job, because he insisted I didn’t have enough money. I did it because I knew we were having a huge snowstorm that night. Happy?”

“Not even a little,” I grunt, knowing there’s a blood vessel beginning to throb in my forehead. Dolly’s eyes stray to it, and she shifts in her chair. “Thank you for telling me.”

Nodding sharply, she continues, “The guys regularly ransack my room, steal money, break my shit. I bought a safe, and while that helps, they’ll catch me on my way into the apartment from work, so they can steal what I have on me. It’s an endless cycle, one I’m sick of. It doesn’t matter how many shifts I work, they’re still going to find a way to hurt me.”

“Hurt you?” Bronwyn asks, eyes wide. “How?”

“Frankie likes to throw me around when he can catch me. I started sneaking in when they weren’t home, but lately it’s not enough. So I stopped sleeping,” Dolly says as if it’s as simple as that.

“I mainline caffeine, take naps when I can, and shower when I know they won’t be there, or at the club. I pay rent on time, but this month they forced me to open my safe at knife point. I have to get the fuck out of here. There’s too many memories.”

I know Bee and I are a part of those, but I keep my mouth shut. I trust Bee to ask what we need to know. She’s not as intense as I am.

“Where will you go?” she asks softly. “What do you want to do there?”

“I’ve been trying to get my GED,” Dolly explains. “I want to go back to school, but staying alive is a full time job. I was thinking about going back to Florida, getting into community college, and figuring out what I want there. The cold weather makes it too hard to keep my head above water when life kicks me in the face.”

She states this all in an even tone, as if it’s perfectly normal for an almost twenty-year-old to struggle this hard.

“That’s why you decided to do this auction?” I ask, my tone soft and careful.

“Yes,” she says. “There was a guy outside of work who handed me a card, and told me the auction was real and legitimate. Although I never have, there are women at the club who offer ‘extras’ in exchange for money. I’ve never been interested in doing that because of my history, but five hundred thousand dollars was guaranteed for one weekend of sex… I decided that I could sell my virginity for that.”

My hands rake through my hair because Dahlia Moore is the smartest, bravest person that I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. She’s one of the most infuriating people as well.

“Fuck me,” I groan. “Is there anything else I need to know before I clean up the kitchen? This is the equivalent of rage cleaning, but I’m not angry at you. It’s more like processing.”

“You’re so well adjusted,” Dolly mutters, shaking her head.

“He kind of is, isn’t he?” Bronwyn chuckles. “Don't worry, he has his bullshit too. I can’t have you thinking he’s perfect or anything.”

“Fuck, babe, if I had feelings about that I’d be hurt,” I tease her. I try to be self aware, but I know I’ve hurt Bee over the years. It wasn’t healthy to use each other, string her along, and push her away.

We’ve slowly moved into a better place since February. I know Dolly is going to shake things up, I just need to make sure they both understand how much they mean to me. It’s a complicated mess.

“Noted,” Dolly says with a smirk. “I don’t think there’s anything else.”

“When was the last time you had a real meal or sleep?” I ask, beginning to clear dishes.

“Uh, February,” she replies. “I think they lost their jobs, so there was this increased need for more drugs and money. They stole thousands of dollars from me. I tried keeping it at Percy’s, in my locker, but they told me if I wasn’t bringing home money that they’d sell me to their friends. I refused to go home after that.”

“I don’t want you to go home,” Bronwyn squeaks, the emotion riding her voice hard. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, but she manages to hold them back. “Stay with us for the weekend, because you want to, not because of the money.”

“I just found you, I’m not leaving yet,” Dolly reassures her. “What was the winning bid anyway?”

I clamp my lips together because I don’t want to tell her, but Bee answers her.

“Three million dollars,” she says. “There was no way anyone else was going to win, Dahlia. Not in a million years.”

Smirking as I watch the surprise and shock in Dolly’s face, I wipe off the counters and fill up water bottles to take into the living room.

“Drink,” I grunt, placing the bottles in front of them. I grab a glass and fill it with water, chugging it before cleaning it and placing it in the drying rack. “Let’s go to the living room and we can keep talking. It’s more comfortable.”

“Yes, and you can watch us drink our water,” Bronwyn teases as she takes a sip of the ice cold liquid. I don’t miss her small moan as she slides off the chair.

Dolly raises her brow, but sips her water as she moves to the living room.

“So that’s everything?” I ask once we’re settled.

Shrugging, she nods. “That’s everything I can think of at the moment,” Dahlia says tiredly.

Trauma dumping is exhausting, so I don’t blame her at all.

“Okay,” I say, taking a breath. “Bee, if you could have anything, what would you want?”

“In general?” she asks. At my nod, Bee grins. “I would want Dahlia back in my life. I miss you every day. I know you may be different, there may be secrets, but I don’t care. It must have been such a shock to see Jack and I together at the auction…”

Realizing that Bee is leading somewhere, I glance at Dolly who nods. “My thoughts were muddled and I was struggling to make sure I told you everything I could before I left the mansion,” she explains. “Somehow, I never thought you two would end up together romantically. It threw me.”

“It was never supposed to be us,” I say gently. “You and Bee were happy. If life had happened differently, I’m sure you’d be insanely happy and planning your life. I should be a better man and bow out, but I’m not. I’m a possessive man. I want you both.”

I don’t mention love, because I can’t. I don’t completely understand how I feel for Bee. She’s the first person I reach for every day, I worry about her safety, and who I speak to about my life.

There’s no one else who knows me better than she does. Asking myself how I’d feel without her, my heart constricts so hard, I grunt with pain. The girls look at me with different emotions on their faces, and I breathe through it all, not ready to voice what I’m feeling.

They can wonder for a bit.

“What do you mean by that?” Dahlia asks carefully. “I need you to spell it out for me.”

“I want to date you both,” I tell her honestly. “I’ve never spent time with you as an adult, and I want to explore the feelings that I’m having for you.”

“And I’ve never stopped loving you,” Bee says. “I reached for Jack because I didn’t know how to handle how I felt, but I care about him. I’m sorry?—”

“No, don’t be sorry,” Dahlia says gruffly. I watch to see if she’s going to blow up on Bee, because her emotions have a way of swinging volatilely when she’s feeling raw.

“There is no reason why we should have both been alone. I’m not that selfish. I’m very glad that you two found each other, Bronwyn. I just don’t know if I fit into that.”

“Dolly, there’s been a you-shaped space in our relationship the entire time,” I tell her. “I know that’s an odd thing to say…”

“But it’s how I feel too,” Bee explains. “I wondered how you were all the time, or what you were doing.”

Grimacing, I know I have to say something. “I told her it had been four years, if you wanted to find us you would. However, it’s clear to me that I was wrong. I was projecting, because I was looking for you in every way possible. I fucking hate hitting dead ends.”

“I was hiding,” Dolly says sheepishly. “I always have this feeling that I’m being watched, and I think Gareth has hired people to find me. Strange men who have no business being in Belmont have shown up here and there. It’s enough to tell me that my paranoia is healthy.”

“It’s not paranoia if it’s actually happening,” Bee says. “Look, you have to be exhausted. Are you okay to stay through the weekend, see where things go? I’m with Jack on this. I want both of you equally. I never want to choose. I play for keeps.”

The words echo in my mind as I nod. “I can think of nothing better than to call you both mine,” I growl. I’m not blind, I notice the hitched breath Bee and Dolly both take and the flush of arousal.

They’re going to be so much fun together. This weekend may be a minefield, but I know I’m not going to want to give Dolly up at the end of it.

“Are you willing, baby girl?” I rumble, my gaze intently on her.

“God, why do you have to say it like that?” Dolly whispers. “All I can think about are dirty things.”

Smirking, I chuckle. “Dirty things can definitely be on the table,” I say.

“Yes,” she says with a deep breath. “I’m in.”