Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

SALEM

T he kitchen buzzed with activity, the air filled with the savory aroma of spices and the rhythmic clink of utensils against pots and pans. Tonight, it was my turn to cook, and I was grateful to be back in my domain. Cohen joined me, his presence both comforting and distracting at the same time. My menu for the evening was an easy favorite—a hearty beef stew accompanied by roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread.

I stood at the center of the kitchen island, orchestrating the chaos with practiced ease. With my sleeves rolled up, I chopped vegetables with precision, the sharp knife slicing through carrots and celery with satisfying crunches. Meanwhile, Cohen maneuvered around me as he tended to the bubbling pots on the stove.

As I chopped vegetables, I reflected on the complicated feelings swirling inside me. What had started as a simple arrangement between the guys and me had evolved into something much deeper. I couldn't deny the connection I felt with Cohen and the others, a bond that went beyond just sex.

Despite my best efforts to keep things casual, I found myself falling for them in ways I never anticipated. It was a frightening realization, one that left me feeling vulnerable and exposed.

I had spent so long pushing people away, building walls around my heart to protect myself from getting hurt, and now it was all crumbling down.

I knew that the guys were aware of what had transpired between me and Mateo and then Cole, but now I had added Cohen to the mix, and things were getting complicated. Maybe it was time to have a conversation with them all, as daunting as it seemed. Because the truth was, I wanted Lennox as well.

I couldn't choose just one of them. Each of them held a different piece of my heart, and the thought of hurting any of them filled me with dread. I feared that opening up about my feelings would only lead to confusion and conflict among us.

I had only just begun to acclimate to the idea of having a support system, people who cared for me and stood by me through it all. The idea of jeopardizing those relationships was terrifying.

Cohen's gentle touch brought my mind back to the task at hand. His fingers grazed mine as he reached for a jar of spice before turning to adjust the heat on the stove. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment.

The stew simmered away on the stove, filling the kitchen with its rich, savory scent. I stirred the pot with a wooden spoon. The thick broth swirled with chunks of tender beef and colorful vegetables. Cohen leaned in to take a whiff, and his eyes lit up with anticipation at the promise of the hearty meal to come.

As the vegetables roasted in the oven, their earthy aroma mingling with the heady scent of garlic and herbs, Cohen and I worked in tandem to prepare the rest of the meal. His strong hands kneaded the soft dough for the bread until it was smooth and elastic. I tossed the roasted vegetables with olive oil and herbs, the vibrant colors of the peppers and zucchini glistening in the soft light of the kitchen.

As the meal came together, the scent of spices and herbs filling the air, I stole glances at Cohen whenever I thought he wasn't looking. He caught me more than once, his gaze warm and inviting, and I blushed under his scrutiny.

We had so far skirted around talking about what we had done in the pool. Yet, despite our silence, there was a palpable shift in the atmosphere, as if the water had stirred something within us that could not be ignored. It was as though, in breaching that boundary, we had unleashed a torrent of unspoken desires.

Beside me, Cohen gave the food a final inspection, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Looks amazing, Salem," he said, a smile flirting with the edges of his lips. "They're gonna love it."

I grinned back at him, pride swelling within me. Cooking wasn't just a chore for me; it was my therapy, my escape, and my passion all rolled into one.

Cohen then left the kitchen to inform the others that dinner was ready, leaving me to my own musings. Even amid the constant challenges we faced, moments like these showed me that we were more than just coincidental companions. We were becoming a family, bound by our collective struggles and the unbreakable connections that tied us together.

Gradually, the rest of the group filtered into the dining room, their faces lighting up with anticipation at the sight of the spread before them. Lennox and Cole arrived first, their jovial banter infusing the room with warmth as they settled into their seats.

"Smells incredible, Salem," Lennox remarked, offering me a grateful smile.

Cole nodded in agreement, already reaching for a piece of bread. "Yeah, you've really outdone yourself this time."

Mateo entered the room with Loki strapped to him in that damn baby wrap, his laidback grin putting everyone at ease. "Can't wait to dig in," he declared, taking his place beside Cole after letting Loki down.

Fallon joined the gathering next, her expression softening at the sight of the culinary display. "Wow, this looks amazing, Salem," she remarked, genuine appreciation shining in her eyes.

It was times like these that made the hardships we endured seem worthwhile, if only for a fleeting moment.

As we indulged in the meal, the atmosphere underwent a transformation. With each passing minute and every empty plate, the mood in the room lightened considerably.

Amid the savory bites, the conversation shifted to lighter subjects, and the notion of a vacation arose.

"You know," Cole mused between mouthfuls, "once this is all over, we should plan a getaway. Somewhere to just fucking kick back and relax."

Lennox nodded eagerly, a spark of enthusiasm in his eyes. "Sounds like a plan. We could all use a break from the chaos."

Cohen grinned, casting a mischievous glance in my direction. "Yeah, and Salem could finally get that tan she's been trying to achieve."

I rolled my eyes, swatting him playfully. "Hey, not my fault you interrupted my tanning session."

Lennox chuckled, raising his glass. "As long as someone other than Fallon is in charge of planning. Remember the last time she organized our vacation? We ended up staying in that fucking creepy haunted house."

Laughter erupted around the table at the memory, Fallon included. "How was I supposed to know my two brothers were little scaredy cats?"

Cole shook his head, still chuckling. "Yeah, well, I don't know how anyone can sleep in a place like that."

We continued to reminisce about past vacations, each anecdote evoking a smile. Midway through the meal, Cole interrupted the easy banter with a question. "So, Salem, any plans for tomorrow?"

I glanced up from my plate, a sarcastic retort already forming on my lips. "Oh, I don't know, Cole. Maybe I'll take another exciting stroll around the estate?"

My words came out sharper than intended, and I immediately regretted them. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, their expressions a mix of surprise and concern.

Raising an eyebrow, Cole responded with amusement. "Ah, the thrilling life of a prisoner. At least you haven't had to resort to counting tiles."

Embarrassment flushed my cheeks, and I diverted my gaze to my plate, overwhelmed with guilt. They had all been making an effort to keep me entertained, and here I was, complaining like a spoiled child.

But I detested feeling trapped, confined within these walls with no means of escape. It stirred memories of my childhood, when my father locked me in that cell, controlling every aspect of my life.

Lennox sighed, setting down his fork with a clatter. "I thought you were getting over this, Salem."

His words struck a nerve, and my temper flared. "Easy for you to say, Lennox. You're not the one stuck here, day in and day out, while the rest of you still get to go ahead with business as usual."

Lennox's jaw tightened, his expression hardening. "I seem to recall offering you a way to pass the day. More than once, in fact."

His accusation stung, igniting my anger. "And what? I'm supposed to be grateful? Just because you generously offer me a means of entertainment in this gilded prison doesn't mean I'm content being locked away."

The tension in the room grew palpable, a suffocating silence descending upon us. Regret twisted in my chest; I hadn't intended to throw his gift in his face.

"You're being unreasonable," Lennox asserted, frustration evident in his voice. "We're not trying to lock you away. We're trying to keep you safe."

I scoffed, my temper flaring. "You do know I have been keeping myself safe for years without you?"

Lennox's voice rose with each word. "That's beside the point. We can't afford to take unnecessary risks. You may be capable of taking care of yourself, but that doesn't mean you should have to."

My fists clenched at my sides. "And what? You think I'm incapable of staying under the radar? That I need you to hold my hand every step of the way?"

His expression hardened. "It's not about your skills. It's about strategy. We're minimizing risks, and that means keeping you here out of fucking sight."

Frustration boiled within me. "What's next, Lennox? Want me to steer clear of the windows, too?"

Lennox's tone softened. "It's only for a week, Salem. Can't you just suck it up and deal with it?"

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, a rush of resentment bubbling up inside me. "You don't get it. You never did. You have no idea what it's like to be trapped, to have your every move dictated by someone else. I promised myself I would never allow that to happen to me again."

Lennox's expression darkened, his frustration evident in the lines of his face. "Do not compare me to your father. This situation is entirely different, and you know it."

I shook my head, my voice trembling with emotion. "No, Lennox. All I see is you trying to control me, just like him."

The room fell silent, our argument hanging heavy in the air between us. I could see the hurt in Lennox's eyes, a pang of regret twirled like a snake in my gut. But even as guilt gnawed at me, I couldn't bring myself to apologize.

I knew I was being stubborn, and my pride was getting in the way of me seeing reason. But I couldn't help feeling like I was fighting for something more than just my own freedom. I was fighting for my dignity, for the right to make my own choices and live my life on my own terms.

Just when it felt like the silence was about to suffocate us, Fallon broke the tension with a bright smile. "Alright, enough of this," she declared, clapping her hands together. "I think Salem and I are well overdue for a girls' night."

I blinked in surprise, caught off guard by Fallon's sudden proclamation. "Girls' night?" I repeated, my confusion evident in my voice.

She nodded, her grin widening. "Yep. We're going to have some fun and forget about all this drama for a while. And you boys," she said, turning to address Cohen, Lennox, Cole, and Mateo, "are on cleanup duty."

Cohen raised an eyebrow, but before he could protest, Fallon grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the table. "Come on, bestie."

I glanced back at the boys, who were already starting to clear away the dishes with resigned expressions. I shrugged, following Fallon out of the kitchen and down the hallway, the tension slowly dissipating with each step we took.

As we entered Fallon's room, relief enveloped me. This was just what I needed.

Fallon flopped down onto her bed, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she passed me the remote

"Alright, Salem, pick your poison," she said, a smirk playing on her lips.

I chuckled, scanning the titles on the screen. "Let's see… How about some true crime documentaries?" I suggested, knowing Fallon's penchant for all things dark and twisted.

Her grin widened, and she nodded eagerly. "Sounds perfect. You know me too well."

With a nod of agreement, I pressed play, sinking down onto the bed beside Fallon as the screen flickered to life. The tales of murder and mystery unfolded before us, and I lost myself in the intrigue, the tension of the stories matching the atmosphere of the room.

Just as we were getting into the thick of it, there was a soft knock at the door, and Cole poked his head inside, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

"Hey, ladies," he said, holding up a jug of margaritas and a platter of snacks. "Thought you might need some refreshments."

Fallon's face lit up at the sight of the drinks, and she practically bounced off the bed to grab a glass. "I've trained you well, Cole," she said, taking a grateful sip of the icy cocktail.

He grinned, setting the jug and snacks down on the bedside table. "Anything for my favorite girls," he said, winking at us before disappearing back into the hallway.

As the night wore on, Cole made several more appearances, each time bringing with him a fresh batch of margaritas and a handful of snacks. With each sip of the tart drink and each bite of chocolate, I felt the tension on my shoulders melt away, replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling of contentment.

At one point, Fallon leaned back against the pillows, a dreamy smile on her face as she surveyed the scene before her. "Is there a better combination than margaritas, chocolate, and true crime?" she mused, her voice soft with satisfaction.

I laughed, nodding in agreement. "Definitely not. It's like the ultimate comfort trifecta."

We continued to watch the documentaries well into the night, the stories growing darker and more twisted with each passing hour.

As the final credits for the latest one rolled, Fallon stretched out on the bed, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. "That was amazing," she said, turning to me with a grin. "Now it's time for you to tell me what's up. Dinner was intense."

I hesitated, unsure of how to put my feelings into words.

"I don't know," I confessed, my voice just beyond a whisper. "I guess I just… I'm struggling, you know? With everything."

Fallon nodded understandingly. "I get it. It's hard, especially when you're used to being on your own. But you've been doing so well lately. I thought you were starting to trust the guys again, to work as a team with them."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I know. And it isn't them, really. I mean, logically, I know they're just trying to keep me safe. But…"

"But what?" Fallon prompted, her gaze steady on mine.

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat. "Knowing that I'm stuck here, confined to the estate with no way out. It brings back memories of… of my past, of being trapped and controlled by my father."

Fallon's expression softened, sympathy shining in her eyes. "I am so sorry, Salem. I didn't realize you would see it like that. None of us will make you stay here if it really is that triggering for you."

I shook my head, brushing off her apology. "You have nothing to apologize for. I know I'm being a brat, complaining about a week in a luxury estate. I know the situation is completely different. I just feel so out of control, and I don't know how to deal with it."

Fallon reached out, squeezing my hand in a comforting gesture. "I know. And I'm here for you, okay? Whatever you need, you just have to tell me, and I'll sort it out. If you need me to break you out of here, you got it. If you need me to kick my brother's ass, just say the word."

I managed a weak smile, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Fallon. But it isn't Lennox's fault. It's mine. I just need to figure out how to deal with my shit."

Fallon nodded, understanding flickering in her eyes. "Well, you aren't alone, Salem. We're all here for you, no matter what."

I took a deep breath. "Thank you. I'd be lost without you."

Fallon laughed, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "Likewise, bestie."

I felt reluctant to leave the cocoon of comfort we'd created. But as Fallon yawned and stretched, I knew that I should head to bed.

With a contented sigh, I gathered up the empty glasses and plates and wished Fallon goodnight. A smile played on my lips as I took everything to the kitchen.

I placed the last of the empty dishes in the dishwasher and glanced at the table where we had all eaten. Dinner had been a disaster, and it was completely my fault.

With a heavy sigh, I made my way to my bedroom, the events of the evening replaying in my mind like a broken record. I pushed open the door, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of Lennox sitting at the end of my bed, his expression unreadable.

Immediately, I felt a rush of anxiety flood through me, knowing that I owed him an apology for my earlier behavior. "Lennox, I'm so sorry," I blurted out before he even had a chance to speak. "I didn't mean to compare you to my father. I know you're nothing like him, and I?—"

Lennox cut me off with a shake of his head, his eyes softening as he rose from the bed and approached me. Before I could continue, he backed me into the wall, caging me with his arms on either side of me. My apology died on my tongue as he placed a finger to my lips.

His presence commanded attention even in the dim light of my room. His shirt was rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms corded with lean muscle. His suit pants hung perfectly tailored, accentuating his trim waist and the confident way he carried himself.

His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, held a depth of intensity that drew me in, sparking a flicker of something deep within my chest.

"I know, Salem," he said softly. "You don't need to waste your apologies on me. I know you need an outlet, and if you need to direct your anger at me, then do it."

I shook my head, feeling a swell of emotion rise in my chest. "But that's not fair to you," I protested, my voice trembling. "I'll try to work my shit out, I promise."

Lennox reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. "Salem, I don't want you to apologize for being yourself," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You're allowed to be angry, to be frustrated."

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat at his words. "Thank you," I whispered.

Lennox gave me a small nod before stepping back, his expression unreadable once again. "Meet me downstairs tomorrow afternoon," he said abruptly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm taking you out of the house."

And with that, he turned on his heel and left me standing there, my heart pounding as I watched him go.