Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sipping wine in the living room of my previous home at Oakengrove one mid-November evening, I watched with an inner smile as my sisters squabbled. We made an effort to get together for a girls’ night at least one weekend a month. Sometimes we spent it either here, my place, or Harri’s house. Other times we hit the movies, a bar, or a restaurant. Always they’d end up bickering over something.

Curled up in the corner of the sofa, Alicia swiped out her arm. “No way. I’m not doing it.”

Harri pouted from the other end of the long couch. “Oh, come on, live a little.”

Alicia’s lips flattened. “See, this is why I don’t like playing truth or dare with you when you’re shitfaced—you always come up with the most immature dares.”

“I’m not shitfaced. You are.”

“Nu-uh. I’m just a little tipsy.”

There was nothing at all delicate about the snort that popped out of me. “You passed the tipsy line. We all did.” Hence why my head felt all light and warm and fuzzy.

Alicia let out a prim sniff. “Well, I’m not doing the dare—and that’s final.”

I tucked my legs under me on the plush armchair. “Then, as I see it, there’s only one solution to your problem. If you don’t want to go through with the dare, you’ll just have to answer Harri’s question and fess up to why you left Dario.”

Alicia glowered. “I don’t wanna.”

Our baby sister rolled her eyes. “You’re going to have to tell us at some point. Why not do it now?”

“I don’t wanna,” Alicia repeated.

Harri twisted her mouth, briefly averting her gaze. “Okay, I wasn’t sure whether to tell you this or not, but”—she took a long breath—“hetextedmeyesterday.”

Alicia’s spine snapped straight. “What?”

I winced at the shrill note to her tone. Harri had called me last night to tell me about the text, unsure what to do. We’d both agreed it was best that our sister be informed of it, just as we’d agreed we would do what it took to ensure that Alicia didn’t give him the reaction he wanted—even if it meant us both sitting on her.

“I’m guessing he got my cell number from my business website,” Harri added. “It was only a short text. He insisted I tell you to contact him; that he had things to say you needed to hear.”

“That son of a bitch.” Her face hard, Alicia set her glass down on the table with a trembling hand.

“I didn’t reply to it, I—”

“Why didn’t you call me after he messaged you?” Alicia demanded, her eyes glittering with an anger I knew wasn’t directed at our sister but at Dario.

“I wanted to tell you in person so I could stop you from doing anything dumb like contacting him. Don’t you see? He knew you’d be mad he texted me; he’s trying to goad you into finally acknowledging his existence.”

“Of course I see he’s trying to manipulate me! But you still should have told me right away.”

Harri inched up her chin. “You wouldn’t have told me right away. You’d have done exactly as I did.”

“So?”

Snickering, I cut in, “So don’t be a hypocrite. Get off Harri’s case—she made the best call and you know it. No, don’t object unless you can honestly say you’d have reacted differently in her shoes.”

Alicia clamped her mouth shut and crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not Harri you’re really mad at anyway. It’s Dario.” Cocking my head, I gave her a soft smile. “Why don’t you want to spill why you left him?”

Alicia looked down at her lap. “It’s not my idea of fun.”

“Why not?” I gently pushed.

“Because I’m furious at myself.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “Maybe even a little ashamed.”

I felt my brows snap together. “Ashamed? Why?”

“Yeah, what possible reason could you have to feel that way?” asked Harri, frowning.

Alicia let out an annoyed sigh. “I’m not a person who brooks bullshit. I don’t allow people to get away with the kind of stuff he pulled. I should have walked away long ago. Don’t get me wrong, if he’d been violent or cheated on me, I would have left him. But the things he did were so petty and minor and dumb they were easy to write off. I got into a pattern of letting it all fly over my head—even the way he tried making me distance myself from my own family.”

“It’s not like you let him,” Harri soothed.

“But I tolerated it.” Alicia looked at me, her eyes glinting with self-condemnation. “Your hubby wasn’t exactly instantly welcomed into our family, and Dad has been a total asshole toward him at times. But at no point has Dax ever tried to drive a wedge between you and us.”

“Dax isn’t a guy who requires approval, though,” I pointed out. “Dario’s different.”

Alicia grunted. “He got all upset and sulky because none of our family likes him. And even though you all tried getting to know him better to see if you could change that, he didn’t make that same effort. He just expected your approval. And when he wasn’t instantly adored, he decided none of you were worth his time.”

I leaned forward, careful not to spill my wine. “He tried poisoning your mind against us?”

“No, it was more a case of him playing the victim. Whenever I told him I was going to Redwater, he’d say dramatic crap like, ‘How can you want to be around people who hate me?’ or ‘If you loved me, you’d be on my side.’ I’d explain there were no sides, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Harri’s nose wrinkled. “Do you think he actually believed any of that, or were they just attempts at emotional blackmail?”

“The latter for sure,” Alicia replied, unfolding her arms and letting them slump to her lap. “But they didn’t work on me, so then he’d try other things. He’d create a problem either the day before my flight to Redwater, or a few days before. He’d declare he was ill, or pretend he was in pain and needed to go to the hospital. He even faked a heart attack once.”

“Jesus,” I breathed.

Sighing again, she rubbed at her forehead. “He wasn’t like that for the first year; he was so different in so many ways. Bit by bit, his asshole ways started to leak through. But it was petty rather than cruel, you know? You can roll your eyes at ‘petty’ and get on with your day, because it’s mostly just annoying.”

I nodded. “You can get used to it, too. So used to it that it even feels normal.”

“Yeah,” agreed Alicia. “To be honest, though, if I wasn’t so focused on building a following for the yoga channel, I probably would have walked away a lot sooner.”

Harri tilted her head. “What made you finally pack your bags?”

Alicia pulled her legs out from under her. “Do you guys remember I got contacted by that Hollywood agent who wanted me to be a body-double in a particular movie for an actress she represents?”

The memory made my lips kick up. “How can I forget?” I’d been super delighted for Alicia when she’d told me.

“He didn’t like it. Didn’t like that such attention came my way.” Alicia scratched her shoulder. “He considers himself the main star of the yoga channel. When people would recognize us and come over for photos, he lapped that shit up. He was truly in his element.”

“And he couldn’t stand the idea that you’d do something big without him,” Harri surmised.

“Basically, yes.” Alicia dropped her hands to her lap again. “Dario would talk as if she’d asked me to star in goddamn porn. She didn’t even want me to be naked, for Christ’s sake—all I had to do was remove my pants and tee, as if I was in the process of getting undressed. The director just wanted close-up shots of my stomach and legs.”

“I’m not surprised,” I told her. “You’re not only seriously toned, your skin is amazing.”

Harri nodded hard. “I can’t tell you how much I envy you that.”

Alicia’s amused snort was weak. “He was pissed that I agreed to do the scene. He called me insensitive for not caring that he didn’t want other men ogling his woman.”

“But … you flash your stomach and legs when doing yoga videos,” said Harri, voicing my own thought.

Alicia pointed at her. “Exactly. And I can tell you right now that if an agent had made the same offer to him, he’d have snapped it up. Anyway, I ignored his whining and went ahead with the filming—it was done and dusted within a day. When I got back to the condo, it was to find him positively smashed … as were a lot of my belongings, because he’d trashed the bedroom.”

I felt my lips part, anger crackling in my gut. “He’s such a freaking shit stain.”

“I know, right?” Alicia shook her head, her mouth tight. “We had a huge row. He called me everything from a stuck-up bitch to a traitorous whore. Even threw a plant at me. That was it. I was done.”

Harri spat a curse. “Did he try to stop you from leaving?”

“Nope.” Alicia gave a humorless smile. “He laughed. Said I’d be back when I missed the fame, because I was no one without him.”

Harri’s nostrils flared. “What a narcissistic motherfucker.”

My thoughts exactly. “You made him feel outshined, Alicia, and he just couldn’t hack it. He should have been proud of you. Pleased for you. Instead, he felt threatened, and he made you pay for that.” The dick. “Why does he keep calling you?”

“According to the voicemails he left, he thinks we should ‘try again.’ Claims he regrets that we ‘gave up on us.’”

Harri’s face scrunched up. “Seriously? Why would he think you’d go back to him? And why would he want you to?”

“He’s not interested in me, he’s interested in protecting his channel,” Alicia explained. “Our audience were couples, not single people.”

“So those viewers are now subscribing to channels that feature other couples practicing yoga,” I realized.

“Yup. He tried fixing the problem by including his ‘new girlfriend’ on his videos.” Alicia huffed. “That backfired. Numerous people commented on what an ass he is for moving on so fast.”

“It does make him an ass,” Harri asserted, to which I gave a curt nod.

“He claimed in his voicemails that she’s really just a friend. One I mysteriously never met in all the time we were together.” Alicia rolled her eyes. “Like I’d buy that.”

“He must hate that your own channel is doing so well,” I wagered with a smug glee.

“He swears he’s proud of me, but I don’t believe that. I don’t believe a single word he says. But he doesn’t seem to think I’m well-aware of his real motivation for calling me, so he just keeps doing it.”

Harri leaned toward her. “What can I do?”

“Nothing except ignore him,” replied Alicia. “It’s honestly the best way to deal with this. Any sort of interaction would only encourage him.”

She was right, but it would be so much more satisfying to make him pay somehow. I bit my lip. “If you told Dad—”

“He’d overreact,” Alicia finished. “That’s what he does. You know his style. I don’t want Dario to have his career ruined or his dark secrets exposed to the world. He’s not evil, he’s just a trivial prick at times.” She planted her palm over her forehead. “I want to slap myself for putting up with his crap for so long.”

I gave her a hard look. “You have no reason to feel any shame. There’s a difference between letting someone walk all over you, and letting small stuff fly over your head while trying to find a balance in a relationship. You didn’t allow him to isolate you from your family. You didn’t tolerate the emotional blackmail. You didn’t let him control your decisions. You asked him to stop his behavior, and you gave him chances to do that. When he took it too far, you left.”

Alicia rubbed at her nape. “I kept thinking he’d go back to the way he’d been during the first year we were together. That we were just going through a ‘bad patch.’ But that patch just stretched on and on, until I realized things weren’t going to get better.”

“There’s no reason to be mad at yourself for not wanting to give up on him or the relationship until you felt positive there was nothing left of it,” Harri told her.

I dipped my chin, in full agreement. “You’re being ridiculously hard on yourself. If it was me or Harri, you’d say the exact same thing.”

Alicia only looked down at her hands and began fiddling with her fingers.

Harri growled. “I’m totally gonna set Dario on fire if I see him again.”

Alicia barked a surprised laugh. “He’s not worth the jail time.”

“But you are.” Harri tossed back the last of her wine. “He hurt you. He should suffer for all eternity.”

“He will, because he’ll mess up his life in no time at all,” said Alicia.

“But I want a hand in it.”

Hearing my phone beep, I carefully bent down and fished it out of the purse I’d set on the floor, thankful I managed not to spill my wine. I looked down at the screen. Dax. My pulse did a crazy little skip.

He’d typed: You need to do something about this cat.

Checking out the photo he’d attached of a dead bird lying on the floor near his patio chair, I couldn’t help but wince. I replied: She’s just letting you know she loves you. It’s a gift.

Three dots danced on the screen for a few seconds. It’s a dead animal.

A gift, I repeated.

Yeah, if you’re a psychopath.

My lips twitching, I placed my phone on the armrest. This had become a thing over the past ten days or so. He occasionally texted me about this or that. With anyone else, it wouldn’t mean anything. But Dax wasn’t much of a texter, and he generally didn’t reach out to people—especially not about casual matters.

He also wasn’t a person who sought company. Yet, he’d taken to watching TV with me sometimes—especially true-crime stuff. He also invited me to join him in the pool on occasion, or to accompany him when he paid short visits to his siblings or parents.

In other words, he’d been doing some out-of-character things lately.

Obviously, I was pleased that the moat between us seemed to have narrowed. What didn’t please me were my responses. My pulse jumped whenever I received a text from him. My stomach went all fluttery when he joined me on the sofa to watch TV. My chest went tight whenever he invited me to swim with him or check in on his family.

People weren’t supposed to have such reactions to an attempt by a friend to reach out to or spend time with them, were they? They should maybe smile or feel light or even get excited. More specifically, they should feel touched in a platonic way. That wasn’t quite the case with me. And I’d come to realize two things.

One, I was beginning to care for Dax as far more than simply a friend.

Two, I could potentially fall for this man.

I’d known I might grow to care about him one day in the future. That could happen to two people who spent years of their life in the same house, raising children and building good memories. But there were levels of “caring,” weren’t there?

There was the kind of love you felt for a friend, relative, or someone you held in high regard—unromantic, warm, jovial, and long-lasting. It was all intertwined with fondness and familiarity.

Then there was a whole different kind of love. One you usually felt for your significant other. It ran deeper and could feel crucial to a person’s existence. It was passionate, profound, often selfless, and could easily become obsessive.

I hadn’t anticipated that I might experience the latter with Dax. As a teenager, I’d fallen for people easily. Not Dax, though. With him, I hadn’t felt in danger of toppling into the love pit. As such, I hadn’t expected it to happen now either.

But now that I thought about it, I realized that back then—knowing what we had could only be temporary—I’d purposely kept a distance from him in an act of self-preservation. This time round, I hadn’t. And it scared me that I could end up in a situation where I loved someone who didn’t return that love.

Being bound to a man who only “valued” me, a man to whom I’d always be second choice, would suck the most mega balls in history. But I could be worrying for nothing, couldn’t I? There was a possibility that I wouldn’t grow to feel that deeply for him. Especially when I generally never fell for emotionally unavailable men—Dax was the epitome of that.

“Major Addie, this is Ground Control.”

I snapped to attention at Alicia’s words and blinked twice. It was only then I realized she was standing right in front of me. “Sorry, what?”

She gestured at the bottle of wine she held. “Want a top up?”

I lifted my glass. “Oh, absolutely.”

Our conversations thereafter were lighter and playful. We went through at least another bottle of wine before we finally decided to call it a night. As promised, I texted Dax to let him know I was ready to go home—he’d insisted I not walk back to the villa.

He arrived mere minutes later, gracefully stalking into the room looking more appealing than anyone had a right to.

Slipping on my shoes, I looked up at the personification of raw sex appeal, hoping I wasn’t wearing a dreamy expression—my hormones certainly were. “You really didn’t have to come all this way.”

“It’s a five-minute drive, if that,” he reminded me. “Do you think you can stand without help?”

“Of course.” Except … my effort to push out of the chair didn’t work too well.

With a sigh, he snagged my hand and helped me rise to my feet. “Let’s go.”

After I’d exchanged goodbyes, hugs, and cheek-kisses with my sisters, I let him guide me to the car with a hand cupping my elbow to keep me steady. Inside the vehicle, I clicked on my belt, plopped my purse on my lap, and closed my eyes. Damn, my head was swimming.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, he said, “Don’t pass out.”

“But it could be fun.”

“I can’t fuck you if you’re unconscious, and I want to know what drunk sex with you is like.”

Even as my body fired up, I opened one eye to shoot him a cautioning glance. “I’m not gonna let you do freaky stuff to me, no matter how interesting it might sound. Come near me with, like, a unicorn dildo or an anal hook probe and we’re gonna have problems.” I didn’t judge those who used them—in fact, I felt such people should be praised for having the guts to go there—but, no, those kind of toys weren’t for me. I wasn’t quite that adventurous.

His brow creasing, he switched on the engine. “And how do you know such things are available?”

“I read, don’t I?”

“Maybe I should be asking more questions about what you’re reading.” He pulled out onto the road. “So, you had a good night, I take it.”

I smiled. “The best. I might have missed you. A teensy bit. Maybe. Or not.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“Did you get rid of the bird?”

“Yes. Though getting rid of the cat might be better.”

I scowled, pointing at him. “Not happening, Mercier. No way, no how. Me and Gypsy are a package deal. If she goes, I go. Even though leaving you would break my pussy’s heart and send my hormones into a state of full-on depression, it’d have to play out that way.”

Another twitch of his lips. “We can’t have that, can we?”

“No, so she stays. Deal?”

A few fine lines creased his forehead. “I didn’t realize we were negotiating anything.”

“I’m saying I’ll stay so long as Gypsy can.” Obviously. “Keep up.”

He shot me a sideways glance. “You’re not going anywhere, psycho cat or no psycho cat.”

“Excuse me, she’s not a psycho.”

“She killed a baby bird.”

I gasped, putting a hand to my chest. “It was a baby?”

“Yes. Somewhere out there its mother is probably chirping and shrieking and calling out for its—”

“Stop, stop,” I pled with a groan.

He didn’t bother stifling a smile.

“You’re an ass.”

“But I don’t snatch chicks out of their nests and kill them, so there’s that.” Pretty soon, he pulled into our driveway. Switching off the engine, he slid me a brief look and snapped off his seatbelt. “Wait there.” He then exited the vehicle.

Ordinarily, I would have had my door open by the time he reached it, but my seatbelt was being stubborn tonight. I peered up at him. “I don’t think your car wants me to leave.”

He reached in with a sigh, unclipped my belt, and then helped me hop out. He frowned down at my feet. “Why did you take off your shoes?”

I shrugged. “Felt like it.”

Another sigh.

Clutching my purse to my chest with one hand, I plucked my shoes out of the car with the other. “You sigh at me, like, a lot.”

“You regularly give me reasons to.” He took my shoes from me. “Come on.” He shut the door, wound an arm tight around my waist, and lifted me a few inches off the ground.

Surprised, I looped one arm around his neck, my free arm hugging my purse. He walked to the front door, my weight not seeming to affect him in any way. “Whoa, strong like bull, huh?”

He set me down. “You barely weigh anything.”

Uh, so not true.

Still holding my shoes with one hand, he unlocked the door and then shoved it wide open. Once more, he heaved me off the ground effortlessly.

As he entered the villa, I smiled. “Aw, you’re finally carrying me over the threshold. It’s a little late for that, really, but better late than never.”

Casting me a distinctly unimpressed look, he carefully lowered me again and then closed the door behind us. “Do you think you can manage to walk up the stairs without falling flat on your face?”

“Absolutely.” I hooked my purse over my shoulder and held up my hands. “I got this. Watch.” I did in fact manage it, though there was some staggering and swaying, so I was thankful for the steadying palm he kept plastered to my lower back.

That same palm guided me into our bedroom. It also took part in undressing me. And stroking me. And finger-fucking me. And gripping my ass tight while he railed me with his cock, pretty much fucking me into the mattress.

Afterwards, we lay on our backs on the bed, struggling to catch our breath.

My eyes closed, I said, “Okay, so I did miss you.”

I felt him go still, but the tension swiftly leached out of his muscles. “Good.” The word was spoken so low that, honestly, I wasn’t sure it was spoken at all.

I opened my eyes, about to ask him if he’d just said something, but his mouth then latched onto mine as he kissed me slow and deep … and I completely forgot what I was going to say.