“Micah…”
“Don’t think I can’t do it. I have connections everywhere.”
Shiloh sounded like he was choking back tears. “You promised not to hurt him.”
“And you promised to be obedient. I guess we both fucking lied. Get me the information I want and check in more often. If I have to chase you down, you won’t like what happens. I don’t trust you not to fuck this up any more than you already have.”
“Micah, ple?—”
“Clock’s ticking, Shiloh. Make good choices.”
The line went dead then. They all just sat in silence, processing the phone call. Was that what Shiloh dealt with every day? It must feel like dancing on the sharp end of a knife’s blade. This went far beyond physical abuse, which was bad enough. Micah was psychologically terrorizing him as well, using Malachi to turn Shiloh into his puppet.
The bedroom door crept open slowly, all eyes on Shiloh as he emerged. He walked quickly, head down as always, pocketing his phone before dropping down beside Levi. Ever was on his feet immediately, squirming his way between the non-existent space between Nico and Shiloh.
Shiloh immediately burst into tears when Ever wrapped his arms around him. “I’m so sorry,” he said to nobody in particular. “I don’t know why he’s like this. But I-I promise I won’t tell him anything about your babies. I promise. I promise. Please, don’t change your mind about me, about Malachi. Please, help us. Please?”
Ever shushed him, his lips on Shiloh’s hair. “Shh, it’s not your fault. They’re going to help you. We’re all going to help you, right?” Ever shot a hard look at Jericho. “Right?”
Levi had never seen Ever like this. He was like an angry little gremlin, perched beside Shiloh, holding him in a tight hug. Levi placed his hand on Shiloh’s thigh, just wanting him to know he was close by.
Jericho handed Shiloh a tissue box, then sat on the coffee table in front of him. “Hey, breathe. Nobody blames you for this. It’s clear your brother has some real issues. But I can’t let him go after my children.”
“Of course not,” Shiloh wailed, clutching the tissue box in his hands. “I would never help him do that.”
“I know. But I need you to understand what’s about to happen. Can you look at me?” Shiloh dragged his eyes upwards to meet Jericho’s. “We’re going to help you. We’re going to helpMalachi. But involving my kids…this goes beyond a nuisance. Your brother has to die. I need you to under?—”
“Do it,” Shiloh said fiercely. “Please. Please, kill him. Please. Just please, save Mal first.”
The doorbell rang, making everyone jump. Atticus ran a hand along Jericho’s shoulder. “I’ll get it. It’s the food.”
“Check the peephole first,” Jericho said. “Just in case.”
Atticus shook his head, a tinge of amusement in his voice. “What am I new here or something?”
“Don’t get sassy with me, Freckles,” Jericho teased. To Shiloh, he said, “It’s going to be okay.”
“But we are going to need to loop in my father and brothers,” Atticus said as he returned to the living room with five large pizza boxes stacked in front of him. “But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Let’s eat.”
Shiloh didn’t remember eating his pizza. He could barely remember a word of their conversation throughout the evening. Levi’s friends were all really nice to him, and nobody treated him like the traitor he was. But no matter how they treated him, deep down, Shiloh felt like a fraud, like everyone hated him and they were just tolerating him for Levi’s sake.
They watched a movie now. Arsen and Ever lay snuggled on the couch, Arsen playing big spoon, Ever’s sleepy eyes focused on the screen. Nico, Lake, Seven, and Cree were on the floor in a complicated mess of entangled limbs, like sleeping puppies. They were laughing and joking with each other but it was hard to hear what they were saying over the surround sound speakers.
Jericho and Atticus had retreated to their bedroom to strategize. Levi had whispered, “That’s their code for sex,” as soon as they’d left the room. How Jericho and Atticus could have sex with all of them scattered around the living room was beyond Shiloh. But what did he know about it, really? He would kill to be somewhere alone with Levi, letting him take his mindoff all his worries. But he didn’t say that. He’d already caused enough trouble. He wasn’t going to drag Levi away from his friends, too.
Instead, they sat in the large recliner, Shiloh nestled between Levi’s spread legs, back against his chest, his head resting on Levi’s shoulder. The others had teased Atticus mercilessly about allowing Jericho to get a recliner, something he’d apparently said for years was far too ugly to ever grace his home. Atticus seemed to take the teasing in stride.
Shiloh liked the large overstuffed chair. It allowed him to lie in Levi’s arms without having to see the concern on his face. With the others engrossed in the movie—an insanely loud action flick Shiloh had never heard of—he was free to just lie there and overthink every decision he’d ever made.
Or he would if Levi’s hands weren’t suddenly so…handsy.
Maybe Shiloh should have known Levi had ulterior motives when he grabbed the blanket and covered the two of them, but he’d been too lost in his own thoughts. Now, he was no longer able to ignore it—to ignore Levi and his very busy hands.
It started innocently enough—Levi just rubbing soothing circles over Shiloh’s belly, over his t-shirt. But once everyone was engrossed in the film, Levi began to explore, his palms roving up under Shiloh’s t-shirt, stroking his naked skin. He laid there, hyper aware of Levi’s palms on his belly, thumbs brushing lazily. It was distracting but…tolerable.
He tried to ignore it, the fingertips ghosting along his sides, up and down, up and down, their reach expanding with every pass until they dipped below his waistband with each downward motion and then up to his chest. Goosebumps erupted along Shiloh’s skin, and he sighed into the touch, melting against Levi, enjoying the attention.
But then, those clever fingers slid inward, palms squeezing his chest, fingers teasing over his nipples. Shiloh’s breathhitched, swallowing a broken moan as his cock filled out behind his zipper.
