She’s pressed against a bunch of old moving boxes we had sent out here earlier in the year. I don't miss the way her dark silhouette straightens when we come into view, and for a minute, I freeze. This woman has me tied up in all kinds of knots, and it’s like my brain short circuits around her. Shiloh’s arms are wrapped around her middle, like a deer caught in headlights, each echo of our footsteps setting her on edge and making her all jumpy and rigid. She looks like she’s ready to bolt, but our girl won’t make it very far.
“There you are, Little Doll,” Zane says, circling her left side, but her shadow doesn't cower in the slightest. She's like a cornered wildcat right now, and if we aren't careful, she'll scratch our fucking eyes out. The thought of her digging her nails into my skin until she draws blood, marking me in ways that only she could, has my dick instantly hardening against my zipper.
“I'm tired of your games. Haven't you assholes toyed with me enough?” she bites out, and I’d be an idiot if I didn’t notice the anger in her tone. Fuck if my mouth isn’t watering at the image of her taking her anger out on me. She can call me whatever the hell she wants, just as long as her wicked tongue is wrapped around the head of my cock afterward.
“Baby, we are only just getting started,” Phoenix answers, walking through the space between Zane and me, and only stopping when he’s an arm's length away from her. If looks could kill, we’d all be wrapped in fucking plastic because I can tell she’s furious even though her face is cloaked in shadows.
“Why?” she seethes, and my chest tightens at the hint of betrayal in her voice. The warm air surrounding us morphs into something much heavier, and my heart flies straight to my fucking throat because we were idiots to think that Shiloh was the kind of woman to let the shit we’ve put her through slide, and I know she’s not going to let us off the hook easy.
Phoenix has had her name tattooed across his heart for the past eight years, way before we ever left Blue River, and if I’m being honest, I didn’t think she’d notice. There’s hardly any bare skin left on our bodies, so her looking that closely was a surprise.
“Why what?” Phoenix asks, and I can tell that he needs to hear her say it. He needs her to admit that there’s something between us, and that there always has been. He needs to know that the feelings we’ve had for her since we were younger weren’t all in our minds. That every second we’ve spent wanting her wasn’t for nothing.
Hell, I’ll want her till the day I die, even if she tries to walk away for good.
“Why did you, why did Jovi keep this from me? What was I to you? One of your fucking groupies?”Zane and I move forward, standing beside my brother, though Shiloh’s shadowed gaze doesn’t shift from Phoenix.
“You were never a groupie to us, Shiloh. You were our fucking reason. You’re in our music, every chord, every beat, and we’ve spent our whole goddamn lives trying to be worthy of you.” For a moment, the chaos surrounding the workshop disappears, and the only thing hanging in the space between us is the weight of my brother’s admission.
This is it.
This is the part where she tells us we’re all unhinged and storms out of here. I mean, she can try. I have zero intention of letting that happen. The universe would have to personally intervene to keep me from running after her, because there’s no fucking way I’m letting her go.
When she says nothing, my heart almost comes to a complete stop, but then Zane steps forward, brushing an arm across Phoenix’s shoulder as he moves, reminding him that everything will be okay. Zane is the calm in our brotherly sandwich, and without him, who the hell knows where we’d be. Jail is a strong contender.
He stops just short of Shiloh, gazing down at her all predator-like, and I can feel the connection between them ripple as she leans back, gazing up at his mask with wide, angry eyes. It's a good thing that the radiator works, because it has melted some of the frost off thewindows, allowing the cabin’s porch light to shine through.
Zane lowers his head, his voice dipping into that lethal register that always has me eating out of the palm of his hand, and judging by the look on Shiloh’s beautiful face, she doesn’t know whether to get on her knees or run for the hills. He's reading her, taunting her, coaxing that little demon that we all know is buried deep within her, out to play.
“I’m going to count to ten, Little Doll,” he murmurs, every rasped word borderline threatening, “and you’re going to run as fast as you can because, baby, if we catch you, we’re going to fuck you, and once you take all three of our cocks…” He pauses, savoring the tension building back up between them, and Phoenix and I don’t dare say a word. “You're never gonna want to let us go.” The air between us hangs heavy in the silence, humming with heat. Phoenix stalks across the workshop, Shiloh’s hungry eyes never once breaking away from him as he kills the radiator.
“Ten, nine, eight...” She doesn't even flinch as Zane begins his countdown, and a mix of uncertainty and unease creeps across her face.
“You’d better run,Little Doll,” Phoenix says as he swings open the door.Such a gentleman.Shiloh’s eyes bounce between each of us, wide with panic as she contemplates whether or not she’s in this with us. She can lie to herself all fucking night if she wants, but she can’t lie to us. She wants this. She’s going to love everyfucking second of us filling her, and finally taking what has always been ours.
“Three, two….”Before he finishes, she pushes herself off the wall and bursts out of the workshop like her perfectly round ass is on fire.
“One,” he says, and I can hear the unmistakable triumph beneath his words as he takes off after her, with Phoenix and me close behind, eager to chase down our good girl.
CHAPTER 10
SHILOH
MERRY CRISIS
Fear rattlesthrough my every aching muscle as I run up the porch stairs two at a time. I thank my lucky stars that I haven’t slipped on ice and slowed myself down, because I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if they caught me. My heart thunders like a fucking drum in my chest, echoing the panic that’s buzzing in my veins, as I swing the front door open, my numb limbs barely keeping up.
There is no way that I am running further into the snowstorm. The buildings surrounding this cabin are taking the full brunt of the wind, but beyond them? That’s no man’s land. They’re just going to have to slum it in the workshop. Maybe then they’ll learn not to piss me off.
I slump against the door for a beat, trying to steadymy ragged breathing, and no, it’s not because they’re chasing me. It’s their words. Their confession is still crawling over my frozen skin, messing with me in ways I’m definitely not prepared for. My brain is doing an interpretive dance or some shit because I can’t focus on a damn thing, so I let my eyes wander, taking inStone Cold’scabin instead.
The inside is actually really fucking beautiful. Polished timber beams stretch high across the ceiling, honeyed and warm, catching the soft glow of twinkling Christmas lights strung along the rafters. The walls are lined with dark wood, smooth and gleaming, and the stone fireplace is quite literally the prettiest feature I’ve seen anywhere.
A Christmas tree stands nearby, tall and decorated way better than anything I could ever do. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jovi was the one who did it for them. Or the entire place, now that I think about it. After all, she is an interior decorator. I shake away all thoughts of my best friend, because as much as I know that I have to get a grip, I just need a minute to get over her keeping something this big from me.
I remove my jacket and hang it over the side of the plush lounge chair that's swallowing half of the large open living room. I’m topless, still wearing nothing but my skirt and ratty ass fishnets, compliments of the maskedliars,but with them locked out there, there’s no need for me to worry about being half naked. I dig my phone out of my coat pocket, then make my way to theChristmas tree, currently doubling as a candy cane dispensary. I pluck a few from the branches, because why the fuck not? By the time I collapse onto the couch, I’m already unwrapping one. It’s been a minute since I’ve had one of these. The moment the first taste hits my tongue, it’s as if nostalgia punches me right in the face.
Memories of Christmases spent with the Stone family flicker across my mind. There was always so much love in their home, the kind I never really saw in my own. I used to watch how they were, like an outsider peering through a window, pretending like I wasn’t imagining what it would be like if their family were mine. Their house always felt so much warmer, and glancing around this cabin, I’m struck by how easily they turn any space into a home. As if their mere presence is enough to change the whole, cold atmosphere.
