“We did our job then.” He smiles haughtily.
A little too well.
Reese and Dev surround me with their bodies, each taking liberties with their hands. Reese’s on my hip, Dev’s on my naked thigh.
Just their simple touch has me reeling.
“What did you want to talk about?” I ask, trying to get a grip. I don’t want to come off as some needy woman who’s already hooked on them.
Which, obviously, I am.
Dev skims his thumbs across my burning skin, making it difficult to concentrate. “You want to tell me what that Kawasaki is doing parked in your garage?”
“Huh?” Not the question I was expecting, at all. Like never even entered my mind.
I peer at Reese. “Has someone been sharing secrets that aren’t his to tell?”
Reese just shrugs. “He was going to find out eventually.”
I’m uprooted with a potent shot of suppressed emotion. My past is my cross to bear, and I choose when, and whom, to share it with.
“Kayla, you have to let us in. This will never work if you keep us in the dark.”
“This?”
“Yes, this.” Dev motions to the three of us. “You didn’t think last night was a one-time deal, did you?”
I hoped it wasn’t.
“You belong to us now,” Reese confirms. “Every last inch of you.” He fucks me with his eyes, and I have a flashback of last night. My cheeks instantly heat. I’ve belonged to them longer than they know.
“Tell us so we know. So we can understand,” Dev implores, gripping my thigh tightly. I know it’s eating him alive. From the moment we met, I’ve been prejudiced against him because he rides a motorcycle, and here he is now peeling away the layers of all my dirty secrets. Of my hypocrisy.
I breathe shallowly as I look between them, the guilt rising like the ghoul it is.
I haven’t talked about that night in nearly ten years. I don’t even know where to begin.
“Kayla, you can tell us. You can trust us,” Dev consoles me.
I want to trust them. Even more than that, I want to fall apart in their arms and have them tell me everything is okay. That it wasn’t my fault, even though it was.
The tears well before I can stop them, my vision blurring. Dev and Reese immediately move closer as I find the strength to let them in.
“I was sort of wild when I was younger.” I laugh through my tears. “In high school, I got wrapped up with a bad crowd. My aunt could barely control me. I was a teenager rebelling. Drinking, drugs, sex, boys, and bikes. That was my life for a while.” I turn red. I’m not proud, but it’s a fact. I wipe my wet cheeks and continue talking. If I stop, I’ll never find the courage to finish. “She was my best friend. My sister,” I add obscurely.
“Who was?” Reese asks.
“Becca.” I sniff. “I’d known her my whole life. We were inseparable since kindergarten. We did everything together. Caused so much trouble.” I smile at the memories.
“And what happened?” Dev hangs on my every word.
“She died.” I can’t hold back the sob. “And it was my fault.”
“Kayla.” I’m not sure which of them utters my name, but they both try to calm me. “Take a deep breath and just go slowly,” Dev advises. I try to do as he says, but the self-blame is rampant. It takes a few minutes for the angst to subside and, once it does, I nod when I’m ready to continue.
“We were out one night. Same as always, a bunch of us just hanging around. Becca had been pestering me all night to leave. She wanted to go home. She wasn’t feeling good or something, but I wanted to stay out. So I kept brushing her off, until she got fed up and found another ride home.” I can still see her climbing onto the back of the dark blue Honda as if she were standing right in front of me. She had just cut off all her long, blonde hair, so it fell just above her shoulders. The haircut made her look older. Less innocent. But she was innocent. She never drank, never smoked, never did drugs, and never went past second base. She was confident in who she was while I was still finding myself. And maybe I resented her a little for it, but not enough to wish her harm. Bottom line, she was my best friend and I loved her.
“I knew the guy was fucked up. High on God knows what. But I let her get on the bike anyway, knowing full well I shouldn’t. Knowing I should’ve been the one driving her home. He didn’t even give her his helmet. He just took off, teetering down the dirt road.” I fiddle with my hands manically. “I didn’t see the crash, but I heard it.” My voice shrinks. “Heard the tires screech and the metal crunch.”
