Page 91 of Last Man Standing

His pealing laughter bounces around the yard, so faces poke through doorways.

Koda folds his back and peeks across at Scarlett, his lips curved with an arrogant smirk. “Wanted to see you again. You’re puuuurty.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Scarlett slaps my arm. “Put him down and stop making a whole friggin’ scene. And you.” She stares straight into my baby brother’s eyes and scowls that way she does to me. “Don’t be that guy. Don’t be the insufferable flirt. Sebastion thinks he’s suave too. Mostly he just looks silly.”

“Worked for me in the end.” I pull my brother in and hold him with an arm around his belly, his head dangling near my knees and his legs folded forward to provide me with the perfect kid-butt to smack. “She gets cranky sometimes, Kod. But she secretly likes it when we call her pretty.”

“Cause it’s true.” He twists in my arm and studies her red face. “You gonna play Nintendo too, Scarlett? We got the Switch hooked up to the wall projector, so we can play Mario racing if you want.”

“Oh, well…” Her nails go back to her mouth. “I don’t⁠—”

“We have snowboarding games too. And Crash. We have all sorts of games to choose from, and even though the blue controller is my very favorite and Bas and Mav aren’t allowed to use it, I would let you.” He smiles up at her and, I swear to God, flutters his lashes. “I wouldn’t even throw green turtle shells at you if we race. Promise.”

I glance across and meet her charmed eyes. “You would be a heartless monster to say no to that kinda offer.”

She slaps my arm again. “Shut up.” But then she curls into my side and does that thing Serena tried, wrapping her arms around mine and walking hip to hip through the rec room doorway.

I don’t hate it. Not one fuckin’ bit.

30

SCARLETT

BOILED SPAGHETTI

Aday after my run in with Arabella, after a couple of hours spent curled into a beanbag while I raced for my life and Koda’s ‘I won’t throw turtle shells at you’ flattery went out the window in the name of victory, I lie across Sebastion’s bed much like I did twenty-four hours ago, naked and sated, and a little too relaxed to consider interacting with the real world literally ever again.

My body aches in all the most delicious ways, my muscles protest the mere act of breathing, and my brain does this super annoying thing where it screams, time and time again, that becoming intimate with Sebastion Jameson is a really, really bad idea.

To be with a man, and to allow him the knowledge of what makes me tick, what makes me weak, and the things that build me up again… those are the trade secrets that give away my power and pass it to someone else.

Someone much larger and scarier than I am.

The very reason I’m here with him, on this property I really don’t want to be on, with people I don’t particularly enjoy, except perhaps three or four of them, is because I allowed Roy Daniels to control me in ways I should know never to accept again.

Yet here I am, willfully giving myself to someone far more dangerous, in a place he brought me to without my full consent.

I know this is not the same, but the beats are here. The similarities. The panicked thrum of my heart every time I have more than a few minutes alone to think through my situation.

While the shower runs and Sebastion washes off a long morning training with his men, and then an even longer hour bathing in… me, I twist lazily to the side and stare at my vibrating phone.

A groan works along my throat, but I stretch my arm and slap my palm over the buzzing device. Dragging it back and spying my brother’s name on the screen, I smile and answer, knowing I couldn’t if this were a video call.

Thank God it’s not.

“Hey, Linc.” I press the phone to my ear and dig my free hand under the back of my head to act as a cushion. “Solve all my troubles yet?”

He chuckles, low and throaty and just tense enough to tell me everything I need to know. “Not yet. But we’re working on it.” He grunts, so in my mind, I imagine him lowering into a chair. “Everything okay with you, Little Girl? You sound…” He considers for a moment. Please don’t say thoroughly fucked. “I dunno. Better, I guess. A little less sad.”

“Eh. You know me. Making lemonade out of lemons.” I cough out a soft laugh and close my eyes. If I don’t look at the room surrounding me, I might forget precisely where I am. “Almost died yesterday.”

Just as I knew they would, my words stun a choked mix between a gasp and a growl from my brother’s throat. “What the fuck do you mean you nearly died? Explain.”

“Well…”

“Right now!”

How much am I allowed to tell him? Does Lincoln even realize Sebastion has brothers? If not, is he allowed to know?