Authors: Harper Sloan
“Tell me you love me, baby. I have to go.”
“I love you, baby.” I smile.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “And I you.”
“See you soon,” I whisper.
“Every time I close my eyes.”
I don’t move the phone away from my ear. Not when I hear the click or when Nate starts to ask his questions. I just smile to myself and let it sink in.
PREDICTABLY, THINGS GOT A LITTLE insane after that call. Nate demanded to know what was going on between Cohen and me. I was honest with him, and in the end, he didn’t have a problem with it more or less, just that I had kept from him.
Okay, that might be a stretch. He knew how I felt, of course, but he was shocked that Cohen had taken it that far without at least talking to him first. Then I had to explain to my irrational older brother that he isn’t my keeper.
Don’t ever tell a man who was raised by alpha males that he isn’t the keeper of his baby sister. It isn’t pretty and there is usually something that gets broken in the process. This time, it was my coffee table when I pushed the big ape over for telling me that I should be locked away on an island of Barbies and Big Wheels.
Yeah. I’m always going to be the baby sister.
That being said, justifiably, what he did have a problem with was the unexpected and unknown sender of the weekly flowers. I told him everything I knew about the delivery guy and how many had come, showing him the ones that were still around the house. Each of the vases held a big, black bow tied to the center of the glass vase. Black wouldn’t have been my first choice, but when I’d thought they were from Cohen, it hadn’t bothered me. Now, it makes me skin crawl.
And that was before Nate had found the first microscopic-looking wireless camera in the arrangement.
“You’re moving home,” he booms through the room. “That’s fucking it. No. You’re not staying here one more second, Danielle!” He starts pacing around my bedroom, his hands clenching in tight fists at his sides. Bringing out the full name is his way of showing me that he’s serious.
I don’t think so. No. I finally got out from under my father, and there is no damn way I’m going back. Especially now, it would only be a million times worse.
“I’m not leaving my home, Nate.”
“Don’t be irrational, Dani!” he screams in my face.
Lee, who was quiet until now, steps between us. “Be pissed, I get that, but don’t you dare talk to her like that.”
I give him a squeeze before things get too intense between him and Nate. Won’t be the first time, and it damn sure won’t be the last.
“Look,” I start and step around Lee so that I can make sure Nate knows I mean every word I’m about to say. “I’m not going to leave. First of all, if whoever is sending the flowers is watching me, they’ll see that and follow. I’m comfortable here. We’re safe here. Lee can stay for a while, right, Lee?” I turn and wait for him to nod. “And I’ll tell Daddy what’s going on. I won’t be put out of my own house because of some stupid flowers.”
“Flowers with goddamn cameras in them, Dani!” he yells.
“Tone, Nate,” Lee reminds him.
“Shut the fuck up, Lee.”
“Would you both shut the hell up?!” I scream.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Oh great. I look over at my mom and smile sweetly. She narrows her eyes, and I know she doesn’t buy it for a second.
“Do you want to tell me now or wait until your father gets in from unloading the car? He’s always freaked me out with that sixth sense he has when it comes to his children. Imagine my shock when I’m trying to enjoy a glass of wine and a nice game of Candy Crush when your dad comes rushing in the room and demands we leave
right this second
because he knew you needed something. Of course, he couldn’t tell me what it was you needed, so we had to stop off for just about everything he could buy at Walmart, the only damn store that’s open at eleven on a Saturday. So . . . before he gets in here and I have to hear him gloat about being right, why don’t you tell me what has your brother doing his best Axel Reid impression? Hey, Liam,” she finishes with a smile. “Don’t you look handsome tonight.”
Jesus Christ, it’s going to be a long night, and all I want to do is go to bed.
“Don’t worry. His bark will be a lot worse than his bite,” Lee whispers in my ear on a laugh. He’s quick to move away before my dad walks in the room though.
“Hey, Daddy,” I smile when he pushes into the room. “Shouldn’t you be in bed by now? You know, past your bedtime and all?”
“Don’t be a smartass with me. What’s going on?”
“What makes you think something is going on? Nate and Lee were just watching a movie with me. Normal boring night.”
“What makes me think something’s going on? Besides the fact that a father always knows when his little princess needs something? How about your brother over there?” he states and points to Nate.
Nate, who is standing farther away in the middle of the living room, pacing back and forth and muttering to himself. His fists are clenched and his face is flushed with anger.
“Oh . . . poor guy. I told him that ’N Sync wasn’t getting back together. He took it really,
really
hard.”
Lee lets out a boom of laughter. My mom snickers to herself and rubs her hand down my dad’s back.
“Dani,” Nate warns. “You tell them or I will.”
“I don’t think—” I start only to be interrupted by Nate when he drops a bomb in the middle of the room.
“Why don’t you fucking start with you and Cohen and then get to the flowers and cameras,
Danielle.
”
“The hell is he talking about?” Daddy rumbles.
“Uh, about that.”
“There better not be any of
that
to be
about,
” he fumes.
“What does that even mean?” I ask.
“Don’t you be smart with me. Start talking.”
I sigh and look at my mom for some help, only to get a small nod and smile. Lee isn’t much help either. He walks over to the couch, sits next to Nate, and waits—the popcorn we forgot about in their hands.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“Mouth!” Dad explodes.
I narrow my eyes and have to resist the urge to stomp my feet.
“Start. Talking.”
“Ugh! This is ridiculous. Well, this is definitely not how I saw this going. Thank you, Nathanial. You might as well sit down, Daddy.”
“I don’t want to sit down,” he argues.
“Now who is acting like they’re a child,” I tease.
His face softens for a second before he remembers why he’s upset.
“Okay. So it’s probably best if I just rip it off like a Band-Aid, right?” No one speaks. “So . . . Cohen and I talked before he left and we decided that, when he comes home, we’re going to see where we stand.”
Daddy looks at me, his eyes blinking a few times as my words float around in his mind. I can see him trying to figure out what I just said, and then I watch when it finally sinks in. His tan face turns beet red and his nostrils start to flare. His eyes go even harder before he explodes.
“THE FUCK YOU SAY?”
Oh boy.
“Axel, baby, calm down.”
“I won’t calm down.”
“She’s an adult. You
know
Cohen, and I know that he would never do anything to hurt her. Ever. So your normal excuses of them being up to no good aren’t going to work. Not with him. You’ve known that boy since he was three years old. If there is anyone you shouldn’t have to worry about, it would be Cohen Cage.”
“I also remember all that boy would talk about was his dick, too!”
“I think you’re twisting those memories slightly. Plus, it was his father’s dick.” Mom burst out laughing when Lee and Nate start choking on their popcorn.
Serves those little shits right for trying to enjoy this clusterfuck.
“Izzy,” my fathers warns.
“Good lord, Ax. You were never this over the top when we were their age.” She laughs and then walks over to where I’m standing. Her arms come around me and her mouth goes to my ear. “He’ll get over it, but don’t back down.”
I get a big squeeze before she walks over to Nate and slaps him over the head.
“Don’t laugh at your sister.”
“Where are the girls?” Daddy asks when no one makes a move to further the conversation.
“Maddi is spending time with her sister. She said she’s been missing her lately. The twins are out. And before you even think about it, yes, they know and they’re completely okay with it.”
“I don’t like this,” he grumbles.
“And you don’t have to. But it won’t change anything, Daddy. I think it’s time to let me live my own life and stop acting like I’m a little girl.”
“That’s not going to happen. I’ll work on it, but I won’t make any promises that I won’t be having words with him when he gets his ass home. Long words, Dani. Words that may or may not involve me showing him my gun collection. Now sit down and tell me the rest.”
“Actually . . . I think YOU might want to sit down for this part.”
TWO NIGHTS AGO, I HAD to vaguely tell my father that I would be dating when Cohen came home. I think that, if had it been any other person, he wouldn’t have accepted it as well as he did. Well, I say, “accepted it,” but I heard him when he stepped in the kitchen to “get a beer” and boom into his phone at who I can only imagine was Cohen’s dad that his son was “going to violate my daughter and that shit better not happen.”
That
conversation went a lot better than the flowers and cameras one went. To say that my father lost his shit would be a vast understatement. It took my mom offering him God knows what for him to finally leave. I try to tune them out when she starts whispering in his ear to get her way.
Not something I want to think about.
Nope.
Never.
So here I am, two days later, and I feel like I’m about to climb out of my skin.
Daddy has decided to appoint himself as my personal bodyguard. And if that isn’t enough, the lingering exhaustion I’ve been feeling for weeks has hit an all-time high. Or I guess it would be low. I’ve been falling asleep at work. In the shower. You name it. I was eating dinner, which was cooked by Maddi and delicious, the other night with the girls and fell asleep in my bowl! In. My. Bowl! Who does that?
I’m over it.
At least he agreed to let Chance accompany the girls and me to the Loaded Replay concert tonight in Atlanta. God, I would have killed him if he had shown up. He pulled whatever strings he has and our shit tickets have been swapped out with V.I.P., front-row tickets. Of course, his stipulation was that our group of five—me, Lyn, Lila, Maddi, and Stella—turn into a party of six. Chance was going or we weren’t.