“Okay…” I say, but just as Rhett looks down into my eyes and grabs hold of my chin, Shawn comes sauntering out the sliding glass doors into the covered workout area. He eyes the treadmill and then my sweaty hairline and seems only slightly intrigued. Rhett doesn’t make any move to remove himself from me and he doesn’t glance back.
“I need to know what this man looked like,” Shawn says.
I can tell that he’s still angry from the night before but he’s showing restraint. I don’t want him to. I want him to free that controlled side of himself and show me just how chaotic and wild he can be because I know it’s in there. I just don’t know if he knows how to access it or let his guard down enough to open up to whatever madness lies inside him.
“He had black hair, a shit-ton of tattoos all over his arms and neck…” I think back to the way he looked at me, remembering the chilling abyss of his gaze. “Black eyes.”
Rhett and Shawn exchange a look, and Shawn nods once as if I’ve told him everything he needs to know.
“Do you know who he is?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Damon. He was Penny’s partner in many things,” he reveals, and I feel the tension tighten in the air as if it might suffocate me. Partner? What does partner mean?
“I’d say the same. I guess we knew he wouldn’t give up on tracking you,” Rhett comments.
“The question is how did he find out that you were still alive?” Shawn ponders aloud, scratching his stubbled chin.
“Still alive?” I repeat, nearly furious. “Everyone thought I was dead? Did my mom and Emily think I was dead, too?”
Shawn shakes his head, adamant that this is untrue.
“No, I told them the truth, knowing that they were o n our side. Although now I wonder if they could have sold you out to…” he sighs. “Never mind, sweetheart, this isn’t something you should worry about. I’m going to find Damon and take him down. For good.”
The way he speaks reminds me that I’m missing so much and that I need an explanation. The mention of “for good” makes me think that he’s had run ins with him before. Rerouting myself from this thought, it soothes me to think that my mom and Emily might still care.
“The Young brothers are a more likely culprit,” Rhett says, holding onto me possessively. “Have you checked on them since we left? If they pull the right strings with the right people,” he gives him a pointed expression. “They could get out. Easy as pie.”
Shawn nearly snarls and walks away a few steps, staring out at the brilliant view.
“I never would have planted her files if I’d thought they’d make it out of there alive. You know if they thought she was in control they’d keep her alive, if she was nothing they’d have shot her in the head the moment they saw her.”
I’m stunned by their words and feel as if I’m a fly on the wall right now, watching an interaction I’ve yet to witness. I can hardly drink up the words quick enough, desperate and morbidly curious about the past, while hating it all the same.
“It’s done now,” I tell him, trying to ease his guilt, but he doesn’t look back at me. He continues to scowl at the blue sky.
“I think Damon and I will have a good long conversation about how exactly he found out about her,” Shawn mutters, and a chill rolls through me. “Allie. Come with me for a second.”
Slowly untangling myself from Rhett’s embrace, I kiss him fully on the lips, and out of the corner of my eye I see Shawn’s jaw twitch. Rhett’s mouth is smooth and his cropped beard prickles me.
“See you soon, little miss,” he whispers. “We’ll talk more later. We have the whole night to ourselves.” He adds the last part with a teasing glance at Shawn, who pretends to ignore it.
I incline my head and follow Shawn back through the house. He leads me through the spacious gathering areas and then down the hall to his room. I pad across the lush cream carpet of the bedroom, eying the neatly made four poster bed. Shawn doesn’t speak a word, he merely heads towards the bathroom and stands in front of the shower waiting for me. He lifts his chin and his metallic eyes glide down my body. This look sends both nerves and lust rushing through me.
If I don’t know anything from before, how can I know how I felt about them? Why would Shawn track me and bring me into their life again? Did Penny even want to come back? Did she even care about them? I assume she did, but I have no solid evidence of it. I have no solid evidence that Penny even liked them. What if we were enemies? What if this Damon, the one who’s supposed to be Penny’s partner, is on my side? How can I trust what Shawn says so easily? When he’d first fucked me, he asked me to trust him. Now, staring at his beautifully cold, fallen-angel face I find myself pulling back.
Shawn’s phone dings and he checks it, and then sets it aside.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“My mother,” he speaks stiffly, standing with a straight-spine posture to match. “She was wondering how our flight went.”
“Does she miss you?” I ask, thrown off guard by the prospect of his mom. Imagining him caring about checking in with his mother makes him seem softer; more human. I recall that Alexi said she lived in Florida, and I wonder when he’s last seen her.
“She misses my father,” he says, shrugging away the idea. “I have the money, so she tries to keep in contact.”
These words are stringently painful, and if said in any other conversation it might be passed off as dry humor. But I can tell that Shawn’s guard has risen ten more stories, and as he evades my gaze, I realize that he’s been used his entire life for his money.
“A mom should just check in to see how her son is doing,” I say. “Not because she wants something from you.”
He remains passive and takes in a deep breath.
“Not in the world I live in, sweetheart.”
The words hit me like a brick. They are so matter-of-fact, so cruelly definite.
“I don’t know what my life was like growing up, but what I do remember gives me the ability to know the difference between right and wrong. No one should be used like that,” I say, shifting my stance to something more relaxed.
Shawn points to the walk-in stone shower. It’s built of rough stone, a giant space with overhead showerheads that rain down on you. There are benches cut into the rock, places to sit and rest in the steam, more like a sauna than a shower.
“Get in,” he demands. “Strip.”
“I don’t feel like it,” I say, annoyed at his deflection.
“You’re getting in, Princess,” his tone is harsh, but I can tell that he’s also been caught off-guard by the unwelcome touch on his mother and dysfunctional family life. I don’t want to lose this moment. I wish he would open up to me because I feel like maybe I can ignore the chaos of Penny’s suppressed memories if I can focus on learning who these men truly are—not only on the surface, but deep beneath…down into the depths of their bitter souls.
“Make me,” I swallow, holding back the emotions that had assaulted me on the treadmill. I’m angry at everything; angry at him, angry at Penny, angry at life itself. At the entire structure of society and my entire damned existence.