My cheeks grow warm.
“And what if I’m right?” I blurt out before biting off another mouthful of toast.
Apollo tilts his head, and his hair slides back into his face. “Even if it’s not Gabriel, Gabriel knows who it is.” He shrugs, drags at his cigarette, and walks around the table to me. “And you’d probably go running your mouth if you think we’d hurt him, so…we’d have to make sure you didn’t do anything like that.”
I’m so shocked at what he’s insinuating. I don’t move when he brushes his fingertips down my jaw. “I wouldn’t do that,” I whisper.
“We’re not exactly trusting of strangers. Nothing personal, pretty thing.”
We.
All those years they spent together in that basement. I can’t even imagine the bond that created between them. I’m guessing it goes far beyond hatching a plan of revenge. They’re not just buddies—they’re brothers.
“Please, you have to believe me.” I widen my eyes as I turn to face him.
There’s uncertainty in his eyes. But there’s something else there too. I can’t be sure, but I’m hoping against all hope that he wants to believe me.
“It’s not me you have to convince,” he says, his lips curling into a smile as he takes another drag of his cigarette.
His fingers trail down my throat. He traces the outline of my collarbone, sending a flurry of shivers through me. Toying with the top button of my dress, his smile hitches up. “Lunchtime, a day like this?” He tilts back his head and looks up at the patch of sky. “Everyone’s gonna picnic in the field.” He stands and goes to kill his cigarette in the pot plant. “No one will miss you until tonight.” He walks over to the kitchen door, pausing with his hand flat on the steel.
“We’ll fetch you in an hour. Wear something pretty,” he says around a smirk.
“Wait!” I call out before he can disappear inside.
He steps back, waiting.
I scrounge up every ounce of courage to ask, “Do you guys have a private bathroom?”
Chapter Three
Trinity
If anyone ever wanted to conduct a study on the effects of blushing, I’d be the perfect candidate. In the past half an hour I don’t think I’ve stopped blushing even once.
I’m in a room in the east wing. It’s nothing like the one I have to share with Jasper. It’s three times the size, and it has its own en-suite bathroom where I’m currently standing buck naked and terrified that someone’s going to walk in on me.
Reuben, to be precise. Since it’s his room, he accompanied me up here. I think he’s in the small study-cum-dining area of his apartment, but his carpets are too thick for me to hear if he did move about.
Steam fills up the shower cubicle, turning the frosted glass white. I slip inside that heavenly cloud, and the water draws a deep sigh from me as it cascades down my body.
There was no way I was going to have lunch with Zac’s boys while I still had traces of sticky alcohol over my breasts and crazy person hair. So I brought my clothes up here and slipped into Reuben’s room while Cassius watched the hallway to make sure no one spotted me.
Apparently, I could get into a lot of trouble being on this floor. More so if I’m discovered inside someone’s room.
Lathering rosemary-scented shampoo into my hair I try and squeeze every last drop of indulgence from the most blissful moment I’ve had in the past month.
For a few minutes, there’s nothing but me, the warm water, and that delicious scent. It should smell like Reuben, but on me it smells different.
I’m glad it’s his bathroom I get to use. I’d have refused if it was Cass’s, and it would have felt really weird to use Apollo’s. Strangely, despite how big and scary he is, Reuben feels…safe.
It must be amazing having someone like that in your life. Someone who can knock the teeth out of anyone who dares look at you funny. I’d never be scared again. Not wrapped in his strong arms.
My hand slides down my hip, and I hesitate, biting down on my bottom lip for a second. I peek behind me, but I can’t see the bathroom door through the glass and steam.
Skimming lower, my fingers brush against my clit. A thrill flutters through me as my eyes slide closed. It should have been Reuben’s black eyes that appear, but instead all I can see is Zachary. His solemn expression, that almost permanent crease between his brows.
I took it for severity, but now I know it’s some kind of anger. Anger hardened into a diamond over time. But diamonds aren’t pretty when they first come out of the ground. They’re rough and murky looking. To sparkle, they have to be polished.
I doubt Zachary will ever let anyone close enough for that to happen. He or any of his brothers.
Sinful bliss flashes through me. I haven’t done this in ages, and the guilty pleasure of it makes me bite down even harder on my lip. What do they do in that lair of theirs? Drinking and smoking like they own the place. Do any of them ever slip behind that curtain to do what I’m doing?
Alone.
Together?
Fuck.
A tiny moan escapes my lips. I’m so close I can almost—
There’s a knock on the bathroom door.
“Trinity?”
I gasp and flinch away from my throbbing clit. Reuben’s deep voice sends a tremble through me that congregates deep in my belly.
“I’m done!” I call out in a cracked voice. “Be out in a sec.”
He says nothing, but I can imagine him frowning at the door, perhaps considering coming in to make sure I’m okay.
It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I’ve never considered what type of guy I would like—honestly, I’ve never met enough for that to ever have been a consideration, but out of all Zach’s brothers, Reuben strikes me as the sanest. Sure, he’s a bit hot and heavy with his bible, but on him that kind of zealous fervor seems pure and right.
Maybe because that’s the only kind of crazy I understand.
I rinse, turn off the faucet, and dart out of the shower to grab a towel and wrap it around me.
After I’ve dried off and draped Reuben’s rosary around my neck, I slip into one of my own dresses. Mom would have thrown this one out a long time ago, but I’d kept it because it was the prettiest thing she’d ever bought me.
Father wasn’t always a priest. They married young, and tried for years to have a child. Father eventually turned to religion, expecting answers from God for why Mom kept having miscarriages. I guess they ultimately found their answer, because a year or two after my father joined the clergy, Mom became pregnant with me and carried to full term.
She bought this for my sixteenth birthday, but I never got to wear it. The moment my father saw it on me, he sent me back to my room to change.
They had a huge fight that night, and Father left without bothering to stay around for cake.
The cream-colored dress has lace at the bosom and on the hem, and because she always bought everything at least a size too big, I’d grown into it since I last wore it. I’d put it on when they were sleeping and twirl around in front of the mirror, pretending I was just like all the other girls I saw in church, or walking down the street. Girls whose parents let them wear makeup and jewelry and high heels.