My head’s so fucked up, I decide to stay away from Piper. I don’t even go down and grab dinner, I have an energy bar in my bedside table. I’ll just eat it and deal. It’s not like I’ve never gone nights without eating anyways. There are some times that I’m on a stakeout that I don’t eat for forty-eight hours.

Things that haven’t ever crossed my mind before she came along are just...there. I don’t do feelings. Haven’t in a very long time. Dad made sure of that one when he beat the shit outta me for crying when Mom left. He locked me in my room for a few days, but Silas managed to sneak food in to me so I ate, at least. He’s always looked out for us and I’m sure that’s what he’s trying to do now, sitting out on the porch with her. He’s cleaning up another of my messes.

She deserves anything better than me. I’d be a horrible father, all of us would, which is why I never planned on having any kids of my own. I don’t know if my brothers would like to be fathers one day, but I sure as fuck don’t wanna be. It’s one of the reasons I freaked the fuck out when I realized I hadn’t used protection. With the example I have to use, the kid would be better off without me as a part of his or her life.

Listen to me, talking like a little bitch. It was one time, what are the odds that she’ll actually get pregnant from it happening once? Who the fuck am I kidding, it would be my luck that she’d end up with triplets or some shit. I couldn’t put her or my kid on the street, guess I need to make sure she sticks around at least long enough to find out if the damage is done.

I turn on my television, sit back and relax. Might as well settle in for the night, lord only knows I don’t feel up to another stumble down the stairs if I ruffle her feathers. I find an old rerun of a television show I liked when I was in my teens, so I get lost in the show and forget about all of my woe’s. Fucking hell, I pull the pillow next to me and sniff, my fucking bed smells like her. I get up and strip my bed, there’s no way in hell I can sleep with her smell clinging in the air.

I go to my closet and pull out a fresh set of sheets, once the bed is made, I grab the air freshener from the bathroom and spray it down. There's no way my mind can think of anything else if I can still feel her here. If I can smell her, I can feel her...simple as that.

I won’t examine how it makes me feel that her smaller body isn’t tucked against me while I watch my show.

Not at all.

Not in this fucking lifetime.

I wake with a start, having heard something that broke through my slumber. Out of bed, my gun in my hand, I creep down the hallway until I reach the door where the noises are coming from. Slowly, I open the door, unsure of what I might face. When the moonlight catches her slight form on the bed, I see the tears streaking down her sleeping face. The foreign feeling of guilt all but brings me to my knees because I know that somehow, I’m responsible for her tears.

Opting to leave her with her dignity, I leave the room as quietly as I entered, closing the door softly behind me. Retracing my steps to my own room, I sit heavily at the end of the bed. From the moment I saw her, she’s been fucking with my head.

Laying back down, I close my eyes and fall fast asleep. Hopefully, this time there’s no interrupted sleep. The sun glaring through the blinds wakes me the next morning. I get up and get dressed, my stomach rumbles in hunger so I sneak my way out of my room and head downstairs. My hope is that I’m awake long before she is so I can eat, then get down to my office without having to cross paths with her. When I enter the kitchen, Silas has prepared some toast, and is spreading some peanut butter on it. It’s what we used to make as kids, I always struggled to eat it, but it became his favorite breakfast.

“I need an energy drink,” I say, surprising him. I never put sugar or that harsh of a substance in my body. I have to be fit to do what I do for this job.

“Get some juice, it’s healthier and won’t have you wired the entire day.”

“Always playing the big brother,” I tease.

“That’s because I’ll always be your big brother,” he jokes back. It sucks being the middle child sometimes. I’m never older than Silas but always older than Jonas.

“C’mon, we’ve got plans to solidify,” I tell him, quickly putting an energy drink together. I opt to use some natural substances instead of the powder shit that Jonas prefers. “Make me some toast, would ya?” I ask Silas.

“With or without?” he questions.

“Without. Still can’t understand how you can eat peanut butter on toast.”

“Butter?”

I think for a second then realize it’s a minimal amount so I nod. I’ll also grab an apple or something to help tide me over until lunch time. “Yeah. Just not sopping like Jonas does.”

“You’re one picky as hell motherfucker when it comes to food,” Silas states, dropping two pieces of bread in the toaster.

“This is a lean, mean, fighting machine and it needs the proper fuel,” I fire back.

“That’s one machine whose ass I can still kick,” he responds.

“In your dreams,” I mutter.

“Were you dreaming last year when I took you down?”

“I was drunk, asshole!” The only bad shit I do allow to enter my body is alcohol. A man needs something to help him unwind after all. Even then, I don’t drink cheap shit.

“Would you like some cheese with that whine?”

“Damn, we’ve reverted back to being teenagers,” I dryly respond.

“Hey, those were good days,” he smiles at the memories. We were rough, rowdy and full of havoc in our younger days. We were the talk of the town and the boys that fathers warned their daughters about. We were the bad boys, the ones everyone saw and locked their doors. No pun intended...they really did, deadbolts and all. I don’t know why, we never stole anything from anyone. Our old man would have beaten us to death if we did, that’s for damn sure. But play hard? Hell yeah.

“Let’s get to work. Gotta make sure this plan is foolproof.”

We grab our breakfast and walk down to our offices. We don’t share one, but they are connected with a jack-n-jill bathroom. I’m going over all the intel that Jonas has come up with for the douche that Piper is going to ‘meet’ on Friday, trying to make sure that we have her as protected as possible.

This man is a kinky motherfucker from what I’m gathering. He likes to not only keep a stash of redheaded women for himself, but he has had a sex dungeon built underground at his home. Looks like Piper may have bitten off more than she can chew by taking on this assignment. She’ll have to play the role of submissive and that’s something I don’t foresee happening.

I can’t see her sitting back and taking orders from anyone, she gave her captors hell even with putting her in chains and holding her sister hostage. I’m not sure if she’s that good of an actress. We’ll have to warn her and see if she’s still feeling up to the challenge.

“Silas? You busy?” I yell out.

“No, what do you want?” he asks, walking into my office.

“Not sure she’s gonna be able to handle it,” I state. “Have you read what Jonas found?”

“She can do it, as long as we don’t let her speak with a British accent.”

“What?”

“Ah, nothing, just something she tried out over dinner last night.” Yeah, the dinner that I purposefully avoided so I didn’t see her. Somehow, I think I’m the one suffering here, because she prances through the house like it’s hers, while I skulk around and keep to my office or my bedroom. This is the time it hits me like a sledgehammer. I help pay the bills here, why the hell am I the one hiding in my room? Man, I need to go to the bathroom and check and see if I’ve grown a vagina. I’m suddenly feeling ball-less. Not like myself at all, this little slip of a woman has entered my domain, and makes me run like a scared little bunny.

“He doesn’t look good, what did you say to him, Silas?” Jonas asks, coming into my office.

“Nothing, really. He called me in here and then went somewhere in his head,” Silas replies. “Maybe he hit his head when they came down the stairs yesterday?”

“Someone needs to talk to her about his likes so she can be prepared, I need a beer.” I don’t care that it’s morning, it’s five o’clock somewhere.

“Beer, it’s not even nine a.m. What the fuck?” Jonas asks.

“You’re better off not knowing,” I reply. Actually, it’s me trying to save face in front of them. I can’t imagine telling them what was just trolling through my mind.

“Maybe I should call the doc, just in case,” Silas muses, looking at me side-eyed.

“Nah, I think he just realized he’s in hot water where Piper is concerned.”

“Boiling,” I mumble under my breath.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Silas replies. From his smirk, I know he’s heard me, so I flip him off and go to my mini-fridge and grab a beer.

“Anyone else?” I ask as I pop the top and guzzle half the bottle.

“Uh, no, I usually like to let my breakfast digest before I indulge in alcoholic beverages,” Jonas states.

“I’m waiting for the steak that Piper’s planning to grill later,” Silas says. Steak? She’s cooking my motherfucking steaks? All I have to say is she better make one for me too. There’s no way everyone is going to sit around, eating my meat without me. Man, that did not come out right in my head.

“What else is she making?” Jonas asks. Why the fuck does he care?

“Said something about twice-baked potatoes with the fixings, a salad, asparagus, and a chocolate cake.”

Okay, there’s no way in hell I’m not partaking in that meal.

Then it occurs to me, how in the fuck did she get those ingredients into my house without me knowing? Deciding I’ve had enough, I stomp back upstairs to confront her.

Only to stop when I reach the kitchen and see her puttering around, humming to herself, as she gets the stuff for the cake. “Piper,” I say. I see her jump a little before she calms herself.

“Atticus.”

Alrighty then, she’s gonna make this hard on me, huh? Well, I’m the master mindfuck so game on, sunshine! “Understand you’re making steak for dinner.”

“Yep,” she replies, popping the p. “That okay with you?”

“As long as there’s one for me, don’t care what you make.” Just hope she doesn’t decide to poison mine.

“Of course, Master, anything else, Master?” She bows like a servant. I’m not sure I like this flippant side of her, even though I do enjoy the verbal sparring we’ve done in the past.

“Knock it off, Piper. You’re not a servant here and you damn well know it.” Okay, my mindfucking is obviously lacking because she’s looking smug.

“How do you like yours cooked?” she asks.

“Medium rare,” I answer.

“Good choice, I’ll make sure you get it cooked the way you want it.” She turns around dismissing me.

“We need to talk to you about the guy you’ll be approaching.”

“What about him?”

“He has...particular tastes,” I try to figure out how to say it.

“As in?”

“He, let’s just say, he likes his women submissive. Like down on your knees, chained up type of kink.”

“Well, as long as he doesn’t get me back to his place, I should be fine. I know how to get to men, Atticus. I can play the part well.”

“Is that what you were doing with me?” The question slips out before I can stop it.

“No, not you,” she whispers, turning away from me.

“Me either,” I say, walking out of the kitchen and back down to my office. I spend the rest of the day buried in work and decide that tomorrow will be the day I recon the bar and make sure I know all the entrance and exit points.

Jonas stops in and says, “Dinner’s ready,” before he heads on up to the kitchen. I groan as I stretch, then realize that I was so focused on my tasks, I forgot to eat lunch. Sure hope the steak’s a big one. I’m so famished, I could eat the whole damn cow by myself.

I make it to the kitchen to see my brothers jostling to grab their steaks so they can eat out on the deck. Piper’s standing there, plate in hand. “Here, this one’s yours,” she says, pointing to a steak that might satisfy the hunger I’ve got raging.

“Did you spit in it? Is that the reason you’ve made mine and are holding it separate from my brothers?” I’m teasing...kind of. I really am concerned she may have dropped a loogie in my food.

“What? No!” she exclaims. “This is the biggest one, asshole, and it’s cooked the way you requested.” I nod and take the plate and add the steak. I don’t miss her muttered, “Sure hope you like hot sauce.”

Smirking, I go to the fridge and grab the bottle of Texas Pete, placing it under my arm, so I can also grab a bottle of beer. Can’t count on my worthless brothers to have thought of my thirst. I see her eyes widen and my grin grows larger. Seems little Miss Piper may have doctored my steak a bit. Little does she know that I actually enjoy hot sauce, but she’s gonna find out. There’s nothing wrong with a little spice to your food. I love things hot and spicy, hence why she’s been on my radar since the night she opened her mouth.

Her eyes follow me as I make my way to the porch, I sit down and begin adding the sauce. She hesitantly walks out behind me, her plate in her hands, and sits down across from me. She keeps her eyes on me at all times, I guess she’s expecting some payback, but this time, I’m going to let her sit and stew in her own juices.

I cut a piece of my steak and moan at how well-prepared it is. It’s cooked to perfection, just the way I like it. “Is...is it any good?” she asks me, her eyebrows hitting her hairline.

“Needs more spice,” I say, adding a touch more.

“Ummm...okay, other than that?”

“Perfect, melts in my mouth,” I say, winking at her to egg her on.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” she says, hesitantly cutting into her own steak. “Jonas, Silas, how are yours?” she asks them.

“Great!” Jonas exclaims. “I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he says, shoveling his face full of meat.

“Chew, Jonas,” Silas advises him. I don’t think he’s really tasting the food.

“Hell, I think we need to keep you even after we find your sister,” Jonas adds, “because none of us can cook like this, and I like to eat.” Fucker. I give him a death glare which he pointedly ignores.

“What did you do to these potatoes?” Silas questions.

“Um, I cut them in half, then baked them, then scooped out the cooked potato, added milk, butter, chives, cheese, and sour cream, then put it back in the skins, covered it with more cheese and baked them. Why?” she responds, looking at him.

“Best fucking things I’ve ever eaten.” I would call bullshit, but he’s speaking the truth. However, I may kill my brothers yet, if they don’t stop flirting with and about my woman’s cooking abilities.

My hand stops mid-air at my thought. What the fuck? My woman?

My woman?

I’m screwed.

Because whether I want to admit it or not, deep down I know she belongs to me. Now, I just need to get my head, and heart, on the same page, and stop making an ass out of myself in front of her. And I guess it wouldn’t hurt if I stopped being a dick to her as well.

Can I do that?

Do I even know how?

I doubt it, but I’m going to give it a try. Because I do want her, possibly even need her, in my life.

“Is everyone prepared for Friday night?” Silas asks us.

“I’m going to check out the bar tomorrow, make sure we know the ins and outs of the establishment. I don’t want any surprises thrown at us. I’m not taking any chances with Piper.” She looks over at me, shock clearly written on her face, but she doesn't say anything, just keeps tucking her food away.

“What?” I ask her. “You could be carrying the next generation of the Nelson lineage. Need to make sure you come out of this unscathed.”

“I appreciate that,” she quietly says. She clears her throat, “I’m ready, I’ve even been researching submissive behaviors. I want to make sure I’m as appealing to him as possible.”

“Not too appealing,” I grunt out.

“I know how to do my job, Atticus.”

“I’m sure you do,” I reply, “but that doesn't mean I want him to need you for himself.”

“Isn’t that the goal, Atticus?” Jonas asks. I throw a dinner roll at him.

“Shut the fuck up, Jonas.” Then I turn to Piper and say, “yes, but I have read that when he desperately wants a woman, he’ll roofie her, and we don’t want that. So make sure you don’t leave a drink unattended at any time.”

“I won’t, thanks for the heads-up,” she responds, grabbing her glass of milk and taking a drink. I watch as it goes down her throat, and I remember when that was me there. It makes me want to take her and shove her to her knees, and have my dick be in there, swallowing, slurping...fuck!

“You okay over there?” Silas asks, smirking at me as I move restlessly. The fucker knows where my thoughts just went, it’s no secret what any man in my position would be thinking. Plus, it’s not like I can adjust myself in front of them either. Fucker.

“So, who wants chocolate cake?” Piper asks, looking at our empty plates.

“Why is that a question?” Silas shoots back. “Serve it up, woman.”

She laughs before heading back inside to grab the cake and fresh plates.