Chapter 4

Delilah

Sighing, I snuggle deeper into the sofa. My happy place. The perfect time of day where everyone heads to their rooms and I can sit and read without being distracted.

There may be no one around, but my focus isn’t on the eReader in my lap, but rather the guy upstairs who refused to come down for dinner. Drew showed his face, and pleasantly, although extremely guarded, interacted with the family. I couldn’t keep my eyes from the base of the stairs, every second of dinner spent waiting for him to show up.

Noise at my back startles me, but when I look over my shoulder, I find myself alone.

I turn from having my back against the arm of the couch to facing the direction the noise came from. It doesn’t take long before an unfamiliar figure clears the bottom of the stairs.

Lawson.

Of course, he would show his face after everyone disappeared for the night.

Sitting in the shadows, I watch in silence as he stops and looks around. I can’t tell if he’s familiarizing himself with the layout of the downstairs or if he’s casing the place.

“Can I help you find something?”

He doesn’t jump like I expect, or even turn his head in my direction. He knew I was here the entire time. Under the dim light at the base of the stairs, I watch his hands clench, closing and opening twice before he finally acknowledges me.

“What do you have in mind?” His throaty voice is more seductive than I’d like.

I swallow, the growing lump in my throat. “I-I can make you a sandwich. You must be hungry.”

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me,” he sneers, his anger an overreaction to my simple offer.

“I know you didn’t come down for dinner. I know Drew ate three plates of lasagna before he was full enough to stop shoveling it in.”

The sadness I felt earlier creeps back up at the defensiveness he feels he has to exert at me.

“I just figured you’d be hungry, too.” I set my eReader on the low coffee table. “If you don’t want to eat, that’s fine, but if you’re planning on sneaking out, you can’t use the doors. My dad has already set the alarm.”

“Which one?” he asks.

“Huh? Which door? All of them,” I inform him.

He chuckles, the sarcastic tone grating over my sensibilities.

“Which dad?” he corrects in a way that makes my eyes narrow.

I can get behind him having a crappy attitude because of the life he’s had up until now, but having a problem with my dads because of their sexuality isn’t going to fly.

“Does it matter?” He stays silent, staring in my direction as if he has night vision. “Do you have a problem with gay men?”

He shakes his head, but I can’t tell which question he’s answering.

“They aren’t the first gay couple I’ve encountered, Princess. Which one has you on lockdown?”

My lip twitches in agitation. “We aren’t on lockdown. It’s for our own protection.”

“Protection?” He huffs and turns his head away from my direction. I sag, finally relaxing a little from being under his hard eyes. “Sounds like something Jaxon would do. He seems like a control freak.”

I stand from the sofa, angry at this jerk coming into our home and questioning the way we live. He doesn’t have a damn clue the trouble that could find us from the years my dads spent battling bad guys all over the world. If he could find us so can others. It’s not like we advertise where the Cerberus’ hub of operation is, but it only takes a simple web search to find it.

“Listen, asshole,” I growl closing the distance between us but not getting close enough that he can reach out and touch me. “If you don’t want me to question your life, where you came from, why your brother ate dinner like he hadn’t eaten in days and was terrified he wouldn’t eat again for a week, then you need to stop making hasty judgments where my family is concerned.”

“I think I like you feisty,” he teases with a smirk.

I hate that damn smirk.

“How about you stay away from me and I’ll stay away from you.”

He shakes his head again. “That’s the last thing I want.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I gawk at him, hating the confusion this entire conversation is causing. “Well, you’re rude, and the last thing I want is some boy with a chip the size of Texas on his shoulder ruining my summer.”

He steps a foot closer, and warning bells go off in my head. Immediately, I question my safety in my own home.

“I promise you, I’m all man. There’s not one part of me that’s still a boy.”

I tense, unsure of how to take his blatantly sexual comment. I stand my ground but remain quiet.

“Besides, how will you suck my cock if we’re avoiding each other?” He draws another foot closer, so close I can feel the energy flowing off of his body. “Maybe I can sneak in your room at night? I won’t mind coming to you as long as you stay quiet.”

With wide eyes, I stare up at him, but he’s not finished speaking. For the life of me, I don’t know why I want to hear everything he has to say.

“But don’t worry, Princess. When I’m pressing against the back of your throat, you won’t even be able to whimper.”

“I’d never,” I hiss, taking a step back and finally coming to my senses. “That’s never going to happen between us.”

He shrugs, nonchalant as if he hasn’t just said the filthiest thing I’ve heard directed at me.

“Does that usually work for women? Or is it just another defense mechanism?”

“Women?” He snorts. “You’re far from a woman.”

I want to argue with him, but proclaiming adulthood right now doesn’t seem like the best course of action.

“I normally don’t go after girls, but you’ll do in a pinch.”

“I can assure you, you’re wasting your time.”

“You’ll suck me off eventually,” he predicts.

“I’d rather drink bleach,” I hiss, giving him a wide berth as I walk past him toward the stairs.

“Bleach won’t pull your hair and make your pussy wet,” he calls after me.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I get away from him as quickly as I can. When I realize my eReader is still on the table, I debate going back down to get it. I shake my head at the idea.

“Not even worth it,” I mutter. “I can read on my laptop.”

I click the door lock in place, hoping he can hear it echo in the quiet house. Hopefully, he’ll take a hint and won’t even try to get in here tonight. I war with myself as I climb into bed and grab my phone from my nightstand, wondering if I should tell my dad about what he said.

I decide that he’s just an asshole, all talk and no follow through. He wouldn’t hurt me, especially not in my own home. I know my dads to be teddy bears, but they’re more than a little intimidating. Rob is muscled and fit similar to a college linebacker, and Jaxon is covered with so much ink and piercings only an idiot would challenge him.

The vibration of my cell phone is just the distraction I need. Gigi’s name flashes on the screen, full-on duck lips and a peace sign. She demanded I use the picture.

“Hello,” I answer.

“So?” she hisses.

I don’t answer. I know what she wants, but making Gigi wait for answers is always fun since most everyone in her life gives her what she wants, be it attention from the boys at school, the teachers who think she’s perfect, or her mom and dad who have no clue just how wild their daughter is.

“I saw your light come on, Delilah. I know you’re alone so spill.” I smile at her insistence. “Tell me about the hottie.”

“He’s a jerk.”

“Hmm. He looked like a bad boy.” I hear rustling in the background as if she’s settling in for some serious gossip. “Tell me more.”

“Not much to tell. He’s rude, crude, and egotistical.”

She laughs. “So you hit on him, and he turned you down?”

I roll my eyes at her assumptions.

“That’s gross. He’s Jaxon’s biological son.”

“And?” she says. “I know that part. I heard Mom and Dad whispering about it in the kitchen earlier.”

“That makes him like my brother. So no I didn’t hit on him.”

More like he offered or expected me to do devilish things to him.

“Not even close,” she responds.

“What?” Shaking my head, I try to focus on the conversation rather than wondering where in the house Lawson is.

“He’s not your brother, not by a long shot. You’re adopted, he’s blood. You’ve been there your whole life. From the looks on everyone’s faces at the clubhouse earlier, they’d never seen those boys before in their life. It’s different, but it isn’t gross,” she explains.

“No thanks,” I mutter.

“Give him my phone number,” she urges.

“What? No, I’m not doing that.”

“If you’re not staking a claim, then I should have a shot.”

“He’s not some uncharted territory you can claim, Gigi.”

“Why are you arguing about it?” I shift on my bed, uncomfortable with her questions.

“I’m not,” I finally answer. “He’s all yours.”

“Good.” I can hear her grin through the phone. “Now just let him know.”

“Sure,” I tell her and hang up the phone.

Like I’ll ever have an intentional conversation with Lawson again. Avoiding him at all costs seems to be the best way to survive his and Drew’s intrusion into our lives.