I sit on my bed and think about what just happened. How did I let us get into this position? I know my anger was misdirected, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. Sometimes, I take my issues out on others around me, and the one that my anger should be directed at is myself. It’s why I don’t have friends, why I don’t give myself to anyone. It’s why being alone is the best thing for me.

Even if it means I’m lonely.

I know I can’t sit in here, a room that suddenly feels lonely and stale, and hide out forever, sulking and wallowing, in my self-proclaimed misery. So I go ahead and put on my socks, and then boots on my feet and head downstairs to seek out my brothers.

Entering Jonas’ sanctuary, I ask, “Got anything yet?”

He skeptically looks at me then asks, “You okay, man?”

“Been better,” I honestly reply.

“There’d be worse things than accepting you two are made for each other,” he states. He knows nothing of my relationship with Piper. Who does he think he is anyways, Dear Abby?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I growl. I don’t need a woman in my life on a full-time basis.

“C’mon, you can sell your shit to someone else, because from where I’m sitting, you two are dancing around this whole thing.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, the only thing we need to discuss is finding Destiny and getting those two out of our lives.”

“Thinking that’ll be easier said than done. She’s under your skin, Atticus.”

“The hell she is! She’s a job, nothing more and nothing less.”

“Mmhmm, can’t remember the last time I fucked a job.”

“That’s because it’d be a little difficult to do with your electronics, brother,” I sneer. Low blow I know, but he needs to get out of my business, and worry about his own.

“Touché,” he says, turning around and looking back at his screens.

“Sorry, brother.” I find myself apologizing. He doesn’t recognize me, acting as if I’m not in the same room with him. I sigh, sit down on the spare chair in his room and bide my time. He’ll eventually cave and talk to me.

“What have we got?” Silas asks, walking into the room.

“A whole lot of nothing so far,” Jonas replies, his face glued to his monitors. “We may need someone to go into that bar to get close to that clown.”

“Sinclair Robenstein?” I ask.

“Yeah, that clown,” Jonas answers.

“What do we know about him so far?”

“Well, I can tell you he runs the safe houses, procures women, and loves redheads. Specifically, with blue eyes and hourglass figures. He takes them and keeps them for his personal use.”

“Do we know any redheaded women?” I ask, because none of us are attracted to anything but blondes and brunettes.

“I can always wear a wig and contacts,” comes from the one voice that I’m trying to avoid.

“They know you, won’t work,” I respond.

“It’s called a disguise, ever heard of it?” So, we’re back to the snarkiness...what the fuck ever.

“It might work,” Silas muses, looking at her. “We can put some of the guys in there to keep shit from happening, since we’re known.”

The need to protect her and keep her safe overwhelms me, but before I get a chance to object, there is already a plan forming.

“She has the ability to make it work,” Jonas adds.

“Yes, she does. So, we know he enjoys redheads with blue eyes. What else?”

“The sluttier they dress the better.” I suddenly have a vision of her in a see-through top and short as fuck mini-skirt. Fuck me heels and a made-up face.

“Oh! More shopping,” she exclaims. “Totally down with that. Let me get started. Slut clothes, huh?”

Fuck me.

Why did my brothers agree to this?

Somehow, she’s inserted herself into this operation. And wouldn’t you know it, I’ll be her backup. Which means I’ll have an up close, and personal view to her show.

“How short is ‘too short’ anyway?” she asks, breaking into my thoughts.

“Should cover your ass at least, but you can’t go wrong with a garter-belt showing. Men love that shit,” Silas replies. I resist the urge to pull out my gun and kill him. He’s my fucking brother, but right now, my brain doesn’t compute that important fact.

“Don’t forget heels,” Jonas adds. The two of them must have a death wish. They may find themselves becoming fish fodder if they keep this shit up. I’m already going to Hell, so adding them to my list of bad deeds is looking good.

“Stilettos?”

“Absolutely,” Silas states. “The higher you can wear, the better. You’re kinda short.” The fuck are they up to? I swear I’m going to cut their tongues from their mouths if they keep giving her ideas.

“Yes, I’ve always wanted to play stripper, it’s been a fantasy of mine for a long time.” And now, I’m picturing her swinging around a pole, and swaying those hips in tune with the music.

“Pole dancing is the new exercise, or so I’ve heard,” Jonas says. That’s it! I’ve had enough.

“You both need to shut the fuck up before I take your asses downstairs for a little show and tell,” I growl out.

“What’s the problem, Atticus? It’s not like you two are in a relationship or anything,” Silas states. That motherfucker! I give him a death glare and he has the gall to smirk at me! So this is how the game is going to be played? I can’t wait for the day to come that I can pay them back for these snarky innuendos. And I will, my memory is a vault full of information.

“Yeah, we just fucked a few times,” she adds.

“Just because it was forgettable, doesn’t mean I want to see you dead.” There, take that you mouthy little shit.

“Forgettable? We’ll see if that’s the case in nine-months...hmmm?” She just had to go there. Now, I wanna bend her over my lap and beat her ass raw.

“Don’t worry, if my sperm makes a home in one of your eggs, I’ll make sure our kid is well cared for.”

“Enough!” Silas bellows out, “you two need to grow up. Or did you two forget the reason for all of this is because there’s an innocent woman out there who needs our help?”

“I didn’t forget,” Piper whispers, tears leaking from her eyes.

“Me either, if we’re going to do this, let’s forget about our troubles and get her out of there. She is innocent in all of this and deserves our undivided attention,” I agree.

“Then let’s get back to business. Piper, go order your clothes and Atticus, meet me in my office in ten so we can go over the blueprints of the bar and come up with the best plan and exit route,” Silas dismisses us.

I get the perfect outfit ordered, but my mind doesn’t stray far from the latest argument between me and Atticus. Was he implying he’d take our kid from me? I have no leg to stand on, no job, no home and no money waiting on me in the bank. How do I think I’d be able to feed or clothe a kid anyways? All I can do is hope that nothing comes from our forgetfulness and move on with my life.

I don’t care if we are living under a bridge somewhere, as long as Destiny is safe and with me again, nothing else matters. Not even the man who haunts me in sleep or when I’m awake. We were doing so good, I just had to go and open my big fat mouth.

And attacking him! Where the hell did that come from? I’m not meek by any means, but I’ve never been the one to strike first. I decide a bubble bath is in order since I’ve done my assigned ‘job’ so to speak. Maybe a nap after that so I can escape the movie that plays in my head.

He may have thought I was a forgettable lay, but I’ll never forget him.

His kisses.

His touches.

Him wrapping me in those strong, muscular arms. I’ve never felt so safe.

Him making me come harder than I ever imagined.

I sigh, standing up from the chair at the desk where my borrowed laptop is stationed, and go and find something to change into after my bath. I want to be comfortable when I nap. I hate feeling confined, so I never rest in my daily attire.

I wake up and stretch my aching limbs. Seems the stress of mine and Atticus’ issues is not only messing with my mind, but affecting my body as well. Of course, us tumbling down the stairs didn’t help my bruised body either. Fuck him, I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me suffer.

Looking at the alarm clock, I notice it’s five-thirty. I get up and head down the stairs to cook dinner. Wanting something light, so I don’t lose the contents of my stomach later, I decide a grilled chicken Caesar salad will do quite nicely. And if they don’t like it they can kiss my ass!

Lost in thought, I shriek when I hear, “He’s not a bad guy.”

Spinning around, I see Jonas standing there, watching me. “Yeah, well, my experiences and beliefs differ from yours, obviously.”

“We haven't had the ideal life,” he tries to defend Atticus.

“Have any of us? That’s not an excuse to treat people the way that he does.”

“I seem to recall you giving it as good as you were getting it.” This is true, there’s something about Atticus that sets me on fire.

I sigh because he’s right. “I don’t know why we rub each other the wrong way,” I admit.

“Maybe because you’re both fighting this sizzling-spark, that’s so brightly lit everyone around y’all can see it but you two? Y’all are both pretending it doesn’t exist and are denying it with everything you’ve got?” he suggests.

“Who knows? My priority is Destiny. What I might want in my life has to take a back seat right now. Besides, your brother said it himself —I’m a forgettable fuck.”

Jonas starts laughing, and I know my mouth is gaping at his response. “You...you honestly bought that load of shit he was selling? Piper, you’ve not known him long, but I can tell you this for a fact, he’s the most relaxed he’s ever been since you came along.”

“That’s him relaxed?” I question. Atticus walks around like he’s got a damn rocket ready for takeoff shoved up his ass, always assuming the worst of those around him, and Jonas is trying to say he’s been relaxed?

“You can sell that load of manure to a different farmer. I’m not buying it.”

“The things you say,” he leans over, clutching his stomach in laughter. “Farmer, you,” he continues laughing. I didn’t think it was that damn funny! “God you’re a pistol, no wonder Atticus calls you Hellcat. You are that and so much more,” he says, wiping under his eyes.

“Watch it, Jonas, or these claws are going to come out and scratch you all to hell,” I say, placing my hands on my hips for emphasis.

“I like women who are fiesty, so I might like that form of play.”

Damn, why is it I can never get one over on the Nelson brothers? And their version of foreplay is much different than mine. “Get out of here so I can get dinner started,” I demand.

“Fine, but let me leave you with this thought. The only woman he ever loved and trusted ran out on him.” With that, he turns and walks out of the room. What woman is he talking about? Is she the reason he won’t even give a little and give me a chance? Why is it even something I’m worried about? Destiny. She’s my priority. I keep having to remind myself of this fact so I don’t wallow in my own problems with a certain man.

Getting back to business, I get busy making dinner. I turn on the radio and decide I’m in a country and western type of mood. I find a station that is playing the most current songs—and blast it. I don’t know if the guys listen to this type of music, but for now, this is my domain so I shake my booty, and let my worries go.

Once dinner is done, I call up to Jonas using the phone, then hang up and grab myself a soda and my plate. It’s nice out tonight, so I’m gonna eat on the deck that’s just off the media room. It’s screened in, so there are no bugs, thank God, and the serene view will hopefully calm my nerves. I’m still so fucking pissed at Atticus. I wanna beat him over the head with his own arm.

“May I join you?” Silas asks, coming out on the porch.

“It’s your house,” I say to him.

“So, about Atticus…”

“Stop right there,” I say holding up my hand. “I’ve already had the ‘Atticus is a good guy’ speech from Jonas. I don’t need to hear it from you as well. I’d like to eat in peace if you don’t mind. We can talk about anything else you want to, but not him.”

“I’ll just say this much and then leave it. The only woman he ever cared about, our mother, jetted out of our lives when we were kids. Cut him some slack because up until you came along, he had no close physical contact, other than the occasional fuck with anyone of the female persuasion.”

Huh. Well, he told me more than Jonas did and now my mind is whirling. Why would a mom leave her kids? How could she do that? I mean, my mom was a Grade-A piece of shit growing up, but she was still there, at least. I wonder if his overall hardness has more to do with her leaving and less to do with what he does for a living. More importantly, I wonder if I got under his skin the way he got under mine.

“So what do you do?” I ask, before taking a bite of my salad. I’m a helluva good cook, and as much shit as I give them about eating clean, I enjoy the variety of fruits and veggies they have. Plus, they get good cuts of meat, something that was scarce in my recent past.

“Whatever needs to be done,” he replies. “This is pretty good,” he says, taking another bite. “Bet it’d be good with steak, too.”

“It’s just salad, Silas. Nothing fancy, I definitely didn’t set out to cook a gourmet meal or anything.” I can tell he’s trying to suck up, but I’m not in the mood to deal with anything Atticus related right now.

“So, about the job,” he quickly changes the subject. “When will your clothes, wig and accessories arrive?” Good save, I think to myself.

“Tomorrow, when are we going to put our plan in motion?”

“As soon as we make sure your disguise is unrecognizable. So more than likely Friday night.” It’s Tuesday now, so that gives me plenty of time to get my head cleared and ready to take on this guy. I hate waiting three days, but we need to get the information from the man I’m meeting in order to find her.

“Sounds good, let me know if you’re able to find any likes and dislikes of this guy, other than looks that is. Should I use an accent?”

“What kind of accent?”

“I don’t know, British maybe?”

“Let me hear it,” he demands, leaning back in his chair, his full attention on me.

“Cheerio…”

“No,” he immediately cuts me off.

“You didn’t let me finish!”

“I can just tell that’s not gonna work,” he replies. “Plus, that was horrible, my old nanny was Spanish, and could’ve done a better job than what you just did. Why not talk like you normally do?”

“It was just a suggestion,” I pout.

“Well, consider it taken under advisement and squashed.”

“Fine,” I mumble. I thought it was a pretty good impression, personally. But whatever, he’s the boss so I have to do what he says.

“Stop pouting, it doesn’t suit you.” He sternly states, looking at me like a father would while speaking to their child.

“Yes, Dad.”

“Smartass. Think I’m understanding Atticus’ attraction.”

“Yep!” I implore. “And fuck Atticus.”

“Think you already did that, it’s what has y’all fighting in the first place.”

“We aren’t fighting because of sex, Silas. We’re actually fighting because he’s an insensitive jerk-off.”

“Wow, okay, I wasn’t aware I was speaking with a kindergartener. Should I try and break it down further so you understand the words coming out of my mouth?”

“Wow! What did y’alls dad do? Sit you all down and teach you how to make a woman feel an inch tall?”

“Hmmm...funny thing about our dad. He was an ex-soldier, and meaner than a drill sergeant in heat. We were more scared of him than a rattlesnake. He wasn’t a man who sat us down and taught us anything, other than how to take a fist, and how to take an insult and still keep on ticking.” Okay, now I feel like a complete ass. First, their mom abandons them, and now I find out their dad was an abusive asshole.

“Sorry,” I mumble out. What else can I say? Sounds like it’s a miracle the three of them shower on a regular basis and aren’t complete psychopaths.

“Nothing to apologize for. We survived, but it affected each of us differently.”