Dark Devotions by Nichole Greene

9

OLIVIA

The bed isempty but still warm when I wake the next morning. The only sound is the shower running in the bathroom. I decide to lay here until Lake comes out. Turning my head to the side, I breathe in his smoky amber scent from the pillow.

The walls of his room are covered in photos of his family and their home down in Costa Rica. I smile at a picture of the guys with Lake’s sister that had to have been taken here somewhat recently. They’re standing in front of the fireplace at Christmas wearing ugly sweaters. A bittersweet feeling fills my chest at the thought of how many memories they’ve made since I left. I’m glad they had each other, but it shines a light on how alone I’ve truly been.

“That was from this past Christmas,” Lake says. “River joined us for the holidays because Mom and Dad were traveling.”

I smile over my shoulder at him in spite of the hollow ache in my chest. “Looks like you had fun.”

“We did.”

I move to sit up, grabbing the sheet to cover me. I don’t have any clothes in this room to slip on. I start to stand, still clutching the sheet to my chest when he grabs it.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Liv.”

“I know.” I tuck a few loose strands of hair behind my ear while I look away from him. “I’m not used to being naked without hearing insults.”

When I look up, I see the conflict written on his face. “I’m not going to push you.” He steps toward me and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, tilting my head back for close and direct eye contact. “You are fucking perfect. You always have been, and you always will be.” The ferocity of his words is matched by the intensity of his eyes.

I swallow and nod when he lets me go. My eyes lower to the floor but catch on the scars across his side. Pink, puckered flesh marrs the whole expanse of the left side of his torso. I remember feeling ridges there last night, but I didn’t realize it was this bad.

“What happened?” I ask as I run my fingers over the scars.

“I was shot,” he says, pointing at the biggest scar. “The rest are from shrapnel from the explosion that happened afterward.”

“Oh my God.” I look back at him. “I had no idea. Is this why you aren’t still serving?”

He nods, and I wrap my arms around him. The thought that I could have lost him without having come back turns my stomach. I cling to him through a few shallow breaths. He kisses the top of my head.

“I’m okay. It was rough for the first couple years, but I’m good now.” We hold each other for another minute until his watch beeps with a text. “Sawyer is in the air on his way here. I have to go to DC for a few days, then I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” I say, squeezing him again. “I’m glad we had last night.”

“Mmm,” he agrees before kissing me. The kiss is deep and languid, like we have all the time in the world. “Me too. I’m looking forward to many more.”

He releases me, and I walk down the hall to Nolan’s room where all my stuff is. I turn the shower on and stand under the hot spray. There’s a slight ache between my thighs, but the rest of me feels better than it has in ages. I stay under the hot spray for much longer than necessary, until my stomach rumbles with hunger.

I pull on a pair of fleece-lined black leggings and an oversized sweater the color of merlot. I find a pair of Nolan’s socks and pull them up over my leggings. It looks kind of ridiculous, but it’s better than having cold feet.

Lake is standing at the stove, cooking for me again. This time he’s dressed more business-like. He’s wearing a white button-down tucked into navy dress pants. His jet black hair is styled professionally. I could watch him do the most mundane tasks and never get bored.

“Hey,” I say to announce myself as I enter the kitchen. “Smells good.”

“French toast with caramelized bananas.”

“My favorite.” I don’t know why I’m surprised he remembered, but I can’t help the flutters in my heart at the thoughtfulness of this small gesture.

“I know.” He turns toward me and gives me a small smile. “Remember the first time I cooked for you?”

“Yes.” I laugh at the memory. “You accidentally started a grease fire. My uncle’s housekeeper had to put it out with the fire extinguisher.”

“She cursed me out in Spanish, not knowing it was my first language.” He chuckles some more. “I wanted to impress you so bad.”

“Is that what you’re trying to do now? Impress me with your elevated culinary skills?” I ask jokingly.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I just want to take care of you.”

My cheeks heat as I step toward and wrap my arms around him. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

I feel so safe standing in his arms.

The sound of a helicopter pulls us apart. I look out the window over the sink and see Sawyer climb out, grabbing a bag and his briefcase. He’s in a pair of dark wash jeans and a cream-colored fisherman’s sweater. His hair is ruffled from the breeze. He looks so casually elegant he could have just stepped off the set of a GQ shoot.

I return the smile he gives me when he notices me watching him through the window with one of my own and a little wave. He disappears around the back of the house, but I hear him on the patio. The sliding door opens, and then he appears in the kitchen. He fist bumps Lake on his way to me.

I was worried about it being awkward seeing him for the first time in a few days, but it’s anything but. He wraps his arms around me and picks me up, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My hands go to his shoulders and my legs wrap around on instinct. A voice inside my head chastises me for going from one man’s arms to another’s like this, but I bury it. Lake is watching us, looking very far from bothered by it.

“Missed you,” Sawyer says as he gives me a forehead kiss and sets me back down. He sniffs and looks over at Lake. “I hope there’s some for me.”

“Sure thing, I knew you’d be here by the time we were ready to eat. It’s almost done.” He gestures to the table with his head. “Go sit. There’s coffee ready on the table.”

Sawyer grabs a couple of mugs and pours us both coffee, leaving room for my cream and sugar. I giggle when I read what my cup says. ‘Sit on my face’ is written in black typewriter font on both sides.

“Nolan’s cup.” Sawyer’s blue eyes crinkle with mirth.

“As if it could be anyone’s but his,” Lake says with a smirk.

“Yeah, the least surprising thing I’ve been told since I’ve been back.”

* * *

Sawyer and I watch Lake cross the yard to board the helicopter only turning to each other once it’s in the air. He smiles down at me, pulling me in for another hug. I love the way he smells—notes of sandalwood and cedar.

“How have you settled in here?” he asks as he pulls back.

“Good, it’s really nice and cozy.”

“Yeah, we all love getting away from the city and coming out here. Beats the Hamptons in the summer for sure.”

Memories from college summers spent at Grant’s family beach house in Montauk come filtering back. It wasn’t the huge party town it is now, but we still had fun. Nolan spent most of his time surfing with Grant. Sawyer, Lake, and I laid around by the pool. The last summer we spent together was what brought us the closest. It’s when we decided to see if we could function in a poly relationship.

Grant and Lake had the most trouble with it. They’re the most dominant and alpha, respectively. We were also young, and for those types of relationships to work, good communication skills are a must. We didn’t have those back then, so everything was rocky.

I turn and walk into the living room, brushing the memories of that summer to the side. “Do you have anything you need to do today?” I ask him as he follows me.

“No, but I have something for you.” He walks to his briefcase and pulls out a manilla envelope. “The results from the medical tests Dr. Lawson ran on you are in there, as are some documents I need you to sign for your protection order.”

I pull out the envelope from Dr. Lawson first. I’m anemic, so she wants me on iron supplements. I have a negative STI panel which is a relief. I set them aside and catch Sawyer looking at me with concern.

“I’m good. Just anemic and my hormones are out of whack. She wants me on an iron supplement and thinks gaining weight will help me. Negative STI panel.”

“Did she give you a name for the supplement?” He pulls his phone out.

“Yeah, it’s on here.” I hand him the papers.

“Thanks.” He grabs them and starts texting someone. “I’m sending the name to Nolan, so he can pick some up before he leaves the city tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I say absentmindedly as I look over the documents. He’s typed up my reason for wanting the protection order, so it looks like I just have to sign the paperwork. I pick up a pen from the coffee table and sign by the sticky arrows. “How does all this work?”

“I’ll turn everything into the judge and get the ball rolling. We should be able to get everything pushed quickly.”

“Doesn’t this type of thing take time though?”

“Not when the judge is on your payroll.” His statement is accompanied with a cocky wink. “And that protection order doesn’t even need extra help to be approved, especially with Dr. Lawson’s medical findings.”

“Okay.” I slide all the paperwork back into the folder and hand it to him.

“Just so you know,” he says as he puts the folder away, “all four of us have STI panels done every four months. The last round came back a few weeks ago, all negative.”

“Every four months?” I tease him with a raised eyebrow.

“Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Definitely.”

Silence thickens the air between us. I can’t pull my eyes away from his, I could drown in their deep blue depths. His eyes and that perfectly mussed hair have always been my weakness when it comes to Sawyer, at least physically. He’s also incredibly intelligent, but then again, they all are.

“So.” He clears his throat but doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Is there anything you want to do today? What did you and Lake do yesterday?”

“He taught me how to shoot, I took an excessively long nap, and then after dinner we spent some time in the hot tub.”

“Good, I’m the worst shot of the bunch, so I’ll let Nolan work on that with you tomorrow. How about we just relax and watch some movies? Maybe go on a walk before dinner?”

“That sounds perfect.” I stand and take the hand he offers me. “I didn’t know you were familiar with guns.”

He links our fingers and leads me up the stairs to the media room. With the other hand, he reaches behind his back and under his sweater. When he pulls his hand back around, he’s holding a handgun.

“We all own and carry guns at all times.”

“What?” My eyes grow wide. “Why?”

“Personal safety. Some of the things we do under our umbrella corporation aren’t exactly making us popular. We’ve accumulated a lot of enemies over the years. It’s something Grant and I were born into.”

“I had no idea.”

“I know. We decided a long time ago, back in high school, to keep you out of this aspect of our lives. Unfortunately, we can’t do that anymore.”

I don’t know how to feel about that. If they’re doing things that mean they have enemies piling up, how safe can it be to get involved with them again? I can’t even begin to sort my feelings on knowing they’ve been doing this since high school. I never saw the slightest hint of it before.

“Don’t overthink it.” He gently taps my temple. “I promise we’ll keep you safe, and we will never hurt you.” He hands me a tablet with a bunch of movie selections, effectively ending this conversation for now. “Everything can be controlled from this tablet or the panel on that wall.” He points to a panel in the back corner of the room. “Pick whatever you want to watch, I don’t have a preference.”

I scroll through what feels like an endless list of movies and decide on 10 Things I Hate About You. Sawyer gets us drinks and makes some popcorn. There is one giant sectional with enough space for all the guys to fit. I grab a corner seat and a blanket. Sawyer sits next to me and sets the popcorn down between us. He plays with my hair absentmindedly. Occasionally I’ll look over and catch him looking at me. He winks, and I look away quickly. The flirtation goes on all day, through a second movie that he picks.

Sawyer looks at me as the credits roll on the second film and runs through a list of options for dinner. We settle on ordering delivery from a pizzeria in town. He informs me that he’ll have to drive to the front gate of the property to wait for it because they don’t like allowing outsiders here, which sets off some red flags.

I tell him I’ll be fine to hang back at the house while he waits. All the information I’ve gotten has me questioning whether I’m actually making the right choice to stay here. I type Sawyer’s name into Google and skim through what comes up, which is really just a lot of legal stuff. Articles about him and his father’s firm, charities they support. There’s some tabloid coverage, pictures of him with the guys at events. Nothing remotely nefarious, but I know better than anyone how easy it is for monsters to hide.

I’m about to start searching Lake next, but I hear the back door open. I don’t hear footsteps, and immediately the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Unease settles in the pit of my stomach as I look out the kitchen window and see that the car Sawyer used is still gone. I try to tell myself that maybe Sawyer didn’t close the door and the wind blew it open. I walk to the threshold of the living room and risk a glance down the hall.

That’s when I see just the slightest movement shadow darting into Grant’s bedroom. A braver woman would grab a knife and go investigate, but I grab my phone and haul ass outside. I see a light on inside the building that has the gym and shooting range, so I run there, hoping it’ll be one of Lake’s men working out.

My feet are bare and frozen by the time I rip the door open. There are two guys lifting weights, and as soon as they see me, they immediately go on high alert, dropping the weights with a loud clang and coming toward me.

“There’s someone in the house, and it’s not Sawyer. He’s waiting at the front gate for a pizza.” I blurt not knowing if they even know who I am or what I’m doing here. They must though because one runs back into the armory and returns seconds later with three guns. He hands me the same one I used for practice with Lake yesterday.

“Take this,” he says, thrusting it into my hands and running out the door.

The other one stays with me but is already speaking into a Bluetooth headset. With shaking fingers, I call Sawyer. I don’t want him to walk into the house and be hurt.

“Hey, on my way back,” he says as he answers.

“There’s someone in the house,” I manage to say without stammering.

“What?” His voice goes sharp. “Get out of there immediately.”

“I did.” I nod even though he can’t see me. “I’m in the gym. I saw a light on and ran here as fast as I could.”

“Good. I’ll be there in less than a minute.”

True to his word, he’s throwing the car in park and running to me shortly after I hang up. He grabs me and looks me over head to toe. Then he pulls me in for a crushing hug and kisses the top of my head. I don’t even mind the pain in my ribs.

“Tell me exactly what happened and leave nothing out.”

“Sir, real quick,” the man with me interrupts, “Holcomb and Perry are doing a full search of the house, and Davis and Steiner are searching the grounds.”

Sawyer nods and turns his attention back to me.

“I was sitting at the kitchen island,” I almost admitted to Googling him, “surfing the internet when I heard the back door open. I didn’t see you pull up, and when I looked out the window and saw you weren’t there, I looked down the hall. I saw a shadow dart into Grant’s room.”

“Grant’s room?” Sawyer repeats looking perplexed.

“Yeah.”

His eyebrows draw together as he lets that information settle in. Then he looks down and sees the gun I’m holding in my hand. He looks at the guard who gave it to me and nods his approval. “I want you to keep this with you at all times from now on.”

“I’m a terrible shot.”

“Doesn’t matter, use it to pistol whip someone if necessary. We’ll keep working on your aim and accuracy.”

A couple more guys walk up to us from the house and tell Sawyer that it’s clear. They didn’t find anything out of place, no signs of anything missing or tampered with. Doubt creeps into my mind. Could I have been imagining things? In my mind, I start hearing Tripp’s voice as Sawyer and the guard’s voices fade into the background.

You’re crazy.

If you weren’t such a terrible wife, I wouldn’t have to do this.

It’s your fault I’m like this.

“Liv?” Sawyer’s voice pulls me out of my troubling thoughts. “Do you feel safe staying at the house, or do you want to grab a motel room in town?”

“It’s fine.” I rub the tension in my neck. “I’ll be fine. Maybe I imagined it.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “You don’t seem like someone who imagined it.”

“Yeah, but it’s safe here, right? No one really knows about it?”

“We don’t advertise this place, but it’s also not kept entirely secret. There are cameras around the perimeter, if someone was on the property, we’ll figure it out.” He holds his hand out for mine and leads me back to the house.