Despicable by Rory Miles

BELLATRIX

The next afternoon, while Dax is sleeping off his guard shift and Creed is working, Ronan and I relax inside. We had a quiet morning of hanging out together in companionable silence, so when he abruptly stands from his desk and tosses his cards down, I stop reading and eye him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, sticking an old scrap of paper to mark my spot in the historical romance I found on a bookshelf in the living room.

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Okay. I’ll come with you.”

His eyebrows pinch together and he purses his lips.

“Unless you don’t want me to?” I try not to sound bothered by his reaction, but the way his face instantly softens tells me I did a bad job of concealing my emotions.

“No, it’s okay. You can come with.”

“I don’t mind staying behind if you’d rather be alone.” And now I sort of don’t want to go if the thought of me coming really bothers him so much. Glancing back at my book, I start to skim the page I’d been reading, giving him the opportunity to escape without it getting more awkward.

Fuck emotions. I hate them.

“Trix,” he says.

“Hmm?” I don’t look up.

If I ignore him, he’ll leave me alone. Though I’m pretty sure if he leaves, I’ll be more upset than if he stays to try and talk it out with me. See? Emotions are stupid.

Maybe I’m PMSing.

He sighs heavily, and I hear him walk over to where I’m sitting on the couch. Out of my peripheral vision, I see him scratch his beard. I let him sweat, because it would sound really crazy if I blurted out how much his reaction bothered me. Besides, if he wants me to be a part of his life, he’ll need to figure out whatever it is he’s going through and stop pushing me away.

“Trix.” His voice is softer, more insistent, so I glance at him.

“Ronan.”

He extends his hand and gives me a hopeful smile. “Walk with me?”

“It’s fine, really. I know you probably want to have alone time. You don’t have to offer because you feel bad for me.”

“I don’t feel bad for you.”

I lift an eyebrow. “This isn’t a pity ask?”

“No. I want you to come with me. I didn’t mean to make that face, I just… My head’s all fucked up.” Ronan looks at his feet and sticks his hands in his pockets.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, setting the book aside and standing. I take a step into his space. “I’m a great listener.”

“I like you, Trix.”

I grin. “I like you too, Big Guy.”

A pained look crosses his face, and he shakes his head, like he doesn’t believe me or something. Blowing out a hard breath, he curses.

“I’m such a downer. I’m sorry.”

“Wow. Listen to that negative self-talk. Why do you think you’re a downer?” I ask, putting my hand on his chest. “The Ronan I know is hilarious.”

He searches my face, and I think he might open up. He’s on the verge of letting me in and telling me what he’s thinking when Creed bangs into the house.

“Babe! I’m so fucking thirsty, and it’s not just water I want!”

I can’t help but laugh at that, and for some reason my response makes Ronan pull away. I drop my hand, giving him a confused look, but he turns to glance at Creed.

“Water is all you get because you’re still on duty.”

“I know.” Creed groans, grabbing a cup and filling it with tap water. “What are you guys doing?”

“Going for a walk,” I say, snatching Ronan’s hand before he can protest and dragging him toward the front door. “I’ll see you tonight about your thirst. I might be able to help.”

Creed chuckles darkly, and I know exactly where his mind went. Mine is more worried about Ronan though, so I continue pulling him out of the house and toward the small dirt path in the trees.

Now maybe he’ll talk.

* * *

RONAN

Her skin is sosoft but her grip is strong. She refuses to let me go when I try to pull my hand back, and part of me is glad she denies me because I’m a masochist and like torturing myself with things I can’t have.

“So,” she begins, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you?”

I shake my head. “I’m fine, Trix. How about you? How are you handling everything?”

Perhaps turning the tables on her is a little rude, but it diverts the attention from me to her. Besides, she hasn’t mentioned much of anything about her family and I know she must miss them. I expect her to change the subject because she doesn’t like talking about her emotions either, but she surprises me.

“I’ve been avoiding thinking about it for the most part. I don’t know if I’ll get used to the idea of never seeing my family again. I miss them so much.” She side-eyes me. “What about you? Do you miss your family?”

Grimacing, I look through the trees, ducking under a low branch as we walk. It’s pretty warm out today, but the humidity makes it a bit uncomfortable. Sweat breaks out across my forehead because of it, not because of her question.

“I actually miss my friends the most.”

She nods, biting her lip and frowning. “Your parents?”

I shrug. “A bit. I miss having a mom, but I don’t miss my mom, if that makes sense.” Since she’s being honest, I may as well be. It’s not like the guys and I get deep into our emotions, so this is the first time I’ve talked about how I feel.

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

“You know how parents are supposed to be this unshakeable pillar of support and unconditional love?”

Her face softens and her eyes drift to the side, a small grin pulls at her lips. “Yeah.”

She’s probably thinking about her family. From what I’ve gathered from the little she’s said, she had a great childhood. Such a difference from what I experienced growing up. As if realizing this might be the case, her smile falls and her eyes fill with worry.

“My mom was always there, but her love was conditional… and she hardly ever showed me her support. I heard how pathetic I was more than how she loved me.” I grind my teeth together and stare straight ahead, unable to watch Trix’s face fill with pity.

We walk for a few minutes in silence; Trix’s fingers tighten around mine, like she’s trying to comfort me without being overly obvious. She stops, and I turn to face her, swallowing the lump in my throat when I see nothing but affection in her eyes.

“You’re not pathetic, Ronan.”

I wrinkle my forehead. “How do you know that?”

Scoffing, she drops my hand and pokes my chest. “Because I’ve seen you take care of Dax and Creed. I’ve seen how you look after the house. How you care about whether they’re too tired for their shifts. You’re not pathetic at all, Ronan. You’re amazing.”

“Trix, you don’t have to try to make me feel better.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’m not trying to make you feel anything. I’m stating facts. You know what’s pathetic? A mom telling her son he’s pathetic. That’s disgusting. She’s supposed to love you, not treat you like shit. You didn’t deserve that. Hell, no kid deserves that sort of parenting.”

“Sometimes I wish there were at least one thing wrong with you,” I mutter, running my hands over my face.

Laughing a little, she pinches her eyebrows together. “I definitely fart. Does that make you feel better?”

“Oh that’s disgusting, Trix.” I pretend to be offended. “Thanks for telling me before I fall too hard.”

She shoves my chest again, giggling and grabbing my hand so we can continue our walk. I bite my cheek, shooting a quick glance in her direction. She’s smiling, and for some reason seeing her happy makes me happy.

That’s when I know I’m in danger.

I know there’s this stigma that big guys are supposed to be macho, manly men who don’t acknowledge their feelings, but I’ll be the first to admit, at least to myself, that I have a lot of emotions and they’re loud. Like all the love I was denied growing up made me desperate for connection, and now that Trix has shown me an ounce of kindness, I want to wrap her up in my arms and keep her to myself.

Only she’s not mine, and she probably never will be.

I have to be careful, because she makes it easy to forget about keeping my distance. I have to protect myself from getting hurt again.

* * *

CREED

I’m sitting in the guard tower for my night shift, hating that I have to stay awake for another six hours and Trix isn’t with me. She’s at home with Ronan and Dax, but Dax will be here soon enough to keep me company. While I think I’d be okay by myself, she insisted we stick to the double guard at night. It’s cute she’s worried about us, but the arrangement is cutting into my time with her.

The street lamp a few feet over lights the area around me, and I watch as Dax walks down the road, heading for the tower.

“Hey, man.”

“Hey,” I call.

He climbs up the ladder, taking the extra chair next to me. He sets his hands behind his head and sticks his feet out, taking up as much space as he can.

Such an alpha move.

I try not to stare at the strip of abs I can see, but my gaze strays that direction before I can stop it.

“Jealous?” Dax asks, running his palm over his stomach.

Swallowing down the flare of lust rising within me, I pull my eyes from his abs and meet his, shaking my head. “No way. Mine are better.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah right. Show me.” There’s a glint of a challenge in his irises, like he doesn’t think I’ll do it.

Standing, I yank my shirt up and slip my thumb in my shorts, pulling them down a little so he can see almost the entire V. That’s the important part. The street lamp doesn’t offer much light, but I swear his pupils dilate when he traces his eyes down my stomach.

Sometimes I’m not sure what to think about him. There are days where I’m pretty certain he’s flirting with me, but before I can figure out if he is, he backs all the way off and I wonder if I imagined the whole thing in my head. I always wrote it off as my imagination running wild since it had been so long since I’d gotten laid, but now that I’ve been having plenty of sex, I know I’m not imagining the way his eyes grow hooded or the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

Brushing my thumb over my skin, I put my shorts back in the right place and pull my shirt down, watching him tuck away his reaction before he meets my gaze. It’s too late though, because I watched him the entire time, and I know he liked what he saw.

A beat of silence passes, and I start to worry he’s going to react the same way my best friend did when he realized we were fated mates.

“Don’t worry, bro. We can both be hot,” I say, running my hand through my hair and sitting back down.

“I’m definitely hotter,” he jokes, slapping my arm with his hand.

“At least you’re humble about it,” I mumble.

He laughs. “Anything interesting happen before I got here?”

I release a soft breath, relieved that the moment didn’t ruin everything between us. I’m attracted to Dax, but I don’t want to fuck up our friendship by admitting as much to him.

Best to pretend like nothing happened, right?