Bend (16 page)

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Evan began to seriously fuck Annabelle’s mouth. Justin glanced up to see Annabelle’s hands clasping Evan’s ass cheeks, her nails digging into the skin as she pulled him forward and encouraged him to give her more and give it harder.

Sliding a second finger into Annabelle’s tight heat, Justin dropped his attention back to what he was doing. He worked Annabelle’s clit as he finger-fucked her ass, corkscrewing his digits to loosen the silky vice his dick was throbbing to fill. Once he stretched her with three fingers, got her pink bud gaping for him, he could take her, bury his aching shaft inside and—

The headboard banging against the wall threw him off his rhythm. Apparently it did the same for Evan and Annabelle since they froze, both their bodies tensing up as if to flee.

What the hell? More pounding while none of them were moving had the light bulb clicking on in Justin’s head. Someone was at the bedroom door.

“Can you guys stop fucking long enough to answer your phones? Or doorbell? Or bedroom door?” Josh hollered through said door.

“Shit!”

“Fuck!”

“Well, not now,” Justin sniped at Evan. He did, however, agree with Annabelle’s heartily rasped ‘shit’. Shit was what he was going to beat Josh into a pile of for interrupting just when he’d been fixing to—

“Rory needs to talk to Annabelle, now!” Josh pounded on the door. Justin shot up off the bed and ran for the door when he realised he hadn’t locked it. There hadn’t been any need, they were in their—well, in his and Evan’s—own home, for shit’s sake. Though if he had anything to say about it, it’d be Annabelle’s, too, and soon.

The sight of the knob twisting was like something out of a nightmare. Icy fear teased Justin’s spine. Josh
knew
what the three of them were doing, and Josh was a grown man, but fuck it all, Justin didn’t want his little brother to see them like this!

“Get in the bathroom,” Justin yelled at Evan and Annabelle. He grabbed the knob and used his greater weight to keep Josh on the other side of the door. The sound of four feet slapping against the floor sucked some of the tension from Justin’s body, but it wasn’t until he heard the soft
snick
of the bathroom door closing that Justin started to calm down. “Give me just a sec, Josh. I dunno what’s so freaking important you have to barge in—”

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Which was exactly what Josh did the second Justin stepped away from the door. Justin snarled and reached to cover his parts. Josh merely cocked a brow at him. “You have some…stuff, right about here.” Josh pointed at his own chin. “I don’t even want to know what it is, either. I’m going to replay this in my head over and over until I convince myself I walked in here and you were brushing your teeth, except that’s not exactly white enough…oh gross!”

Justin would have snickered as Josh turned a couple of shades paler than his norm, but he was too mortified. Carefully keeping one hand over his cock, or over as much of it as he could, Justin swiped at Annabelle’s juices. Then he snickered, and finally laughed until his eyes watered.

“Are you having some type of mental breakdown?” Josh asked in a very professional tone. “Or maybe it’s loss of blood to the brain. Go…cover yourself with something so I don’t have to see your icky nakedness, will you?”

Justin shook his head as Josh stared up at the ceiling. “It reeks of sex in here, which normally would be interesting, but since it’s you, Evan and my best friend, it’s just a very disturbing odour. I might be the one who has a breakdown if you don’t hurry up.”

That nearly set Justin off again, but he managed to pull on a pair of sweats and dig out pairs for Annabelle and Evan along with a couple of T-shirts as well. Josh could just deal with his chest. “I’m decent now,” Justin said as he opened the bathroom door and tossed the clothes to Annabelle. Evan was washing her supple body with a wet rag, and Justin’s cock flared back to full mast in a heartbeat.

“Jesus, can’t you control that thing?” Josh snorted and started towards the bed then stopped. “I don’t wanna sit there. That’s like the bed of iniquity. I might catch bi cooties.”

Josh pivoted on his heel then walked over to the dresser, cocking one hip against the edge of the heavy oak top. Justin glanced down at his straining erection and decided wearing the biggest T-shirt he had wasn’t a bad idea after all. He pulled one on as Evan and Annabelle came out of the bathroom. Both of them looked flushed with embarrassment, Justin thought.

Then again, he didn’t know what they might have been doing in there while he was hiding his willy from Josh.

Willy. Shit.
Maybe he had suffered some brain damage if he was thinking of his dick in such juvenile terms. Justin reached out and took one of his lovers’ hands in each of his own then led them to the bed. The sense of rightness as he held on to Annabelle and Evan, and BEND

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was held in return, gentled some deeply buried part of himself Justin hadn’t been aware existed. He knew at that moment he’d do anything to make their relationship work.

Annabelle didn’t embarrass easily, but she really thought she might melt into a puddle of mortified goop any second now. Before she could ask Josh what had sent him over here, Josh’s cell rang. He plucked the phone out of his shirt pocket and answered it, looking startled as he listened.

“Those are some, er, bright scrubs,” Evan muttered, earning a glare and a finger from Josh.

“Yeah I’m here with her now,” Josh was saying, “no, I can’t do that, but I can have—oh, okay. Sure.” Josh listened for a few more seconds then squeaked, “Me? Why do you want me to—okay. Of course. We’ll be there in an hour. Because that’s the soonest we can get there!”

He gnawed on his lower lip then as he looked at Annabelle. “Rory said he wouldn’t hate me if I didn’t tell him where Annabelle was, he just said he needed to talk to her, so quit asking me that. We’ll be there as soon as we can, I promise.” Josh disconnected the call and tucked his phone away. “That was Chance.”

“Chance?” Annabelle stood up and started towards Josh, aware of Justin and Evan at her sides. “Is Rory okay? Is he hurt or—”

“No,” Josh said, though Annabelle didn’t think he sounded certain. “I spoke to him twice already, once when I was at lunch then again when I took off early to head over here. If
people
would
answer
their phones sometimes…”

“Not now, Josh,” Justin ordered. Annabelle wanted to tell Justin not to bark at Joshie, but then again, she wasn’t in the mood to be lectured either. “What did Rory want?”

Josh shrugged. “I don’t know, he didn’t sound particularly upset, more like concerned the first time he called me. The second time, though, he sounded, I dunno, rattled. This time, I thought…” Josh looked at the floor and crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought maybe I heard him in the background, crying, maybe. It could have been the TV, or someone else, or I could be wrong, but
Chance
called me, not Rory, and Chance was snarly and definitely pissed when I wouldn’t tell him where we were and Rory had told me he didn’t expect me to betray your confidences basically and even so there’s Justin and Evan to consider and I—”

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And he was in full babble mode. Annabelle pulled away from her lovers and snuggled up to her best friend, looping her arms around his neck. “Joshie, it’s okay. Rory
wouldn’t
expect you to narc on me, really, he wouldn’t. Chance is probably just freaked out because something upset Rory.” Which, frankly, scared the hell out of her. Rory wasn’t a whimpering cry-baby, so if it
was
Rory Josh had heard in the background, what in the world could have upset him so? Did that fuckhead who’d hurt him—and Chance, and numerous other men and women—get out of prison somehow?

“We need to go.” Annabelle stepped back and released Josh, who nodded sluggishly.

“We’ll go with you if you need us to Annabelle, or want us to, even, but I don’t know if now’s the best time to break this to Rory,” Evan said. “We’d really like to be there for you if you need us. Your brother, too, like…like family.”

Evan blushed fiercely with the statement, and to Annabelle’s amazement, so did Justin, but both men stared at her intently, telling her silently how much they meant it. “That’s more than I ever expected anyone to do for me, and I”—
might be falling head over heels for you two—

“appreciate it more than I can say, but I think you’re right Evan, now’s not the time, especially since I don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

Annabelle said quick goodbyes to Justin and Evan, promising to call them as soon as she could. She rushed from their house, ignoring the aches and pains that had seemed pleasant such a short while earlier. Her mind was tossing up worst-case scenarios which she rejected almost instantly since they almost always involved Rory being hurt, or Chance. She was certain that wasn’t the case, but Max or Bo…

Josh was silent on the drive for the most part, though he did occasionally murmur reassurances. And he ditched his usually cautious driving, keeping the gas pedal close to the floorboard. An hour’s trip was cut down to forty five minutes, and Annabelle was a tangled wreck of nerves by the time they pulled up in front of the big house. She bolted from the car, Josh keeping up with her as they ran to the porch. It wasn’t until Chance stepped outside that Annabelle realised she was still wearing Justin’s—or Evan’s, or maybe both men’s—clothes, and she could still smell cum, or maybe that was her own paranoia.

Chance eyed her as critically as she did him when she stopped at the foot of the steps.

For the first time since she’d met him, her brother’s partner looked every bit his age. Deep grooves cut into the sides of his face by his mouth. The normally fine lines around Chance’s eyes were more pronounced, the smooth brow was wrinkled, and he just looked exhausted, BEND

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or like he was hurting. Annabelle’s heart ached even as fear made her toes and fingers go numb.

“What? What is it?” Annabelle asked as she clutched at Josh’s hand. Josh scooted closer to her, offering comfort and support with an ease only he ever seemed to have. Chance opened his mouth to answer but Rory appeared in the doorway and beat him to it. His words shocked Annabelle as much as his haggard, tear-streaked face did.

“Dad’s dead.”

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“Dad’s dead?” Annabelle parroted, trying to make sense of those two words. It should have been easy enough to do, yet her mind blanked as she stared at her brother. Rory’s red rimmed eyes and tear streaked cheeks sent his revelation roaring through her head, each word as loud as a sonic boom. An odd buzzing resounded in her ears as her pulse escalated.

“I’ve got you, sweetie.” Annabelle nodded numbly as Josh released her hand and looped his arm around her shoulders instead. “Come on, let’s go inside and snuggle on the couch, okay?”

Annabelle let Josh guide her up the steps and into the house. They settled on the love seat rather than the couch since Chance and Rory were on the larger piece of furniture.

Rory scrubbed at his cheeks then sniffled. Annabelle’s own eyes were so dry they burned, but not because she wasn’t hurting. The grief and loss were growing exponentially inside her with each breath she took. All the good, warm feelings she’d been wallowing in abandoned her with the realisation that there’d never be a chance for reconciliation with her father.

Logically, she knew it never would have happened anyway, but the little girl in her who wanted her daddy’s approval had always hoped that one day he’d see how wrong he’d been and there’d be forgiveness, if not affection.

“He tried to call me today,” Annabelle blurted out as another wave of guilt swelled. “I missed the call but when I saw it this morning on my phone, I just…I just ignored it—”

Chance made a slicing gesture with his hand. “It wasn’t Ian who called you. It was probably the same guy who called us in the middle of the night, some guy by the name of Carlos Navarra.”

Annabelle frowned as she went over the people and ranch hands she knew. The name didn’t ring a bell.

“I didn’t recognise the name either,” Rory said, his voice cracking as more tears leaked from his eyes. “He said…Ian…Dad died almost a month ago.”

The desert-dry feeling vanished as Annabelle’s eyes flooded. Her vision blurred and she opened her mouth to ask how, why, something, but a sob burst free instead. This was BEND

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worse, so much worse than just their father dying. Annabelle curled into herself, hunching as blade-sharp agony ripped through her.

She cried until her head felt thick and heavy, her nose stuffy and her throat raw. Her hands ached from her clenching them into tight fists, and she slowly became aware of being held. Rory cradled her in his lap, his own grief and pain matching hers shudder for shudder, sob for sob.

“What happened to Dad?” She croaked once she could get the words out. “Who is Carlos Navarra?”
Why didn’t anyone notify us sooner?

“Aneurysm,” Chance answered when Rory didn’t speak. “It was very quick. And Carlos Navarra…” Chance glanced away, his lips pinched tightly together.

Rory cleared his throat and tipped Annabelle’s head up. She nearly lost it again looking into his midnight blue eyes. “Carlos Navarra is the new foreman, hired by the man Dad left the ranch to.”

Annabelle’s stomach dipped with a sense of prescience. Rory’s words didn’t shock her as they should have. The only thing she felt was completely numb.

“Dad left the ranch to a son he had before he ever married Mom,” Rory rasped. “We have a half-brother, and he never said a word to us about it!”

It didn’t surprise her. Their father had been a cruel, manipulative man. He’d have got a real kick out of keeping them away from their brother, then blindsiding them with the knowledge of said brother’s existence after the old man died. Wherever the mean bastard was, he would be laughing his ass off.