No Simple Sacrifice (Secrets of Stone Book 5) (19 page)

:: And I you. Talk to you later. ::

I tossed my phone onto the bed. Couldn’t help but sigh when I remembered their two big bodies in it, seemingly a lifetime ago. A sigh erupted as I flopped back over the comforter.

Lord. I was like a teenager with her first love. Damn dramatic, but I didn’t have much to go on. Gavin was never much for texting—or calling—or
talking,
for that matter. It was so obvious to me now, what an asshole he’d actually been. Drake and Fletcher had cleared my eyes, through the sheer force of their patience and love. Inhaling the bouquet of blooming roses on the nightstand—they sent a fresh bunch every three days, in different colors and species all carrying different meanings—reminded me of it all over again. And confirmed that leaving Gavin was the best thing I’d ever done.

The conviction clung, even as I remembered Papka and Mama’s reaction.
We’re not mad, Natalia. Just disappointed.

“Disappointed.”

The universal ax given to all parents for making their kids feel three inches tall—if not failures to the most epic degree. Even with the inner healing I’d embraced about it lately, it was still impossible not to feel stabbed by their words. I’d probably never be what they wanted. That, I could finally face. But the woman I had grown into was someone to be proud of, not ashamed—and not a disappointment. Would they ever know me for who I was, not for who I
wasn’t
? Probably not, but maybe one day, seeing how Katrina toed the line on conforming to their ideal mold. But she didn’t let them see what I did: that she was miserable about it. She loved Anya with her whole soul, but hadn’t fulfilled every goal she’d wanted to achieve for herself—nor would she ever realize them now. Moreover, I was pretty sure that Victor, her husband, was “keeping her in line” in physical ways too—but whenever I tried to bring it up, she angrily changed the subject.

I wouldn’t end up that way. I swore it with an intensity that gripped to the marrow of my bones. The darkness of Gavin was behind me, and I’d never revisit it again. I’d rather deal with a lifetime of “disappointing” Mama and Papka than another day of what he’d called “tough love.” I wondered what Victor called it with Katrina—then promptly shut the thought down. I could only keep trying to get through to her, and hope that one day she’d be desperate enough to listen.

Kick dirt over the shit—then walk away from it.

I smiled, remembering the day Margaux had given me the gift of her advice. The woman was one of the strongest people I’d ever met, that opinion being cemented even more so after I’d learned the story of what had happened with her own family. She’d survived it all with courage, grace, and style—and never let anyone put her down for it, either. It was scary crazy, how accurately her words had pounded the nail on the head about Mama and Papka. I strove to grasp the advice, my spirit embracing how right it was. Life didn’t have a backspace key—so why would I let sludge and negativity continue to dictate the words of my story? As Margaux would say, I needed to drop-kick that shit. I didn’t want to have a life without my family in it, but if they couldn’t support my choices, it could possibly boil down to choosing between them and the men I loved.

I pressed both hands to my stomach—as it roiled in instant conflict.

Titus to the rescue.

The wonder turtle popped his head out, his sage expression communicating two messages.

Buck up, Mom.

And…
I’m hungry, bitch.

I giggled and got up to attend my wrinkled little dude—reminding myself his tank needed to be cleaned before I took off for Chicago. Two more days and I’d be with my men again.

My men.

I sighed at the beautiful resonation of it in my head. Titus looked up as if to roll his eyes at me but I gave him a little glare. “Don’t give me that. You like them; I know you do.” Another long sigh. “You think they miss me as much as I miss them?”

They said they did. Constantly. But I still had trouble wrapping my head around the fact that they were even in love with me.

Me
.

Why?

To be trite, I was the polar opposite of their type. All too easily, I pulled up a memory of my up-front-and-close encounter with a creature who
had
been. We’d been in Vegas for Cosmetics Con, and the woman had all but mounted both the guys in the Nyte’s lobby. I’d nicknamed her Janelle the Gazelle—only half-kidding about it. With legs to her neck and blonde tresses to her curvy ass, she’d been the primped-up, makeup-coated kind of thing they usually—translation,
always
—went for. I was the opposite of those women on every front. Short. Bony. From the land of ice and vodka, not the world of Barbies and beaches. What the hell did they even see in me, really? Maybe they really were just scratching an itch. A mousy, altogether average itch.

Do you trust us, Talia
?

Their demand resounded in my head as Titus bobbed up his own.
Well? Do you trust them
?

I used Drake’s words to answer him out loud. “I don’t have any choice, dude.”

Just as when Drake had uttered them, the words knelled with truth. I had no choice…because without them, I had no heart. They’d captured it completely…held its future in their huge, powerful hands. I could barely wait to be reunited with the thing. To have them hand it back to me, whole and happy beneath their kisses once more.

The next two days were going to be sheer hell.

*

Unbelievably, I’d survived.
And finally, now cleared the security checkpoint at Lindbergh Field. In so many ways, this was where it had all started with them. Fletcher had greeted me at this exact spot, whisking my luggage away, calling me Tolly for the first time…unveiling his wicked prowess at flirtation before leading the way to the private jet that would take us to Vegas—and the weekend that changed our lives.

Just like then, a butterfly bonanza romped through my gut. As unsteady as it felt, part of me hoped the feeling would never go away. It was so exciting and amazing, and even a little anxiety-inducing, to be thinking of seeing them again—though the last two days had also been a little frustrating too. Drake had gone to radio silence, which was weird even for his taciturn ways. He’d been odd the last time we actually talked, then hadn’t reached out since, except for the usual good morning and good night messages—texts instead of voice calls. Fletcher hadn’t provided much insight, explaining Drake was wrapping a huge business deal and wanted to get in the hours on it before I arrived. It made sense, and I flogged myself for being so petty about his pride in his work, but I couldn’t ignore my heart’s little bruise. I wished he’d found even a minute to check in here and there.

Yuck
. When had I gotten this needy?

When you decided to fall completely in love for the first time in your life
?

My head knew it already; the rest of me was having trouble catching up. The enormity of it…scared me. But how many times had the guys—
both
of them—admitted to the exact same thing? I had to be more confident in their feelings. To not be so insecure. For men like those two, even as smitten as they claimed to be, it had to be an awful turn off.

I followed the walkway onto the tarmac. The newest—and smallest—of the three SGC jets sat with its door open, the small staircase welcoming me on board. This was a six passenger Learjet, and I was terrified to fly in it, though no way did I share that with the guys when they’d messaged about having arranged my flight. As usual, they’d gone out of their way to take care of me. I didn’t want to come off as ungrateful.

The steward took my rolling bag, as well as the garment bag that encased my gown, and stowed them away in a small closet.

Besides a tiny patch of turbulence over Nebraska, the flight was smooth—thank God. The little plane skipped to a halt on the runway at Midway then taxied to the private terminal. From its little window, I saw a town car already waiting. Were the guys inside? I touched fingers to the window, reaching for them—

And gasped at a surprise of a different sort.

Damn. I’d forgotten how cold it could get here. Or had Southern California made me soft? If that was the case, then bring on the soft, thank you very much.

I yanked my jacket collar up around my ears before stepping out of the plane—and instantly rattling off some profanities. I didn’t miss these Chicago winters one bit.

Everything warmed, in all the best ways, when a figure emerged from the car and bounded toward the stairway. Fletcher—tall, proud, and devastatingly handsome. He was breathtaking in his black pea coat, with its collar popped tall in the back and fallen carelessly in the front. His thick hair blew across his forehead before he could slick it back, reminding me that even his hands were perfect. Long fingers, smooth skin, beautifully groomed nails.

The steward cleared his throat from where he stood behind me, crouched in the doorway of the plane. “Sorry,” I mumbled, too frozen to add a laugh—by the weather
and
my impossibly gorgeous boyfriend.

That’s my boyfriend.

Hell yes.

But where was the other one? My mood fell when I searched the car, lit from inside by the ajar back door. Drake wasn’t inside.

I was still two steps from the ground when Fletcher hauled me against him, clutching me close, whirling me around. Only after he’d ravaged my mouth for at least a minute did he set me down and finally whisper in my ear, “Hey you.” I trembled from the sexy husk of it, allowing shivers to race up and down my spine. “I missed you so much. God, you don’t even know.”

“I think I have an idea.” I leaned back to take in his beautiful blue eyes. Lake Michigan lent them its color this evening—dark blue, almost navy in the moonlight. As always, our uncanny telepathy started right up, evidenced by his dead-on interpretation of the questioning furrow between my eyes.

“Drake got held up at the office, baby. He’ll come straight home to the apartment as soon as he can.”

I dealt with the disappointment by mashing my lips again to his. I didn’t want to be sad. Enjoying this man would be my medicine.

Fletcher hummed and deepened the kiss, clearly happy to see me. “My fucking God,” he finally grated when we pulled apart. “You are more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

Though his hands framed my face, I tilted my head a little. “Guess that’s what being in love does to a girl?”

He flashed his best sinful grin. “I like that answer.”

“Good! Now can we get into the car before I catch pneumonia? And why aren’t you wearing gloves?”

He snickered. “Because it’s not
that
cold.”

“Shut up.” I whacked his shoulder in response to his deeper laugh. “I don’t know how you live in this weather.”

“Well, it’s not always like this. Also, you need a heavier coat than
this
.” He scowled at my lace-trimmed, mid-thigh coat, which had been a mid-summer steal at one of the trendy UTC boutiques. “Maybe we can hit Michigan Avenue tomorrow and find you one. Do you have something to wear with your gown?”

We hustled to the waiting limousine and slid into the back seat. “Shoot,” I said, after groaning in ecstasy from the heated leather beneath my icicle of a butt. “I hadn’t even thought of that. I’m so used to California weather now. Even when you go out at night, it’s a quick jaunt from the car to wherever, so no one ever worries about a coat. Ugh. I’m going to freeze.”

“No way.” He rubbed my hands briskly between his. How the heck had the man been out in such a muck fest, only to be a human furnace now? “Not on my watch, girlie.”

I lifted a looked filled with utter ecstasy. His touch was perfection no matter what, but the heat certainly helped his cause. “Talk like that will get you everywhere.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. We’ve got it taken care of, even if I have to call my mother to borrow something. She has a closet most women would commit murder for.” His smile quirked sideways. “What?” he probed in response to my stare, now narrowed in new curiosity.

I answered honestly. “I think that’s only the second time I’ve ever heard you talk about your family.” His shrug only emphasized my point. “Do you have a strained relationship?” When his mouth thinned, I almost apologized for the pry—but we were lovers now, in more than one sense of the word. I needed to know him better.

“No.” His reply wasn’t icy—but it didn’t gush warmth either. “Not strained.”

“Then what?”

“It’s more like…dysfunctional.”

I turned to better face him, keeping our hands intertwined. “What does that mean?”

“Well, my father is a workaholic asshole and my mother is a society snob. My sister is the spitting image of my mother…which makes me basically the black sheep.”

“Why would you say that?” I stroked his back while he leaned forward to grab a water from the bar, gratefully accepting when he held one up for me. Flying always made me dehydrated. My skin wouldn’t be the same until I landed back in San Diego.

“How was your flight? I was worried you’d freak when you saw the small jet, but it was all we could secure. Kil, Claire, Michael, and Margaux flew out two days ago for the event, and to visit the Stones out at Keystone. The finishing touches have been put on the new mansion, and they’re celebrating. I heard even Lance and his partner may be in town.”