Trinity (12 page)

“They won’t schedule it until they hear from you. In case you want to see him one final time,” she informs me clinically.

“Okay, yes, thank you.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Ms. Reeves.”

Me too.
“Thank you.” I compulsively wipe my leaking eyes.

“Ms. Summers?”

“Yes, Ms. Reeves?”

“Did he go peacefully?”

“In his sleep.”

I sag with relief. The thought of Pops suffering any more than he had to . . . I just couldn’t bear it.

“Thank you, again.” I hang up and weakly slide down my kitchen cabinet to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. The pain, the loss, the sense of abandonment quickly destroys me. I bawl right there on the cold vinyl. Naked, alone, and inconsolable. For a prolonged moment, I feel like I’m twelve years old again and a neglected, forlorn child.

That same child Pops scooped up and molded into a woman.

I don’t know how long I lie there, but when I can finally move, I numbly get dressed, wanting to go to the only place that will bring me solace. A late September breeze ruffles my wet hair, sending a frigid chill through my whole body. The entire world looks bleak, colorless, as I walk the three block trail to the Corkscrew. A trek I’ve made thousands of times. A trek that will never be the same after today.

As I come to the front door, I pull the keys from my pocket before I notice something strange.

Chains?

I tug on the thick lock with a fresh swell of tears swimming in my eyes. It jingles securely as I yank. What the fuck is going on? Through my wet, blurry vision, I notice the sign posted above my head.

CONDEMNED by order of the town of Newhaven Beach.

I lose it. Screaming bloody murder at the flat, inanimate piece of paper.

In a fit of rage, I race home, knowing exactly where I have to go. I drive to Ty Winters satellite office in a blur. That piece of shit is definitely behind this.

I slam on the brakes, the tires screeching, as I pull up to the glass building. Storming to the front door, I wrench the handle and nearly rip my arm out of my socket. I scream and bang on the glass, demanding to see him. I continue for what feels like hours until I’m too tired to raise my arms, and I have no breath left to bellow.

It’s Sunday. No one’s there. My logical, rational side realizes that. But the part of me that’s dying wants to hurl rocks through every single window. Wants to smash and shatter the whole building so Ty fucking Winters knows exactly what it feels like to lose something important to him.

“I hate you!” I erupt. “I hate you, you son of a bitch, and every goddamn thing you stand for!” I pound my fists on the smoky glass until they hurt. Until I have nothing left inside.

I slink down to the ground defeated. I lost.

Everything.

A new shot of anger suddenly skyrockets inside me.

Did they know? Was that the plan all along? Distract me with sweet words and touches and promises as their boss steals my whole life right out from under me?

Another fit has me running. Driving like a maniac several blocks down to a place I left happy from this morning.

I careen up the front stairs and barrel through the door. Before I can blow my stack, I come face to face with the devil himself. Ty Winters standing casually in Chase and Shane’s living room. Smug in Khaki pants, a polo shirt, and tousled copper hair. In an act of blind fury, I launch myself at him.

“Son of a bitch!” My fist connects with his chest as Shane and Chase attempt to subdue me.

Hot tears start again. Buckets this time as I throw verbal daggers at Ty.

“You piece of shit! What did you do?” I scream, flailing like hell to climb out of their hold.

“Jenn, calm down!” Chase hooks his arms around my waist as Shane stands directly in front of me. He traps my face, forcing me to look him dead in the eyes.

“Did you know?
Did you fucking know?”
I demand, my cheeks on fire and soaked with tears. His fingers slipping from the moisture.

“They didn’t know,” Ty speaks. “Not until today. I had a courier send the paperwork over for the sale this morning.”

“Sale? What sale? I never authorized a sale!” I swipe at him.

“You didn’t have to. I paid off the liens on the restaurant. It became mine. I tried to warn you, Ms. Reeves. I made you a very generous offer,” he reminds me callously. A pillar of indifference. “You forced my hand.” I stare blankly at the coldest man on the planet. Winters suits him perfectly because his heart is made of pure fucking ice. “Pride is an ugly thing.”

“Ty, don’t be a prick,” Shane snaps.

“You would know,” I mimic Ty’s callous tone. “You really are the devil,” I hiss.

He doesn’t indulge me with a response, which only makes me angrier.

“Let go!” I twist myself free from Shane and Chase’s grasp and stumble forward as they release me.

“Jenn,” Shane voices my name sternly, fearfully, as I backpedal to the door.

“Stay away from me. Both of you. All of you.” I shoot laser beams at Ty. “I can’t stand to look at any of you.”

I burst out the front door before any of them can stop me. I’m going to be sick. I catch Shane and Chase making a mad dash after me, but I’m already in my car speeding away before their feet hit the pavement.

I’VE STARED AT POPS’ SMALL URN
for the last three weeks. It still hasn’t sunk in that he’s gone. It hasn’t sunk in that I can’t escape to the one place that’s ever felt like home. It hasn’t sunk in that I have nothing and am entirely alone.

No tears.
Yeah right, Pops.
It seems crying is the only thing I’m capable of. I’ve lost all direction, lost who I am, because that old man and that weathered restaurant were everything that defined me.

My phone lights up for the umpteenth time. I’ve avoided every call and every text message from every single person I know. I don’t want to hear it. The sympathy, the condolences, the pity in their voices.
Poor Jennifer, what is she going to do now?

No thanks. I would rather hide and deal with my loss alone. It’s easier to wallow when no one is constantly trying to console you. The pain is more potent when you can drown in it all on your own. Call me a masochist, but it’s all I have left to hold on to, the sadness.

At half past eleven, I drag myself off the couch, pull on a hooded sweatshirt, and walk outside into the cold, drizzly October morning. I walk solemnly down the sandy sidewalk, my face dewy from the chilly mist.

I stop short once I get to my destination. Fifty feet away from the place I once considered home. The little life the old restaurant had left is gone. The desertion was its undoing. It looks depressed and ragged under the dreary gray sky. As aged as the building is, it never came across as rickety as it does now.

I wince when I hear the excavator’s thunderous movement. Frozen solid and completely powerless, I watch as the steel arm swings around and dangles the clawed shovel over the structure. The rain starts to fall heavier as the hydraulics of the machine hiss air and grind gears at a disturbing sound level. My heart drowns in my chest with the first punch of the claw through the slanted roof. It crumbles like hard candy. Punch after punch after punch, the machine demolishes the dark shingles until they’re gone. And punch after punch after punch, I cry a little harder and die another death.

I knew coming would kill me, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was obsessed. I had to see it with my own eyes. Witness it fall. And fall it does as the excavator tears apart every last piece, until there’s nothing left of me or the building. Pulling my hood tighter over my head to shield my face from the elements, I hash out all the emotions battling inside as I stand at a crossroad. So much hate, so much rage, and equal amounts sorrow and regret.

What now?

What the fuck do I do now?

A black shadow over my head startles me. No, not a shadow, an enormous umbrella. The rain stops pelting down on me as Shane and Chase encase my body.

I haven’t spoken to either of them in weeks. And it wasn’t for their lack of trying either. I was just too hurt, too upset. My trust in them deteriorated, even if it was unwarranted. Even if they didn’t know what Ty was conspiring until it was too late. Guilty by association is the category I placed them in.

“We thought you might come,” Shane hums consolingly.

“Oh, yeah?” I retort bitterly.

“Yeah, and we thought you could use a friend,” Chase adds soothingly.

“Is that what the two of you are?
Friends?”

“At this moment, yes, but you know we’ll always want more.” Shane doesn’t hold back.

I lift only my eyes to look at them. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“Then say it.” I push for no other reason than to add to my emotional turmoil.

“Because we love you, and you know it. You’ve always known it. And we want you to come home.”

“I don’t have a home. I don’t have anything.” My lip quivers.

“That’s not true. You have us. We can help you through it. Don’t turn us away.”

My pride doesn’t want to give in. They still work for the man who destroyed my life and took everything from me.

But my loneliness, my despair, is screaming at me to collapse into their arms and fall apart. Allow them to help me to heal.

“C’mon, Jenn, you know this is right. You know we’re meant to be together.” Shane sidles up next to me. The heat of his body inviting me back to that safe, secure place. “I know it’s hard. You feel lost and betrayed, but we would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.
We know you know that.
And we know you know our feelings are real.”

“I do know it,” I reluctantly admit, hiding my face in my hood. “But that doesn’t make the situation any easier.”

“Maybe not, but it makes it worth fighting for. And you’re a fighter.” Shane lifts my chin. “And strong and loyal and determined. We need a woman like that to love us.”

God, do they know what to say and how to say it.

“I don’t feel very strong at the moment.” My voice is small.

Shane scans over my weathered expression warmly. “The good thing about moments like these? They pass. Come home. Let us love you.”

Home and love
. There are two words I never thought I’d hear in the same sentence.

“You have so much more than you think. You just have to accept it,” Chase amends.

“When all you know is strife and struggle, accepting love is a difficult thing . . .” They both frown, believing they’re making no headway. “ . . . But I think maybe when you lose everything,” I concede, “accepting the love that’s offered is the only way to start new.” I curl my lips into a small, surrendering smile. Shane and Chase mirror my expression, magnifying it tenfold.

I take one last, lingering look at the Corkscrew’s rubble before they lead me away.

Every end has a new beginning, right?

It seems so.

With the two of them directing me, I slip into the backseat of their black BMW, my wet clothes dampening the soft tan leather. Chase slides into the driver’s seat as Shane claims the passenger side. I don’t say a word as we drive off. I’m a barrel of emotions that just took a trip down Niagara Falls.

It’s quiet in the car until Shane turns to look at me. “Last night was the last time you don’t sleep in our bed.” His hazel eyes are as serious as his tone.

I don’t respond as my desire for love and my resentment toward the world clash.

“Jenn,” Chase says my name strictly, glancing back at me through the rearview mirror.

“Okay,” I slingshot back. “Okay.” My voice softens.

They both seem appeased as we make our way to the north side of town.

Once inside, they make no qualms of stripping me out of my wet clothes and placing me in a steaming shower. I don’t know what my chilly skin responds to more, the hot spray or the hot hands wandering over my naked body. I close my eyes and let them do as they please. Touch me as they please. Pushed up against the shower wall, they re-stake their claim, taking full advantage of my susceptibility, needling their way back into that sacred place of ours.
Our trinity
.

Two covetous mouths sweep over my curves, slowly bringing me back to life.

I run my fingers through their hair as their tongues slither over me like serpents. A gasp escapes my throat as one latches onto my nipple and the other my clit, lavishing both pieces of needy flesh at the same time. The dual stimulation of pleasure causes me to twitch. To feel. To breathe in God knows how long. I fucking missed them. Missed everything we had.

“Make me come. God, please, please make me come.” I grind my pussy against Shane’s face as I push my straining nipple into Chase’s mouth. They moan in tandem at my plea and my actions, Shane sinking two fingers into my flooding entrance.

“We’ll make you come all night,” Chase promises, pulling and stretching my swollen breast with a firm grip of his teeth.

He traps my hands over my head, restraining me as he continues to sweep and pinch and scrape my nipples until they’re aching little points aimed straight at him. Sensing my emotional confinement, Shane spreads my legs, burying his face in my pussy, mimicking the movement of Chase’s mouth; a relentless swirl of his tongue, graze of his teeth, and penetration of his fingers has me struggling against the wall, has me begging.