Sated (15 page)

“Was he hot?” Arbor asked with a chuckle when the uncomfortable silence dragged on a little too long. Out of the corner of her eye, Arbor saw her shrug. However, when she spoke again, the breathless note to her voice said she’d been more than a little moved by the stranger across the room.

“I would’ve done anything for him. Still would,” Harper added, more to herself. The sentiment sounded as if it had come from deep in her heart. It made Arbor’s eyes sting. She could feel the woman’s longing. It was near to being physical in its power. “Once I had him, I would’ve gone to any length to keep him. Some addictions have no cure.” Something about her tone caused Arbor to turn her head, meeting her gaze. She knew. It was an addiction she’d recently acquired. Of course, Harper’s next words stole away every ounce of comradery. “That’s how people end up here, like this,” she added, waving toward the satanic symbols and bloody walls. “There’re so many dark entities in the world, willing to make us a deal—a bargain we can’t refuse.” She walked away, leaving Arbor staring at her retreating back—floored.

“Arbor.” Tearing her mind away from the woman’s words, Arbor met Trey’s stare as he reappeared in the doorway. “Are you okay?”

No. “Yeah. Was the bathroom empty?”

“Yeah. There’s no one here.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “You should go back to your apartment. You look exhausted.” She didn’t want to go back. It must’ve shown on her face, but Trey didn’t give her time to argue. “What happened here had nothing to do with you. You don’t have to be scared.” A sardonic smile touched his lips, fascinating her. “Plus the band is here. They’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

At the mention of the band, Arbor’s head whipped around. Sure enough, Killian and Lyric were leaning against the wall next to her apartment door, wearing matching patient expressions. She searched her mind for something to say. Taking her chin in hand, Trey forced her to hold his stare. “There’s nothing special about me, Arbor.” He smiled sadly. “All I have left to barter with is this body.” She’d heard this before. His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “I got a good deal on the rest.”

There was that term again. A pain bloomed behind her eye, nearly causing her to cry out. She saw double. Trey’s image separated into two halves. Oddly, so did the room behind him, except one half looked a bit different from the other. It was brighter—more realistic. Unblemished. The walls were a stark white without any damage. There were no evil words or satanic symbols. The sun peeked through the window.

Trey’s arms encircled her. The heat of his chest pressed against her shoulder blades.

“What are you doing?” God. She was tired. She let it happen.

His palms snuck beneath the hem of her t-shirt, flattening against her stomach. “I feel like I’m watching you starve.”

Arbor covered her face with both hands. A sob tore from her throat. It was true. Life was killing her. The gut-wrenching pain that was always lurking just beneath the surface rose up inside her, spilling over.

“Shh,” Trey soothed. “I’ve got you.” She twisted in his arms and pressed her face to his chest. With his shirt clutched in her hands, she sucked in big gulps of oxygen, attempting to calm her panic. That was when Trey struck. Snagging the back of her head until her roots stung, he brought her mouth to his. With the assault on her hair, she expected Trey’s kiss to be bruising. Instead, his lips clung to hers—reverent. With her eyes squeezed closed for a moment, she imagined she could give him everything he deserved. Her tears mixed with his. It was unfair that he was always the one who had to be strong, making the hard choices for them both.

Arbor turned away, unable to stand a second more of staring at the sunlight streaming through the window at his back. It was doing something to her mind. Nothing seemed real any longer. She couldn’t figure out if she was hallucinating or what. Killian and Lyric straightened away from their slump. She couldn’t focus. There was no oxygen in the room. The need to escape outweighed everything. Spinning away, she headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time until she hit mid-point. If anyone followed, she didn’t bother to check. She wasn’t running away, not really. She just needed air. Arbor truly believed that once she cleared the cobwebs from her brain, she’d understand why it felt as if she’d done this before. She knew these people. It wasn’t possible. Was it? She’d only been in New Orleans for…her steps slowed. When had she moved to New Orleans? For the life of her, she couldn’t recall.

She sat down on the stairs. Everything was a blur. Not only could she not remember how long she’d been there, she couldn’t remember
why
she was there. Maybe she was having a stroke? She’d heard people suffered extreme confusion when that happened. Warmth engulfed her. Arbor automatically pulled Lyric’s jacket tighter around her shoulders when it landed across them. He dropped down next to her. The solid weight of his thigh against hers kept her from flying apart—grounded her.

“You’ve been inside my apartment.” It was an asinine comment. The jacket had been hanging on the back of her chair. The only way he could have it was to go inside. It was not as if he didn’t know where he’d gotten it. The words had simply fallen from her lips in her surprise.

“You needed a jacket,” he said, obviously unapologetic. “The air is cool, and it’s my job to keep you well.” His hand landed on her thigh, palm up. Arbor didn’t hesitate to accept. When her fingers linked with his, Lyric leaned his shoulder into hers. They sat in silence for what felt like hours. Logically, Arbor knew it was closer to minutes, but in light of the situation, she thought she was entitled to be dramatic. His thumb brushed hers. His rough skin reminded her of something. At the sensation of the callus stroking her skin, the memory simply slammed into her. At first, it was an image of Lyric on stage.

Bright lights haloed behind him, making him appear angelic with his head bent, watching his hands move over the guitar. His chin lifted, moving toward the microphone, and his gaze automatically sought hers. A wicked smile twisted his lips. The crowd went nuts. She couldn’t even hear a word he sang. The scene changed. Killian’s hard, nude body pressed against her back. His fingers stroked her bare hip. The flickering of a few candles on the nightstand was the only light in the room. Lyric sat in a chair at the edge of the bed, guitar on one knee. His bare chest held her captivated as he played a song he’d written just for her. With his feet kicked up on the bed and his muscles flexing in time with the movement of his hands, Arbor was captivated. Even Lyric’s bare toes were sexy as hell. The moment the instrument fell silent and the last note left his lips, Lyric set the guitar aside. Crawling onto the bed, he held his wrist up against hers and Killian joined in. It was something they did all the time. Some couples touched wedding bands. This was the only marriage ceremony they’d ever have, but to them, it felt the same. They loved each other.

She blinked at the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. Surely it had always been there, but it was like she’d forgotten it was there or had become blind to its presence. Reaching over, she peeled one of the many bands away from Lyric’s arm. A musical note stared up at her. Killian appeared at her other side, sitting down. He set his wrist over theirs.

“You both used to play for me at night. I still hear you singing every time I close my eyes.” At her words, Lyric touched his forehead to her temple and Killian wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Oh, Arbor,” Lyric breathed. “I love that you remembered that first.”

“Am I losing my mind?”

Killian was the first to answer. “No, baby. You’re not.”

Even though his soft assurance meant more than an official diagnosis from the world’s leading specialist, Arbor still burst into tears. They were great, gut-wrenching sobs. She was completely incapable of stopping. The pain came from somewhere deep in her soul. She knew them. The men both pressed their foreheads to either side of her temple as she cried. Arbor reached up, touching their cheeks, and holding them in place. It was an ugly cry. She didn’t give a shit.

“Your heart knew us,” Lyric said quietly. “Even if your eyes didn’t.”

“You died. Oh my God. You both died, and I wasn’t strong enough to handle it. I couldn’t do it. Please don’t hate me. I tried, but I’m too weak.”

Killian’s grip tightened on her waist. “Do you believe we love you?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “I know you do.”

“Then you should know there is nothing you could do to make us hate you.”

A hint of panic ran through her. What if it was a dream? What if they disappeared? It was too cruel. Her heart raced. She was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Trey. Oh God. Trey.” She started to push to her feet before Trey’s hand landed on her shoulder and pushed her back down. Arbor knew it was him without having to look. Each of them were distinct in their own way, and she knew the three men possibly better than she knew herself.

Shoving his way past Killian, Trey moved two steps lower and went down on his knees, getting on her level and holding her gaze. Dear lord. His eyes. They were devastated. For a moment, fear choked her. He saw it. She knew he did because his eyes filled with tears. Through it all, he’d never shown any real vulnerability, until now. It tore at her heart. She covered her mouth with both hands, doing her best to contain the sobs ripping at her throat.

“God forgive me, Arbor.” Leaning forward, he set his forehead against the center of her chest. “I didn’t know how else to give them back to you. I tried so hard to fill the hole they left behind. The space was too big. It was killing me, watching you die.”

She clutched his head, trying to hold him tighter. It wasn’t enough. Burying her fingers in his hair, she tugged, forcing him to meet her gaze. She knew she looked a mess, but it was hardly the worst he’d ever seen her. The memory of the last night they spent together raged through her mind. His crazed looked. Her fear. Their death. Love is the harshest form of insanity. Even though she’d been mostly dead without Killian and Lyric, it hadn’t stopped the slice of her—that was clinging to life—from falling in love with this man. Possibly, he’d loved them both enough to sustain them through the final months of her life. It didn’t matter now. She still loved him…this man who’d killed her.

“You deserved much better than me,” she said, never meaning anything more.

“There’s no such thing.”

He tried to smile for her. It was the final straw. The one that broke her. “I love you
so
much.” In her head, the words sounded like a ferocious roar. Leaving her lips, they were a harsh whisper. She tugged his mouth to hers, kissing him deeply, and doing her best to make him feel all the emotion locked inside her. It had always been there. The air turned humid. Trey’s mouth moved to her throat. Her eyes opened to a view of the river. The sun shone brighter than it ever did in life as it gleamed off the water. The apartment building was gone, now that Arbor saw everything for the dream it had been. Perhaps it had merely been a holding area until she chose her path. Death was a mystery. Nonetheless, her soul had gone where it belonged—to the men who owned the other pieces.

“Trey.”

At Killian’s growl, Trey chuckled against her skin. “Yep.” With a final brush of his lips across the column of her neck, he finally lifted his chin. “I’m not getting out.”

Killian didn’t look amused. “What’s your first priority?”

Turning his head, Trey held her stare as he answered. “Protect Arbor.”

“And if the worst should happen?” At Lyric’s question, Arbor tightened her grip on Trey. He didn’t as much as flinch. His voice didn’t waver.

“Bring her to you so you can take care of her.”

Killian smiled. “Welcome home, guys.”

“Some will say they knew a girl such as me would come to a bad end. They’re right. I did. Of course, those people will never understand. I belong to these men. Heart, body, and soul. I am now sated.”—Oct 16
th
.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Charity Parkerson is an award winning and multi-published author with Ellora's Cave Publishing, Indie Publishing House LLC, and Punk & Sissy Publications. Born with no filter from her brain to her mouth, she decided to take this odd quirk and insert it in her characters.

*Winner of 2, 2014 Readers' Favorite Awards

*2014 Golden Ankh Nominee

*2013 Readers' Favorite Award Winner

*2013 Reviewers' Choice Award Winner

*2012 ARRA Finalist for Favorite Paranormal Romance

*Five-time winner of The Mistress of the Darkpath