Destined to Dream, page 12
My heart plummets to the pit of my stomach like a lead weight. “I keep making things worse.”
“We’ve established that, yeah.” Becks gets to his feet, emerald eyes full of sympathy as he claps me on the back. “You’re trying so hard to protect her from yourself. You’re not some terrible burden like you seem to think, Kase. Quit being noble for once in your life and accept that it’s not only okay to want something, but to let yourself take it.”
Swallowing, I nod shallowly, not really feeling it, but getting his point. “Come with me?”
His eyes widen a bit in surprise, but he hides it quickly, tucking his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Need someone to drag your charred carcass out of the hallway when the mage is done with ‘ya?”
Scooping my phone off of the floor, I head out into the living room to grab my shoes, grumbling, “Need a damn teleprompter.”
Chuckling, he slips his shoes on. “I think she’d notice if I was flashing you notecards, but I can jab you in the ribs if you say something stupid if it makes you feel better.”
Huffing, I lead the way down several flights of stairs and out to my car, waiting until we’re on the road before speaking again. “Full disclosure, Malcolm’s going to be pissed that I’m bringing you. And security might have orders to throw me out on my ass before we take two steps in the building.”
Beck simply hums, strumming his fingers on the dashboard like drumsticks, happy to have a front row seat to watch my life explode. “I thought you said that was your fated mate up there? Are you really going to let a couple of assholes stand in your way while she’s up there crying?”
Flinching, his words hit their mark, but add to my resolve like I’m sure was what he was aiming for. “No. Even if it’s only to apologize, I’m seeing her before she pushes me out of the nearest window.”
“You should bring her something,” he suggests, rooting around in the glove box.
Pulling to a stop at a red light, I glance at him from the corner of my eye. “What do you think I brought you for, genius?”
That finally gets a reaction and he turns to me with suspicion. “You literally said moral support, you lying son of a bitch. You’re going to throw me to the wolves to buy yourself time to get up there, aren’t you?”
The light turns green and I face the road again, letting him stew until I merge lanes and hit the next intersection. “Flowers aren’t going to cut it. If I want to salvage this mess, I need to prove that I’m all in. Committed.”
He subtly puts his hand on the door handle like he’s preparing to tuck and roll. “Little big to pass me off as a puppy.”
Snorting a laugh, I pull into the parking garage. “She wanted to meet you, prove that I didn’t have to keep my life outside of work separate from them.” Pulling into a space, I shut off the car, sighing. “She wanted me to be comfortable enough to feel at home there, that my friends were welcome and I didn’t have to sacrifice anything for her sake.”
Beckett’s quiet for a minute. “She wanted to take away your reasons for keeping your distance so that you’d want to stay.”
Throat bobbing with my next swallow, I get out of the car without a word. Rounding to the entrance though, we pull to an abrupt stop at the sight of the crowd outside of the door. Jack and Leo are standing just inside the locked glass doors, arms crossed and blocking the view of the lobby as best as they can. Focusing on the small mob, I spot the news camera quickly, blanching as I pick the reporter’s voice out of the chaotic din.
“-adies lament, as Coria Bay’s most eligible bachelor is apparently off the market. Billionaire philanthropist Malcolm Drake of Drake Enterprises is officially married. But why the cloak and dagger wedding? What should have been the event of the season was met with only silence, so those of us at CBN have to ask; what is Malcolm Drake trying to hide? A wild night gone awry? A mate with a past he’s attempting to keep from the press?”
Her voice fades to a dull ringing in my ears as I watch her lift a photograph of Scarlett walking between me and Malcolm on our way to the beach the other day, a few steps away from the car.
Thank fuck Malcolm was right. In that lighting, her eyes look solid red; they’ll assume she’s a shifter. They can find her name on public record, but the fake identity should hold up. Malcolm went all out on that expense; school transcripts, tax returns back dated.
“Kase,” Beck hisses, jabbing an elbow in my side and gesturing to Jack behind the door.
As soon as I meet his eye, he tilts his head, and I push my way through the crowd. Beck capitalizes on the path I bulldoze to walk behind me, the two of us ignoring the reporters turning on us like vultures once they recognize I’m the other guy in the picture.
Jack cracks the door open and I shove Beck through first since my frame blocks the gap better than anything. Leo shoves a few hands out of the way to slam the door closed, promptly locking it again. The two of them turn their backs on the doors, giving the gossip mongers the cold shoulder while obscuring their view. Now that we’re in, Jack slaps the hidden button on the top of the door frame, a thick sheet of metal descending to the floor where Leo sets the lock.
“Why didn’t you do that before?” I demand, pulling rank that I don’t have anymore as worry manifests itself as a hostile bark. “Are the other entrances secure?”
Jack lifts his chin defiantly, but the intimidation factor falls flat since he’s at least a foot shorter than me. “Because we were told to keep this one open in case you decided to show up.”
Tongue in cheek, I ask, “Why didn’t anyone call me then?”
He and Leo share a look, the latter tentatively saying, “Mind you these are the boss’ words, not mine, okay? We were ordered to, and I quote, ‘Send all non-essential staff home until further notice and leave one entrance accessible in case a certain dumbass decides to actually show up to work this week. But I don’t want anyone here that doesn’t want to be’.”
Beck covers his startled laugh with an exaggerated cough and I turn my back on all three of them without another word, storming across the lobby to the elevator. Beck jogs to catch up and makes it in right before the doors close. When it reaches the fiftieth floor, we have to cross to the other side of the building for the other elevator that leads to the top floors that are under restricted access. Withdrawing my badge from my wallet, I tap it against the sensor that takes the place of arrow buttons beside it. The green light has my eyes closing in relief the same moment the doors open.
He didn’t terminate my access even though he had every reason to.
Leo may have said that Malcolm was expecting me to show up at some point, but that very well could have been to chew me out without him having to leave the building before tossing me on my ass.
The final four floors pass by in a blink before we exit, crossing the empty office floor to the steel door that leads to the hallway containing access to the penthouse. Another green light and click as the lock disengages when I tap my card against the sensor, and I use the excuse of tucking it back in my wallet to conceal my jitters, though I’m sure my thundering heartbeat is a massive red flag to Garrett and Bishop on the other side of the door.
Both men are situated on either side of the penthouse elevator, leaning against the wall and eyeing me curiously as we approach. I tip my head in greeting and Bishop’s eyebrow bounces up to his blonde mop of hair. “Didn’t think I’d need to remind you of all people that penthouse access is limited to three individuals, Hendrix.”
I’m pretty damn sure I could handle them both on my own, so with Beck, it’s a sure thing. But they’re just doing their job and I can’t fault them for it, especially when they’re doing what I should be; protecting Scarlett.
Son of a bitch.
Swallowing my pride, I reach over and take Beckett’s hand, tightening my grip to keep him trapped when he attempts to yank free. “It’s a sex thing. You’re free to check in with Malcolm if you want to deal with calling him out, but you know I’m not about to do anything to put my... position at risk,” I choke out.
They share a look before Bishop breaks into a broad grin, whoops, and smacks Garrett’s chest with the back of his hand. “Pay up, motherfucker!”
Groaning, Garrett withdraws a hundred dollar bill from his wallet, shaking his head at me. “You couldn’t have tipped me off, man? Thought we were friends.”
Beckett grins at the pair of guards and struggles not to burst into hysterical laughter. “Which one were you taking bets on, Malcolm or Kasen?”
“Kasen,” they reply in tandem without hesitation and he finally loses it, howling with laughter at my expense.
I shake my hand to try and dislodge him, but he’s latched on like a barnacle. Scowling, I use my other to withdraw my elevator key, striding past them before things can go sideways, ignoring their thumbs up and enthusiastic support to ‘get some’.
As soon as the elevator doors shut, I stomp on Beck’s foot to get him to let go. It barely even fazes him, though he does tuck his hands back in his pockets, his obnoxious laughter echoing around the metal box. Needing the time to gather my thoughts, I try to tune him out, but there’s just white noise and low key panic waiting for me in my head.
“Stop trying to plan it out,” he says, a smirk still on his face. “Just look at her and blurt out the first thing that pops into your head.”
The doors open without anyone waiting for us, and I extend my awareness to search for her, finding the two of them in her room. Swallowing, I know that she’ll notice me soon if she hasn’t already. Dragging Beck out of the elevator, I make us wait right inside the penthouse, feeling like a couple of intruders instead of in any way welcome. Scarlett appears in her doorway a few seconds later wearing one of my t-shirts as a dress, lips pressed into a thin line. My fingers twitch, desperately wanting to reach for her, to drag her against me, but I clench my hand into a fist instead.
“What are you doing here?” she demands, words succinct and cutting right to the heart of the matter.
“I’m so sorry, Scar. I swear to the gods, the only reason I ran is because my control was shredding and I didn’t want to take advantage of you like that.”
Malcolm appears behind her, placing a hand on her hip, and she leans against him in support. His glare is stony, but he doesn’t interrupt either, simply being there for her in whatever capacity she needs depending on how this goes. Still, my nostrils flare from the electric charge in the air, his magic not as rational as its wielder and rising with his suppressed agitation.
Her voice is quiet as she asks, “You’d really rather throw yourself off of a cliff than fuck me? You sure didn’t object to any of Malcolm’s suggestions, so excuse the hell out of me if I’m struggling to get a read on what you actually want, here, Kasen.”
Her gaze is unyielding as she pins me in place, eyes swirling with a myriad of emotions that I can’t discern. It doesn’t matter that she’s upset or confused, that she has no desire to hurt another soul so long as she lives. She still doesn’t back down, her strength the quiet sort that any alpha would envy for its subtle influence.
“You’ve got to understand, sweetheart, I’m not talking about sex. I almost bit you.”
She cocks her head, she crosses her arms over her chest. “I think you underestimate the sort of stuff I’m into. If that’s all you’re worried about, it could’ve been resolved in two seconds by simply asking. Yeah, I should have started a conversation when you two were acting weird, but I figured that meant you weren’t ready to talk about it and was trying to give us all time to get our heads on strai-”
“If I bit you, you’d be mine!” With a low growl, I tear my hand through my hair, chest heaving. “The mark wouldn’t heal because you’re my-”
Silent up until now, Beckett interrupts with a tone of awe. “Mate.”
Chapter 17
Scarlett
The room explodes, the guys talking over each other and growing louder until I’m forced to cover my ears, bending over and drawing shallow breaths so that I don’t get overwhelmed by the sweet scents surrounding m-
The stranger on the beach smelled barely better than a blood bag from the fridge. Malcolm’s tastes sweet; intoxicating, the same way Kasen’s is. Son of a bitch, I’m an idiot. It was only because he had me so worked up and desperate that I nearly attacked that stranger, not because I can’t control myself around the scent of blood. I can’t control myself around their blood.
I’m not a monster, I’m just a thirsty bitch.
“Will you all shut the hell up!?”
Immediately, everything goes so completely silent that my ears pop at the abrupt change, but I still sigh in relief. When I open my eyes, a faint shimmering distorts my vision, like looking through the heat above a fire. A brush of concern from Malcolm assures me I’m not alone beneath his shield, and I give him a small, appreciative smile before he turns back to continue his shouting match.
While I remained frozen in the doorway to my room, he rounded the couch to get in Kasen and the other guy’s faces. I can see their lips move as they argue amongst one another, but blessedly, I can’t hear a word of it, safe beneath the shield Malcolm conjured to give me a chance to catch my breath.
Their scents are muted, but still trickle through the barrier, grounding me so that I don’t feel cut off from the world completely. I take a minute to dissect them; Malcolm’s cologne, Kasen’s rain and woodsmoke, and the stranger’s sawdust and whiskey. All of them have the exact same undercurrent of sweetness from their blood, and I shut my eyes to block out everything else, processing the latest bombshell.
I’m a fucking idiot. Kasen isn’t Malcolm’s mate, he’s mine. They both damn well knew it, too, and went along with my assumption instead of correcting me.
It’d be sweet if I wasn’t ready to bang my head against the wall. After the way I reacted to Malcolm, it’s no surprise that they thought I wouldn’t handle the revelation of a second mate well. They grew up knowing things like this were a possibility, banding together and forming units as more and more humans balked at the shift in power. They evolved to take the place of the predators that humans hunted to extinction, knowing full well there could be a repeat performance and adapting for a better chance of survival this time around.
And I spent a lifetime envying them for creating their own families and being happy. Humans are bound and determined to be miserable, letting one another dictate how we live our lives and knocking each other down. Now I don’t fit into either category, an abomination to society, and there are two- three - men standing here getting bent out of shape over me.
I used to balk at the concept of fated mates, but that was before I started to come around to the idea that loving me isn’t a burden they were being forced to bear by some higher power. I’m not a punishment for something they did wrong, just like they aren’t a reward for enduring everything that I went through.
Nearing thirty with a shitty track record for relationships tends to give your self-worth a hit, but it makes sense now. No one I dated was ever going to be a good fit because something better was waiting for me on the other side of that dark, bloody alley.
I may have been dragged into their world kicking and screaming, but the only thing I miss about my old life was how much easier it was to be human. Easier; not better.
“Okay.” Nodding to myself absentmindedly, I wring the hem of Kasen’s shirt in my hands, wrangling my scattered thoughts and trying to be an adult about things rather than scream into the void. “Okay.”
The shield falls away and I blush as I realize I was babbling to myself, but I think I’ve earned a pass or two in the grand scheme of things. Pushing aside my feelings as much as I’m able to in a bid to face things as rationally as possible, I wipe my sweaty palms on my wrinkled shirt. At least one of us needs to have a clear head to push things in a productive direction, and since the three of them are still bickering, I need to get my shit together.
“Let’s back this up for a second.”
All conversation comes to a screeching halt with my words as three faces turn in my direction. Looking directly at the stranger with the shaggy mop of dark hair that matches his five o’clock shadow and a mischievous glint in his green eyes, I mentally punch my vagina to get her priorities straight.
“Who the heck are you?”
With a lazy smile that makes my heart skip a beat, he tips his head in the mockery of a partial bow. “Beckett Crawford, but you can call me whatever you like, gorgeous.”
Need to be careful with this one. Where the others go out of their way to assure me they’re safe, this one screams trouble and poor decisions.
“Scarlett Anderson.”
He beams with the declaration, and I falter momentarily at his enthusiasm, reminding myself that we were raised very differently. He soaks up my name like it’s a gift, gaze roving over me like he’s memorizing my features. It’s a far cry from the men that only learned it long enough to grunt it with their release before moving onto the next thing that caught their eye, and still a hell of an adjustment for me to be the center of so much genuine attention. Beckett looks at me like there’s no one else in the world worth seeing and it makes me feel as trapped beneath a microscope as I do with Malcolm.
My uncomfortable squirming ceases as I turn my attention to Kasen, his presence dosing me in ice water. “What did I do to make you think you had to lie to me?”
He’s before me in an instant, cupping my cheek with a stricken expression. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s not it at all. I just,” he trails off, looking distraught.
