Page 66 of Serpentine
TWENTY
AELLA
As I turn to Miles, the others slink away. I look toward the fire pit, where Sully set boxes and branches ablaze. He’d known after Braxton had taken off it would be necessary.
There’s a stinging in my chest that I’m trying to ignore because he and I aren’t doing anything, right? Like, sure, I wear their brand. But it means I’m a part of the club, not with them only.
He opens his mouth to explain.
I lift my hand. “It’s fine. We’re not really… I mean, I thought we were… You’re free to be who you are, of course.”
His smile is warm and welcome. “Aella, no. It’s not what you think.”
He’s mirroring words I only just said to him. However, I was tied to a spanking bench.
The idea of him nude and strapped down isn’t out of the question, but I shake free from the thought.
“But I mean, you have a girlfriend,” I squeak, and I hate how much emotion there is in my tone. It makes me feel even more vulnerable than the moment I watched Charlotte riding Carter’s dick.
I know it’s because I care about Miles more than I ever could have cared for Carter.
“I do not have a girlfriend. Braxton has a wicked tongue when angry; he knew it would bother you. He’ll regret it later; you mark my words.”
I sigh, letting go of a breath I’d held until he confessed.
“I fucked her, yes, but it was before you and I were a thing. I consider us a thing, Aella. The three of us, we’re something. Neither Braxton nor I would ever go behind your back. Loyalty means too much to us. Just as you’re all ours, we’re yours.”
Tension unwinds inside me. “What are we going to do about the Jackals?”
He tugs me into him, wrapping his arms around me. I close my eyes and melt into him. Part of me wonders if I’m being that girl. The one who gives in to her man too quickly after a fight. The rest of me doesn’t care if I am. He feels like home just as much as Braxton does.
They’re becoming my center.
“We won’t do a thing. I will,” he says, and the statement rumbles through my ear as one presses against his hard chest.
The scent of leather lingers on both brothers, but he always has a tinge of fresh laundry and cedar mixed within it. It wafts up my nose as I breathe him in.
“I’m going to go check on Brax,” I tell him.
He grabs my hand as I push away, spinning me back towards him. “Be careful, and text me if he’s bad, okay? That bike is something he built with his own hands, a fixation of his for years. He won’t take it easy. On second thought, stay up here for a while. Let him have a bit.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m going to see him. He needs me.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Text me and let me know how he is, okay? Seeing me will only worsen it for him, but I’ll help you if he needs it.”
I nod, not fully understanding his words until I reach the basement.
I stand at the bottom of the stairs, shocked.
Beneath the glow of red lights, Braxton is in the middle of the floor. He’s got a blanket surrounding him, even covering his head. The speakers blast white noise around the room, and he’s rocking back and forth.
I take a moment to read the space. To think of what to do next.
I might have sent him further over the edge by touching him when he was already feeling too overwhelmed.
I pull my phone out and click it into silent mode.
He’s not good. He’s on the floor, rocking back and forth.