Rebel Soul

I scoff. “That’s not what happened.”

AJ raises a brow at me. “Then what happened?”

“I…she…we’re working on it.”

AJ flashes an icy glare my way. “See that you do. My girl, she’s hardheaded and prideful, but has the biggest heart and the softest soul. She’d sooner drown than ask for help. So, I’m asking for her. Please?”

All of the breath in my lungs whooshes out of me. The guilt, man. “Already on it. Promise.”

She and my cousin exchange a look. “Good. I’m gonna go check on her; she’s been back there a while.”

Brock keeps his eyes on his wife’s ass as she heads down the hall. The minute she’s out of sight, I mime cracking a whip. “Whip-pih-cha!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he mutters, checking the time on his smartwatch. “You’ll be there one day.”

“Nah.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Brock smirks. “Who knows, maybe you’ll find a baby mama with a heart of gold?”

I shoot him a scathing look. “I don’t see how you don’t have some archaic hoop to jump through.”

Brock shrugs. “I told them to fuck right off. There’s nothing they could offer me that could make me say otherwise, either. Plus, they already know I don’t give a fuck; proved as much when everything went down with Abby Jane. I haven’t even talked to my dad, or anyone else from that side of the family other than you, since the engagement party from hell. Swear to God, it’s like our entire family is made up of psychopaths—aside from Mimi Jean, God rest her soul. But y’all were closer than she and I ever were.”

“Must be nice.” I roll my eyes, feeling every bit as petulant as I’m acting.

“You better believe it.” He cracks his neck and shakes out his shoulders. “I gotta hit the shower—I have a client at the driving range in an hour.”

“Sweet. I’ll see myself out.”

Brock heads back to his bedroom, and I start gathering up the mess from our breakfast. I may be a rich, entitled asshole, but no one will ever say I’m a less than stellar guest.

Once the dishes are loaded into the dishwasher and the coffeepot is rinsed, I throw on yesterday’s shirt and set off down the hall to let Abby Jane and Stacia know I’m heading out. As I approach the partially opened door, the sound of soft whimpering meets my ears. Fuck. Female tears are basically my Achilles heel.

I knock my knuckles against the door, pushing it open. The sight that meets me hits me like a roundhouse to the throat—Stacia is bawling her eyes out as Abby Jane cradles her, stroking her hand up and down her back and whispering words of comfort.

For some reason, seeing Stacia so visibly upset has my inner-caveman firing on all cylinders. My body aches to pull her close. My heart feels as if little fissures are running through it with each sniffle. My brain is practically shouting for me to go to her. I can’t explain the how or the why of it, but in this moment, she’s all I can see. Her pain is so all-encompassing it is blanketing everything in the room.

Unable to help myself, I move toward the pair, lowering myself to the edge of the bed. “You okay?” I ask and instantly want to kick my own ass. Of course she’s not okay—hence the motherfucking tears.

Stacia rolls her head to look at me, her gorgeous brown eyes ringed red and wet from crying. “No.” That’s all she says—that one single, solitary word—and my heart breaks for her. In the years I’ve known Stacia Kellan, not once have I ever seen her cry. She’s tough, a fucking warrior princess—she’s definitely Xena-level hot.

Taking a deep breath, I reach out and loop a strand of her vibrant red hair around my index finger, the silky strands sliding over my skin. “Move in with me?” I ask, knowing two things: one: this has the potential to blow up in my face, and two: I’m a total asshole for coming at her with this when her defenses are already down.

“West Larson!” AJ hisses, releasing her friend and sitting upright, ready to lay into me. Can’t win with her, can I?

Stacia sits up as well, pulling her knees to her chest. “No, it’s okay. Maybe…maybe I should.” She wipes her tears, and as her hands fall away, her gaze hardens. “But I’m not a fucking charity case.”

I hold up my hands. “Listen, I know you don’t want a handout or anything. We can work out an agreement, and I’ll have Colton, my lawyer, draft up a contract to make sure everything is fair and we’re both protected.”

The two women exchange a glance. AJ nods, and Stacia turns to me. “Yeah, okay.” She exhales deeply, some of the stress leaving her body. “Let’s do it.”

“Well, I’ll let you two work it out,” Abby Jane says, a victorious smile dancing on her lips, daring to break free. “Stacia, call me later.” She stands and exits the room, leaving the two of us to talk.