Though, maybe if the car hadn’t been there, they might not have set the place on fire.
“Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?” Sam asked.
Amelia sat on the edge of the couch, and her shirt pulled tight, revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
I tried to pull my eyes away, but her boobs to me were like a moth to a flame.
And her nipples were fucking hard.
How was a man to pay attention to another man talking when Amelia’s nipples were hard?
“Adam.”
I blinked, surprised that my name had been called.
I’d been so focused after all.
“What?” I asked, unsure which of them had even called my name at this point.
“Are you okay?” Amelia asked.
I rubbed my hand over my face. “I’m fucking tired. I’ve had like, seven hours of sleep over the last four days, my stomach is growling, I can’t really tell whether I should eat or not yet because I don’t want to puke it up, and to top it all off, my girl almost got murdered last night. I don’t think I’m anywhere near okay.”
“Your girl?” Sam asked.
I looked to Amelia again, somehow managing to keep my eyes off her nipples, and studied her face.
She was wearing my second favorite t-shirt.
It was a Metallica shirt that I’d gotten when I was younger. When I’d seen my first live band.
I’d hated the band—sorry but I wasn’t into screaming as music—but I’d loved the experience.
And that shirt.
But the idea of Amelia taking that one, too? It didn’t bother me.
What bothered me was the idea of her hurt in any way, and my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet. But, looking at her, she was only looking at me with something close to adoration.
She liked me, too. And wasn’t afraid to show it in front of her much older, could-be-her-dad age-wise, brother.
“Yeah, my girl,” I confirmed.
Sam sighed. “I think that it would be best for Amelia to either go home for a while and let the movie stars and their fanatics move on out, or to have her come stay with me. We have the room.”
“I’m not staying with you,” Amelia said. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to live in a well-built prison. I want to live my life, which is why I moved down here, and you know it.”
“Somebody tried to burn your house down, Amelia. Thinking you were inside. I would say this is a bit over your head logistics-wise, don’t you think?” he growled.
Amelia’s eyes went to flame.
“I realize that,” she snapped. “But I don’t want to live with you, Sam. I’ve done the whole hovering father thing. I want to fucking breathe!”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Dad wasn’t that bad.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “I never got to go out on a date until I moved out of their house.”
Sam didn’t say anything, and neither did I. But inwardly, I winced.
“Do you know what it’s like to have every aspect of your life examined? Everything you do? Say? Hell, sometimes I’m even convinced he knows what I’m thinking,” she said. “I love our dad but… it was stifling living with him. Leaving was my only option. And I won’t go back. Not to you, and not to him.”
“Then where are you going to go?” Sam asked. “Who are you going to put in danger so your silly little self can be ‘free?’”
I didn’t like the way he was talking to her, dismissing her fears as silly.
I knew there was a lot that she wasn’t saying, too.
A lot that was underneath the surface that I think she didn’t want her brother to know.
“With me.”
Amelia’s head jerked up and she stared at me in stunned silence.
Sam’s eyes narrowed as he waited to hear an explanation.
“She can stay here with me,” I murmured softly. “Honestly, it’s the soundest solution if she’s not going to your place or her dad’s. This entire place is crawling with cops at all times. When I let the dog out at three in the morning, one was pulling up from shift. When I was letting the dog out when you got here, one came out to follow after his wife. I’m not saying this is perfect but… it could work.”
A soft sigh left Amelia, but before she could say anything more, we all heard the roar of a bike pulling up. One that wasn’t even trying to be quiet despite the time in the morning.
I walked to the door and opened it for Silas Mackenzie.
He was halfway up the walk when I opened it, and by the time I stepped back to allow him entrance, he was already halfway in.
“Morning,” Sam muttered, his arms crossed over his chest.
Silas took one glance at him, made sure that he was okay with a quick sweep of his head, then walked to Amelia.
The moment he was there he had her wrapped up in his arms.
Amelia’s arms returned the hug, her fists barely able to close around Silas’ back.
I went to the kitchen and started making coffee, then went ahead and fed King her breakfast before calling out, “Amelia, how do you take your coffee?”
There was a stretch of silence and then, “Cream until it no longer looks brown at all, and like, a smidge of sugar.” She paused. “Shit, I don’t have extra blood test strips with me. And all of my insulin…”
“I got that,” I heard Silas grumble. “In my saddlebag. Went by Lynn’s place and got some shit out of your locker. We’d just gotten your new shipment in the mail, too. Sam, can you go get that? It needs to be refrigerated.”
I heard the stomping of feet as I carried two coffee mugs in both of my hands to the island that separated the kitchen from the living room.
Placing them down with extreme care, I pushed two blacks to the other side of the counter before starting to push Amelia’s mostly cream one toward her.
She surprised me, though, by coming around the counter and reaching for the coffee before I could push it all the way over. “I’m gonna need you to mainline this here in a few minutes.”
I grinned. “I could probably start an IV, but it’s been a hot minute. It’d be easier for me to just take you to my mom instead.”
Sam stomped in then, carrying what looked to be a small girl’s lunch sack.
“Oh!” Amelia clapped. “She found it.”
My brows rose.
“She found what?” I asked curiously.
“The lunch sack that I asked for.” Amelia snickered. “I told her we needed a cuter one to pass off our drugs in. She said she’d find one that I’d like. I’m pretty sure this is the exact one I pointed out to her on the cover of a magazine last month.”
“It is,” Silas muttered as he walked the bag to the fridge. “Check your blood sugar.”
Amelia rolled her eyes but went about doing what her father ordered.
We all sipped our coffee and watched her go about testing her blood sugar, starting with a prick of her finger, moving to place that drop of blood on the strip that was connected to the glucose monitor.