Page 17 of Whips and Chains
“Is that bacon?” Levi came into the room from the hallway.
I avoided his gaze; sure my cheeks were pink again.
Whip answered for me, “Bacon and eggs and toast. Clean clothes in the bag by the door if you want to wear something other than a towel…” He glanced up and then laughed at X emerging from the hallway. “Or a robe that’s way too short.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Dude, I can see your balls.”
X might have been unusually subdued last night, but there was no sign of that this morning. There was indeed sign of his balls peeping out beneath a silky robe I’d bought online twelve months ago that had claimed to be an extra-large but had turned out to be more like a small. I hadn’t had a hope in hell of fitting into it, but I’d been too embarrassed to return it and ask for a bigger size, even though the sizing had clearly been way off standard.
I’d kept it with my foster mom’s words ringing in my ears about how I should always have a goal outfit, and that’s how she had kept herself so trim over the years.
I fucking hated that robe. It had made me feel like shit about myself every day for the past year, and I didn’t know why I hadn’t thrown it out.
But maybe this was why.
Because seeing it stretched around X was hilarious. Balls hanging out and all.
Levi winced at him. “Seriously, go put some pants on. Nobody ordered sausage for breakfast.
X raised an eyebrow at him. “Says the man whose balls I had a bird’s-eye view of last night. Tit for tat.” But he moved toward the bag Whip had pointed out, giving me a small smile as he passed. “Hey, Omelet.”
The weird nickname he was so fond of barely registered. All I could think about was the way he’d fucked me doggy style last night, plunging into me after Levi had already used me so well.
I was going to be reliving that night in my dreams for a long time. At least I hoped I would be.
It was much more pleasant than the alternative nightmares I also knew I would be capable of.
X pulled on an identical pair of sweats to Whip and tossed a third pair at Levi.
I pointed at the white T-shirts still sitting in the clear plastic bag. “Any of you going to put a shirt on?”
Levi held up the sandwich he’d made with two pieces of toast and filled with the runny eggs and crispy bacon. “It’s a lot easier to wipe egg off my chest than off a white shirt.”
“I need a shower first,” Whip added.
X nodded in agreement. “Same.”
I wasn’t going to complain. Having three attractive men in nothing but matching gray sweats wandering around my kitchen and making me food was something out of one of my romance books. I couldn’t wait to tell Toby all about it.
My heart sank when I remembered I was never going to get to do that. The image of his body lying cold in that warehouse had me regretting all the bacon I’d just eaten.
“It wasn’t me who murdered anyone last night,” I said quietly.
The three of them fell silent, each of them looking in my direction.
Levi’s elbows rested on the countertop across from me, and he set his breakfast sandwich back down on his plate. “Nobody thought you did.”
I nodded stiffly, avoiding his gaze, and instead glancing over at the letter that had made its way onto the coffee table at some point I couldn’t remember. “Someone made me think that letter was from you. But when we got there, the door locked, and it was Dickson inside.”
Levi’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “Then he deserved everything he got.”
“No, he didn’t. He was just as confused as we were about why he was there.” I forced myself to look him in the eye. “I know you didn’t like him, but I really don’t think he wanted to start anything with you. Everything that happened last night…the booby trap that killed Dickson…the countdown…Dickson was just as much a victim as Toby and I were.”
Whip’s warm hand found the back of my neck and squeezed it reassuringly. “We need to know everything, Vi. I know it’s hard, but we need to know it all.”
I’d spent the last few hours forcing all thoughts out of my head but now I found them all tumbling out, that burden needing to be shared with someone, so it lightened the load that was too heavy for my shoulders alone.
I told them every gruesome, horrifying detail.
And when I was done with word vomiting my trauma, I waited for a reaction from them.
