Page 4 of Chloé

“Mrs. Fisk.”

“Mrs. Fisk. She was an uptight, horrible human, okay? To say that to a fifteen-year-old? That’s despicable.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Shayla slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in tight. “Do you know anyone who loves each other as much as your fathers love one another?”

“No.” The word was out of her mouth in an instant, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t gone through a difficult time in school trying to explain to teachers and other classmates their complex relationship. Most just nodded and weren’t brave enough to say anything to her face about it. But on that particular day, four years ago, Mrs. Fisk had told her in no uncertain times how disgusting her fathers were and how their situation would leave her alone in heaven when the time came.

That night, she’d raced home and angrily written her thoughts about the whole situation in her diary before hiding it away so her fathers would never know. Then she’d cried herself to sleep.

That was the moment Chloé’s eyes had really been opened to the kind of hate that existed in the world. But where some might decide to let that shape them, or change their opinion on love and life, she had decided to let it free her. That had been the day she rejected anything and everything that was expected of her, and instead followed her heart.

She found her voice that day,andgot suspended for it. But when asked why she talked back to her teacher, she’d made up some ridiculous answer, not wanting to hurt her fathers in any way. It had been worth it, and she’d never looked back since.

“You know, I actually wish I could see her again to thank her.”

Shayla eyed her as though she’d lost her mind. “Tothankher?”

“Yep.” Chloé winked and plucked the diary out of Shayla’s hands. “That was the day I decided I wouldn’t let anyone tell me how to think, and thank God for that. Because without her, I wouldn’t be moving in with my two doms above their sex club today, would I?”

* * *

ZAYNE WIPED THE sweat from his brow as he waited inside the small office of the truck rental store. He’d been standing there for a good twenty minutes now while waiting for the desk attendant to return from helping the guy who’d managed to get in the door two minutes before him.

It was just his luck, too. It was hotenough to fry an egg on the pavement outside, and now here he was standing in a tiny-ass office with no air conditioning on literally the hottest day they’d had so far this summer.

But it was Chloé’s moving day, and for that reason alone, he was more than willing to stand in the portal of hell to get the truck he needed to help her move her things.

Plus, it wasn’t like he was alone. He had—

“What on earth is taking so long in here?”

—Priest with him.

Zayne looked over to the door where Chloé’s papa was scowling at him. He’d decided that was a look of affection from the oh-so-serious lawyer since Priest had specifically pickedhimto come on this little adventure today.

Then again, considering his only other option was Ethan, it really wasn’t a surprise that Zayne had been his first choice. Julien and Robbie were at the restaurant today, and over the last month or so it had become increasingly clear which fathers gravitated to whom—and lucky him, he’d ended up with the difficult, possessive alpha one.

“Guy before me must be havin’ issues. They went out back as soon as I got here, and I haven’t seen them since.”

Priest made a disgruntled sound and marched up to the front desk. He peered around the side and out the back door, and when he saw the same thing as Zayne—absolutely nothing—he shook his head.

“This is ridiculous. How long does it take to hand someone a set of keys?”

Zayne leaned up against the desk and crossed his arms. “At least twenty minutes.”

Priest tugged at the collar of his shirt, and Zayne thought he might jump the desk to go and find the missing worker. But before he could, the back door opened and the worker walked in.

As the guy came to a standstill behind the computer, he looked between the two of them and sighed. “You got a reservation?”

Priest’s jaw bunched, and as he opened his mouth to no doubt ream the guy a new one, Zayne quickly jumped in, not wanting to be stuck there any longer than necessary.

“Yeah, it’s under Copeland.”

The guy started tapping away at the computer and then nodded. “A truck?”

“No, a Maserati,” Priest deadpanned, and the guy stopped and looked at the two of them.

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