Page 87 of Claim & Don't Tell

“But if I already kept my promise, if I already did what she asked, everything I’ve done since is pointless. Every time I’vepushed Austin or berated Dylan about being responsible was for nothing.”

“No,” Dr. Rumi says. “It’s not for nothing, Brady. You care. You were trying to keep them safe, and that’s a noble pursuit, but what you have to understand is that you can’t control them. They won’t do what you think is best, because they have their own wants and needs. Their own trauma.”

I sniff hard and grip the phone a little tighter. “What if”—I cut off and swallow the lump in my throat—“what if they’re not safe? What if Dylan drops out of law school and ends up without money when the fighting is over?”

“He has family, a support system?”

“Of course,” I say quickly. “That’s all I’ve been trying to be.”

“Well, then. It seems like you’ll be able to help him find his way, but onlyifhe comes to you for help.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“If he doesn’t, then we’ll work through how you feel, but for now, we need to work on you and you alone. What do you think you need to do?”

My first instinct is to go home and demand everyone do as I say, but that’s what I’ve been doing for so long, and look at where that got me. Dr. Rumi hit me a little too hard with the truth. I’ve been trying to control everyone in my life without realizing that it’s foolish to attempt such a thing.

I frown and glance up when Angela scurries in to drop off a report. I grimace at how timid I’ve made her today. I’ll have to find a way to make it up to her, to earn her trust again.

Just like what I need to do with Quinn. Only, earning my assistant’s forgiveness is going to be a hell of a lot easier than it will be to earn Quinn’s.

But I have to try.

Thirty-Five

QUINN

It’s a miracle I remember my shift at the beach with how many orgasms Dylan and Austin were intent on giving me. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I remember the way it felt for both of them to mark my skin. For the first time in forever, I go without descenting lotion, loving the way my scent has changed, now that my mates have claimed me.

There’s a touch of vanilla coating the honey and musk—the sign of a mated omega—and a reminder of everything.

The good.

And the bad.

I try not to dwell on the situation with Brady while I pull on my swimsuit. Austin and Dylan had to get ready for their own things, work and school, and while we contemplated staying, I couldn’t stomach letting Gary down. Plus, I’d never be able to forgive myself if they were short-staffed and someone drowned.

Piling my hair into a messy bun, I smooth waterproof concealer over the marks. Two on the right—Brady’s and Austin’s—and one on the left—Dylan’s. A spike of guilt hammers into my back. I shouldn’t hide it, but how do I explain thesituation? We haven’t discussed if everyone is okay with making it public.

We were too focused on the moment.

And what’s worse, I don’t even know what we’re going to tell our parents. My stomach clenches, and I avoid looking at the covered marks. I swallow hard and try not to think about the disappointment on Mom’s face when she realizes what I’ve done. Three steadying breaths calm my racing heart but do nothing to stop the doubt swirling in the back of my mind.

Will the guys realize it was a mistake once they go about their day? Will they leave the house and remember all the reasons our being together doesn’t make sense?

Stop it.

I pinch my eyes shut and count to ten, shutting it all down. It’s too easy for me to fall into the pattern of worrying about every possible bad thing. The whole point of being with them was to stop, to embrace what I want and not what everyone else expects.

I spent years terrified to be around Brady. And now he’s the one running away. He’s the one sneaking out of the house, praying not to be noticed.

The tables have turned, and while I’m happy to not tiptoe through my own home, a part of me is sad. He has so much he needs to work through, but he’s too stubborn to do anything about it. Brady will go to his grave hating the world, and for that, my heart breaks. There’s an alpha in there that deserves more than what he’s giving himself.

My door bangs open, and Dylan appears, freshly showered and wearing expensive jeans and a black T-shirt. His eyes immediately seek out his mark and darken when he sees what I’ve done. My pulse flutters, and I bite my cheek to keep from begging for forgiveness.

“What’s going on?” Austin nudges his brother out of the way. Both the brothers step into my room, and I try not to inhale on instinct, then remember I don’t have to do that anymore.

I breathe their fresh scents in and sigh.

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