Fracture

19. Stella

CHAPTER 19

STELLA

I wake up to the heat of the men lying either side of me, and a dull ache between my legs. I test my body carefully, moving my hips side to side, and while I’m sore, it’s not terrible. When Dylan first entered me, I was sure I was going to burst, like he was going to split me straight up the middle. But the pain had quickly given way to pleasure, and when I think of how it felt when Dylan moved, how it felt to take both of them, hearing their moans and heavy breaths as they were both inside my body, it’s enough to have me squirming and feeling hotter and hotter between them.

An arm drapes around my waist, and a hard cock is pressed to my ass as Dylan exhales heavily against my neck.

“Good morning, guera ,” he murmurs.

I roll over carefully, trying not to wake Levi, and Dylan smiles down at me sleepily.

“Are you sore?” He asks, and I shake my head. He cocks an eyebrow. “No?”

I squeeze my thighs together, clawing at his neck to draw him down to me, suddenly filled with need. “Just a little.”

“More than a little, I think.”

“I don’t care.” I grab at his shoulders, trying to haul him on top of me which is about as easy as lifting a truck. He chuckles softly, which quickly dissolves into a groan as I wrap my hand around his cock. “Please, I need more.”

“Mmm, say that again.”

“Please?” My voice is strained, and I wriggle underneath him, trying to open my legs for him but he holds me in place. “I need you inside me.”

“Beg for it, guera .” He raises himself over me, wrapping a hand around my throat, pinning me to the bed.

“Please,” I squeak out, trying to speak under the pressure of his hand. “Please, fuck me.”

His dark eyes gaze down at me, and he squeezes my throat harder. “Say it again.”

“Please, please, please.”

He lowers his face, drawing my bottom lip into his mouth and biting down on it before commanding, “Again.”

“Please fuck me.”

“Three slaps against my ribs to stop,” he murmurs, and I can’t cough or gasp as he thrusts into me hard.

Even though I’m still slick from Levi’s cum, there’s a stinging heat as Dylan works his cock inside me. But it doesn’t hurt, not really. It feels right. The ache heightens my pleasure, and I’m light-headed from the pressure of Dylan’s hand on my throat.

“So pretty for me, aren’t you? Begging to be fucked right next to Levi while he’s sleeping.” Dylan laughs almost cruelly, and seeing his face twist like that, being at his mercy and surrendering control to him makes my pussy pulse around him, and he groans. “This pussy is heaven. Fuck, so fucking tight for me.”

My back arches off the bed, and I’m aware of movement beside me. Levi lifts his head, but I can’t move, still pinned to the bed by my throat. Even so, I can feel the heat and desire rolling off Levi as he watches Dylan fuck me.

Having Levi’s eyes on us just turns me on even more, makes me more desperate to come and have him too, and how was I ever going to leave this bed again?

“Can you take more?” Levi asks against my ear, and I panic for a second, because there’s no way I can take him as well after I just had them both inside me a few hours ago. Desperation for them both wars inside me, but I shake my head as much as I can under the grip of Dylan’s hand.

Levi looks up at Dylan, his face darkening with lust. “Let her up. On her knees.”

Dylan has me flipped over on my stomach, then hitched up to meet his hips in a split second. Before my hands have found their grip on the bed, he’s shoved back inside me, and I cry out as Levi grabs my jaw, forcing my mouth open. He looks down at me, panting as Dylan fucks me relentlessly. He’s hesitating, waiting for me to say yes.

Which I do by taking his swollen cock into my throat with a loud moan. He tastes sweet and salty, my lips burning as he stretches me. His blunt head hits the back of my throat as Dylan drives into me, forcing me down on to Levi’s thick length until I’m choking and tears are running down the side of my face.

I can barely breathe, but I don’t care, because I’m about to come, moaning and tensing between the two of them as they fuck my throat and my pussy, just like I dreamed. Levi’s fingers tangle in my hair, his hips jerking as he says my name, muttering out praise and curses.

I choke on my cries as I clench around Dylan’s cock, and his fingers dig into my hips with enough pressure to leave bruises as he swells and twitches and begins to spill inside me. Levi fucks my mouth harder, driving more and more tears down my face, and then a hot stream pulses down my throat, so deep I barely taste him. I swallow hard, eliciting another groan from him, then another, as I take all of him down, fighting to breathe through my nose and blinking away the tears that flood my eyes.

“ Fuck , baby girl,” he breathes, stroking my hair. “Fuck. This mouth of yours…” He pulls out of my mouth, stroking my jaw and running his thumb over my lips as I pant and moan, Dylan still buried inside me. “Do you know what it does to me to see you like this? Completely fucking ruined by us?”

I mewl and stretch, wanting more, and more, but Dylan pulls out of me, his cum dripping down my legs, and he gathers me down onto the bed with him, his arms around me as he showers kisses over my shoulders.

Levi collapses down beside us, and strokes my cheek tenderly. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, and my eyes flutter closed. “So fucking perfect, and beautiful. My perfect chaos.”

I lie between them like that for a long time, drifting in and out of sleep, and it’s only when my stomach begins to protest loudly at the lack of food and the too-many burned calories that we finally leave our little love nest. The guys head downstairs to make breakfast while I have a quick shower, admiring the scratches and love bites all over my back and neck.

I’ll have to get some industrial strength concealer on that for work tomorrow.

My phone is flashing when I get out of the bathroom, and I’m tempted to ignore it, and just head downstairs. But for some reason, I pick it up, and check my messages.

One is from Mallory, dated late last night. I roll my eyes, because this bitch just won’t let up. I open it, and nearly drop the phone.

Someone has emailed a set of photos to me. Stanley Iverson is visible in one of them. I’m keeping this between us for now. But please call me .

A set of photos. I’m going to throw up. How the fuck did they find my father’s photos? Where had they been hiding all this time? My head spins, and I bring up Mallory’s number to call her immediately, but then swipe it away again, sweat breaking out over my face.

Shit. Shit. Fucking goddammit. If someone has those photos, who else has seen them? Who else knows?

I nearly swipe the screen away, until I remember there was a second message. It’s probably Mallory again, and I wonder if I should just block her.

But the message isn’t from Mallory.

Sender Unknown: Bang Bang, girlie pop. Keep your mouth shut.

There’s a photo attached to the message, blurry and dark, taken from behind what appears to be a car window. A woman with a blonde bob is lifting groceries out of the back of her car, a toddler perched on her hip.

My stomach drops, and cold sweat breaks out over the back of my neck.

I’m almost 100% sure it’s Mallory. Mallory, and her baby.

“Oh shit.” I clutch the phone to my chest and hurry down the stairs to the kitchen.

The guys both look up with warm smiles which quickly turn into frowns. Dylan rushes towards me, grabbing on to my forearms.

“What’s wrong?”

“The reporter, that’s - Oh my god, I think that’s her, and her baby, and-” I shake my head, handing him my phone and covering my mouth with my hand. I can’t speak. I can’t say out loud what I think is happening, because it’s too terrifying and awful to even consider.

Dylan’s eyes flicker over the message, then to the photo, narrowing for a second before realization breaks over his face. He looks over his shoulder into Levi’s concerned face.

“Someone has eyes on the reporter and her family.”

Levi’s jaw feathers, and he leans on the counter. “Fuck.”

“What does this mean?” I look from one to the other, looking for an explanation, for shock. But they both look like they expected this. Like they know something I don’t. “Why are you both so calm? You don’t even seem surprised.”

Levi rounds the counter to put his hands on my shoulders. “Baby girl, listen to me.”

I shrug him off, backing away from him. “No, there’s something going on here and I want to know what it is.” I look over at Dylan and shake my head. “The way you were talking the other day, and then you.” My gaze moves back to Levi. “You charging off the second I mentioned Stanley Iverson. There’s something going on here and I want to know what it is.”

“ Guera , there’s nothing going on.” Dylan moves towards me slowly, his big dark eyes fixed on my face. “I need you to know that.”

“You’re a bad liar, Kovac, you always were.” My words are laced with venom, and he winces. “Now, you both listen to me. If there’s something going on here, if you two have some stupid little plan for revenge, I’m telling you both right now to stop.”

“That’s not an option.”

Levi’s voice is steely and low, and filled with a threat that has Dylan and I both turning to look at him. His eyes move from Dylan to me.

“Baby girl, I need you to understand something.”

“I understand everything.” I snatch my phone from Dylan’s hands and back away towards the door. “I understand that once again revenge is more important than me.”

“That’s not how it is at all.” Dylan holds his hands up, matching my steps as I back away from them and furious tears begin to well in my eyes. “You didn’t get justice, and that’s on us. This is how we make it right.”

“No, this is how you both become vigilantes!” I scoff out a disbelieving laugh. “How can you do this? How can you risk all of this, this ?” I gesture between the three of us desperately. “After everything I did, after everything I gave up for you, to have you back to have you here -” I break off, scrubbing my face with the back of my hands furiously.

“What do you mean?” Dylan is right in front of me, hands gripping my upper arms and staring me down. “What do you mean, what you gave up?”

“The fucking plea bargain, Dylan.” I push him away, my chest pounding and my hands shaking. “The plea bargain. The one you two agreed to. I had to agree to it too.”

Levi and Dylan glance at each other, confusion furrowing their brows.

“What do you-”

I cut Dylan off with a wave of my hand. “You really think I wouldn’t have come to see you? You really think all I wanted to send you was those stupid nothing letters? Neither of you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, something else was going on?”

Dylan’s face crumples, and he cradles my jaw in his hands. “Stella, what did they do?”

I’ve gone too far. I shouldn’t have said anything. This is going to make it worse. This is going to fuel the vengeance I can feel simmering within them both just beneath the surface. But it’s too late. A scalding hot tear runs down my cheek, and I shake my head, wishing I could rewind time and be back in bed with the both of them, love-drunk and warm, and miles away from the reality that’s just going to tear us apart again.

“Gloria made me do it.” I whisper, trying to shield Levi from more pain, from more distance from his family. “Her, and Oswald. They came to me and said if I cared about the two of you, I’d agree to it. I wasn’t allowed to come and see you, and I had to let them read all my letters first. It wasn’t until… Until I fought it, and got to you when your parole was announced, that I was able to… To…”

“But why?” Levi’s voice is drenched with pain, and when I gaze over Dylan’s shoulder at him, his face is dark and filled with grief, shoulders sagging. “Why would they do that?”

“Your grandfather said it would help us all forget.” I want to run away, but instead I sag into Dylan’s arms, and he holds me to his chest, hands threading into my hair. “As if I could ever forget. As if I could ever stop loving you.”

“ Guera , I’m so sorry.” Dylan’s lips caress my forehead, and Levi is at my back, fingers running down my bare arms.

“Baby girl, we’re not going back to prison.” Levi’s voice is warm against my ear. “You hear me? We’re not going back to prison. Ever.”

“Levi, please.”

“No.” Levi presses me between them. “Baby girl, no matter what happens, we’re not going back there.”

“If you do this, I’ll lose you again.” I gesture to the phone. “And they’re watching us. They’re threatening some innocent woman and her fucking child . You have to stop. We have to warn her.”

Dylan shakes his head, dark eyes gazing down at me. “No, that will place her in more danger. I’ll have eyes on her, make sure she’s safe, I promise.”

“Dylan, you cannot burn the world down for this.”

“Yes, we can.” Levi’s voice is heavy, and he strokes a hand down my arm. “And those men will pay.”

I feel weak between them, weak and helpless and part of a plan that I once again have no control over, one I can only stand by and watch play out in front of me. My head falls against Dylan’s chest, and I sigh heavily, trying not to cry, because that won’t make anything better.

“I need you both to promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” I murmur, knowing full well my pleas are falling on unhearing ears.

“Everything’s going to be just fine,” Dylan assures me, kissing my forehead again and again.

His words don’t make me feel any better.

Going back to work is the last thing I want to do.

I procrastinate way too long on getting dressed and ready, the house quiet since Dylan and Levi have already left for the garage early in the morning. We didn’t talk any more about their plans for revenge, because there isn’t any point.

And maybe, just maybe, deep down I want the men who hurt me to pay.

I hate admitting it to myself, struggling to meet my own eyes in the mirror as I apply make-up. But maybe some small part of me wishes the woman looking back at me could take that gun in hand herself. I don’t think I could ever kill somebody, but the thought of getting revenge, hearing someone beg for their own life while I’m completely in control of it, someone who hurt me and left me with trauma so deep it almost drowned me for years…

My phone rings, jerking me from my thoughts. My heart leaps into my throat when I see it’s the office, and I panic for a second that I mooched around for way too long, and am, in fact, now late for my first day back. I surely didn’t lose track of time that badly?

My eyes flash to the time on the screen. It’s only 8.10AM. I’m nowhere near late.

“Hello?” I say, pressing the phone to my ear. “This is Stella.”

“Hi Stella, it’s Clark here.” My boss’s voice is stern, and I instantly feel as though I’m in trouble. My boss calling me this early on a Monday? Something is definitely wrong.

“Hi there, you’re calling early,” I reply, trying to keep my voice bright and not let it waver.

“Yes, I’m sorry about that. But, um, listen… Stella, are you alright? Are you safe right now?”

I blink at my reflection. “I’m still at home, do you need me at the office right now?”

“No, that’s the last thing we need right now.”

“Sir, I don’t understand what you’re telling me.”

“Stella, I need you to get somewhere safe right now, I’ve called the police and they’re on the way to your house.” He takes a deep breath, and panic sends a cold sweat prickling across my top lip. “The office received a threat this morning, an envelope and a phone call. Someone threatened to shoot everyone in the office if you entered the premises. There was a bullet with your name engraved on it in the envelope.”

My knees threaten to buckle, and I catch myself on the counter. “Oh my god. Clark, I - I’m so sorry, is everyone safe?”

“They’re fine, honey, I promise you, we’re all fine.” The fact that my stoic boss is calling me honey, his voice full of almost paternal concern, tells me just how fucking spooked he is. “I called the police immediately, and they’re on their way to you, like I said. I just want you to be safe.”

“OK, I’ll - I’ll let them in. I just… I don’t know what could have caused this.”

“This isn’t your fault, I promise.” Clark’s voice wavers a little, and I can hear commotion in the background. “I need to go, but I’ll be in touch. The office is closed for now, and until you talk to the police, I think you should just take some time off.”

“Of course, I’ll take unpaid leave, I’m so sorry for all this, sir.” My palm is sweating, my phone slipping from my grasp so I have to readjust, my stomach threatening to empty the three cups of coffee I drank straight down the sink. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, please, just… Be safe. I need to go, the FBI just arrived. If you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate. We’re all here for you.”

I hang up without saying another word, because I don’t think I can. The FBI . Everything feels like it’s careening out of control, and fast.

As quickly as I bring up Mallory’s number, I swipe it away again. What if her phone’s being monitored? Maybe Dylan and Levi are right, and I’ll just put her in more danger if I call her. And since someone left my name on a bullet…

My coffee comes up. I wretch into the bathroom sink until I’m sweating and shaking.

I hadn’t understood it when Oswald had put a plea bargain in front of me. I’d been confused by me having to agree to anything. I’d told him to go fuck himself. But then he’d told me there were people who had an interest in keeping me quiet, and only he could protect me. The powerful senator, who only had his grandson’s best interests at heart.

I look at my pale reflection, and it all starts to make sense.

Gloria and Oswald have something to do with this, I’m sure of it. Whatever protection they were offering me, they’ve withdrawn it now.

I jump at the sound of my doorbell, inhaling deeply through my nose to calm myself.

The man and woman at the door are dressed in suits, their badges on display. Detectives. They nod through the glass, the woman smiling reassuringly. I open the door slowly, hoping I don’t look like an absolute mess.

“Hi, Stella Langford?” The woman asks, and I nod slowly. “I’m Detective Hawkins, and this is my partner Detective Fallon.”

“Hi, my boss said he’d sent you over.”

“That’s right. We have reason to believe a threat has been made against you, and wanted to ask you a few questions if that’s alright?” Her reassuring smile is back.

“Sure.” I step back, letting them into the house, and as I close the door, I see my neighbors standing on their front lawn, watching intently as these two cops walk into my house. The rumor mill is going to be running wild, I’m sure. They probably suspect the two tattooed men living with me are up to no good.

And they wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

I clench my eyes shut, feeling more and more tangled with every passing second.

“Miss Langford?” Detective Fallon’s voice sounds behind me. “Are you alright?”

I inhale sharply and push the door closed before turning to face them. “I’m fine, thank you.” I gesture to the kitchen, and they walk in ahead of me. “Just a little shaken up, I guess.”

“Completely understandable,” Detective Hawkins says. “Is it alright if we sit down? You look a little pale.”

I nod, wordlessly sitting down at the kitchen table as the detectives take a seat opposite me.

Detective Fallon clasps his hands on the table, eyeing me with concern. “Miss Langford, is there anyone who’d want to see you get hurt?”

I run a hand through my hair and try not to laugh. These detectives have no idea just how many people want to see me get hurt, how many people have tried to hurt me. But I can’t tell them any of that. Instead, I just shake my head, trying to look surprised, innocent, shocked. All the expressions I’ve rehearsed over the years, pushing away everything that ever happened to me.

“Not that I can think of,” I lie, shrugging. “I’m shocked. I don’t have any enemies, not like that.”

“Did your boss tell you what was sent to the office this morning?”

I nod, and watch as she pulls out her phone, and brings up a picture of a shotgun shell. ‘Stella’ is scratched into the side of it. I swallow hard, and meet the detective's eyes as I shake my head.

“I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt me. I’m… just me.”

“We understand your brother and his friend are living with you,” Detective Hawkins says. “Is it possible that someone is trying to get to them through you?”

My stomach churns at the word brother , and it feels like one more crack in this already broken situation.

“No, they don’t have any enemies.” More lies. More and more fucking lies fracturing my life.

Detective Fallon lifts an eyebrow for a split second, betraying his disbelief. “No enemies at all? I find that hard to believe.”

I fix him with a cold stare. “And why is that?”

Detective Hawkins quickly lifts her hands. “We’re just trying to find an answer to all of this. A serious threat like this, we’ll be looking into it heavily.”

“Well, you do that then.” I flick my hair over my shoulder, not sure what else to say, what else they could want from me. “I don’t know what you expect to find.”

“All we want to find is an answer to all of this, so that you’re safe, and whoever is making these threats can’t follow through on them.”

“I’ll be fine, it’s probably some kid pulling a prank.” I get to my feet, screaming at myself internally to not waver for a second, to not wobble on my feet and betray just how fucking terrified I am right now. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to see to.”

“Of course.” Detective Hawkins pulls out a card as she rises out of her chair, and places it on the table. “This is my number, if anything else happens please call me immediately.”

“We can have someone watch the house,” Detective Fallon says. “If that would make you feel safer.”

I shake my head and laugh lightly. “My housemates will keep me perfectly safe, don’t worry about me. I’ll hire private security if I feel like I need it.”

The detectives exchange a glance, and my throat feels tight. I hate using the Rich Girl card, I hate feeling like I’m bragging about being wealthy. But I also want these fucking cops out of my house.

I walk past them to the door, opening it for them and giving them a wide smile as they pass me. “Have a great day!” I call out after them, before slamming the door shut and scurrying back to the kitchen and snatching up my phone.

I type out a frantic text to Dylan, before stopping myself. No. I can’t tell them. They’re already hell-bent on revenge, and this will just accelerate any plan they have. If I tell them someone is threatening me like this, they’ll never let me leave the damn house again.

I slowly delete the text, letter by letter, retreating into yet more lies, more secrecy. As the message disappears completely, I wonder if my life will ever be anything but.