Not So Delicate ||18+

Brooklyn ~39~

The damage of the fire was a lot less than I had thought. Only my bedroom, Milo's, and the living room were damaged the most. Most of my things survived. However, my underwear drawer was emptied.

"What kind of perverted bastard would do this?" Milo huffed, packing as many things in the last box as he could.

"We're trying to figure that out." Zachary said from behind us. I look over my shoulder to see Atticus and Callan walk in on their phones behind him. Talk about hot.

My thighs were still quivering and the ache between them was yet to be fully satisfied. And the sight of the three men standing in my charred living room made the ache even more noticeable. Zachary was wearing a white button-up and black dress pants, silver jewelry cladding his fingers and neck.

Callan wore a light grey pant with a black turtle neck, and gold jewelry draped over him like melted ore. Unlike Atticus, Callan had only a fair few tattoos, four on his chest and another on his shoulder blade. I had noticed them when I accidentally walked in on him stripping off his shirt. He had stared at me through the mirror as I watched.

Now Atticus... Hot fricking dog.

The man was built by the gods. Unlike the other two, he wore something a little more casual and comfortable, in some way matching me. A mouthwatering black compression shirt matched with comfortable sweatpants. I had overheard something about a gym before we came here. Zachary walked over and stood behind me, smiling down at the little teddy bear in my hands.

"Holy shit. Brooke, are these your men?" Milo gaped, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of all three men that crowded the space. My heart lurched to my throat before I swallowed it down. I look down at my feet and smile softly.

"They're not mine-" I bite back a yelp at the playful pinch on my ass. I look over my shoulder at Zachary and glare at him as he looks at me innocently confused. "Yeah. They are."

I noticed a teasing smirk slowly quirk on Zachary's lips before it faded away and was replaced with a full on grin.

"I don't give two flying fucks, Dante. Голова сукиного сына будет на моей чертовой стене. Меня не волнует, является ли он частью них." I heard Atticus shout, saying something in his mother language. His face was tense and angry, Callan's matching. {The son of a bitch's head will be on my fucking wall. I don't care if he's part of them.}

"What's wrong?" I ask Zachary, hoping he would give me an answer. His eyes simply remained on me, a small smile on his lips. It was forced. His eyes were dim, their usual shine no longer there. His smile didn't reach his cheeks. "Zach?"

"We know who set the fire." He murmurs, his eyes spacing out over my shoulder, staring at the empty underwear drawer. "The only problem is, he's protected by a gang."

~~

"This isn't fair! I deserve to know." I huff, yanking my arm out of Callan's grasp and crossing them over my chest, looking at them stubbornly.

"Angel, we'll explain it all to you once you're safe in our house." He said lowly, on the verge of snapping. Some part of me wanted to push him forward just to see what he would do if he did snap. Every other part of me screamed to just listen. I think you know which option I chose.

"I'm not moving from here until I get a name. This is my apartment, and my belongings." I huff, glaring at them. "And he's in a gang also? This is my life we're talking about here! He probably intended to set me on fire along with the apartment!"