Entwined (Brutes of Bristlebrook #3)

by Rebecca Quinn

but don’t you think we should really get to the bottom of why you feel the need to leave me miserable and sleepless tonight?”

“I think you’re really mad at Jayk, and the noble thing was great and all, but maybe it’s time you call it quits and stop torturing the poor, desperate love of your life and maybe take your frustration out on the person who deserves it.”

“And you should give me lots of orgasms. For being honest. And because I love you,” I add.

“You’re sweet as the pit of a fucking peach, Jasper. You’re not a gentleman. It’s time you just admitted you’re an asshole like the rest of us. You’re—”

“You’re a fucking sadist, babe. My sadist. You take what you want, even if it hurts.” I shove a hand into my hair, my whole body trembling. “No wonder Eden was worried. You’re treating her like glass when she wants you to treat her like a⁠—”

“You are littler. I can crush you in my fist, rat.”

“I’m starting to think that out of all of you, Beau is the only one with any idea of how to romance a woman.”

“Now, isn’t this amusing. Our librarian is giving orders.”

I can’t get higher than I am. I’m already flying. In the clouds. But I am rising.

Jasper’s eyes widen in shocked, mortified panic. And in a series of long, involuntary spurts . . . he floods me with hot, sticky cum.

“I know the risk, Beau,” I whisper. “I’ve lived every day knowing I might die—that I might drink water I didn’t boil properly or food that I shouldn’t.

“I know what kind of men I fell for,” I tell them, and the tears spill over as I huff a laugh that hurts everywhere. “I can’t love you for all the ways you’re brave and good, but never let you be those things.” I swallow hard, and my smile becomes pained, too. “Those things will wither and die under the Sinners. It would kill you to watch people die knowing you could have done something. That we should have. You’re all . . . you’re so much braver than me.”

“We need a chance to make a better world than one the Sinners want to make,” I tell them.

“No one is dying,” he swears, harsh and rough and just for me. “No one, Eden. I’m not letting that happen. You’re not burying a single one of us.”

You’ve led them well, Jayk. You’ve led me well. If you wanted it, I’d follow you to the end.”

“I don’t want it, Dom. I don’t . . . need it. Not anymore.” He lifts one shoulder, but it’s more thoughtful than dismissive. “I took it for the wrong reasons. It’s not where I want to be. I’m glad I didn’t fuck it up, but . .

“Me and him, it was always us. We weren’t good at much of anything, you know, but we were together. Came in together, too, from two towns over, and Sawyer knew. He knew. He never once split us up.”

Pete’s voice cracks. “What am I gonna do now? I can’t bring anyone in without Buck. No one’s gonna trust my ugly mug. No one. What if Sawyer doesn’t need me anymore?”

“You know why I’m upset, sir. Alastair is out there, and he’s out there because of me.”

“Sir, I don’t know how to just . . . switch it off. I know what you’re saying. I do, and I . . . God, we’ll deal with Alastair. I’ll help, however I can. I’ll help you beat him, somehow.”

“Give me your guilt, pet. Give me the stress. Give me all that fucking responsibility you’re carrying. Give it all to me.”

I was made for her.

“You’re perfect, Eden. You’re the most perfect fucking thing,” I say against her ear.

“I love you, Dom,” she whispers . . . and it feels like she’s holding her breath.

“You have perfect breasts for fucking, pet. I like a slutty little librarian giving them up for me.”

“I should have had your cunt wrapped around my cock from the first day we met.” His gaze lifts to mine. “You’re a fantasy fuck, Eden. You better know how incredible you are.”

My head is beginning to feel floaty again, giddily light, and happiness bursts under my chest in smug, delighted little spurts.

until I feel both cherished and degraded, used and fucked and adored.

“I’m never letting you go. Not even if it kills me.”

“You’re not a toy, Eden. You never were. You’re the smartest person I know. The kindest. You’re braver than you should have ever had to be. That you’re all those things and still want to put yourself in my hands, that you let me play with that perfect fucking body, that you trust me with it—I don’t take it lightly.”

You’re a formidable fucking woman . . . and you’re the love of my life.”

Jayk, Lucky, and Beau all

having very vocal opinions about me needing to be safely inside. Preferably bound and in Bubble Wrap. In Beau’s case, with a butt plug in place waiting for him to return.

“No! He’s not good, Eden. He’s not sexy, or morally grey, or able to be saved. He’s not. He’s done too much to ever .

Heather doesn’t even try to lower her voice. It’s breaking with anger and grief.

“Alastair and that sadistic freakshow over there are still handing out women to his men like they’re prizes. And the captives who aren’t locked in with his men? They’re slaving away in the kitchen and scrubbing floors. None of them are safe, or free, or happy. Alastai...

“I think that whether Alastair is trustworthy or not, we’re in a bad position, and so is he with his men. I think we should try to negotiate something—some route to resolving this without a fight.”

“At midnight, we work out a solution with Alastair . . . because too many will die if we don’t.”

“I think we got there. Alastair’s a fuck to negotiate with. We made an agreement but . . . we had to make some concessions.” He glances at me. “You’re not going to like them. We were still arguing about it when we left. He wants to finish it out there. Needs to act like it’s all his idea, of course.”

“That’s it, I’m going out there with you. You need me. I know your cues better than Jasper if things go south,”

“Fine, but no losing your temper and shooting this time, no matter what he says. Eden was right. Bane has too much fucking influence. Alastair is going to make this ugly for us so he can make himself look good, so just . . .”

The Plan that Dom and I always talked about was something two teenagers brewed up—it was a plan that was always about us not wanting to lose each other to time, or moves, or different lives. It was a plan that included a woman, any woman, because monkhood didn’t suit us, and even pretty as Dom is, that kind of love bug never hit us. All my ideas about loyalty and love and friendship were always swept up in the dramatics. Defending each other under fire and putting him before anything and everything, no matter what. Love was supposed to be flawless and our partnership unbreakable, and I imagined dying someday right by his side, doing something heroic.

Eden has been saving herself her whole life. She’s never lived in a flawless world or found limitless loyalty.

Eden’s Plan is better than mine ever was. It’s a plan for grown-ups.

The Reapers were right to come to us. No one deserves to face men like this alone.

“You’re a brave woman, Eden. I hope you know how strong you are, in all the ways that have nothing to do with how hard you can hit. It’s only because of you that this was possible.”

My precious, beautiful, fierce Eden. “It’s because of you that we’ll win.”

I allow myself a single moment to enjoy the sight of Eden’s fist connecting with Akira’s stomach. She’s kneeling on Akira’s chest, wrestling the woman into the dirt, her face fierce and set, her glasses dangling around her neck by their chain.

My throat burns as I send up a silent prayer to my family, wishing them well and thanking them for watching over me, even when I was being an ass. I know Bailey would have been up there wishing she could

throttle me, and Brooke would be pulling out the popcorn because she always did like reality TV . . . and I think we’ve been putting on a damn good show. One I really pray has some strong parental controls in place. I hope I’ve grown into someone that makes my mama proud, and that she smiles when she checks in.