Night Is Darkest

the accident that had stolen her parents. She twisted to drop it over the cushion of the comforter but lost her balance on the squishy mattress. The glass covering the photograph shattered on impact against the corner of the nightstand on her way down.
Her lost loved ones stared back at her with timeless grins covered in broken shards as she collapsed on top of the wreckage of her life.
“Lacey! What the fuck’s going on?” Tyler’s shout snapped her out of her daze.
She raised her eyes to his but couldn’t force a sound past the constriction of her throat.
The spit-polished shine of his dress shoes captured her attention as they gobbled the distance from the door to her landing site in two huge strides. His hands curled around her waist in a protective hold as he righted her. Instead of soothing her, the touch incited another bout of her righteous fury.
“Put me down!” Though he pinned her shoulders to his chest with one sculpted arm, she lashed out with the three-inch spike of her boot, hoping to connect with his shin.
“Mason! Where the hell are you? Get up here!” Tyler bellowed as he spun toward the bed then flattened her thrashing body to the mattress.
“Get off me, you overgrown asshole!” Lacey continued to squirm and kick but she moaned when the motion rubbed her against every inch of the flexed muscles blanketing her, subjecting her to another kind of torture. She had to get out from under temptation before she did something crazy. So she turned her head and bit the vulnerable flesh on the inside of his forearm. Hard.
“Son of a bitch!” Tyler jerked. With the opening presented, she slithered from his grasp then made a break for the door.
Arms folded across his monolithic chest, thick thighs braced apart, Mason blocked her escape route. His imposing frame occupied the entire opening. He took an ominous pace forward, the dangerous glint in his ice blue eyes not one she’d seen aimed at her before. The intimidating glower caused her to retreat a teensy bit before she could check her instincts. She bumped into the solid wall Tyler had formed behind her. Trapped between the two men, who overwhelmed her senses on a good day, she abandoned all vestiges of sanity.
“Leave me the hell alone, both of you!” She lunged to the side in a futile attempt to slip between them.
Mason’s broad hands gripped her shoulders, though the gesture made it seem more like he cradled her instead of jarring her as she expected. “Hang on to her, Ty.”
One sleek arm wrapped around her hips while the other clamped above her breasts. A whimper snuck from her throat when Tyler accidentally brushed her nipples along the way. Her breath huffed in and out of her lungs beneath his embrace as she wished he caressed her for more pleasurable reasons. The tired dream refused to wither.
Lacey averted her gaze from the intuitive question on Mason’s face but it landed on the raw mark she’d inflicted on Tyler’s arm. The sight of his injury deflated some of the mad overtaking her system. “Shit, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know what came over me.”
She leaned forward to place a tender kiss beside the ring of bruises already forming beneath the raven hairs dusting his forearm. His husky whisper came close to her ear, washing her with the scent of the chocolate cake he must have eaten.
“It’s alright, little one. It’s about time you let some of this out. There isn’t enough room inside your itty-bitty bod for all that rage.”
His gentle understanding unleashed a torrent of emotions from behind her carefully constructed dam. If he hadn’t supported her, the force of the gush would have knocked her off her feet but she squeezed her eyelids shut against the liquid threatening to seep out.
“You’re bleeding.” Mason’s rough timbre broached the awkward silence. He scooped up her hand from where it dangled at her side, raising it for inspection. When the moist, heated silk of his mouth surrounded her index finger, her eyes flew open. The vision of his lips suctioning the droplet of blood from the immaterial scratch punched her in the gut.
Lacey wanted nothing more than to let them care for her. But they wouldn’t soothe her the way she needed. They never had before, no matter how many times she’d made a fool of herself in an attempt to entice them. Instead, they’d remained steadfast friends, always close yet never close enough. What did a nick on the tip of her finger matter when her heart had been through the wringer?
Sudden, rending pain slashed across her soul as one too many of life’s disappointments annihilated her shaky composure. Her chest heaved with dry sobs a moment before an unearthly wail burst from her throat. Grief obliterated all perception of her surroundings. Tears poured from her, dripping off her cheeks in a steady stream.
Lacey thought she would drown in sorrow. For her brother. For herself. Someone lifted her then deposited her on the flannel sheets with infinite care. She curled into a ball on her side. Dual heat sources bracketed her shuddering body. Even through the despair shredding her guts, some basic part of her recognized Tyler’s attempt to comfort her by rubbing her back. She cried in horrid gasps, unable to stop the flood of grief now that it had begun.
Rob! Not him, too. It’s not fair! She pleaded with the powers that be to transform this nightmare into some colossal mistake through divine magic. When that plan fell through, she emptied herself of heartache, crying until nothing remained but a hollow shell, brittle to the touch. After what seemed like hours, the steady murmuring of Mason’s soothing litany reached through her sniffling and the occasional cough.
“That’s right, Lace. We’ve got you.”
Unfortunately, his attempt at calming her incited another crying jag. Their intimate display of affection was temporary. She couldn’t get used to having them so close—to relying on them. After all, they weren’t hers