Page 12 of The Burdens We Share (Satan’s Angels #3)

I rest my head on her shoulder. “I miss it too.”

Brody slaps her palms down on the table, “You guys! Stop acting like we’re dying tomorrow. We get to live a whole lifetime together.”

I shrug, “It doesn’t feel the same anymore.”

Brody groans, “Is this because I got sober?”

Aria rolls her eyes, “No, Sticks, it’s because we’re growing up.”

I frown, “I don’t wanna grow up.”

Brody plays with the engagement ring on her finger, “No matter how our lives change, we’re always gonna be Satan’s Angels.”

Aria’s eyes land on her engagement ring and suddenly my ring finger feels very naked. “We have matching tattoos. We’re all kinda stuck together for life.”

I think of our little angel wing tattoos that we all got on the backs of our arms. A moment of silence spreads around us and I break it a minute later with laughter. Aria tilts her head, a smile on her lips, “What’s funny?”

I have to stifle my laughter, “Do you guys remember that guy who grabbed my leg and tried to pull me off the bar a couple years ago?”

Brody bursts out laughing so hard, that tears start welling in her eyes. “Holy shit! I do!”

Aria starts giggling, “That had to be my favorite Satan’s Baby moment.”

“Mine too. Dude, you literally smashed him across the face with your guitar,” Brody says admirably.

Aria adds, “And then we held him down and you force-fed him vodka until he puked everywhere.”

I start laughing myself, my body shaking with it. “We did such fucked up stuff.”

Brody’s laughter settles. “It’s a miracle we didn’t end up in jail.”

Aria nods, “Thank Harvey Taylor and Selene Stone for that.”

“Agreed,” I add.

Aria turns on Brody. “Let’s not forget the time that you stopped in the middle of oncoming traffic and busted that pap’s windshield with a crowbar.”

Brody grins, “Fuck that guy.”

“You have anger issues,” I inform her as if we all didn’t already know that.

Brody leans forward defensively, “Dude! He was harassing me!”

“Personally, I think you should’ve shoved the crowbar down his throat,” I reach for the script and continue reading through some lines before I add. “That’s just my humble opinion.”

Brody’s about to say something in response when someone knocks on the trailer door. Dallas opens it and a crew member appears, someone I haven’t seen before. “Hi, girls. I’m Steph. I need you three to come with me, Martin wants to have a word with you about the script.”

We start to get up and I ask, “We didn’t even do anything yet, are we in trouble?”

Steph chuckles, “No. Martin just wants to make sure you’re all okay with the script.”

We follow Steph out of the trailer and to wherever Martin is.

Dallas is at my back the entire time and his presence almost feels…

comforting. I feel safe with him around.

I look up at him over my shoulder and when our eyes lock on each other, I realize that nobody is gonna be there to protect me from him while he’s protecting me from everyone else.

––––––––

THE LAST HOUR WAS spent in a meeting with Martin.

The man is clearly a genius and he’s very passionate about both us and our story.

There truly isn’t anyone else that we would feel comfortable trusting our story with.

After the meeting, Steph directed Brody over to the actress who would be playing a younger, child version of her for a few scenes, and she directed Aria back to her trailer to go over a few scenes with an acting coach.

Selene felt Aria needed some help with her acting abilities unlike Brody and myself.

Steph also encouraged me to return to my trailer and read over my lines and now here I am, opening the door to my trailer to enter.

Dallas is at my back and hasn’t once left my side all day so far.

It feels odd and almost like my shadow has grown over a foot and gained another person’s weight.

He hasn’t said a word to me though. He just stays at my back, silently, watching.

I open the door and he makes no move to follow me inside. “You coming?” I ask.

He reaches into his suit jacket and presses a button on his phone, bringing it to his ear, “I have to take a call, I’ll be in soon,” he answers before he takes a step away from the trailer.

He doesn’t go further than that and I decide to give him privacy as I duck my head inside and let the door close behind me.

I open the mini fridge and grab a bottle of water, twisting the cap off as I bring the bottle to my lips.

I lean my hip on the counter and turn around, just taking a minute to hydrate when my eyes catch on something.

I practically choke on my water as my eyes settle on a pink rose on the table next to my script.

There’s also another white envelope with a pink seal.

I start coughing around my water and my eyes water. I feel my body start to tremble.

I place the bottle on the counter and hesitate to reach for the note. I undo the small seal and withdraw the white card, reading:

Dear Ivory,

Did you really think a new security system could keep me away? Your attempts to shut me out are amusing but futile. I see you’ve found yourself a new protector. Does he make you feel safe? It’s sweet, really. But no one can keep us apart.

I watched you today on set. You’re even more captivating up close. This rose is a reminder that I’m always with you, no matter where you go. You can’t escape our connection.

Until next time, my darling

Yours, always.

I drop the note on the table and panic. Is he in here?

I look around the trailer anxiously, but there’s nowhere he could be hiding.

It isn’t big enough for that. Plus, he knows Dallas is looking after me so he knows Dallas would be in here.

I’m sure he was banking on me finding that note with Dallas here too.

He was in my trailer. He’s here. He’s on set and he could be anywhere.

He could be anyone. Nobody is innocent here.

How did he get on set? I panic internally and fear claws up my throat, or is that bile?

I haven’t eaten anything yet today so even if I do throw up, only water would come up.

Maybe some stomach acid. This is exactly why I’ve been losing my appetite. I knew he wasn’t finished with me yet.

I take a shaky step back, my legs suddenly feeling too weak to support my weight, and I hurry towards the door, tears in my eyes. I swing it open and find Dallas with his back to me, still on the phone at the foot of the trailer stairs.

“Dallas,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

He must hear something in my voice because he turns around immediately and looks up at my face. “Travis, I’ll call you back.” He hangs up the phone without another word and rushes up the stairs, stopping directly in front of me, “What’s wrong?”

I start to shiver, “He was in here.”

Dallas rushes past me and looks around the trailer as if searching for someone.

When he finds nobody, his eyes settle on the rose and the note.

He pauses for a moment, just staring at them on the table and his back is to me so I can’t see his face.

I want to see his face so I can get a good idea of what’s going on in his head, but even that would be a useless effort. Dallas is impossible to read.

He reaches for the note slowly and takes a moment to read it. When he’s done, he places it back down on the table with calm, steady hands. How is he so calm? He slowly turns to face me and his face is expressionless. “How are you so calm?” I ask, saying the exact question on my mind.

Dallas takes a step closer to me and I take a shaky breath.

He leans down, angling his face close to mine and the little hairs on the back of my neck seem to rise.

“I promise you, Ivory I am anything but calm.” He lowers his eyes to my trembling hands at my sides before he brings them back up to my face, “I’m going to comb through every second of security footage from this set and see what I can find.

I promise you, he will not enter your space again. ”

One single betraying tear rolls down my cheek, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

His nostrils flare in anger and his brows draw together. I see the fury in his eyes as he growls, “I know you don’t know me and my word doesn’t mean anything to you just yet, but it will.”

I take a step back, putting distance between us.

I don’t trust myself not to grab onto him like some meager child grabbing onto a parent or to oh I don’t know, kiss him.

I sit down on the barstool and suddenly my head starts to ache slightly and the room starts to spin.

My head must wobble because Dallas suddenly looks alert as he reaches for my face in his rough palms. He holds my head upright for a second before what looks like concern flashes behind his eyes only briefly.

God forbid Dallas ever shows emotion for more than a second. “Ivory, look at me. Are you okay?”

I nod, my lids taking longer around blinks. “I’m fine. I think I just got a little lightheaded.” I try to pull my face away from his hands but he holds me in place.

He assesses every square inch of my face before he releases me and takes a step back. “You’re stressed and probably dehydrated.”

The room comes back into focus and Dallas turns to grab me my water bottle.

He hands it to me and I accept it, chugging the whole bottle.

When I finish, my eyes land back on the table with the rose and the note and I feel my face pale.

Dallas takes a step to the side, blocking my view of the table.

“Don’t look at that, look at me,” he demands and oh my God did the sound of his voice saying those words get me. My stomach is doing backflips.

“I’m going to handle all of this. You have nothing to worry about,” he promises.

I nod, agreeing even though I know the promises he’s making are out of both of our control.