Page 23 of The Burdens We Share (Satan’s Angels #3)

“It’s Sam. He’s gotten into a lot of trouble. It’s bad, Ivory. He’s never been in this much trouble before. He’s just so out of control, I don’t even-”

I cut her off, “Okay, Mom, slow down. What’s going on with Sam?”

Mom takes a deep breath before she explains, “He was arrested for shoplifting and the store owner wants to press charges. I also got a call from the school today that he hasn’t been there in two weeks. Two weeks, Ivory! How did I not know?”

Because you’re caught up pretending to be twenty again when you have a kid that needs to be raised still, I think to myself.

But that’s not what I say. No, because the perfect daughter, Ivory Aslan, would never say such a thing to her loving and very dedicated mother.

“What do you need me to do?” It’s always something with her.

This is a pattern with my mother. Sam gets into trouble or does something he shouldn’t be doing, and instead of reprimanding and parenting him, she calls me to deal with him.

In a way, it probably makes him worse because he knows she won’t do anything about him getting into trouble and she doesn’t pay enough attention to him.

“Can you come here, please? I really need your help,” she pleads.

I sigh and want to punch a hole through the table in front of me, “Mom, I’m in the middle of filming a movie. I really can’t leave.”

She gasps like I just hit her, “Ivory! I’m your mother and I need your help. Doesn’t this take priority? Doesn’t family matter to you?”

Here we go with the guilt-tripping. “Of course it does, Mom. I’ll talk to the director and see if he can film Aria and Brody’s scenes for a few days.

” As I make the promise I realize I’m not alone.

Fuck. Dallas would have to come with me.

How would I explain his presence to my mother when she doesn’t know I have a stalker in the first place?

“But Mom, is it okay if I bring someone?”

She perks up, “A man?”

The blush from earlier finally finds my cheeks, “Yes.”

She squeals, “Tell me everything! Is he handsome? Oh who am I kidding, of course he is. You have great taste in men, just like your mom.”

I groan, “Mom, totally not the time to talk about this. In fact, I have to go. I have to go tell the director I need to leave town for a few days.”

Mom huffs, “Boring! But fine. Keep me updated. Thank you again, honey. You’re the best daughter ever!”

I sigh, “Thanks,” I try to force enthusiasm into my tone, but it doesn’t work well for me. “I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up and drop my head onto the table. What am I getting myself into?

“What was that about?” Dallas asks.

I turn my head to meet his eyes, resting my cheek on the table. “I have to go to Staten Island. My brother got into trouble and my mom needs me to handle it.”

He frowns, “She can’t handle a sixteen-year-old?”

“No. Her lack of parenting becomes my burden to bear. Which also becomes yours because you’ll have to come with me,” I wince.

I pity Dallas because he has to be around my family.

My mom is going to harass him. I just know she’s gonna grill him as if we’re there for a visit and not to reprimand her child.

Dallas looks amused, “Taking me home to meet your family already? What’s next, a marriage proposal?”

My eyes widen and my jaw nearly drops, “Did you…just make a joke?”

His amused expression immediately falls as if he realized his own mistake.

He covers it up with a gruff, “No.” But it was real, I heard it with my own ears and saw it with my own eyes.

Would I be a fool to say that there could actually be a fun person under that thick armor of stern expressions and empty eyes?

Maybe there’s more to Dallas than I thought.

I can’t know for certain, but I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t want to know.

––––––––

“THANK YOU AGAIN, SELENE,” I say graciously from where I stand on the Satan’s Angels private jet stairs. Selene made a few phone calls and managed to get the plane ready for us in just a few hours. She even had her assistant book our hotel and get us a driver for when we landed.

Dallas stands behind me, a couple of stairs down. We both look down at Selene from where she stands on the tarmac. Selene nods, “Of course. You know I get shit done and make things happen.”

“Oh, I know,” my voice is thick with admiration. I seriously don’t know how Selene does it all and how she’s managed it all for years.

She preens, “Good. Now get your ass on that plane and sort your family shit out so we can get back to work on this movie.”

Selene managed to schedule all of Brody and Aria’s independent scenes for my time away so that production wouldn’t slow down or be impacted. I nod, “I will. Thank you, Selene.”

Her eyes soften, “No thanks needed. But please take care of yourself.” Her voice has a worried edge to it.

I give her a reassuring smile, “I will.”

Selene focuses on Dallas, “Please hold her to that promise.”

Dallas responds immediately, conviction in his voice, “You don’t have to worry about her. She’s in good hands.”

Selene and Dallas exchange a knowing look that makes me feel like some kind of outsider and I feel butterflies swarm my stomach at his words.

I have to tell myself to relax because what he said was professional.

It isn’t personal. I’m in good hands because that’s his job.

Not because he’s interested in me or liked kissing me.

Am I interested in him? Because I know I sure liked kissing him.

I quickly usher myself onto the plane with Dallas at my back.

I’m nervous about bringing him home with me because I know my mother is going to assume he’s my boyfriend and not a bodyguard.

I also know I can’t correct her because that would require me to tell her that I have a stalker and then that’s a whole other mess to clean up.

Once Dallas and I are seated on the plane across from each other, I blurt out, “You need to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” Dallas agrees, with no emotion on his face.

What? That’s it? He’s not even going to ask why? “Don’t you want to know why?”

He unlocks his phone and starts typing away. He doesn’t look up to answer, “I don’t need to know why.” He seems relaxed in a strange way.

“So you’re okay with pretending? It doesn’t bother you that I asked?”

He looks up at me, “Why would that bother me?”

“Because we aren’t actually dating,” I state the blatantly obvious.

Dallas expels a small breath that sounds an awful lot like a laugh and I swear the look on his face has me questioning whether or not I’m missing something.