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  Aberrate

  Unpersuadable Book 2

  Wendi Wilson

  Copyright © 2019 by Wendi Wilson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Art: We Got You Covered Book Designs

  Created with Vellum

  For you, my readers. Without you, none of this matters.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Thank You

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Wendi Wilson

  1

  Fifty-two days.

  That’s how long it’s been since I last saw them. Since our last touch. Our last kiss.

  Oh, we’ve talked on the phone, texted, video chatted. Hell, they even wrote me letters. An envelope came last week, two hand-written pages folded neatly inside. Each sheet, written in different handwriting with different colored ink, filled with words that made my heart beat faster with every line. Sentences describing their desire to see me, to hold me, to be together, the three of us, once more.

  Fifty-two days is a long time to be apart from those you care about. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and there’s no doubt in my mind that the statement is true.

  And that’s what scares me.

  When Silas and Slade Madsen asked me to be their girlfriend, to enter into a three-way relationship and take them both as lovers, I had my doubts. Not just about the nature of the relationship itself, though, it’s true, it took me a while to wrap my head around it. It’s unconventional, sure, but the strangeness of it diminished quickly. Wrapped in their arms, I could barely put two words together, much less debate the social and moralistic recriminations of engaging in polyamory.

  No, I’m not scared to be with them because it’s untraditional. My real fear is one born of doubt. We met and developed an attraction under the most stressful of situations. I was a traitor to my family and my church, on the run and showing up with a dire warning for my best friend, Savanna. First, Savanna’s parents then my sister were kidnapped, forcing us into two consecutive rescue operations. Hiding out in motels, fearing for our safety and for those we love, and meeting our slimy, predatory president… it’s a lot.

  Now, after fifty two days of living a normal life, finishing our senior year and earning that diploma, I’m having second thoughts. What if what we shared was a side effect of the danger and drama, and not based in anything real? What if doesn’t have two legs to stand on in a normal, everyday setting?

  Compounding my fears is the fact that we’re heading to college. That campus will be filled with beautiful, educated women vying for Silas’s and Slade’s attentions. Smart, athletic, funny and gorgeous… the girls are going to be all over them.

  They may just decide sharing me isn’t what they really want. I wouldn’t blame them. Why would they settle for us when they could go out, meet girls who aren’t damaged like me, find love and settle down in more traditional relationships?

  “Hey.”

  Savanna’s sudden appearance in the doorway startles me from my internal mini-freak-out. I realize I’ve been standing over my suitcase, folding and refolding the same shirt for the last ten minutes. I smooth it and place it in with my other clothes as I answer.

  “Hey.”

  “You need any help with that?” she inquires, but her eyes ask so much more.

  “I’m good,” I say, answering both questions at once.

  After her parents and Grace called it a night and went to bed last night, we stayed up to watch a movie. When it became obvious to her that I was distracted and not really watching it, she turned it off and waited patiently for me to open up and tell her what was going on.

  I spilled my guts, telling her all my doubts and fears. Fear of what the future holds for me and the Madsen brothers. Doubt that their feelings for me are based in reality, and not some psychological response to tense situations. Apprehension that my feelings for them are based on that same stress. Worry that one, or both of them will dump me like yesterday’s trash when they discover all their options on campus.

  “Lizzie, you’re strangling that poor pair of socks,” she says, stepping further into the room and swinging the door closed behind her.

  My fingers unclench and the socks I’ve been twisting drop into my suitcase. I close my eyes and fill my lungs to capacity, letting the breath out slowly. When my eyelids flutter back up, she’s sitting on my bed. Her eyes are filled with compassion and it nearly breaks me.

  “I’m good,” I repeat, cringing at the uncertainty in my voice.

  “They’re good guys and they really like you, Lizzie,” she says. “They won’t hurt you.”

  “They don’t know me,” I whisper, then raise my voice a notch. “And I don’t really know them. We met and had this whirlwind romance for what? A week? It’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous.”

  “Well, if you are, then so am I. Look how quickly I fell for the Pattons.” She smiles, her face getting all dreamlike as it does every time she talks about her boys. “Besides,” she continues, her face growing serious, “you guys have been talking almost every day since we came home. It’s been more than a month.”

  “Fifty-two days,” I say.

  The corner of her mouth ticks up at the admission that I’ve been counting the days. The smirk widens into a full smile as she shoves her hand against my shoulder.

  “I doubt there’s much you don’t know about them after having hour-long conversations every day for fifty-two days.”

  I bite my lip but it’s no use. I can’t stop the corners of my mouth from turning up. She’s right. After hours and hours of phone calls and video chats, thousands of text messages and two hand-written letters, I’ve never felt bored or detached. My heart does a little skip-hop every time my phone rings.

  And I know Silas and Slade are eager to see me again. I just hope I live up to their memories.

  “Oh! I almost forgot, I have news,” Savanna exclaims, bumping the heel of her hand against her forehead.

  “What is it?” I ask, folding a pair of jeans.

  “We got the house!”

  “We did?” I squeal.

  Her head bobs up and down, her grin infectious. “Yep. We get the keys tomorrow.”

  She leaves after that, and I sit down on the edge of my bed, my thoughts running rampant. It has been more than two weeks since we received the news that would change everything. Everything for the Pattons and Savanna. Even for me.

  Sixteen days ago, Jett got a call from the warden at the federal prison where his uncle was serving his time. Brother Earl, for some strange reason, had been transferred from a private cell to general population. His first night there, he was the recipient of a handmade shank to the gut. The sharpened point of the toothbrush handle pierced an artery, causing massive internal bleeding.

  He
was dead long before the guards found him.

  As suspicious as the whole thing sounded, it was compounded by the fact that President Worth visited the facility the same day Brother Earl was transferred. Though we have no proof, the two events are obviously related. At this point, we can only speculate, but it looks as though the president of the United States had Earl killed. Knowing we’d never find out the reason for the transfer and subsequent murder, we concentrated on how Brother Earl’s death affected us.

  As his only living relatives, Jett, Wyatt, and Beckett were set to inherit his house. They immediately balked, saying they wanted nothing of his, but I convinced them to think it through. If they could sell it, they would have money to live on when we go to college. That meant getting their own place instead of bunking with the Madsens.

  I assumed that things would take time, that the courts would tie the property up in probate for a while, but I forgot what a force those boys are, with their Alt abilities. The house and land were signed over to them within the week. They put it on the market and convinced a young family of four that they had to have it.

  And by convinced, I mean persuaded. I wasn’t too pleased when I heard about that part, but the boys convinced me the family loved the property anyway, they just gave them a little push in the right direction. Thanks to the triplets, the family’s loan was pushed through, funded and recorded within a couple of days and they were handed the keys a few days ago.

  Because Brother Earl bought the house seventeen years ago, what was left of his mortgage equated to only a fraction of its current worth. In other words, the boys are rolling in dough. And I mean hundreds of thousands of dollars.

  I had assumed the four of them— Jett, Wyatt, Beckett and Savanna— would move in together. I was a little concerned about my own housing, having zero help from my parents and no job, but I knew I would figure it out. Turns out, I didn’t have to.

  The boys applied to be tenants of a house near campus, a behemoth of a home that boasts six bedrooms… enough room for the four of them, the two Madsen brothers, and me. I was so touched when they told me their plans, for all of us to be roommates as we enter the next phase of our lives, I nearly cried.

  So, here I am, packing my stuff so I can leave Savanna’s parents’ house to move into a new home in Connecticut, eight hundred fifty miles away, with friends I made three months ago and two boyfriends whom I haven’t seen in fifty-two days.

  On top of all of that, I’m leaving my little sister behind. Last time I did that, our parents handed her over to madman to use as leverage against me, giving him carte blanche to do whatever he wanted to her to keep me in line. A shiver runs down my spine just thinking about what could have happened, what would have happened had Savanna and the boys not helped me rescue her.

  Of course, things are different now. Brother Earl is dead and my parents are no longer in the picture. Thanks to some well-planned persuasion, the courts stripped my mom and dad of their parental rights and gave full legal custody of Grace to Savanna’s parents. And it couldn’t have worked out better.

  Grace is thriving and happy. Mr. and Mrs. James dote on her, on both of us really, and treat us like family. She’ll start eighth grade in a few weeks, and Mrs. James has already taken her shopping to get all the supplies and clothes she could possibly need or want.

  I talked to Grace a few days ago about the fact that I’ll be leaving her here to go to college. I smile as I recall her response.

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  “Lizzie, I’m almost thirteen years old. I’ll be fine.”

  “Grace…”

  “Roman and Angela want me here, Lizzie. I feel freer than I ever did at home. Free of the drama. Free of secret agendas. Free of the church.”

  “Roman and Angela?”

  “What? They practically ordered me to call them by their first names.”

  I chuckle under my breath, wondering how long it took Grace to feel comfortable calling them that. We’ve had genteel southern manners beat into us practically since birth, and calling an adult anything besides Mr. or Mrs. has always been the height of inappropriateness. Our mother would pitch a fit if she heard Grace call them Roman and Angela.

  I bet that makes it all the more satisfying for her.

  I flip the lid to my luggage over and zip it up before pulling it off the bed. It hits the floor with a dull thud against the carpet, and I drag it across the room to rest next to Savanna’s suitcase. I turn and look around, staring at the room I’ve shared with her for the last fifty-two days. The corners of my mouth turn up.

  Instead of sharing a room with Grace, like I assumed, I ended up in Savanna’s room. She insisted she wanted to give Grace some space, a chance to get used to being in the house without me there to prepare her for the day we leave for college, but I know the truth.

  She’s a terrible liar. I saw it in her eyes. Heard it in the tremble in her voice as she spoke.

  Her desire to have me room with her had nothing to with Grace. Savanna is an only child. She never had any sisters or brothers and, thanks to Fiona and me, she never had any close friends to have sleepovers with. She wanted me in this room with her so, for a little while before we start our lives as adults, we could be kids. Staying up late, gossiping and daydreaming, whispering our truths to each other until sleep dragged us under every night.

  This time has formed a bond between us. We’re no longer just friends. We’re sisters. Always and forever.

  2

  The road trip to Connecticut is taking a thousand years. It’s also zipping by way too fast.

  As excited as I am to start the next phase of my life, a multitude of other emotions assail me with every breath I take. Guilt, for leaving my sister. Anger at my parents for putting us in this situation. Fear of the unknown and where this journey will take me.

  And anxiety over the prospect of seeing Silas and Slade again.

  I’m alone in my car, Savanna having opted to ride with the boys for this last leg of the journey. She’d been with me for a lot of the trip, but after our last stop for gas, I encouraged her to hop in the truck with her boys. I could tell she wanted to be with them and assured her I was fine by myself.

  I need time alone to think, anyway. My thoughts swirl, a cyclone of anticipation and dread. Going to college and making my own choices. Will I make the right ones? Living in a big house with my best friends. Will we be comfortable? Or run out of money and live on ramen noodles and instant coffee? I shudder at the thought.

  Will Silas and Slade take one look at me, realize there’s really nothing special about me, and end our relationship, making things at our new house uncomfortable for everyone and miserable for me?

  I blink as the black truck I’m following pulls to the side of the road. My head swivels around, its spastic movements making me dizzy. Or maybe I’m dizzy because I’m holding my breath. I take in a big gulp of oxygen, my eyes landing on the front door of the Madsen house.

  How did we get here so fast?

  Movement pulls my gaze as Savanna and the Pattons climb down from the truck. I should get out of the car, but my body is frozen. Savanna looks over and waves for me to get out, but I just stare at her, unmoving.

  A shout sounds from the house, making my head whip to the side. There they are. My breath hitches and my heart pounds as the objects of my anxiety and affection bound out of the house. They’re running, barely sparing the others a wave as they bum-rush my car.

  Silas yanks open the door and Slade is suddenly inside the car with me, the orange scent of his shampoo filling my nostrils as he leans across me to unsnap my seatbelt. Within a blink, I’m out of the car and in his arms, his soft lips brushing across mine.

  Then I’m free for a millisecond before Silas’s arms engulf me. My face burrows into his chest of its own accord, my nose inhaling his woodsy cologne as he whispers sweet words in my hair, telling me how much he missed me.

  The tension I’ve been carrying for the last several days flows
out of me, my body sagging with relief. Thank God Silas is holding me up or I’d be a puddle of goo on the ground.

  Silas pulls away, his steadying hands remaining on my shoulders as his eyes roam over me. Slade is beside him, his eyes following the same path as his twin’s, his upturned mouth showing off the deep dimples I love so much.

  Finally, I smile. I can’t even remember why I was so worried to come here. Pressure in my chest grows as my heart fills with warmth and happiness and satisfaction. This is where I belong. This is home.

  “Hey, guys.”

  Savanna’s voice pulls their attention from me, and Silas’s hands drop from my shoulders as they turn to greet her and the Patton triplets. After giving her a quick hug and exchanging fist bumps and back pats with the boys, Silas and Slade flank me. Wrapping their hands around each of mine, they shuffle forward, leading us toward the house.

  Half way up the front walk, my steps freeze and I pull them to a halt. Twin questioning expressions form on their faces as they turn to look at me. I feel the others amble up behind us as I speak quickly in low tones.

  “What about your parents? Do they, uh, know?”

  “Know what?” Slade asks.

  Silas pops him on the shoulder with the back of his hand before motioning toward me. “She means about us, dumbass.”

  Slade’s eyes widen as dawning hits him. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips, his grip on my hand tightening. His head moves, a single, tight nod.

  “They do.”