"I knew your mother," Cal said. "Lot of years ago. You were probably about three or four."

Before his mother had nearly died, before Roberto had been forced to hide them all. Before Roberto had murdered the lover Raeg had taken when he was barely twenty.

He wasn't talking about his mother. Selena Raegent was, as far as he was concerned, as much a part of the past as his father. Her mother's love had contributed to the death of a woman who hadn't deserved to die, just as Falcon's mother had.

He and his brother had walked away from them years ago, and they had stayed away. Roberto would stain his hands with the blood of the women his sons loved and never look back; they knew that, their mothers knew that. And their mothers agreed with it because, as they had argued, loving a woman came with trust and men could never understand nor accept that their love could be flawed, and they would trust those women even with secrets that could see other lives destroyed.

Lives such as that of the sister their parents protected now. It wasn't just their lives, their mothers had reminded him and Falcon, it was their sister's life as well.

"Raeg, there's no canceling this," Cal reiterated. "Summer would have canceled it if it was possible. She wouldn't have chanced you knowing her plans once the two of you left if she could have kept it from you."

"For God's sake, why are you pampering his poor little feelings?" Brody sneered, the youngest son obviously less than pleased with his father. "You know what the hell is going on in that house. Those two can't take a woman without the other helping. They're disrespectin' Summer every time they crawl into her bed with her."

Raeg wasn't a violent person. He'd been known to keep his calm even when staring down at the lover he hadn't been able to protect so very long ago. He'd learned young that losing his temper, to allow others to see his pain, was the worst mistake he could possibly make.

There was something about the words though, the sneering, smug-ass tone of voice that exploded through his head and had him moving before he realized what he was doing.

He swung around, grabbed Brody by the neck with a well-practiced grip that the younger man would have no idea how to break. And he tightened his fingers just enough to make breathing difficult, to assure the bastard that he could kill him in a heartbeat if that was what he wanted to do.

He could hear Bowe and Caleb yelling at him, and each time they thought to get too close, he tightened his grip on the other man's neck until they backed off.

"I could kill you between one heartbeat and the next," his voice was low, guttural, as he stared into Brody's eyes. "And trust me I will if I ever hear you say something like that in regards to your sister again."

"Fuck ... you..." Brody gasped, anger filling his expression, pure stubbornness tightening his jaw.

"Let him go, Raeg," Cal ordered from behind him. "Brody doesn't know your secrets, he only knows you're rippin' his sister's heart from her chest. How else is he supposed to feel? Yet, all three of her brothers have held back for her sake. I'm sure she'd expect you to do the same."

Yeah, she would. That didn't mean he should, but he knew he couldn't kill the jackass, no matter how badly he wanted to.

He loosened his hold slowly, finger by finger, until he was stepping away, staring at the other man warningly. This would be a very, very bad time for Brody to keep pushing him.

Turning to follow his brother, Raeg found himself facing Cal instead and the compassion that filled the older man's eyes.

"The heart wants what it wants," Cal stated gently. "And her heart's been set on the two of you for years. All of us have known it. And when you leave, her heart will no doubt go with you. Would you really deny her a little happiness after that? A husband that can stand by her side, give her the children she's always dreamed of having, and grow old beside her? Or is that love selfish, Raeg? Does she have to be just as lonely and as alone as you and Falcon will be?"

Not alone or lonely. She should be with him and Falcon. She shouldn't have to worry about her heart following them, they should be there, they should have the choice of being there with her. A choice that would only endanger her.

"Dragovich is a saint compared to what could strike out at her because of us," he rasped, realizing his heart was racing, his breathing was hard, heavy. "Staying isn't an option. It would show we care..."

It would show she was a weakness, a possible confidante. Someone who could one day learn their secrets, or be used against Raeg and Falcon to force them to reveal their secrets. Either way, it placed her in a monster's crosshairs.

"Then you should have been man enough to stay out of her bed," Cal stated softly. Understanding flickered across his expression. "Either way," he breathed out heavily, "it's too late to worry about it now, just as it's too late to cancel these parties. And once she marries, it will be too late to come back. Summer will always honor her vows, no matter the temptation to do otherwise, and you know that. So be sure when you walk away, that you're going to be able to keep from walkin' back."

"Go to hell," Raeg snapped, his lip lifting in a snarl of fury before he pushed past the other man and left the barn.

It might be too late to cancel the party, but it wasn't too late to cancel Summer's role in that party, he decided furiously. Summer would have to see that. She was an intelligent, logical woman. She'd understand that this party simply couldn't happen. God only knew who Dragovich had working for him. It would be someone the family trusted, and from what he'd seen that was damned near everyone they'd introduced him to in the past week he and Falcon had been there.

And it wouldn't be just one person. The Russian mobster knew how to hedge his bets and how to plan for contingencies. When the first attack against Summer hadn't succeeded, he would have already known how and where he was attacking the second time. Dragovich was just waiting for that time to arrive.

Stepping onto the porch leading to the front door of the Calhouns' home, he ignored the two armed men who sat with all apparent laziness in the chairs positioned close to the door. They didn't speak and neither did he. He pulled open the storm door and stepped inside, his gaze moving automatically to the living room where Summer sat in a padded rocker, watching the tiny face of the child she slowly rocked and hummed to.

The sight of it was like a punch to the gut and a fist to his heart. This was what he and Falcon could have had if life had been different. The woman both of them loved and a child conceived by one of them.

God, how he ached to give her that child, he thought painfully. To see her growing round, the love she felt for that child and for the men she shared her life with glowing within her face.

Moving silently across the room, he stopped just in front of her and waited as her head lifted, her expression causing that inner darkness he always lived with to howl silently in protest of ever letting her go.

"We need to go home, now," he told her softly, loath to disturb the babe sleeping in her arms.

Indecision and wariness flickered over her face. "I wasn't finished..."

"Now," he repeated. The almost silent anger that burned inside was an alien sensation to him.

He never burned with fury. Everything stayed contained, controlled, carefully restrained. Nothing else was acceptable. He couldn't allow himself to let his anger free. He never allowed that. If he did, he may go hunting and commit a sin so unpardonable that ... He cringed at the thought of it.

The sin of murdering his father.

Moving carefully, Summer rose to her feet, her gaze wary as she glanced at him a final time before walking slowly from the living room to the kitchen.

Raeg waited for her by the front door, listening to her as she told her family good-bye and tried to ignore her mother's protest that they had plans to finalize.

Plans to finalize. Plans for the damned parties geared to finding her a husband and a father for the children she would one day have. He wanted to curse it, rail over it and declare it would only happen over his dead body. Unfortunately, he couldn't stop it and he knew it. That didn't mean he could allow her to risk herself by attending any of the damned events, until Dragovich was stopped. That he would definitely keep from happening.

One way or the other.

Chapter.

FOURTEEN.

She could tell they knew about the parties.

The second Summer saw Raeg's expression, saw the emotions roiling in his eyes and darkening them, she knew her secret was out.

There was a strange sense of relief in the knowledge that she no longer had to worry about telling them. Her time had been running out and she'd known it. The first party was in just days, the afternoon barbeque and social to allow everyone to meet and become familiar with one another would have been impossible to attend without them being aware she was gone, she'd kept telling herself mockingly.

Now, they knew. Now there was just the battle of wills to get through, and hadn't she battled with them enough in the past years over one thing or another to know what to expect? The only difference was that she'd never had to battle both of them at once.

Raeg didn't speak as they walked to the house and neither did she. Her chest ached with the knowledge that they could no longer ignore the fact that life would go on if they survived this battle with Dragovich.

Life would go on, they would leave and return to DC, and she'd be left here with nothing more than the memories of them to haunt her home.

Stepping into the house with Raeg, she winced as he slammed the door behind them, then stalked past her to the bar.

Falcon sat on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, a half-filled glass of whisky held in one hand, his pale blue eyes like chips of ice glowing in the savage features of his face.

He didn't speak as she walked into the room, her gaze going between him and Raeg, the silence between them so thick she felt as though she were trying to swim through it.

God, it hurt, she thought. She'd had no idea how much this would actually hurt. Facing them, knowing they knew that she had every intention of living, of building a life after they were gone. Though, that wasn't exactly true. The plan had been to build a life period, to ignore what she wanted and go after what she could have.

That was before they'd touched her, before they'd shown her how good it was being a part of them, being their lover as well as their friend.

"The two of you act as though I've betrayed you," she said when neither of them spoke.

Falcon lifted his drink and took a healthy swallow, not even grimacing at the sharp burn of the whisky, never taking his eyes off her.

She'd never seen him look so cold, so hard. Despite his fiery nature, the pale blue color of his eyes always gave the impression of implacable emotionlessness that had always fooled the casual observer.

She'd never been fooled though, but neither had she ever seen that ice encompass even his whole expression. She would have expected him to be cursing in every language he knew, railing at her, demanding. The fact that he wasn't caused her throat to thicken with tears. The only time she'd ever seen him not give into that temper was the night she'd been forced to kill Gia.

"You can't go to these parties, Summer." It was Raeg who spoke, but he wasn't ordering her, he wasn't commanding her. His voice was hoarse, his expression tormented, as he stood at the bar staring into the glass he'd just drank from. "You know it's too dangerous."

She couldn't do this.

It hurt so bad. They weren't screaming at her, they weren't being confrontational, they weren't giving her a fight. There was no place to expend all the emotion building inside her, ripping her apart.

She couldn't cry. She wouldn't let herself cry because it would only hurt all of them more, and none of them deserved that.

"It's too-"

"Late to cancel," Raeg pointed out, appearing reasonable, even sounding reasonable. "It's not too late to make the decision not to attend."

That was Raeg, she thought, no matter the situation, he managed to remain logical. If only she could do the same.

She'd actually thought of not attending, actually discussed it with her family, but eventually rejected the idea.

"It won't make a difference," she breathed out, her voice rough as she pulled her hair over her shoulder and slowly began braiding the long length.

That calmed her. It was a crutch, one she rarely used, but the act of concentrating on the intricate mermaid braid kept her focused, kept her from giving into whatever tormented her, whatever hurt her.

She was aware of Falcon following the movements of her fingers, his gaze brooding, his expression never shifting from the hard, granite lines they were composed in.

"Why not?" The snap in Raeg's voice caused her to flinch. It was like a lash of dark, bitter emotion slapping against her senses.

"Dragovich isn't going to attack a crowd, it's too risky. Especially a crowd of military and law enforcement personnel. It would be suicide," she pointed out. "He'll strike when I least expect it instead."

"You wouldn't expect it at one of those parties," Raeg argued before tossing back the rest of his drink, then pouring another.

"Actually, everyone has been alerted to the fact that I've been targeted. I wouldn't allow anyone to walk in unknowing, Raeg. I'm not that cruel nor am I that stupid."

No one had backed out of the invitation though, most of the men had actually informed her family that they'd be coming armed, just in case.

"Don't do this, Summer." It was Falcon who spoke, the Spanish flavor of his voice actually more pronounced now.

Like Raeg, he stared at his drink rather than at her, his expression hardening further despite the fact that she hadn't imagined it could get harder.

She worked at the braid desperately now, the tightness in her chest agonizing as she stared between them. She couldn't remember a time when they had avoided looking at her while they disagreed. Falcon always yelled in several different languages, while Raeg became insulting and sarcastic in one. They weren't displaying either characteristic at the moment. They were so self-contained it was frightening.

"This isn't about Dragovich," she finally stated, abandoning the braid when it was only half-finished. "It's not about the potential of him attacking, because all three of us know the chances of that happening are practically nonexistent. This is about the reason for the parties. Let's admit it."

If they knew about the parties, then they knew about the reason for them. Everyone knew about the reason for them-to introduce Summer to the men her family considered a suitable match for her.

She wasn't the only woman that would be there. The guest list was evenly matched between the sexes, with no expectations where Summer was concerned. It was simply an opportunity for her and the other unmarried male and female guests to meet and get to know one another. It wasn't the first time such events had been arranged, it was actually quite common among the social set her parents were a part of.

Raeg and Falcon weren't speaking now, they were concentrating on their drinks, glaring into their glasses after sipping at the liquor, the tension practically humming around them.

"Friday's barbeque is Aunt Bee's," she informed them quietly. "It's about an hour from here. We'll need to leave about three in the afternoon and we'll be there until around midnight. When we return, Caleb, Bowe, and Brody will come to the house with us and make certain it's still secure, though several of the men Caleb once fought with will be watching the house while we're gone. Everything's going to be fine."

At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Everything would be fine. And if Dragovich did decide to make a move, they'd be alerted before they returned to the house.

Either way, it would be dealt with and Dragovich would be neutralized.

Falcon lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers then, and Summer barely smothered the cry that lay trapped in her throat. The agony she felt ripping her heart apart lay in his expression, in that deceptively icy gaze.

"Don't do this, Belle," he asked, his voice low, deeper than normal. "Not while Dragovich is still a threat."

Not while they were there, not while they had to watch her socialize with a potential future husband. She understood that far more than they knew.

"Would the timing matter?" she asked painfully. "It wouldn't, Falcon. And I'll hate being there, I'll hate knowing you're there, hate knowing you're aware of why I'm there. This way though, I can't fool myself. I won't have the option of believing the fantasy could be reality or that you'll stick around once Dragovich isn't a threat any longer. This way, we can't hide from the truth. Right?"

Raeg tossed back the rest of his drink and slapped the glass down on the bar, the crack of sound causing her to flinch again. Raeg didn't normally show his temper, she reminded herself. Just as Falcon didn't remain quiet and aloof when he was pissed. None of this was normal, none of it was how she'd imagined it would be at all.

He was shattering on the inside. Falcon had never felt himself breaking apart, piece by piece, before. Not even the night he'd believed his and Raeg's mothers had been murdered, and not when he'd learned years later that they hadn't been. None of the betrayals in his life had ever shattered him, but this ... this was killing him. Ripping at his guts and slicing into his chest with agonizing realization.

And all he could do was sit there, desperately searching for an argument, a way to keep this from happening, all the while knowing the only way to stop it wasn't a choice he could make.

He'd known walking away from her was going to feel like splitting himself in half, but he hadn't expected the tearing sensation to begin even before it was time to leave her.

He finished his drink, not even feeling the burn he knew should be tearing its way to his belly. Hell, it was his third drink-he should be nearing that point where everything felt numb. Nothing felt numb though. Each pulse of blood through his body was a lash of agony resonating through his senses, and he wasn't quite certain how to handle it.

If he was hurting, Summer was hurting worse. The second she pulled her hair over her shoulder and began to form the intricate braid, the knowledge of her pain struck at his chest.

Her eyes were like wounded violets in the stark features of her face, and she seemed unable to hide the pain that filled her features.

The conflict she felt more than matched his own and made him murderous. It made him dream of ripping apart the man who would make Summer pay for the fact that he and Raeg loved her.