25. Chapter 25
Reyes didn't even blink when Andre placed the badge on her desk. Her expression was that of a woman who'd been expecting this. "Effective today," Andre said, his voice steady despite the weight of the moment. "I appreciate everything you did. All of it."
"I know you do." Reyes picked up the badge, her fingers tracing its edges. She didn't drag out the moment with a speech. "You did good work here, Jefferson. Better than most of the people who stay."
"I stayed as long as the job needed me to."
"I know that too." She placed the badge in her drawer, closed it with a soft click, and that was the whole ceremony. "Go be happy. Try not to be a stranger. And tell your new friends that I expect my city to remain safe. There's still a job to do."
Two weeks later, Andre found himself in a state of limbo, still undecided about what he missed about it, if anything at all. He suspected the answer was going to turn out to be nothing at all.
The safehouse's back lot had been transformed into a makeshift party venue.
Fairy lights twinkled overhead, casting a warm glow on the gathering below, lights nobody remembered agreeing to string up, and yet there they were.
He was pretty sure Jude was the culpret.
The boy was so soft and sweet. Somebody (Nate, probably, Nate had opinions about things like this) had even procured actual flowers.
Spring had finally graced Detroit with its presence after teasing it for three weeks straight.
The air was warm enough that jackets had been shrugged off and left forgotten, and the river shimmered under the early evening light in a way it hadn't bothered to all winter.
Elijah held court from a lawn chair like it was a throne, his shoulder still stiff enough that he wasn't fighting anyone for the good seat.
"I want it on record," he announced to nobody and everybody, his voice carrying across the yard, "that I got shot before any of this and still didn't get to watch the actual ending."
"You watched the after-party." Jack, beside him, didn't look up from the grill he'd apparently appointed himself in charge of. His tone was casual, as if they were discussing the weather. "That's the good part anyway."
"I wanted to see the look on his face." Elijah's voice held a note of petulance, like a child denied a treat.
"His face looked like a dead man's face, babe. You didn't miss much." Jack's voice was nonchalant, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as smoke from a cigar. The air carried the scent of grilled meat and the faint, sweet aroma of blooming flowers.
Elijah responded with a playful scowl, his hand darting out to snatch a bottle cap from the table.
He flung it at Jack with a swift flick of his wrist. Jack, ever the showman, caught it without even turning around, his hand shooting out in a practiced move that spoke volumes about their camaraderie.
Andre found Marcus by the water, his silhouette framed by the shimmering river.
He held a beer loosely in one hand, the amber liquid barely touched.
His gaze was fixed on the yard, his eyes reflecting the twinkling fairy lights overhead.
There was a quiet satisfaction in his posture, like an artist admiring his masterpiece.
"Reyes send you off okay?" Marcus asked, his voice barely above a whisper, blending with the soft lapping of the river against the shore.
"She told me to tell my new friends there was still work to do." Andre leaned into Marcus' side, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. The warmth radiating from Marcus was comforting, familiar. "I think that's as close to sentimental as that woman gets."
"I like her," Marcus admitted, his gaze still fixed on the yard.
"Everybody likes her. That's the problem." Andre pressed a quick kiss to Marcus' temple, an intimate gesture shared under the soft glow of the fairy lights. His gaze followed Marcus', taking in Elijah's animated gestures and Trip's calm efficiency at the grill. "It's a good evening, Whitfield."
"It's the first one in years I haven't had to earn." Marcus' voice was soft, filled with a quiet relief that echoed in the stillness of the evening.
Before Andre could respond, a sudden commotion near the gate drew their attention. Nate's voice rose above the hum of conversation, his tone higher than usual. Underneath it, Jude's laughter rang out, abruptly cut off by a surprised gasp.
"Oh," Marcus said, already setting his beer down on the grass. His eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Here we go."
Nate had Jude by both hands, his fingers interlaced with Jude's in a grip that was both firm and gentle.
He was already down on one knee, the cool blades of grass pressing into his denim-clad leg.
The entire yard had fallen into a hush, the only sound being the soft murmur of the river nearby, its rhythmic lapping against the shore a soothing backdrop to the momentous occasion.
"I had a speech," Nate began, his voice wavering slightly on the third word, betraying his nervousness.
His eyes were locked onto Jude's, a mix of love and apprehension swirling within their depths.
"I wrote a whole speech, Jude, and I can't remember a single line of it right now, so you're just getting this instead.
" He took a deep breath, steadying himself.
"I love you. I've loved you since before I had the sense to say so. Marry me?"
Jude's hands were trembling within Nate's grasp, his eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. "Yes. God, yes, obviously yes," he managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper yet carrying the weight of his emotions.
The yard erupted into cheers and applause.
Zain let out a whoop that startled a bird out of the tree line, its wings flapping in surprise as it took flight.
Elijah, still stuck in his lawn chair, pounded the armrest with the flat of his hand hard enough to make the whole thing rock.
His laughter echoed across the yard, a joyous sound that added to the celebratory atmosphere.
Marcus's arm found its way around Andre's waist, warm and solid. Andre let himself lean into it without checking who was watching because there wasn't anyone left to hide this from anymore. Their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, their shared happiness radiating off them in waves.
"Wait." Seth's voice cut through the noise, flat and genuinely confused. "Are we doing proposals now? Is this a thing?"
"It's a thing today, apparently," Nate replied, still on one knee, still holding Jude's hands as if he hadn't quite processed the 'yes' yet. His voice was filled with awe, his eyes never leaving Jude's face.
Trip cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention.
Beside him, Ghost held up his left hand without any particular ceremony, a plain band set with baguette diamonds, waiting for the matching wedding band catching the last of the afternoon light.
"We did this in Frbruary," Ghost said, his voice matter-of-fact. "I assumed everyone knew."
"You never told anyone," Jack called from the grill, his tone teasing.
"I told Trip. Trip's the one I was asking." Ghost turned his hand over, then compared his to the matching one for Trip, examining the ring as if it were a fascinating artifact rather than a symbol of commitment. "I didn't realize it needed a press release."
Trip, laughing, pulled him in by the back of the neck and kissed his temple. Ghost let him, unbothered, already looking back at his ring as if the kiss was a minor interruption to a more interesting observation.
"Dude." Seth was staring at the ring, at Nate still kneeling, at the general chaos of the yard. He looked like a man who hadn't expected to need to do any math today. "Zain and I went to the courthouse like Four months ago."
The yard went quiet again, but this time it was a different kind of silence - one filled with surprise and anticipation.
"You what?" Nate's voice echoed in the sudden silence, a note of disbelief threading through his words.
"Went to the courthouse. Got hitched." Seth's response was nonchalant, as if he were merely commenting on the weather. "Weddings are a load of bullshit, but hey, you do you."
"You've been married for four months and said nothing?" Nate's voice rose in incredulity, his eyes wide as he stared at Seth.
"Didn't come up." Seth shrugged, his casual demeanor in stark contrast to the shock rippling through the crowd.
Nate turned his gaze to Zain, who was calmly sipping his beer, seemingly oblivious to the uproar his revelation had caused. "Who was your witness?" Nate asked, clinging to the question like a lifeline in a sea of confusion.
Zain shrugged nonchalantly. "Who knows? Some clerk. Guy signed his name, we left."
"You don't know who witnessed your own wedding?" Nate's voice was filled with disbelief.
"It's a courthouse, Nate, not a cathedral." Zain finished his beer with a final swig. "Paperwork's paperwork."
From his lawn chair, Elijah burst into laughter so hearty he had to clutch his ribs. "That's so you," he managed between gasps for breath, "that it's honestly kind of beautiful."
"Thank you," Zain responded with a nod, and Seth mirrored the gesture as if that settled the matter once and for all.
The gate buzzer interrupted the stunned silence that had fallen over the yard. Ghost, still engrossed in examining his own ring, ambled over without being asked. He returned a minute later with an absurdly large arrangement of white flowers and a keg balanced on a hand truck behind him.
"Flowers are from Bell," Ghost announced, reading the card attached to the bouquet. "No note, just his name, like we wouldn't know who sent a floral arrangement the size of a Buick."
"And the keg?" Nate asked, his voice still tinged with shock.
Ghost pulled a card off the keg, read it, and let out a sound that was almost a laugh. "'Bell is a busybody,'" he read aloud. "'Congrats to... whomever. S.'"
"He doesn't even know what he's congratulating," Andre pointed out.
"Doesn't matter." Marcus was smiling, the kind of easy, unguarded smile that Andre hadn't seen since before Drakov. "Man sent a keg on a hunch. That's basically a love letter, coming from Sovereign."
Jude, still teary-eyed and clutching Nate's hands, surveyed the chaotic scene: the towering flowers, the unexpected keg, Zain's nonchalant shrug still hanging in the air like its own strange vow. He laughed until he had to sit down.
"I don't think any of us are ever getting a normal wedding," he said, his voice filled with mirth.
"Speak for yourself," Seth retorted. "Mine was extremely normal. Fifteen minutes, forty bucks, and I was back by lunch."
The yard fell silent once more, but this time it was filled with a sense of shared amusement rather than shock. No one had a response to Seth's comment. No one really needed one.