Chapter 82
Chapter Eighty-Two
Mal
Aftermath
I’ll never be able to express how damned freeing it felt telling my old man to go fuck himself. I’ve never done drugs, but I was flying after the call, exhilarated.
Like, nearly as good as sex high.
From her smile and the way the tension seemed to melt from her, I’m certain Mom enjoyed the call.
That was a thing of beauty, listening to her curse him out. I sat there, wide-eyed and shocked because I don’t think I ever heard her swear, much less talk back to him.
It’s too much to hope he’ll stroke out from the conversation, isn’t it?
Jax expects the attack will happen the next morning, so we wait. We all stay at the house, watching TV all day, Mom and I snuggling on the couch while not discussing the elephant hanging over our heads.
Todd and I are in the kitchen when he receives Jax’s text that evening. The way his expression goes blankly grim as he reads it tells me everything I need to know, even before he hands me his phone.
I lean back against the counter, staring at Todd’s phone.
RS, TS, DS, HS 86d. Losses: 0
That’s the code Jax established with Todd.
The other Sterling men are dead, and none of ours are.
The fact that my new life can now truly start in earnest, free of fear, boiled down to these letters and numbers, feels…surreal.
I’m…conflicted. Part of me wants to jump up and down and scream in victory.
The rest of me that’s not a raging psychopath knows this is a victory, but it’s definitely not a win. Not for all the people who died, who lost loved ones, people traumatized for life, all because my father was a raging psychopath.
No one “wins” in this scenario.
All it does is prevent future catastrophic loss.
Maybe, from this point forward, healing can begin with vengeance finally administered and the threat eliminated.
Mom fell asleep on the couch, and I hate that I have to wake her to break this news. Hating Dad and hating her sons are two different beasts, and I know it’ll be somewhat conflicting for her.
Todd touches my arm. “Want me to tell her?” he silently asks.
I should be the one to do it, but I find myself nodding and tearfully whisper, “Please.”
He pulls me in for a long hug, kissing the top of my head before taking me by the hand and leading me to the couch.
He crouches beside it. “Freya,” he softly says, touching Mom’s shoulder, trying not to startle her.
Her eyes flutter open, and she focuses first on Todd, then me standing behind him.
She sits up. “What happened? Is it over?”
He nods. “It’s over.”
Her breath hitches as she stares at him while I take a seat next to her.
“Is he…” She can’t finish the statement.
Todd nods. “And Thad, David, and Harrison.”
“We’re…free?”
He nods again. “You’re free, and you’re safe, and you’re home.” He meets my gaze. “Both of you.”
Her breath hitches again as I wrap my arms around her, Todd holding both of us as he moves to sit on her other side.
She’s not crying, exactly, but shaking with wordless, nearly silent gasps as her hands clamp around ours.
I know the feeling.
I’m not mourning the death of my father and brothers.
I refuse to give them that energy.
Especially when they would’ve gladly, eagerly killed me and Mom.
I mourn the relationship I never had with them because they refused to accept me for who I was.
I’m not “happy” they’re dead. I’m damned sure not happy Brynnella was forced to miscarry against her will, and that none of my sisters-in-law have children.
Then again, maybe that did them a favor. My brothers likely would have made their children as miserable as our father made us. My brothers adapted by emulating him. I adapted by defying him.
Finally, Mom’s tears come, and she weeps as Todd rocks both of us in his protective embrace.
Mom’s free.
I’m free.
It’s not the outcome I hoped for, but I’m not complaining, either. The only outcome that would have made me “happy”—and the most ridiculously impossible outcome, at that—would have been my father and brothers having a complete change of heart and personalities and becoming decent people.
There was zero chance of that happening. For starters, because my father wasn’t wired that way. Secondly, he killed too many people—including sisters I was denied—for me to even want a relationship with him. And Goddess only knows how many my brothers killed, either at his command or on their own.
The world is a better place without the four of them in it, unable to further spread their tainted genes.
And, thankfully, Mom’s still young enough that she will hopefully find peace and happiness now, too.
Four Months Later
It’s a comfortably cool evening, and as I settle deeper into my comfy lounger chair on the screened lanai around the pool, I find it hard to believe I’m…here.
I’m seeing a shifter therapist at Todd’s insistence. She’s been very nice to work with. Very helpful in processing my past trauma. I still have a long way to go, but at least our baby will, hopefully, never experience anything like that.
Despite my anxiety over giving birth, I focus on eagerly meeting our daughter for the first time.
I can imagine Todd learning how to braid pigtails and teaching her how to ride a bike, and standing like a stony-faced sentry behind her the first time she brings someone home to meet us while I try to play peacemaker so they’re not scared off.
Even as I’m secretly pleased that Todd’s the hard-ass because I can be the “good cop” to his “bad cop,” even though I likely won’t want her dating until she’s about 80 or so.
Yes, I’m kidding.
Sort of.
Maybe.
“More cake?” Todd asks, walking up with a plate.
“Uh, fu-frick yes,” I say, sitting up to take it. Vanilla with pink buttercream frosting.
He leans in. “Cake tax.”
I smile and kiss him, and he relinquishes the cake.
I didn’t want a big wedding. I wanted to go down to city hall, get a license, and then get married as soon as we could by a clerk.
Mom, Iris, and Alizée put the kibosh on that plan.
But I didn’t want to wait to get married, so we compromised. Todd and I legally got married two weeks after my father was confirmed deceased. Mike got ordained online and performed the ceremony for us in the pack’s park, next to the memorial.
The only reason we waited that long was because Mom was in Atlanta with Morning Caldwell, dealing with legal stuff, and I wanted her here, obviously.
So I let them throw us a baby shower/wedding reception, a twofer, with our family and closest friends, and the newly “adopted” found family who it looked like were going to be around for the long haul.
Mike and Pavin have pretty much adopted me, as has Caleb, and it feels…
Well, it feels damned good.
Shawn waddles over and awkwardly lowers himself onto the lounger next to me, a plate of cake in his hands.
I’m big, but he’s huge.
Oh, yeah, technically it’s a three-fer, because I wanted us to hold Shawn’s baby shower at the same time, which he was in full agreement with.
All the fucking cake we can eat.
Huzzah!
He stares at the separate pile of presents in the corner for him and Jax. “I cannot believe this.”
I grin around the fork already in my mouth because I’m taking a bite. “Hey, you’re the one who asked Alizée to make this a gender reveal, too.”
Does that make this a four-fer party?
“I don’t know what to do with girls!” he says, poking at his cake. “I didn’t have sisters!”
“I guess we get to learn together.”
He snorts, taking a bite of cake. “At least we’ll have Iris, Freya, and Alizée. Dad can’t even help us much.”
I drop my voice. “Guess he gets to practice on our babies, doesn’t he?”
Shawn jams another bite of cake into his mouth to disguise his laughter, because…yeah.
Pavin went into heat about three weeks after “the events,” as I euphemistically refer to them, and he and Mike rolled the dice.
Alizée was thrilled to confirm that they are now expecting their first daughter.
They’re also living in one of the guest houses, for now, while they build a new house on the compound.
Owen drove down with Elliot and Bobby for the baby showers for me and Shawn, the reception, and to visit with everyone before he returns home.
Elliot and Bobby will return to the pack school and are happy they no longer live in the RV, and Elliot will be starting college next year.
Mom walks over and sits in the lounger on Shawn’s other side. It’s not just her new haircut that has her looking years younger; it’s her new life.
Morning helped her with the authorities and the paperwork to dissolve the pack’s business, sell off the house and other assets, and permanently relocate to Florida.
She’s living in the little apartment now because I burst into tears when she talked about accepting Jax’s offer to have one of the guest cottages.
I get that she deserves privacy too, but…
Well, I want my mommy.
There. I fucking said it.
Fricking. I fricking said it.
I glance at the swear jar Todd gave me, sitting on the table with the other gifts. It’ll be a couple’s thing, but I do need help remembering not to swear. I’ve asked him to help me remember to watch my mouth. I don’t want our baby’s first word to be “fuck.”
Mom doesn’t have to decide about joining the pack yet.
Jax has deferred it until a year after my baby is born.
If she doesn’t live in the compound, it won’t be required.
If she decides she wants to live in the compound—not just an overnight visit with us here or there—she’ll have to go through initiation.
And despite my ravenous libido as BT insistently presses on my prostate, that’s a subject I stay away from, both in my head and talking about it.
“Once we’re all cleaned up here tonight,” Mom says, “I’m going to go hang out with Alizée and spend the night down there, okay?”
I feel a serious pout coming on. “Why?”
Shawn snorts but takes another bite of cake.
“Honey, it’s your wedding night,” she says.