Chapter 13
Thirteen
Laila
I spend the next hour reliving the horror of my past as they sit in silence. Not once do they stop touching me. Feeding me their power so that I can purge my soul of the evil done to me.
My soul pours to the floor and I expose my inner demons in the hopes they don’t feel differently about me. My mother’s death, the reason I was in New Orleans to begin with, and why I went to The Gilded Key Society that first night I met them.
“I was perfectly fine finding solace in the arms of strangers that night. I had barely a sliver of hope to live for when I came back to your side. I was reckless. But I didn’t care.”
Murder shimmers in Con’s eyes. His chest heaves and he’s off the bed pacing from one side of the room to the other. His beast has come to the surface and the rage is barely contained. He crosses the room and pounds the drywall until it’s dust. Bastian is on the phone and Dante has me wrapped in his arms protectively.
He’s whispering something in Russian I can’t make out, but I feel them deep inside me.
Bastian is talking too fast for me to understand what he’s fully saying, but I catch the tail end of his last sentence: “. ..ya khochu yego krovi. ” I want his blood.
While they take in the new information, I’m done with it. I can finally breathe. The burden of the secret is lifted from my shoulders and now that I have finished, I no longer feel unworthy.
Dante orders us all room service and a big bottle of vodka. I can’t seem to find my appetite at the moment, so I slip from his warmth begrudgingly and head toward the large bathroom. I need hot water, steam, and some silence. Just for a minute. Maybe two. One final purge.
Dante holds on to me silently asking me to stay but I slip away and cross to the arched doorway. I slide the doors open.
Whoa. I thought the room was nice. There is the usual. A sink, a toilet, soaps, and bottles of shampoos. But I didn’t expect the view. I step onto the warmed tiles and pick my jaw up off my chest. Half of the large shower’s wall facing out to the city is frosted glass which gives the city lights a blurred appearance. It’s like viewing a Christmas tree through an unfocused lens. I slide the glass door open, crank the hot water to full blast and step inside.
Steam billows around me. I step in and let the heat seep into my nerve endings.
I settle my hands over my womb and turn down the water to a tolerable heat level for the life growing inside me. My life is more than just mine now and every decision I make includes this little one.
I turn to find three men shoulder to shoulder in the large doorway staring at me like someone is going to jump out of the drain or crash through the glass window and kidnap me.
Wordlessly they watch over me as I start with my hair and work my way down.
I rinse and go in for a second soaping. “He’s not here in this room, guys. You can let your guard down here. I’m safe.”
Dante is back to flipping his blade through his fingers like a pirate would do a coin which seems impossible given the blade’s size.
“You’re never leaving our sight again.” Con’s tone is final.
I throw a sudsy hand up. “Hold up. That could turn awkward.” I like my solo showers and nights I get a whole bed to myself a couple of times a week.
Dante sets his blade down, slides the door open, and joins me. His hands are on my shoulders, and I’m turned around, the shampoo bottle plucked from my hands. “Get used to it. We’re married now. Blood in, remember.”
“I do. About that.”
“It’s final. You’re in the life now, zhena . Our lives. Consider our signatures in the Society’s ledger the first step toward making us your official bodyguards as well as your husbands. We will make it binding once we get back to Seattle.”
Oh. I never thought of them that way. More like shields against reality the way I’ve been hiding out inside their lives instead of living my own.
My mind hits reverse. Wife?
Hearing Con and Dante’s claiming words gives me a sense of hope I’ve never felt before. Dante had called me wife. I’m stuck on their words for a minute. That is until another thought occurs to me.
“Who would I marry? I can’t wear all three of your rings.”
“As the oldest one, you’ll marry Con. And you don’t need our name to know you’re ours. We’ve shared blood. That’s more binding than some sheet of paper.”
I’m nodding as Bastian speaks.
“We need to talk about me getting a job. Cassius practically asked me to consider being an undertaker. I like typing.”
“No.” All three seem to love that word.
Okay, then. We’ll see what they say after four nights. I’m not a kept woman. I have a law degree and can speak three languages. I have ideas and ones they just might like. But later.
Bastian is busy joining us in the large shower and I’m way too distracted to talk business right now. He’s picking up the conditioner and coming my way. I flick my gaze over their shoulders to see Con holding towels.
I’m soaped, rinsed, lathered again, and turned to a waiting Con.
“Come here, wife. Let me care for you.” I love hearing his native words. They soothe me. And I have to admit, it feels good to be pampered and wanted so much they are willing to devote their days to my protection, but if they start setting out my clothes and offering to feed me, I might lose it on them.
The next few hours are bliss. I let the undertaker job conversation take a back burner. Not that I want the job, but something other than being their arm candy will have to happen. It’s a conversation for later.
After the food, we settle in the large bed, and I cuddle up next to Dante with Con to my right and Bastian on the other side of him. There’s no sign of jealousy. Only evidence of their minds clicking over to, no doubt, how to kill my stepfather without causing a bloody war in the middle of Seattle streets.
I trace the pad of a finger over Con’s nipples. First one then the other. “I know what you’re thinking. He’s not worth it. He’s nowhere near as strong as you. I didn’t tell you before because I can’t stand the idea of any of you getting hurt. Don’t prove me right on this, please.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell them the other news. But I don’t want to guilt them into parenthood because I’ve learned quickly they are men of honor despite their true desires. After tonight’s news, they need a minute to absorb everything. We all do.
“Some people don’t deserve to be parents or stepparents. Us for one. The danger a little one would be in just by association.” Bastian covers his face with both hands and my heart breaks a fraction. Will he say the same when I tell him I’m expecting?
I can’t think about that too hard or I’ll blurt out the news now. Doing that won’t help any of us.
I bite my tongue and shift my attention to other details. Like how he’s drawn a knee up and in doing so the sheet he had draped over his chest drops to reveal the dark trail of hair. I can’t help but look at the beauty of his physique.
“Your mother must have…”
“—She didn’t,” I cut him off. “No one knew. My stepfather is very cunning and resourceful. To her, he was the perfect gentleman until one night he wasn’t. He used her against me. If I stepped out of line, he hurt her. If I fought back, he hurt her. I can only imagine how hard it got for her when I didn’t come home for four years. Or when I refused to do his bidding through her demanding I come home. I know he took it out on her one final time and that is how she died. The people who stay at his side now are there because they are as twisted as he is. Yeah, my mother should have picked better but all she was focused on was her own grief. She was never one who could be alone. And now she is dead because of him.”
Con holds his arms out to me, and I go to him. We all grow quiet and sleep eventually takes over. I dream of our new family and my men surrounding me with their love as a shield.