47. Chloe
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHLOE
NOW
Iblink my eyes open and find Ronan staring down at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Rustling behind me draws my attention to Ryker, who sips at a cup of coffee, his amber eyes watching me intently.
“Are you both watching me sleep?” I yawn.
“Sure were, Siren.” He reaches behind him as I sit up, tugging the sheets up to cover myself. I may have had them both inside me last night, but that doesn’t mean I’m not self-conscious sitting between two men that look like they live at the gym.
Ryker hands me a mug, and I can smell the sugar among the bitterness.
I take a long sip and groan. Just as I suspected. Perfect.
“I don’t know how you drink that with so much sugar. There comes a point when it’s no longer coffee, and that surpassed the point three teaspoons ago.”
“She’s always had it the same,” Ronan tells him. “Her Starbucks order is just as horrifying.”
“Oh, I know. I can’t bring myself to say it. I have to order on the app and then wear a ball cap and glasses when I pick it up so no one thinks I’m the one drinking that monstrosity.” He shivers dramatically.
“Can you two stop picking on my taste in coffee?” I snap, but the smile that I can’t manage to wipe from my face gives me away.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this carefree. This safe.
This happy.
“Not until you start drinking it properly.” Ryker chuckles.
I roll my eyes but don’t bother arguing. It’s two against one, and I don’t necessarily disagree with them. By most people’s standards, my coffee order is ridiculous.
But I like what I like, and I’m not willing to give it up.
“Are the others up?”
“Yep. Grumpy and Asshole are outside having a deep and meaningful talk, the last I checked.”
“Are you sure they aren’t killing each other?” I worry my lip. Having the four of them in a small space is a bad idea given the amount of animosity they each harbor.
“Neither of them has a weapon, so I think we’re in the clear.”
“Have you made any progress on who attacked the house yesterday?”
Ryker shakes his head. “We feel fairly confident it wasn’t anyone Salvatore sent, although we haven’t completely ruled it out. Right now we’re focusing on keeping you safe, and everything else is secondary.”
“Will we move somewhere else today?”
“We’ll be here a few days,” Ronan tells me.
“Kingston is confident we’re off the grid enough that no one will be able to find us and that there’s no way whoever attacked could have tracked the helicopter.
Lying low here gives us a chance to look into who attacked us while also keeping you out of harm’s way. ”
“Is Damon going to be okay locked up here with all of us? I know how much he hates…actually all of us apart from you.”
“I don’t think I’m exempt from that hatred after last night.” Ronan smirks.
“Oh, definitely not. Someone was very grumpy this morning.” Ryker lifts his head slightly, giving me a glimpse at the bruises blossoming across his jaw.
“You did antagonize him,” Ronan points out.
“Ryker,” I groan.
“That guy has a stick up his ass the size of the fucking Titanic. I’m just helping to dislodge it.”
It’s another hour before Damon finally comes back inside, ignoring the three of us at the table. He pours himself a bowl of sugary cereal and milk before leaning on the counter rather than joining us.
We haven’t seen Kingston since we emerged either, but we’re pretty sure he’s working in his bedroom.
Ryker opens his mouth to say something but stops himself when both Ronan and I glare at him. He’s done enough meddling this morning, and if Damon were outside speaking to Kingston as well, he’s probably close to the edge.
I assume they were speaking about Caroline’s accident, a story that still breaks my heart every time I think about it.
I don’t need anyone to give me proof to tell me Salvatore orchestrated the entire thing, because that’s what he did to my parents as well.
When people become a threat to what he wants, he makes sure they can’t escape him.
“Do you want to sit down, Damon?” I ask softly.
His eyes flicker up to meet mine, and I force myself to hold them. I’ve spent too much time bowing down to him, I have no intention of continuing that pattern. “It’s a little crowded over there.”
I glance at the three empty seats before looking back to him with a small smile. “Sure it is.”
“You got something to say, Duchess?” He pushes to his full height.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
Ryker snickers, earning him a kick beneath the table from Ronan.
I’m going to have my hands full with the two of them, it seems.
“You could have at least put more clothing on,” Damon snaps.
I glance down at the T-shirt that covers my body with my brows raised. “Sure thing, D.”
His eyes flare at the nickname I haven’t used for years.
Turning my attention back to my breakfast, I take a bite and pretend not to notice the way his attention lingers on me.
“You know you’re over your daily recommended sugar intake between that bowl and the monstrosity you call coffee, and it’s only nine in the morning,” Ryker says, breaking the tense quiet.
“You poured both things for me,” I remind him. “Is this what the future looks like? You criticizing every gram of sugar I consume?”
A smile tugs at his lips, and I realize what I said. Future. A thing I haven’t let myself consider in such a long time. Living life on the run isn’t conducive to a full life, and yet somehow, in such a short time, I’ve allowed myself to think about what the rest of my life could look like.
With them.
“It’s okay, Sparrow. I’ll make sure you’re sugared up each day.” Ronan grins, giving my thigh a squeeze beneath the table.
Metal clinks loudly, and I glance up to see Damon clutching the bench like it’s the only thing stopping himself from launching over it.
“Thanks, Ro.” I lean over and kiss his cheek.
It’s a shitty thing to do, pushing Damon like this. But after years of cruelty, years of insults and jabs, it feels a little too good to finally get some revenge.
A door opens on the other side of the cabin, and I turn to see Kingston step out of the room with his coat on. His eyes scan the room, noting Ronan’s hand on my bare thigh and the shirt that belongs to him still hanging from my body, before he sucks in a breath and steps toward the door.
“Ronan, you’re with me today.”
“Where are we going?” he asks, pushing himself to his feet slowly.
“You’re not planning on killing him, are you, boss?” Ryker asks. “I only ask because my siren is attached to him, and I’d rather you didn’t upset her when she finally has a real smile on her face.”
We each turn to him in surprise. Tears gather at the corners of my eyes, but not because I’m upset. It’s because he noticed that all the smiles I used to give were a farce, and for the first time since I escaped the cellar when I was eighteen, my smiles are real.