26. After the Storm #2
This is my family now. Messy and complicated and absolutely worth dying for.
I just need Eve to come home so it can be complete.
The movie plays on while I pace, unable to settle. Every distant siren makes my heart jump. Every minute that passes without word from Eve adds another layer of tension to my shoulders.
But I force myself to stay put, to be present for Leo who needs stability right now more than ever. To trust Eve can handle herself, that she knows what she’s doing.
To believe that sometimes, just sometimes, love is enough to see us through the dark.
Leo’s eyes finally close completely, his breathing evening out into the peaceful rhythm of sleep. On screen, the hero saves the day. Outside, sirens wail in the distance.
And I wait for my wife to come home.
The steady rise and fall of Leo’s chest against my thigh reminds me of simpler times—times when I still believed in fairy tales and happy endings. But that didn’t last long. When my parents were killed, Seb’s and my life changed forever. And for the good.
Leo’s small form curls against me on the leather couch, head resting on my lap after exhaustion finally claimed him about an hour ago. My fingers absently stroke his sandy blond hair. The gesture is as much to comfort myself as it is him.
The mansion is quiet now, the chaos of the day’s events settling into an uneasy calm. Seb left about thirty minutes ago. Even Eli has retreated to his post outside, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my sleeping nephew.
The grandfather clock in the hall chimes midnight, its deep resonance echoing through the empty rooms. Eve still isn’t home.
I know she has to deal with the aftermath of tonight’s operation—the “official” version of events that will make it into police reports—but each passing hour sets my teeth on edge.
The need to have her here, safe under my roof where I can protect her, claws at my insides.
My phone buzzes softly in my pocket. I shift carefully, trying not to disturb Leo as I check the message.
Eve
On my way home xoxo
Four simple words release all tension in my body. I type back a quick acknowledgment, then return to my vigil, watching shadows play across the walls from whatever movie is playing now.
Twenty minutes later, I hear the distinctive sound of the front door opening. Footsteps make their way through the house and down the hall. Eve. I’d know her stride anywhere.
When she appears in the doorway, the sight of her knocks the breath out of me. She looks exhausted, dark circles under her eyes matching the smudges of ash on her jacket. Her hair hangs loose around her shoulders, wild curls framing her face. But she’s here. She’s safe.
Her eyes immediately find Leo, softening as she takes in his sleeping form. Without a word, she moves to join us on the couch, her movements careful and controlled despite her obvious fatigue. The leather creaks softly as she settles beside me.
“Hey.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper as she reaches out to stroke Leo’s hair. Her other hand finds mine, fingers intertwining.
“Hey yourself.” I study her profile in the dim light, cataloging every detail. The slight tremor in her hand. The tension still visible in the set of her shoulders. The way she can’t seem to stop touching Leo, as if reassuring herself he’s really here.
We sit in companionable silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts as we watch Leo sleep. He looks peaceful now, no trace of the terror. Children are remarkably resilient—something I learned the hard way growing up in the system.
Finally, Eve breaks the silence. “Thank you.” The words are soft but heavy with meaning.
I raise an eyebrow. “For what?”
She turns to face me fully, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Don’t be coy with me, Ezekiel King. We found the bodies after the raid.
Alessandro and all his top men, dead before we even started processing the scene.
And all the damning information on Marcus Barone and his operations.
It was like someone gift-wrapped the Columbus mafia and handed them to the police department. ”
“Hmm.” I keep my expression neutral, though I can’t quite suppress a small smile. “I wonder how that happened.”
Her quiet laugh sends warmth spreading through my chest.
“I know you did it. No need to pretend otherwise.”
I study her face, searching for any sign of judgment or revulsion. Finding none, I allow myself to relax. “I’d do anything to keep my family safe.” The words come out rougher than intended, raw with an emotion. “I’ll take out every mafia family in Columbus if that’s what it takes.”
The intensity of my tone seems to startle her. She searches my face for a long moment before nodding slowly. “I know you would.” Her hand tightens in mine. “Come on, let’s put him to bed. He’ll be more comfortable there.”
I gather Leo carefully in my arms, his small body limp with exhaustion. He stirs a little but doesn’t wake as I stand, automatically adjusting my grip to support his head. Eve leads the way upstairs, her hand trailing along the banister as we climb.
In Leo’s room, toys are scatter the floor, comic books are stacked haphazardly on the bedside table. A nightlight casts soft blue shadows on the walls. It looks lived in. Like home.
Together, we manage to get him tucked under the covers without fully waking him. He mumbles something unintelligible as Eve kisses his forehead, then settles deeper into the pillows with a contented sigh.
I linger in the doorway, watching them: Eve’s tender expression as she fusses with Leo’s blankets. The way she smooths his hair back one last time before straightening. The casual domesticity of it all strikes something deep inside me—a longing I didn’t know I had until this moment.
When she joins me at the door, the same emotions play across her face. Without thinking, I pull her into my arms, needing to feel her solid and real against me. She comes willingly, melting into my embrace as if all the strength has suddenly left her body.
“He’s safe,” I murmur into her hair, as much to reassure myself as her. “We got him back.”
She nods against my chest, her fingers curling into my shirt. “We did.” A shuddering breath escapes her. “God, Zeke, when I think about what could have happened—”
“Don’t.” I tighten my hold on her. “He’s here. He’s safe. That’s all that matters.”
We stand there for a long moment, drawing comfort from each other’s presence as we watch Leo sleep. The events of the day—the violence, the fear, the desperate race against time—seem almost surreal now, like a nightmare fading in the light of dawn.
Finally, Eve pulls back slightly, though she doesn’t leave the circle of my arms. “I should get cleaned up. I probably smell like smoke and God knows what else.”
I brush a kiss across her temple, breathing in the familiar scent of her beneath the ash and gunpowder. “Come on. I know just what you need.”
As I guide her out of the bedroom, I glance back one more time at Leo’s sleeping form. My nephew . My family . The thought settles something inside me, a piece I didn’t know was missing finally clicking into place.
I close his door quietly, leaving it open just a crack—the way he likes it. In the hallway, Eve leans against me, exhaustion evident in every line of her body. But there’s something else there too—a tension that speaks of unfinished business.
We need to talk about what happened today.
About the choices I made and the lines I crossed.
About the bodies we left behind and what it means for our future.
But for now, all I want is to take care of my wife.
To wash away the evidence of this terrible day and remind us both we’re still here. Still together.
Still fighting.
The rest can wait until morning.
Eve’s fingers find mine in the darkness of the hallway. She squeezes gently, a silent acknowledgment of everything we don’t need to say.
I squeeze back, leading her toward our room where I can properly tend to her needs. Where I can show her with actions what I’m still learning to express in words.
That she’s mine to protect. Mine to cherish.
Mine to love.
The thought should terrify me. Maybe tomorrow it will. But for now, with Leo safe in his bed and Eve warm and alive beside me, I let myself believe in the possibility of happy endings after all.
Even for someone like me.
Steam rises from the large garden tub, curling in lazy tendrils through the dim bathroom. The only light comes from a dozen candles scattered across marble countertops and window ledges, their flames dancing and casting flickering shadows across Eve’s bare skin.
My fingers trail down her spine, savoring each subtle dip and curve. She shivers despite the warmth of the room, and I smile. The slightest touch from me affects her so viscerally.
“Into the tub, love,” I murmur, guiding her with a gentle hand at the small of her back.
The water ripples as she steps in, disturbing the thick layer of bubbles I’ve created. The subtle lavender scent filling the air comes from her favorite bath oil.
And today has certainly qualified.
She sinks into the water with a soft sigh that goes straight to my core. “This is heaven.”
“We’re just getting started.” I strip out of my clothes and grab the soft washcloth I’d set aside. “Lean forward.”
She complies, drawing her knees up to her chest. I slide into the tub behind her. Water sluices down her back as I begin at her shoulders, using the cloth to spread warm water across her skin. I take my time, watching goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch.
“You’re too good to me,” she murmurs, voice already growing heavy with relaxation.
I press a kiss to her wet shoulder. “Impossible.”
The washcloth glides lower, tracing the elegant curve of her spine. I pay special attention to the knots of tension I feel beneath her skin, applying gentle pressure until they begin to release. A small moan escapes her when I hit a particularly tight spot.