Chapter 30 Bulletproof
Chapter Thirty
Bulletproof
— Sunday —
I find Tomas in the kitchen, his laptop open in front of him, the blue glow of the screen reflecting off his glasses. His eyes look tired, and his face is a bit drawn. He’s still in the same clothes as last night, and a pang of worry hits me as I take in the tension lingering in his shoulders.
“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual as I pour myself a mug of lukewarm coffee and begin hunting for cream and sugar. “I didn’t see you this morning. Did I just miss you?” I give him a soft smile, hoping it doesn’t come across as too pushy.
He glances up, his eyes meeting mine before darting back to the screen. There’s a flicker of something there—guilt, maybe—and he rubs the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed.
“No,” he says finally, his voice low. “You didn’t miss me. I… spent the night in fur. Slept next to Gray.”
I pause with the refrigerator door still open, letting the words sink in. Tomas looks uncomfortable, like he’s waiting for me to react, to judge him.
“Your wolf needed it,” I say softly, and it’s not a question. He nods, still avoiding my eyes. I step closer, leaning against the counter. “I get it, Tomas. I really do.”
He shifts in his seat, his fingers drumming against the side of his laptop.
“I also… I fed him,” he says, almost too quietly, like he’s testing how the words sound out loud.
“Did he… did he order you?” I ask gently, careful not to let my curiosity turn into pressure. Tomas looks up, eyes widening slightly.
“No,” he says, shaking his head quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that. He didn’t demand it. I offered. I could tell he was struggling with Vivien’s absence.”
I take a step closer, resting my hand on the edge of the table, and decide to ask the question that’s been nagging at me since last night. “So, yeah… about Vivien.” I hesitate a moment, then add, “Did they always spend the day together? I mean, why was he so worked up over where she dies?”
Tomas closes his laptop, the soft click of it echoing in the quiet kitchen. “Vivien had her own apartment, and they rarely stayed up so late that she’d sleep over.” He pauses, his gaze softening as it settles on me. “He was upset because… she’s his chyld. He’s been waiting for her to need him. And his inner vampire—his monster, as he calls it—is possessive. They all are when it comes to their chyldren. But in his defense, he didn’t compel her, and most Makers would have.”
I swallow, nodding slowly as I process his words. I can see it now—behind Gray’s cool veneer of control, he’s struggling. Vivien didn’t need him, didn’t run to him the way his ego demands. And for someone like Gray, someone used to being the foundation for those around him, that kind of rejection cuts deeper than anything.
The sound of bare feet shuffling across the wooden floor catches my attention, and I turn just in time to see Ben and Shadow making their way into the kitchen. They’re both still in a half-asleep haze, hair mussed, yawning as they lean into each other, a picture of easy comfort. Ben’s arm is slung over Shadow’s shoulder, and their hand rests lazily on Ben’s hip as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. There’s something about seeing them like this that makes my heart swell. In the midst of everything, complications everywhere I look, there are moments like this that I need to commit to memory.
“Morning,” Ben mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. He leans down and kisses my cheek, smelling of spiced cookies and my jaguar. Then he grabs a mug from the cabinet, his eyes barely open, and starts pouring coffee, careful not to spill. Shadow gives me a sleepy smile, sliding into the chair beside Tomas, their hand reaching out instinctively for their Alpha, and gliding across his arm. I’ve noticed a deepening intimacy between the two of them since the pack bond came into play, some of Shadow’s sharp edges softening.
“Morning,” I say softly, my gaze flicking between them. I take a deep breath, knowing now is as good a time as any to bring up what’s been weighing on me. “I wanted to talk to y’all about something.”
Ben pauses, halfway to the fridge, and Shadow straightens a bit, looking more awake. Tomas glances at me, his brows lifting slightly, so I take the opening.
“I know last night was… a lot,” I start, choosing my words carefully. “But I’ve been thinking about this two-house situation, and I want to get it sorted before it turns into a bigger problem.” I glance at Tomas, and he gives me a small nod, encouraging me to continue.
I nod, exhaling slowly. “Right, so how do we do that?”
Ben snorts softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “We buy two of everything. Clothes, toiletries, coffee mugs—whatever we need. No more packing bags.”
“Two of everything?” I raise an eyebrow. “That sounds a little expensive.”
Shadow smirks. “You’re the one who said she needed a beach house yesterday.”
“I was drunk on the power of the landed gentry,” I mutter, crossing my arms, but I can’t help but grin.
Tomas chuckles, his gaze warm. “Well, we have plenty of money, and this is a lot more practical than a beach house.”
“I just don’t want this to feel like we’re camping out every time we switch houses. I want it to feel like… like we belong, wherever we are.”
Tomas nods, his expression thoughtful. “We could make some big online orders,” he suggests, his voice practical. “Clothing, toiletries, housewares—double of what we need, and have it shipped overnight. We’ll make both places comfortable, stocked with everything we’d need to stay at either for a while.”
Shadow’s eyes brighten a bit, and they lean forward, their hand brushing over Tomas’s arm again. “That’s a good idea. And we should think about the little things too—like books, and games. Things that make it feel like our own space, not just somewhere to crash.”
Ben leans back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the ceiling, his brows knit slightly. He takes a slow sip of his coffee. “We should probably be thinking about Mishka, too,” he says, glancing between us. “He’s been staying with Wade and Sue, and the twins. He needs rooms at both places, but…” He trails off, his fingers tapping lightly against his mug. His voice drops, softening with concern. “I don’t know, I’m worried he doesn’t really want to be around us.”
I reach over, placing my hand gently over his, “Ben,” I say softly, “kids don’t think that way. Mishka’s been through so much, and right now, he’s got something really good with Lily and Gemma. Maybe… they’re his first age-appropriate friends ever. ”
He looks at me, his expression conflicted—I can feel the concern that he’s somehow failing his son. It hits me right in the chest, that familiar ache of wanting to be everything for someone, and not knowing if you’re enough.
Tomas clears his throat, “It’s more than just having friends his age,” his gaze turns toward Ben, “The girls can talk to Mishka—it’s a connection on a level he’s probably never felt before. He feels like he fits in, not just socially, but… on a metaphysical level, his animal has found belonging too, he’s half-wolf and that is so important to us.”
Ben goes quiet, his fingers stilling against his mug, and I watch as his shoulders slump just a little, the worry deepening in his eyes.
I don’t hesitate. I climb out of my chair and into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, my forehead resting against his. His hands find their way around my waist, holding me close, and for a moment, it’s like everything else fades away.
“He loves you,” I whisper, my fingers brushing through his hair, trying to soothe the ache I feel from him. “He’s a kid, and he’s trying to figure out where he belongs right now. You just keep showing up and he’ll start to look for you.”
“I just… I want him to know he’s got a place here. That we’re his family, too.”
I nod, pressing a kiss to his temple, my heart aching with how much I love him. “He knows, Ben. But, if we force him to stay with us, he’ll just bolt. It’s what he’s good at, it’s what he knows. We just leave the door open and we don’t make a fuss when he decides to walk through it or when he decides to stay with the twins.”
Shadow leans forward, eyes soft, a smile tugging at their lips. “We’ve got plenty of time, Amor,” they reach for Ben’s hand. “And Mishka’s got all of us—whether he’s at the farmhouse or the townhouse. We’re not going anywhere.”
Tomas clears his throat, shifting into what I like to think of as “Alpha Mode.” His expression becomes sharper, more focused, as he folds his arms over his chest.
“Alright, let’s talk logistics.” His voice takes on that no-nonsense edge I find dreadfully attractive. “We need to start thinking about transportation. The Judge is great, but we’re going to need more than one car for eight people spread across two places.”
Ben raises an eyebrow. “You got a plan for that?”
Tomas nods, already in full-on problem-solving mode. “I’ve been texting with Wade,” he says, pulling out his phone and tapping the screen. “He’s got a line on two decommissioned police cruisers. Both have bulletproof glass and upgraded engines. We can pick them up tomorrow.”
I let out a low whistle, impressed despite my concerns over what this will cost. “Bulletproof, huh? You think we’re gonna need that kind of protection?”
“I think it’s better to be prepared than wishing we had been, don’t you?” His glances toward the others, his tone softening slightly. “We’ve got more people to think about now. We can’t afford to be careless. I’m also working on getting the Marchese jet smuggled out of Texas’ impound and brought to the Hughes County Airfield, too. Just in case.”
I sigh, recognizing the sense in what he’s saying, even if it makes my stomach twist with the reminder of just how many threats are hanging over us. Tomas turns to me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Sunday, you need to check in with your friend in Vegas. We need more information before we move forward with anything else.”
I hesitate, feeling a pang of guilt settle in my chest. I hop off Ben’s lap and grab my phone from the table. “I’ve been avoiding Melia,” I admit, my fingers already scrolling through my contacts.
Tomas raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You can’t keep putting this off,” he says, his voice a mixture of firmness and concern. “We need to know what’s happening there—and you need to take care of your responsibilities. The first of June is around the corner. You need to pay your bills.”
I groan, tossing my head back dramatically. “I’ve been enjoying not looking at my bank account, thank you very much.”
Tomas shakes his head, “You’ve been paid weekly for your services as the House of Marchese , art acquisition specialist. You should have plenty in your account.”
Ben leans forward, his brow furrowed. “Why don’t you just sell it?” he says, his tone genuinely curious. “We can’t go back to Vegas anyway.”
I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, well… staying out of Vegas isn’t gonna do shit to protect us from him,” I mutter, my voice trailing off, but Texas’ presence is inarguably in the room. There’s no denying the truth of it—he’s closing the net, on us, on my family, too.
Xavier looks between me and Tomas, “Any news on that front?” They run a hand through their thick messy hair, suddenly seeming far older than their twenty years. “And don’t we have to head to New Orleans…” they glance at me for confirmation, then back at Tomas. “Tomorrow, right? We have to meet Louisiana’s deadline. You told Gray, right?”
Tomas sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “No, I didn’t tell him yet, there was a lot going on last night, but I sent him a text, so he’ll know as soon as he rises,” his voice carries the weight of mental fatigue that’s settled over all of us. “And yeah, as of right now, we need to be at the palace by midnight on Tuesday.”
The tension in the room seems to thicken as we all make peace with how very fraught the near future appears to be.
Then Tomas claps his hands together. “Alright,” he says, his voice taking on that commanding tone again. “We’ve got a lot to get done before we leave. I want everyone to start making lists of what we need. Sunday, we’ll need to make a stop at your dad’s to pick out a few things for New Orleans. Louisiana runs a very formal court.”
He pauses, his gaze steady. “We also have to check the new windows at the townhouse, so we’ll head there afterward to get everything sorted.”
Shadow’s eyes brighten with interest. “I’ve heard about this ‘closet.’” They use finger quotes, and I roll my eyes. Some part of me, though, looks forward to showing my jaguar all my treasures. I wonder if Mishka, or maybe even Colt, will be there. We barely got to catch up last night—at least, not in the way I’d like to.
“One last thing, Trouble. You’re not to go anywhere alone.” Concern is etched across his features. “Things are dangerous right now. If you need to go anywhere, you take one of us with you. No exceptions. I mean it.”
My instinct is to bristle, but I catch the edge of fear in his voice, and I nod, biting back the urge to argue. “Alright, I get it.” I try to keep my tone light, but there’s an unspoken promise in my words. “No solo missions.”
He gives a brief nod. “Good,” his voice is gentler now. “I just need to know you’re safe.”
I swallow and glance at my phone, scrolling through my contacts, before pressing the call button for Melia. Time to get things moving. No more avoiding the inevitable.