Chapter 9
Juniper
I’m jolted awake by a nightmare that felt too real, sweat slicked and heart racing. But the moment my eyes open to the darkness of the room I’m in, the nightmare vanishes, fading away with everything but the shaking fear it left me with and the lingering touch of pain.
It takes a moment for my breathing to return to normal, my heart rate slowing enough that I feel like I’m no longer at risk from a heart attack. As soon as that moment passes, a new realization comes to me in the form of a heavy arm wrapped around my arm, large hands splayed beneath my shirt, warming my back more than I already feel. A thick thigh has mine trapped to the bed I’m lying in, a comfy one at that, the other leg tangled with my unrestrained leg.
And based on the sheer size of the body currently clinging to me like I’m a buoy in an unsettled sea, I’d bet my life on the body belonging to Geo.
Sure enough, when I untuck my head from beneath his chin, I find Geo’s handsome face smoothed out in slumber, looking so peaceful that I daren’t wake him. His strong jaw has softened slightly with his slack mouth, puffs of air escaping with every breath, bringing with it subtle wafts of fresh air and sea salt, like a day at the beach after it’s rained heavily .
Smiling at the man, despite only having a vague explanation in my head for why he’s sharing the bed with me, I rub at his chest with a feather-light touch. I’m pretty sure I mumbled some hum of consent when he asked to stay with me, and that makes me smile a little wider, knowing he wanted to sleep beside me despite my absence. It makes me feel like he missed me as much as I missed him. As much as I missed all of them. Based on the way he’s wrapped around me like a long-limbed octopus, I’d say that little observation was accurate, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t make my pulse skitter rapidly.
So, with painfully careful movements, I manage to extract myself from Geo’s hold, only a grumble of protest following behind me. The moment I’m standing in only my shirt and my lacy boy shorts, remembering quickly that Lowie removed my jeans so I could sleep better, I peer down at Geo and watch with amusement as he bundles all the blankets and comforter up and cuddles them, breathing in deep as though he’s trying to savor my scent from the material.
Leaving him to sleep, I look for my cell, finding it on the bedside table. One of the guys must have dropped it there after we fell asleep, and I find myself grateful as I reach for it, swiping the unlock button and checking my messages. When I find a voice note from Mack, I decide that I should definitely leave the room before pressing play. Whatever that man has to say will surely wake Geo, and he looks too at ease to disturb.
So, with soft footsteps, I make my way out of the room, only to pause when I realize I have no idea where the fuck I should be going. I’m clearly still at the guys’ house, but I have no idea where in the house I am. All is silent throughout the whole house, only a faint ticking of a nearby clock breaking up the quiet.
Searching up and down the hallway I’m in, I turn right. Thankfully, I find the stairs easily from there, the room I was tucked away in close by. I tiptoe down the stairs and head to the kitchen, keeping the lights off so as not to disturb the peace surrounding me .
As soon as I’m sure everyone is still asleep, I take a seat at the island counter and unlock my cell. I find the voice note from Mack, lower my volume, and press play.
“I haven’t heard from you, girly. Got me worried and shit. You know I don’t like being worried. Call or text or whatever. Quit making me feel like a fucking girl, all up in my feelings and shit. And let me know how my truck is. Better not have bumped her, or I’ll kick your ass,” Mack grumbles down the line, sounding entirely too put out and making me smirk. That smirk turns into a full-on smile when he adds on quickly, “Miss you around here. Get back to me.”
Huffing a quiet laugh, I type out a quick message, despite the time being gone three in the morning.
JUNO: I’m fine. All signed up for classes. They start on Monday. Got my textbooks, settled into my dorm room. Sorry I didn’t message sooner, I’ve had a crazy few days here already. I’ll call you tomorrow, though, so you quit being all girly and shit. Miss you too, old man.
The message goes from sent to read quick enough that I know Mack was already on his phone, likely waiting for closing time. And, in true Mack fashion, I receive only a thumbs up emoji as a response. It’s more than I would have expected, so I send him a cool sunglasses emoji face back before locking my cell and pushing it away.
With my elbows braced on the counter, I drop my head into my hands, my fingers tangling in my plum-colored hair as I sigh loudly before I rub at my face. In the peace and quiet, my mind has free rein to run rampant. My thoughts fall right onto the guys, how they’ve stumbled back into my life once more, and how not one of them has shunned me. In fact, it seems like they all want me here. Well, all but Lowie. I’m not sure what’s going on there, but there’s a vibe that maybe he isn’t too happy with me being here. Maybe he’s too pissed about me disappearing that he can’t get over it. I mean, I wouldn’t blame him if that were the case.
“You look pretty lost in thought there,” his voice breaks through the quiet, making me jump so hard that my hands slap against the hard counter and wince when pain ricochets up my arms.
“Jesus, Low. You scared me,” I breathe harshly, placing a hand on my chest while I turn to look at him. He leans casually against the wall that only partially separates the kitchen from the living room. He’s shirtless, proudly displaying an eight pack that has my mouth watering, his sleep pants slung low enough that I can spy how deep his very defined adonis belt runs. His feet are bare, ankles crossed in a relaxed position, and his face and half of his body are cast in shadows as he watches me.
His lips twitch, but he doesn’t budge from where he stands, muttering, “Sorry. Been standing here a while.”
I nod, dropping my hand to fiddle with my phone on the counter, suddenly nervous to be around the guy less enthusiastic about me being here. Maybe he would have preferred I stayed gone? I mean, it’s not like I meant to come waltzing back into their lives. If Creek hadn’t bumped into me, then neither of us would be any wiser.
“Sounds like you have someone worried,” he points out, jerking his head to my phone, the bite of something in his words making me frown.
I shrug. “Mack isn’t a worrier by nature, but he cares in his own way.”
“Mack,” he mutters, almost like he’s tasting the name and not liking it one bit. That’s weird. “He your boyfriend or something?”
Hell, I choke on my next inhale, coughing and spluttering helplessly. Lowie rushes over to slap a hand against my back, and it takes a moment for my breathing to return to normal. When it does, I eye Lowie like he told some sick, twisted joke and explain, “The guy is old enough to be my father. I get some people are into that, but not me. I’m very much single. Mack owned the bar I worked at before coming here. ”
And what do you know, the animosity toward Mack disappears just as quickly as it came. Lowie’s shoulders drop as he leans against the counter beside me, close enough that I can feel his heat and smell that familiar sandalwood and coconut scent that only differs slightly to his brother.
“Here,” I mutter, swiping over my phone and pulling up a funny selfie I took of myself, Mack accidentally photobombing with a middle finger he was throwing at an asshole customer. I slide the phone across to Lowie, and he eyes it with a twitch of his lips, seeing with his own eyes how Mack, the big, burly, bearded biker is definitely too old for me. Shaking my head, I say, “That’s Mack. He gave me his old truck before I left, so he’s just making sure me and the truck made it in one piece.”
“Bit generous for an employer,” he notes, sliding my phone back to me.
I shrug again. “Mack… he’s a different breed. Knows the fucked-up things that go on in the world, had experience with it. I guess he saw a kindred soul in me and decided to care against his better judgment. I’m grateful to him, all the same.”
That shuts Lowie up, a flicker of guilt crossing his strikingly handsome features before he looks away. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares into the distance for a long while, leaving us in a silence made of comfort and awkwardness.
“Where did you go, Angel?” he eventually asks, so softly that I could have mistaken him for Leylan if I didn’t know the two of them as well as I do. The nickname washes over me with both familiarity and heartache, and I tear my gaze away from him and stare down at the counter before me.
“Want the short or long story? Either way, it’s not a pretty fairytale, so do you really want to know?” I ask instead of answering his question, my gut rolling at the thought of sharing the absolute shit-show my life turned into after Hershal almost killed me.
Lowie sighs, and I feel his body sidle closer as he turns to face me, and he tells me seriously, “Since the moment you called and I had to listen to you fade away from the other end of the fucking phone, I’ve needed to know where you are, if you’re okay, and what you’re doing. I’ve been dying, Angel, not knowing where you were and why you left. I’ll listen to whatever the hell you want to tell me at this rate.”
It’s the most I’ve gotten out of the guy since he hugged me while I cried, and I realize then that maybe I was wrong. Maybe he does want me here. But the flash of guilt I see paint itself slowly over his features tells me there are things he’s clinging to that he can’t let go of.
“You know it wasn’t your fault, right? What Hershal did? None of us could have ever anticipated he’d almost kill me, and I’m sorry I put that on your shoulders. I should have called the police or something,” I rush to say, trying to alleviate his guilt. It’s misplaced, severely so. Lowie was only fourteen, and there isn’t a damned thing he could have done. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”
“Don’t,” he snaps harshly, enough that I flinch in my seat. “Don’t you dare apologize for calling when you needed me. It’s me who should apologize. I should have fought to keep you with us, to have you stay the night or something. I should have got Leylan to call Dad faster, should have—”
“You did everything, Low. I would have died if you hadn’t answered the call,” I quietly interrupt, reaching my hand slowly for his, linking our fingers until I feel his palm pressed against mine.
Lowie releases a long, tired breath, before he lifts my hand and presses it against his chest. I can feel the thundering of his heart through the warmth of his skin, and I swallow hard, my hand tightening in his. He doesn't let go, simply keeps our joined hands pressed snugly against him, and he asks again, “Where have you been, Angel? I want the long story, I want to know everything. Every moment between you leaving the house that night to now.”
And so, like his demand compels it of me, I do exactly as he asks, too tired to keep everything bottled like usual .
“When your dad took me home that night, I got into it with Hershal again. The others were high out of their skulls, lounging and making out on the couch, not a care in the world. Hershal had been drinking heavily, words slurring, a stench wafting off him strong enough that I felt sick. He wasn’t too impressed that I’d come home late and demanded to know where I was. I lied, told him I was with a girlfriend from school, and that I’d told Tori where I’d be. He backhanded me hard enough that I fell for trying to blame her for my mistake. He said I’d be sorry when he was through with me. He beat me black and blue after that. I don’t even remember how long he spent kicking the shit out of me, punching me hard enough that sound stopped leaving my mouth.
“I managed to crawl back to my room, called you, and then your dad came barging in like a raging bull. Beat the snot out of Hershal when he saw my blood still on his hands and arms. I don’t remember much after that. I think Kaleb carried me to the car and drove me to the hospital, but the memories are spotty at best. When I woke up, I was in a sterile hospital room, alone, terrified, and in agony. They told me I’d punctured a lung, broke my arm, and had cuts and bruises everywhere. They spent a long while taking photos and asking questions, but I was always alone.
“When I was well enough, I was shipped off to the nearest Centre, where they watched over me as I came into my designation. They tried to force me into a program where they’d match me with a pack, but I refused. I was kicked out at fifteen when I wouldn’t agree to be placed into foster care. Had a couple of families take me in, but they realized I came with too much baggage for them to deal with. Eventually, I found myself with the Burtons.”
I stop talking suddenly, my throat closing up at the mere mention of the pack that almost fucked me up worse than my own pack had. I drop my head, trying to take a steady breath that won’t come as easily as they did before.
Sensing my inner turmoil, Lowie leaves his position beside me and putters around the kitchen for a few seconds before returning with two glasses and a bottle of raspberry-flavored vodka. Without uttering a word, he pours us both a drink and slides my glass over to me. I don’t hesitate in taking the shot, slinging it back like a pro, and pushing my glass toward Lowie for another. He obliges after taking his own shot, and I down that one, too. I keep my glass cradled in my hand instead of asking for another, knowing getting drunk isn’t the way to resolve my issues. A bit of liquid courage never hurt, though.
It’s a moment for the vodka to settle in my stomach before I finally take an even breath and continue telling my tales of woe.
“The Burtons were great on paper. Mother, father, three sons all my age or a year younger, all into academics and sports. Parents had money, not wealths of it, but enough to live comfortably. The boys all seemed close. They accepted me into the fold without hesitation. Little did I or social services know why that was until six months later,” I scoff, shaking my head for my stupidity. “I should have seen it, really. Should have known nothing that good ever comes without a cost.”
“What happened?” Lowie asks quietly, pouring himself another drink and tipping it back like he’s the one that needs the boost of alcohol to listen to the rest of my story.
I shrug. “Turns out they only accepted me because they were looking for a center to their pack. The sons, that is. The parents were trying to set up a pack for their boys, and I was meant to be the glue that held them together. After six months, they started hinting at the prospect of bonding with the sons. Those hints became a regular thing for a whole month until, one day, they sat me down and asked it outright. Said I’d be the perfect center for the boys. That they already liked me and wanted me to be theirs. I’d just turned sixteen by that point, had no feelings other than the fake sisterly feelings for them, and so I told them all no. Of course, that didn’t go down well.
“After that, the nice, pleasant, and even sweet family evaporated. I was starved most days unless the dinner lady at school took pity on me. The door to my room was taken away, privacy completely non-existent. I lost count of how many times the sons would ‘accidentally’ walk in on me while I was changing. I wasn’t to ask for anything, go anywhere but school, and making friends was an abhorrent idea that was firmly frowned upon. If I wouldn’t accept the boys, then I’d have no one. They even took my cell away, replacing it with an old brick of a phone with only their numbers sitting in the contacts.
“When that didn’t work, they resorted to physical abuse, though not as bad as I had it with Hershal and co. The dad liked burning with cigarettes, the mother liked shoving me into things, bruising me in places that would be easily hidden. But the sons,” I shake my head, feeling sick, a small pang of guilt niggling its way beneath my skin while I downplay the abuse I suffered. After all, I have more scars since the last time they all saw me, and it wouldn’t be hard to guess who gave them to me. “They started groping me every time they passed by in the hallway. An ass grab here, a blatant brush of my breasts. One of them even pinned me to the wall near his room and told me I’d beg for his bite before the year was up, all the while running his hands all over me like I was his to touch. I ran away after that, never to see the Burtons again. I’ve been running ever since. From them, from Hershal and the Henley’s. Changed my name, moved far away, made sure I was a nobody just trying to scrape by. I’ve been taking online classes to make up for ditching school, applying for scholarships for universities. It was a miracle that I got into North U, but I did it. I was finally getting somewhere in the world, but it’s not without constant looking over my shoulder. I’m always looking for them, wondering if or when they’ll pop up and ruin everything I’ve worked for. It wasn’t safe for me to go back, and I didn’t have my phone to call any of you. I was on my own, for real, trying to hop from city to city until I found myself working for Mack a few months ago. Got my letter to North U after busting my balls to get here, left two weeks later, and now here I am. Sitting in your house, telling you all the shit I’ve been through in my life up until now.”
Silence follows my words, stretching between us, and I glance up from the glass in my trembling fingers. I find Lowie looking at me with an array of emotions; guilt, agony, heartache, fury, sympathy. It all blends together to make a fierce look that would make me flinch if I didn’t know him.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps after a long moment, taking another shot before shoving his glass away, coming to stand beside me again.
I breathe in deep, inhaling his scent like I’m afraid it’ll disappear if I don’t get enough, and bask in the feel of the heat that pulses from his body into mine. I’m so distracted by it, that I flinch when Lowie reaches for my arm, picking it up like I’m made of glass, before inspecting the scars that litter my flesh. Little spots of puckered, pale skin litter my arms from where Mr. Burton liked to press his finished cigarettes to put them out when he was particularly angry at my refusal to accept his sons.
“They don’t hurt anymore,” I whisper as his thumb hovers over a mark.
With that, Lowie traces such a soft, gentle brush of his thumb over the burn scars. He doesn’t say a word, but the way his body tightens tells me his anger is bubbling inside him. And I can do nothing but watch it happen, unable to offer anything other than my words.
As he reaches a particularly nasty scar on my wrist, one I picked at constantly after it happened when my anxiety was getting the better of me, I whisper, “I never wanted to leave you. Not any of you. You guys were my home, where I felt safe, comforted, and looked after. With you guys, I knew what it was like to be wanted and cherished, and I never would have given that up for anything. Not willingly. You guys were it for me.”
Lowie frowns, his fingers tensing around me for only a moment before his sky-blue eyes bore into mine and he asks, “What about now?”
I frown. “Now, what?”
“Are we still it for you, Angel?” he asks, gaze intense and imploring. “Because you’re it for us. Always have been, always will be. You have no idea how many times I’ve hoped and prayed you’d reappear, erasing the last eight years. And now that you’re here, there’s no way I’m letting you go again. So, are we it for you, Juniper?”
He watches me for a long moment while I mull over his words, my chest tightening while every thought and feeling trips over oneself inside me. Every thought I had about him not wanting me vanish into a plume of smoke, leaving behind a man who watches me with so many emotions that I can’t keep up with them. My heart is thundering, my pulse fluttering like a hummingbird beneath my skin. I’m sure he can feel it, his thumb pressing hard enough to leave a white print on my skin, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. Doesn't look away. Simply waits for me to conjure an answer.
The thing is, I don’t even need the time to think of one. Because one thing I’ve always known, always will know, is that Lowie, Leylan, Evron, Creek, and Geo… well, they’ll always be the boys I grew up with, the boys I’ve always loved with every inch of my heart, and will always be the ones who own it. I don’t even want it back. It’s theirs to keep, to do whatever the hell they want with it. But it’s theirs, there’s no mistake about that. They’re the end game for me, and I can’t even lie or pretend otherwise.
So, with a choked whisper that would make me wince if I wasn’t trapped in Lowie’s gaze, I confess, “You’re all it for me. Doesn’t matter if I’m the same for you, there was never any other option for me but you guys. Even if I never found you again, even if none of you wanted anything to do with me or even remembered me. Didn’t matter who wanted me, I turned them down. Dating was something that always gave me mental hives, because none of them were you guys. I was always yours, and I’ll be yours long after I’m dead and gone from this earth.”
“Then that’s more than enough for me,” he whispers after my declaration, right before his free hand cups the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he yanks me close enough to press his lips against mine in a kiss that sets me on fire from the inside out.