Chapter 5
Tate Madden
Archie and I met up in the big kitchen that morning to prepare breakfast for everyone.
We placed the hot plates on the kitchen table and then just started slinging food on there.
Archie made these amazing fried potatoes, and I prepared omelet cups and tomato halves for the oven.
Toast was ready for the toaster, eggs were all set to be scrambled, and the bacon had defrosted overnight.
It felt nice to be on the move, to do something.
The coffee smelled good too.
“I can go grocery shopping later,” I said, hauling out sandwich toppings from the fridge. “Do you have an inkling of who’s gonna be here today? I heard Ash and Nathan would come out for dinner with James—and Jordan’s already here. The Carters, I assume. You and Master Greer?”
He gestured briefly at the baby monitor next to the stove.
“I’m taking Kyla and Dylan home today. They miss their siblings, I have a mountain of laundry to do, and I want to get Corey to come out here for a day or two.
It would do him good to see Master—in case Master has to fly out to the West Coast.” He sighed.
“I would’ve wanted Sloan here too, but… You know, middle of the summer, all the kids, work—and he’s not as fond of driving as Master is. ”
Yeah, you definitely needed to enjoy driving in order to put up with their commute.
“KC and Master Lucian will be here any moment, though,” Archie went on. “I think I heard Lane was coming back too.”
I nodded, remembering now. Ty wanted Lane to spend time with Macklin and Walker.
“Ty’s really become the protective Daddy, hasn’t he?” I loved to see it.
“Right? I was thinking the same last night at dinner. The second Lane’s anxiety rises, Ty’s there with their protocols and whatnot. It’s heartwarming.”
Heartwarming—good word. We needed more of that now.
Before I could respond verbally, a Finlay whined through the baby monitor. It was Dylan this time, unless Greer had gotten his hands on a helium balloon.
“Bugger,” Archie muttered, kicking things up a notch. “I hoped to make it back before they woke up.”
“You go,” I urged. “I’ve got this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. Go.” I gave him a plate so he could fill it with whatever Greer might want. “Black coffee, correct?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Two minutes later, he scurried out of the kitchen with Master Greer’s breakfast.
I poured a cup for my own Master, knowing I could find him in the club area by now, immersing himself in the news.
How many times had we done this? After a sleepover, it was a ritual for the subs to prepare breakfast for the Owners. Something I knew Shay loved so much. Nobody else—Reese, notwithstanding—was allowed to make coffee for River.
I let out a breath.
I miss you, buddy. Please stay strong. River and Reese will find you.
Lucas Carter
I shook my head and clicked on the next link. What the hell was happening? Yesterday, we’d finally started seeing more sources outside California mention the kidnapping, but it was being completely overshadowed by news of a cartel-related turf war.
I wasn’t leaving our little newsroom in the club area until I found sources that kept Shay’s kidnapping relevant. He couldn’t fucking be old news already. When the media forgot, the world forgot.
“I dropped another article in the chat,” Lucian said, concentrating on his own laptop. “It’s about that cartel guy who escaped prison in Texas.”
I nodded absently, finishing my coffee as well as the article I was reading.
At the same time, Colt was done with his breakfast. “All right, Ty’s pickin’ me up in five.”
I glanced up from my laptop, and I noticed a couple more friends had arrived. Max and Reid had brought their laptops and now occupied one of the sofas, and Walker had come in at some point too. I hoped Macklin was still asleep.
Tate had joined Kingsley in the morning news hunt.
Colt took our breakfast plates back to the kitchen, and I closed my laptop for the moment. Kit was probably out on the patio, so I went out there.
True enough. He and his friends were done eating too, but they hadn’t left the table yet. Everyone was lost in their phones.
“Kit?” I waited until he looked up. “Colt’s leaving for the day.”
“Okay. Be right there.”
I nodded once and returned inside. On my way to the kitchen, I passed Tate and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Thank you very much for the breakfast, pet.”
“Anytime, Sir.”
I didn’t make it to the kitchen. Colt reappeared in the lobby with a go-cup and asked me to hold it while he went to take a leak, so I accepted the mug and told him I’d wait for him out front.
The shade on the front porch offered a sliver of relief, compared to the patio in the back. It was going to be another hotter-than-hell day, and I had every intention of staying indoors where the AC hummed. Call it my soundtrack for today’s news quest.
When I spotted Ty and Lane’s truck coming in hot, I wasn’t at all surprised they ignored the carport and drove right up on the front lawn. We’d been doing it all week, giving no fucks about tire tracks in the grass.
I’d decided it was going to be my first laugh when Reese came home and exclaimed something along the lines of, “Who the hell fucked up the lawn?”
I missed hearing him bitch about the little things.
Both Ty and Lane climbed out of the truck, and it was nice to see Lane had returned so soon.
No bulky hoodie today, just shorts and a tee.
How he hadn’t expired from the heat in Ty’s hoodie last evening was beyond me.
The nights weren’t exactly cool. They were…
muggy and sticky and almost as bad as daytime.
“Mornin’,” Ty said.
“Good morning, you two,” I replied.
I noticed Lane was clutching a notebook, and he glanced hesitantly at me.
“Good morning, sir.” He cleared his throat and came up the porch steps. “Could I ask a favor?”
“Of course.” I tilted my head.
“Um.” He fidgeted with the notebook. “I was wondering if you could ask the others to maybe write down memories and messages—something Shay can read when he comes home again?”
Oh, that was very sweet of him. “That’s a wonderful idea,” I answered. “I could leave it in the club area, and people can use it as a guest book, but for memories and well-wishes.”
He smiled timidly and nodded once. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Ty came up on the porch too.
“Are you sticking around, or…?” I asked Lane.
He glanced up at Ty, then shook his head. “I gotta get some work done for Corey, and I’ll focus better in Ty’s office.”
So he was going with Ty and Colt to MadCo. I was glad he wouldn’t be alone.
“But we’re gonna try to come out for dinner later,” Ty said. “Walker’s promised us that Macklin ain’t cookin’ again till Shay’s home.”
I exhaled a laugh, and Lane smirked ruefully.
“You’re in luck,” I said. “Santiago and Nora are making their version of spaghetti Bolognese for dinner. Tate wanted to make his ham and cheese pie, so we’ll be having that tomorrow.”
“Damn.” Ty draped an arm around Lane’s shoulders. “That sounds like somethin’ we want in on, doesn’t it?”
Lane nodded. “I guess I gotta eat anyway.”
“You sure do,” Ty replied.
Greer Finlay
After placing the bowl in the microwave, I set it for two minutes and pulled out my phone.
It was the last of the leftovers from Santiago and Nora’s dinner a couple of days ago, and it was fucking mine.
I’d hidden a container in the back of the freezer.
I had a piece of ham and cheese pie stashed for a rainy day too.
Safe to say, I didn’t lose my hunger in a crisis.
While I waited, I pulled out my phone and reread Cullen’s last text.
No update yet, but keep an eye on news coming outta Europe.
I had read something this morning, but if this was connected…? Christ, shit was about to be global news.
I’d only told a select few that my nephew was in Italy—and that several of his colleagues were in Spain.
Spain, where they’d had an explosion yesterday. At the port of Valencia, to boot. Valencia came up frequently in my search for European drug routes, so for every hour that passed, I became more convinced it was connected. Somehow.
Meanwhile, River and Reese were still in California, so I hoped that meant Shay hadn’t been smuggled out of the country.
Once my food was ready, I brought it outside to the patio. A handful of brats were hanging out in the pool, and I needed to be around smiles for a minute. Chasing news stories was fucking exhausting, and the world was a dark place.
Cam and Lucian sat at a table with an umbrella, so I joined them. Fuck the sun when it was this hot.
Cam looked up from his phone as I sat down across from them.
“Pizza’s gonna be here in half an hour, Sir.”
Well, I was hungry now. “There will be room for a couple slices, but I’m kinda tired of pizza.”
Even Lucian glanced up from his iPad at that. “Are you allowed to say that as a New Yorker?”
“Who’s gonna tell on me?” I retorted. I mixed the pasta and the Bolognese with my fork before I tucked in. Santiago and Nora’s sauce was creamier than what I was used to.
Fucking delicious.
Then I glanced out over the pool, happy to see the Littles in higher spirits.
Lucas, Santiago, Ash, and KC had worked hard to help the brats compartmentalize—or whatever I should call it.
In short, it was okay to live, it was okay to have fun, it was okay to take breaks.
Not everything could revolve around the depressing news.
Corey was a little different. I was so glad to have him with me now; I needed his affection, his random musings, and his energy.
With Shay missing, Corey lived by a schedule that benefited me too.
He started his day right by my side. We checked the news and hunted for updates and articles.
He didn’t speak much, so we relied on touch and staying close.
Then he took a nap, still sticking by my side.
After resting, he wanted to spend some time with his friends.
He sat on the edge of the pool now, smiling carefully as the others tossed a ball to one another in the water.
He was…more introspective, but he wasn’t entirely stuck on Shay, which was a good thing.
Instead, my boy let his mind wander freely, and I never knew what he was gonna say.
I dug that. Because whatever he brought up eventually provided me with much-needed breaks too.
As if sensing I was looking at him, he met my gaze and waved.
I smiled.
He pulled his feet from the water, grabbed his towel, and scurried toward me.
Archie had been right from the start about me.
Closing in on four years together, and it still took me by surprise sometimes to have a husband, a partner, who knew me better than I knew myself.
But he’d called it from the very beginning—I wasn’t gonna be able to live without anyone in my family.
Even though Archie and I were married, we didn’t think in terms of primaries and secondaries.
We’d never really done that, even though we’d sort of had the idea initially that, to the public at least, it would be Archie and me, and then Sloan and Corey.
We were still careful around the kids, but that was about it.
“I’m just gonna grab the notebook, Sir,” Corey said, jogging past. He tossed the towel next to me. “I know what I’m gonna write to Shay now!” he hollered over his shoulder.
Ah. The infamous notebook. A great idea by Lane, but damn if it didn’t sting every time I saw it.
It had become a visual reminder of someone in our community being held against his will—and me doing fuck-all about it.
My loved ones were torn about my possibly going anywhere.
I wasn’t. I fucking hoped. Every goddamn day, I hoped Cullen would call me. Or Reese. Or one of the Quinns. Or whoever the fuck. Just give me the green light, and I’d be on the first flight out of here.
I shoveled more food into my mouth.
Corey soon returned with the notebook and a pen, and he sat down next to me. “Hello, party people.”
My mouth twitched.
Lucian furrowed his brow. “Yes, that’s me.”
Corey snickered and opened the notebook. “Maybe not you, Sir. I know you’d much rather spend a day on a Disney cruise than in a nightclub.”
I rumbled a laugh around a mouthful of food. I couldn’t think of anything worse for Lucian. Spend the day with screaming children or music so loud you practically vibrated.
It was something Lucas had even included in the notebook.
He’d taken it upon himself to keep Shay updated on things happening around the house—lighthearted and funny things that would hopefully give Shay a laugh or two.
For instance, Lucian the other day, when he made sure four fucking times that the resort KC was reserving for their vacation didn’t allow any children.
I side-eyed Corey as he started writing, and I caught the first line.
Hi, Shay. It’s me, Corey.
I didn’t know why those words kicked me in the gut, but they did.
Putting down my fork, I glanced at what more he was writing.
It goes without saying I’m worried sick about you, but I’ve made the decision that River and Reese are going to be successful. They will rescue you, and you will come home again. I am sure of it!
When you do, I will meet the new version of you for the first time. Because I understand your whole world has changed. You have changed. The Shay I hugged a couple of weeks ago is just a piece of the new you.
After reading our friends’ memories and anecdotes, it’s clear there are many pieces that make up who you are. But one trait runs through every piece.
You are a fighter. You are a Tenley. You’re Shay, for crying out loud!
I swallowed and dipped down and kissed the side of Corey’s head. “You’re sweet, you know that?”
He quirked a little grin and looked up at me briefly. “He’s going to make it.”
I nodded once. “Absolutely, he will.” I kissed him on the forehead. “I love you. So much.”
“I love you too. Lemme concentrate now. Sir.”
I smiled. “You got it, baby.”