30. A Family Matter
30
A Family Matter
GREYSON
Beep.
Mattie, curling into Leighton’s lap on the soaked sand and holding on for dear life. A silently sobbing Oliver wrapping them up in his arms.
Beep.
Leighton, looking more likely to kill the EMT than let him take her.
Beep.
Alice swaying as she fought to stay vertical where she kneeled in the sand, applying pressure to Jax’s chest. The sound of her screaming for help as first responders tore onto the bank.
Beep.
My wife loaded into an ambulance while Mattie, Leighton, and Ollie were stuffed into another. The first tearing onto the road with sirens blaring and Jax inside.
Beep .
The bruising crack of my knees as they hit the tile floor when they took Alice behind double doors, I couldn’t follow through.
“Grey?” Something warm that smelled like an ashtray was under my nose, jerking me awake. My brother’s stony expression was locked on my face, and I blinked into the gloom of the hospital room. The obnoxious beeping sound clicking memories like slides through my mind was Mattie’s monitor. I’d nodded off in the stiff, pleather armchair in the corner, my neck protesting the awkward angle. Sucking down a breath, I straightened, eyes darting to where my niece slept, still hooked to the IV with Leighton cocooning her little body.
“What is it?” I demanded, reluctantly accepting the offered cup of hospital coffee he was wielding in my direction.
“Come on,” he whispered, glancing back at the girls like he was afraid to wake them.
My stomach sunk. Throat tightening. Eyes burning.
I couldn’t… couldn’t follow. Couldn’t endure anything else.
Jax had miraculously survived a very tedious surgery and many transfusions. They were now treating him for infection, but he’d yet to wake. As if the gunshot wasn’t enough, he’d sustained a concussion and broken ribs in the wreck.
Leighton—the endearingly feral honey badger that she was—had discharged herself against medical advice because they wouldn’t let her stay beside my niece as a patient. In her words, there wasn’t shit they could do for her broken ribs or collar bone, anyway. The moment the papers were signed, she’d allegedly scowled at the front desk lady like the policy was her fault before stomping to the elevator to go back to Mattie. She’d slithered into a gap between Matilda and the bed frame that was much too small for a full-grown woman, and yet she managed. Although I’m sure an abundance of pain medication helped her settle in there.
My Alice had been the last priority—her jaw set, and eyes ignited with white-hot rage—as the others were tended to.
Right up until she passed out in the bathroom.
I watched in silent terror as the staff rushed in with a crash cart, maneuvered her onto the flat stretcher, and wheeled her behind double doors. Unforgiving white tiles hit my knees when they gave out, and I prayed to any deity that would listen to bring her back to me.
Evidently, the tears burning my cheeks hadn’t been silent, because before I could catch my breath, a little blonde with Alice’s eyes was kneeling in front of me with her hands on my face, her chin trembling before she scooped me into a standing hug with alarming strength.
Hadlee , I distantly remembered.
In the next breath, another set of arms wrapped around us. Another. Another . One after the other, her siblings lent me their strength, heads bowed together until a football-sized huddle consumed the hallway.
Someone prayed.
Everyone murmured their assent and amen.
The next hours were the worst of my life.
Brexley, Max, and Quinn reluctantly left the waiting room huddle to go to Oliver’s so the baby could sleep. Broderick attempted to get Elora to follow suit, to no avail.
Drips of information were leaked to us by nurses that came and left just as quickly.
Broken collar bone, sternum, and ribs.
Internal bleeding.
Surgery.
Each face was more grim than the last as I paced the hallway until Mattie asked for me, and my heart broke all over again.
Alice had agreed to help me out of scandal, to save my skin for no reason beyond a bone-deep sense of justice, and my secrets hurled her to the cusp of death. In a matter of weeks, we’d made an enemy that nearly robbed me of my dog, and now three of my most beloved human beings on the planet were in these sterile papered walls. Two tiptoeing on the territory of the Grim Reaper.
I couldn’t go in there and patch either of them back together. There wasn’t anything all our fucking money could buy that could make this right. Nothing in my power to fix this.
When Ollie and I rounded the corner into the waiting room, her siblings all looked up at once. Jameson and Paxton both rose to their feet expectantly.
Even as they closed the distance to stand to either side of me, I knew I didn’t deserve their solidarity.
My fault.
This was all my fucking fault.
I had a feeling that the ever-silent Jameson would put me out of my misery if this went belly up. Or at least he would if I told him the truth.
A flicker of surprise turned into a flame of outrage in my chest when I spotted Reggie off in the corner of the room. His balding head rested in his hands, elbows braced on his knees. I didn’t have time to respond before Ollie was nudging me in the ribs.
It was the surgeon in black scrubs that came into the room and snapped me from worst-case scenarios and the anger of his pathetic, artificial presence.
“Mr. Hart?” When I nodded, she pulled her mask below her chin, a tentative smile on her face lending me an ounce of comfort. “Your wife is out of surgery, and it went as well as it could have. We stopped the bleeding and have no indication of any permanent damage. She’s in for a long recovery, but I do expect her to make a full one.”
A collective whoosh of breath left the room. Someone burst into sobs. Ollie palmed his jaw, eyes shooting skyward as his tears overflowed. Paxton slapped a hand between my shoulder blades as Jameson collapsed to kneel with his head in his hands, rocking on his heels. My uncle found his feet, his eyes locked on me and… bloodshot .
Tears seared my eyes as I watched the doctor’s sympathetic expression. “She’s awake in her room and asking for you.”
My pulse slammed so hard against my ears that I couldn’t make sense of the words hurled at me from twelve different angles. I couldn’t find words as Reggie nodded solemnly, setting a hand on my shoulder as he walked past us and down the hallway.
I just numbly followed the doctor back to a room in a wing I had yet to wander. When I rounded the corner and stepped over the threshold, groggy gray-blue eyes found mine, a weak smile lining her lips as I cracked like an egg.
Collapsing to my knees by her bedside, I shakily grasped her hand in mine and brought it to my lips as relief washed through me. Alice thumbed away the tears on my cheek as she gave a little murmur.
“I don’t think beasts are supposed to cry,” she rasped before coughing a little laugh out.
“My Belle,” I breathed, unable to meet her eyes, even as I felt them boring into the top of my head. Shame was a hideously consuming companion. She slipped her fingers from mine, and I let her. I’d deserve it if she left—deserve it if she fled to the far corners of the world and changed her name so not even Max could find her.
But the woman knew me well. Saw everything as I diverted my gaze, wiping my hand across my mouth, because she brought her fingers to my chin and tugged me back to her. “Grey.” When my eyes stayed closed, she said, “Look at me.” I did. How was she so beautiful, even with her skin wan and a cannula in her nose? Even nearly broken, Alice was the most radiant creature I’d ever beheld. The woman who saw everything smiled softly and shook her head. “I’m not running. ”
Alice
Eight months later…
“Are you ready?”
“I think so.”
“Are you sure ?” Greyson pressed, with a devilish glint in his eyes that made my smirk deepen.
“Pretty certain.”
“Cause it’s not too late to change your mind,” he insisted.
“I think that ship has sailed, Mr. Hart.”
His low rumble of a laugh made me smile. “I dunno. Frankly, that crowd is terrifying . They all look so expectant.”
Over the winter, we’d made Hart House our own, the walls now covered with paintings and splashes of color. We traded the sterile, magazine-worthy, Cape Cod-style furniture for eclectic, curated pieces we’d chosen together. If we were going to bring something home, it had to speak to us personally. None of the generic showroom bullshit. To Greyson’s eternal amusement, he actually liked color more than the neutral pallet his designers had granted him over the years. Blue, in particular, held his fancy.
With a dramatic sigh, Captain rose from his plush bed beside my vanity as we found our feet. “Ready, big guy?” I asked, bending down to ruffle his ears and straighten his bow tie before scratching down his spine.
“Hey,” Grey protested. “No calling the dog 'big guy’ if I’m around. I resent that.”
My laugh mixed with the enthusiastic tippy-tap of Cap’s paws as he waggled back and forth between my hands. A jealous Chip came leaping from our bed like an albino flying squirrel. His little claws screeched across the hardwood as he slid up beside us to demand pets, too. Captain grumbled his displeasure before heading for the French doors to lead the three of us out to the inevitable chaos.
My family—yep, all of them in their loud, chaotic glory—and a handful of our friends were chattering just beyond the patio. Squeezing Greyson’s hand in mine, I sucked down a steadying breath. Through the wall of glass, everyone we loved milled about. Bulb lights sparkled under the golden hour pastels of a Southern California sunset. White tents lined the perimeter of our property, and the sizzle of meat on the grill competed with the trail of music from the live band placed against the border of sand.
For our one-year anniversary, Greyson had insisted we finally celebrate our vows the way I ‘deserved’ to. Whatever the hell that meant.
But he’d known better than I did, because he kept it intimate and informal. A live acoustic band, beautiful view, the people we could count on—which was, admittedly, a lot more than just four of us now—and a Mistyvale-style fish fry.
Greyson kissed my temple before opening the door and motioning me through to a chorus of whoops, applause, and obnoxious wolf whistles.
“ Brothers ,” I muttered.
“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, jerking his chin toward the dance floor, where Oliver was twirling Mattie in one hand and Leighton—who had a giggling Beau wrapped around her back like a chimp—in the other. Paxton was just behind them and flashed me a wink over the shoulder of his intimidatingly gorgeous date. Her black curls swayed at her lower back.
Unabashedly, Max sidled up next to Grey with a shit-eating grin on his face and a slick button-up and slate gray vest wrapped over his lean frame.
“Suit Daddy,” he said by way of greeting, complete with a signature Max eyebrow waggle.
“ Christ ,” Grey muttered, an adorable little flush creeping into his cheeks. Max was entirely undeterred, to no one’s surprise, and my eternal amusement. He’d been around a lot this year, making this place feel more like home than ever. As per usual, both work and his love of travel had him bouncing around the planet. Brexley and Elora had an eager mother’s assistant after their births, and Hadlee called him up north for some help when she was house hunting. But aside from that and the occasional unavoidable work trip, he’d been here with me as we created a new sense of normal.
“About damn time, you two. I’ve got something I’m dying to show you—you’re gonna love it , I promise.”
I was still laughing as my maddeningly attractive husband was dragged over to Max’s computer, where it sat on a patio table. Unwilling to snake my way through the party until Grey was beside me, I leaned onto the banister of the terrace and watched the commotion with a smile on my face.
“Looking awfully radiant, little Hart. Sure that old asshole is taking good care of you?”
Grinning at the familiar baritone, I turned to smirk up at the one and only Jackson Reynolds. “ Oh , I’m fairly certain all my needs are accounted for.” His cheeky little smile filled my chest with a warm sense of safety a beat before he pulled me into a bruising bear hug. Like me, Jax had a bit of a rocky road to recovery in the fall, but he’d spent it here with us. Together with Max, Luke, and a couple of trusted FBI contacts, we put our heads down and worked our asses off to bring Thunderstrike firmly above board. The road hadn’t been easy, but after their rescue of Miranda Ashcroft and her children, and the ensuing unveiling of the city’s seedy underbelly, stepping into the light became rather inevitable.
The part that stung even all these months later was the fact that Miranda had known. My friend—o r who I thought was my friend. She’d known who was hunting me, and she hadn’t told us. I mean…more than anyone, I was aware of what we’d do to protect those we loved, and with her unsuspecting children in Obsidian’s crosshairs…maybe I couldn’t understand what that felt like, but I don’t think I would’ve protected my husband until I knew they were going to kill her, if our roles were reversed.
Even knowing she’d been under duress didn’t ease that wound. She’d been on her way to deliver everything she knew to Detective Rivera when Obsidian tracked her down and forced her into an SUV at gunpoint. Royce’s sudden onset of sickness had been in reaction to an image of the three of them with Odessa’s head of security.
Royce .
The man used me as an in to get closer to Greyson and violated our home—used our friendship to get inside and plant bugs after Max’s sweep to provide his mother with the information she needed to blackmail us or back us into a corner, whichever it came to.
In the end, Royce was presumed dead in the bay, although his body was never recovered, and Miranda secured one hell of a plea bargain. Who wouldn’t sympathize with a heavily pregnant mom of three who was protecting her children from her husband’s psychotic blood family? Especially when she sang like a damn canary after Thunderstrike got her out.
As of this month, Thunderstrike was a known government initiative, with Jax at the helm. They still relied on retired vets for the bulk of their muscle, and their toys were admittedly a bit nicer due to Greyson’s generous funding.
This time last year, if Grey had told me the big blond wall of muscle beside me would feel like family, I would’ve choked on saliva from snorting so hard. It wasn’t like I needed an extra brother-figure with the six towering smartasses wandering around, but he’d become mine as much as Grey’s. Well, a brother that made inappropriately flirtatious jokes just so he could laugh when I squirmed.
“I mean it though, kid,” he added as we pulled apart. “You look good. Healthy. Happy.”
“I am happy,” I declared with a grin and a flush creeping up my neck. The best part was how deeply I meant it. There was nothing fake or forced—no mask I had to hide behind when the crowd thickened. Joy, while hard fought for, had become synonymous with home for me. This slice of peace Greyson carved out of the chaos for us.
“Good,” he said with a grin, turning to look out over the people beneath the twinkling lights as he tucked me against his side. “You, of all people, deserve it. Enjoy that, you little warrior.”
Okay, so Jax had made a much bigger deal out of me not leaving him for dead in the bottom of the bay than was strictly comfortable. He would’ve done the same for me.
“You deserve that too, you know?” I pressed, earning a side-eye and matching, incredulous smirk.
“I’m not like Grey.”
“No?”
“No,” he scoffed playfully. My growing smirk had him narrowing his eyes down at me. “No meddling,” he barked.
I put my hands up and shook my head. “No idea what you’re talking about, Reynolds. I’m too busy to meddle these days.”
“Better be,” he grumbled, shoving me playfully sideways. “Christ, woman. Grey and Ollie are bad enough. I don’t need it from you, too. Some of us are better off alone.”
“That’s what Greyson said,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, well, Grey’s an idiot.”
I burst out laughing a beat before Leighton scooted up beside me and handed me a martini. “The babies are conspiring against us,” she declared.
“Excellent. Keep this one preoccupied so she can’t be a menace,” Jax grumbled. “Tiny dictators are right up her alley.”
My retort was cut short as someone cut the sound to the live band, the beginning notes of Ice Ice, Baby by Vanilla Ice coming on over the built-in speakers as blue and purple lights began pulsating to the music. Brows merging with my hairline, I looked between Leigh and Jax before we all whirled to the sound of Greyson groaning, “ Max !”
Max’s evil laugh had us all busting at the seams by the time Greyson appeared, still shaking his head as the light show continued. But when his eyes found mine, his scowl splintered into a soft little smile.
“I have a surprise for you,” he murmured, bypassing our company to wrap those glorious palms around my waist as people began to sing along.
“Another one?!” I balked. A cold nose booped my thigh, and I glanced down to see an expectant Cap, like he was in on his crazy daddy’s secret.
“Yeah, baby, another one. Let me steal you for a moment.”
“You get her all the time!” Leighton protested, a little slant to her lips. Whatever occurred in the hours I was out in that hospital, the two of them had forged an adorable friendship—albeit, it was full of sarcasm and friendly jabs they claimed as a love language.
“Just another moment,” he promised, weaving our fingers together.
“Use protection,” Jax barked after us, sending my skin flaming as I glared at Greyson like the fucker’s big mouth was his fault.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered, swallowing his humor.
Curious, I abandoned the chatter of the party and followed my husband into the blue glow of sunset.