Chapter 28
PARKER
I stand in the center of them, chest tight.
The garage feels like a cage, but not one meant for punishment—more like a display case, every beam of light exposing me.
Harsh shadows slant across the walls, turning the row of tools into sinister silhouettes.
There is no corner here dark enough to hide in.
“Six years ago,” Jace says finally, his voice measured and even, the kind of control he always wears like armor.
My heart stutters against my ribs. “Six years ago.”
I close my eyes, and I’m back at the joint bachelor/bachelorette party, the cavernous hall pulsing with red and gold lanterns and the low thrum of bass.
I remember the way the stage lights cut through the haze, bathing me in their heat as I danced—bare feet slipping across the varnished wood, every bead of sweat glinting.
I felt their gazes on me: Silas’s hand curling at my waist, Jace’s voice—deep and intimate—whispering in my ear, Cal’s breath hot against my nape as he guided my hips.
In the private booth later, the plush velvet seat pressed cool against my bare thighs as they told me, in voices husky with want, that they didn’t need me to choose. They wanted me entirely.
“I came to the penthouse the night the wedding ended,” I whisper, taste of cool metal on my tongue as I remember the malfunctioning elevator—how its fluorescent lights flickered and the cables groaned, sending me trembling through the shafts. “The doors opened, and there you were. I—I didn’t run.”
Jace’s steel-blue eyes capture mine through the shadows. “You didn’t run. You let us surround you. Let us tell you what we wanted.”
I see it all again—Silas’s broad chest pressing into mine, Jace’s fingers tight around my throat, Cal at my side whispering how beautiful I was. I remember their reverent desperation, how each kiss felt like worship.
“You told us you wanted us,” Jace says. “All of us. You said yes.”
“I did.” My voice cracks like ice. “I do.”
Cal shifts on the workbench, the scent of grease and cedar wood dust rising with him. “And we showed you what that meant. What it could mean to belong to all three of us.”
I taste the memory: Jace’s lips—insistent, claiming—Cal’s trembling hands undressing me, whispering prayers of beauty against my skin, Silas’s rough voice murmuring “firefly” as his fingertips traced patterns of heat down my spine. They worshipped me with every soft, brutal touch.
“And then you left,” Silas says quietly, stepping closer, his storm-gray eyes unreadable.
“I panicked.” The words catch in my throat, tears stinging as they pool.
“I woke up between you and Jace, and Cal was beside us, and I thought—I thought you’d tear each other apart.
” I pull my arms around myself as though I can compress the memories back into stillness.
“You’re practically brothers to one another.
Family. What we did that night—it was beautiful but impossible. I couldn’t be what destroyed you.”
“You thought we’d fight over you,” Cal observes, amber eyes gentle but pointed.
“I believed sharing me would turn toxic,” I admit, voice barely a breath. “I couldn’t watch you resent each other—or me. So, I went home.”
“To California,” Jace says, the words light as dust motes.
“To California.” I meet his gaze, memory sharp. “Where I found out a few weeks later I was pregnant.”
The air in the garage grows charged, thick with truths we’ve all avoided.
“And you didn’t sleep with anyone else after us?” Cal asks slowly.
“Nope.”
“Which means—”
My voice wavers. “That night I was with all three of you. Somehow I conceived twins—two babies, two fathers.”
Silas’s knuckles whiten on the bike’s handlebars. Jace inhales carefully, and Cal’s gaze sears me.
“Different fathers?” Jace asks, voice cautious. “How—”
“The hospital ran routine tests. The doctor called it heteropaternal superfecundation.” I see Cal’s mind clicking into gears, already calculating. “It’s rare. When a woman releases multiple eggs and two sperm fertilize them in close succession.”
The garage is so silent I can hear the hum of the lights overhead.
“Which one is mine?” Silas asks, voice flat.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, pain slicing through me. “I never did paternity tests. I was alone, terrified—” Tears spill free now. “I didn’t want to face what we’d done. To admit I’d been with you three and created this impossible situation.”
“Parker—” Jace starts, stepping off his bike to close the distance.
“I thought about reaching out,” I continue, voice tumbling out. “Especially after they were born. But I feared Dominic would find them, use them—turn them into pawns in his world.” My shoulders tremble. “I couldn’t let that happen.”
Cal’s hand hovers near mine before he picks up my fingers. “So you kept them hidden.”
“Yes.” I lift my gaze, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “I know that was wrong. I know I stole five years from you—from them. I thought I was protecting everyone: you from complication, them from Dominic, myself from—”
“From us?” Silas’s voice is a whisper.
“From losing myself to you.” The admission hangs between us. “From letting you control every part of my life until there was nothing left of me but what you wanted.”
I can feel my body trembling, a storm of longing and fear.
“You were suffocating me before I left for college,” I say, voice quivering. “Making decisions, removing people from my life—controlling every variable. And I loved you—God, I loved you—but I needed to breathe.”
Silas presses forward. “We would’ve protected you.”
“You would’ve taken over,” I counter. “Kept me so locked down I forgot who I was. And eventually, I would’ve resented you—and myself.”
“So you gave up on us,” Silas says, close enough now I can see every flicker in his eyes.
“I compromised.” I let the word fall. “To keep them safe. To keep me whole. To keep you three from destroying each other over a secret you didn’t even know existed.”
Cal slides from the workbench, Jace moves in from the right, Silas from the left. In an instant, I’m surrounded by a circle of heat and presence—years of absence dissolving in the charged air.
“Angel,” Cal murmurs, lifting a hand to catch a tear as it falls. The calloused pad of his thumb brushes my cheek, warm and steady. “We’ve spent years believing we lost you.”
“You were everything,” I whisper, voice fragile. “That was the problem. You were so much there was no room for me.”
Jace’s hand comes up to cradle my other cheek, his fingers brushing through my hair. “Then we’ll make room.” His tone is firm, unwavering. “This time, we let you lead. We listen. We don’t control.”
“And the next time someone tries to touch me, challenge me?” I argue. “It’s been six years, and Silas stabbed a man today.”
“Because he deserved it,” Silas says without hesitation.
“There’s a difference,” Jace adds, his voice measured, “between protecting you from actual threats and controlling your choices. McCoy was a threat. Ryan Matthews asking you to coffee isn’t.”
“Though we fucking hated it,” Cal mutters.
Despite everything, a laugh bubbles out of me—sharp and slightly hysterical. “So what? You’ll just...let me date other people? Go to coffee with men who want me?”
“No,” all three say in unison.
“We’re endgame for you, Princess,” Jace continues. “Stop running from the fact that you want this too.”
The truth hits me like a physical force. My pulse pounds in my ears. “I’m scared,” I admit.
“Good,” Silas says with that rough honesty I love. “Means it matters.”
Jace’s gaze drops to my mouth. “Those boys were raised by a strong woman, but they need their fathers. You need us. You don’t have to carry this alone.”
Tears blur my vision. “I don’t know how not to be alone.”
“Then let us teach you,” Cal says, voice tender. “Let us show you what it means to be loved by three men who would burn the world down for you…and them.”
Fear coils in my gut, but beneath it, something else settles—an ember glowing steadily.
“Okay,” I breathe, the single word a promise.
“Okay?” Silas’s tone is a question wrapped in hope.
“Okay.” Stronger now. “I don’t know how this looks. I don’t know how we do it. But I’m done running.”
“Then don’t,” Jace says simply. “Don’t let the fear win.”
Silas’s mouth is on mine in an instant, the kiss a fierce rush of whiskey warmth and need, his hands pulling me flush against him. I give a soft sound of surrender, every year of longing pouring into that moment.
When we break apart, breath mingling, Cal’s arms sweep around me and spin me toward him. His kiss is playful, teasing, fingertips tracing gentle arcs along my spine, eliciting a gasp.
Before I can catch my breath, Jace closes in, one hand cupping the back of my neck, guiding my lips to his. His kiss is deliberate, possessive—a promise etched in the press of his mouth.
He draws back, and I’m trembling, surrounded by their heat, their hunger, their love.
With my heart hammering, hoping it doesn’t break, I let myself jump.