25. Bailey
BAILEY
At first, all I see is red.
Sean comes through the front door with Huck half leaning on him, and for a second I think my body forgets how to exist. Huck is huge, bent and bleeding.
The blood is everywhere. It streaks down his arm, soaks his shirt, splatters Sean’s sleeve. My chest caves in. My ears ring. For one awful second I think I’m going to faint, and I hate myself for it, because he’s the injured one, not me.
I shove forward anyway, almost tripping over my own feet in the rush to reach him. “What—what happened?” My voice comes out high, too sharp. I reach for Huck without knowing where to touch. He’s too broad, too solid, and still, all I see is red.
“Relax, sweetheart,” Huck grits out, even as Sean lowers him toward the couch. His voice is steady in that infuriating way, as if he doesn’t have blood soaking through to the bone. “It’s nothing. Just a flesh wound.”
“A flesh wound? You’re—God, you’re bleeding all over?—”
“I’ve bled worse,” he says, as if that’s supposed to soothe me. He even manages a half smile, but it’s tight at the corners, and his skin has gone pale beneath the lamplight.
Sean doesn’t smile. His jaw is clenched, his eyes sharp as razors. He eases Huck down, already tearing the sleeve wider with his free hand. “Sit. Don’t argue.”
Wesley barrels in a second later, a first aid kit in his arms. “Move,” he snaps, dropping hard to his knees by Huck’s side. Gauze and tape spill out in neat, practiced motions.
I hover, useless, my pulse battering my ribs. “Tell me what happened.”
Huck closes his eyes for a beat, exhales like this is all boring. “Found someone in the hedges. Big guy. Knew how to fight.”
Sean presses a wad of cloth against the wound, and Huck hisses, teeth flashing.
“He was planting something,” Huck goes on, as if he’s reading me the weather report. “Had a bag full of explosives. Already set one at the front steps.”
Explosives.
The word punches me straight through. My mouth goes dry, and I stumble back half a step, catching myself on the edge of the coffee table. “Explosives? You mean—bombs?”
“Yeah.” Huck opens his eyes, meets mine with a steadiness that terrifies me more than the wound. “Enough to take the house down and more.”
I can’t breathe. The room tilts. The walls feel like they’re bending inward, suffocating.
Wesley slaps Huck’s hand away when he tries to shift. “Hold still.” His voice is sharp, controlled. He works with quick efficiency, hands moving like he’s done this a hundred times.
Sean doesn’t look at me, doesn’t explain, doesn’t soften. His whole focus is Huck, but I can feel the tension rolling off him. It’s in the way he leans into the pressure, the way his shoulders are set like stone.
“I’m fine,” Huck mutters, though the line of his mouth betrays the lie.
“Shut up,” Wesley fires back. “You’re not fine, you’re leaking like a goddamn sieve.”
“I’ve had worse.” Huck tries to smirk, but it falters when Sean tightens the gauze. He winces, breath whistling through his teeth.
“You’ve had worse, we’ve all had worse,” Sean says finally, low and clipped. “Doesn’t mean you get to play hero and bleed out on Bailey’s couch.”
My couch. My house. My everything. All of it could’ve been blown sky-high if Huck hadn’t been out there.
The thought hits like a wave, harder than the sight of the blood.
The bag he described, the device at the stairs—it wasn’t just him.
If Sean and Wesley had been out there too, if all three of them had walked into it, I wouldn’t be standing in this living room watching them.
I’d be standing in rubble, or worse, I wouldn’t be standing at all.
And then my mind goes where I don’t want it to. What if Maeve and Eli had been here? What if I’d tucked them into their beds, kissed them goodnight, and then the house had turned to fire around us?
Bile rises hot in my throat. I grip the edge of the table harder, trying to stop the tremor in my hands.
I can’t lose them. Any of them. Not my kids. Not the men who’ve somehow become my safety net.
But the more I look at Huck, pale and bleeding but still stubbornly upright, the more the panic sharpens to guilt. I did this. I brought them here. They’re targets because of me.
The words bubble up before I can stop them. “You have to leave.”
Sean’s head snaps up, eyes locking on me. “No.”
“You don’t understand,” I stammer, chest tightening. “If they’d gone off, it would’ve killed you. All of you. And for what? Because of me? Because some lunatic wants to scare me or silence me? I can’t?—”
“Bailey.” Sean’s voice slices the air. “We’re not leaving.”
Wesley glances up, his eyes hard, echoing the same truth. Huck, still bleeding, still smirking through it, rasps, “Sorry, sweetheart. You’re stuck with us.” He’s patched up. They don’t think he needs a hospital, or they’d have taken him. He’ll be fine.
For now.
The floor feels unsteady. My heart is hammering so fast I can’t slow it. I shake my head, whispering, “I can’t accept that. I can’t live with the thought of you being collateral damage?—”
Sean cuts me off, voice steel. “You don’t get to decide. We’re here. We stay. End of discussion.”
The heat in his gaze pins me where I stand.
I want to scream, to fight him, to make him understand how much this terrifies me. But the words won’t come. My throat is tight, my eyes burning. Something is clawing to get out. That gnawing in my brain, the panic in my bones, it’s loud and demands to scream or cry or punch a wall or?—
I cross the room in a rush, grab Sean’s collar, and crash my mouth to his.
He’s solid under me, steady, and the kiss is ragged, rough.
Wesley’s hand comes to my back, sliding up, pulling me between them.
Huck groans low from the couch, pain and want tangling in his voice, and when I tear myself from Sean long enough to crawl onto Huck and kiss him too, my whole body shudders with relief and desperation.
I don’t think. I can’t. I just need them.
I’m grinding on Huck without a thought, when Wesley drags me back by the hips.
He’s all focus, his fingers sliding under my shirt like he’s determined to prove I’m not going to disappear if he holds me tight enough.
My breath hitches, a half sob, half moan, and I feel Huck’s heat against my side, his body enormous and solid even while he’s injured.
I break from them long enough to look at Huck, terrified at how pale he still looks, but he hooks his good arm around me and hauls me against him with a strength that makes me tremble.
“I’m not made of glass, sweetheart,” he growls, then kisses me like he’s starving.
The taste of copper and sweat only makes it more desperate.
Wesley presses close from behind, his mouth hot at my throat, his hands framing my waist, sliding lower.
Sean doesn’t back off either—he never does.
He claims my jaw, biting lightly before his tongue soothes the sting.
They peel my clothes off, and I don’t stop them.
I need this. Need them. My pulse is a roar in my ears.
I’m surrounded, caged, protected, consumed.
The fear in me—the bombs, the blood, the thought of losing them—it doesn’t disappear, but need takes over.
“Let us take it,” Wesley whispers, lips brushing my ear. “Let us take everything you’re carrying.”
The thought terrifies me. How can anyone do that? I trusted David, and it all went to hell.
I take a swift breath, sorting through the noise in my head. I whisper, “I don’t know how.”
He cups my chin, his thumb drawing a line over my bottom lip as his dark eyes pierce me. “Let us show you.”
I nod, and he turns me to face the others as my head falls back against his shoulder. My chest rises fast, guilt trying to take hold again. I should stop this, should push them away before this eats me whole. But they’re too close, and I need them too much to turn them away.
Sean groans, gaze scorching, possessive, like he’s cataloging every inch of me. Wesley’s hands are already on my bare skin. Huck’s good hand cups my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple until I gasp and arch. Each of them tears at their own clothes as they toy with me.
“You’re shaking,” Sean murmurs, dragging his mouth down my throat. “Do we scare you?”
“I’m not scared,” I whisper back. “Not of you.”
“Good.” His teeth scrape my collarbone, and I cry out, clutching at him.
The three of them move in a rhythm I can’t follow—hands sliding, mouths claiming, bodies pressing until I’m nothing but sensation.
Huck leans forward, kissing me again, deep and hungry.
Wesley pulls me back against him, his hardness hot against me, his breath ragged as he murmurs my name.
Sean drops lower, his hands gripping my thighs, spreading me until I’m trembling.
It’s too much. It’s not enough. I can’t hold it all, can’t keep the sounds in my throat from spilling out. I hear myself begging—please, please, more—and they answer without hesitation.
Huck shifts me onto his lap, his size dwarfing me, his bandaged arm braced but his other hand guiding me exactly where he wants me, down his thick shaft.
I grind against him, desperate, sparks shooting through me as Wesley sits on the back of the couch to the side of Huck, his cock right there, hard for the taking.
I suck him between my lips, relishing the tight gasp from him.
Sean hovers close, kissing my neck until I can’t breathe, whispering filthy encouragement that makes my body clench and my vision blur.
His cock sits at my ass, awaiting an invitation.
I reach back and aim him in there, letting him take the hint.
He carefully works his way into me, sliding out when Huck hoists his hips upward, and thrusting in when Huck glides low. Wesley hits the back of my throat, gagging me, making me lose oxygen just enough to make me hazy.
Just enough to get me there.
I come undone once, then again, my cries muffled by Wesley’s cock. They don’t let up, don’t let me retreat, pulling me back into wave after wave until I’m sobbing with it, until my body feels scraped raw and alive. Another, and another hit in quick succession, and my skin is on fire.
Huck groans, “Fuck, princess, you’re so damn wet. Making such a mess, I’m gonna make you lick me clean.”
I whimper at the thought, and again every time Sean thrusts up my ass. He’s going slow, but it’s intense. That edge of pain keeps me coming, and the heat builds in my core again. My fingers plant in Huck’s shoulders, careful of his bandage. It’s red again, but I don’t think he cares.
“So fucking beautiful,” Wesley murmurs, licking his lips like he can’t get enough of me. His eyes are dark, fixed on me like I’m something holy.
“Mine,” Sean growls into my neck, his hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise.
“Ours,” Huck finishes, voice a wrecked rasp.
Sean fits as deep as he can, and that extra push sends me spiking through another climax, this one stealing my breath. When it’s over, they disengage, separating and laying me down on the couch so I can breathe. But I don’t want that. Breathing leads to thinking, and thinking leads to disaster.
I drag Sean closer, reaching for Wesley, kissing Huck again, greedy and terrified all at once.
Huck wedges his face between my thighs, that tongue ring of his dancing around my clit as his fingers nudge slightly into me.
Only slightly. Up, down, up, down. Never entering fully, only teasing.
I’m twitching on the couch, desperate for more. “Please?—”
He keeps his fingers in me, but leans over my body. “Time to clean me up, princess.” He props himself up so I can take his cock in my mouth, licking my wetness off of him as he fingers me. When his thumb glides over my clit, I explode on his fingers.
And then, the other two play twister with me, one in my mouth, the other in my pussy.
They take turns filling me, surrounding me, their bodies relentless and tender, giving me everything and demanding nothing but the truth of my need.
Back and forth, up and down, full, so full, close to bursting until I can’t see straight.
By the time I’m spent, my skin is slick with sweat and my throat raw from moaning their names, I can’t remember where the guilt ends and the love begins. All I know is that I’m theirs, completely, and that the thought of losing them is unbearable.
Sean tucks me against his chest, his lips pressed to my hair. Wesley strokes my arm. Huck’s arm cages me to his side, careful with the bandage but unwilling to let me go.
“You’re not sending us away,” Sean murmurs again, and this time I don’t fight it.
“You know I don’t want to.”
“I know you’re not going to either.”
I hate that he’s right. At this point, I can’t send them away, no matter how much I think it’s the right thing to do. The truth is I need them. Not only for protection.
I love them. With all my heart. Part of me always has.
“It’s selfish to make you three stay with me, knowing what’s on the line.”
Wesley snorts. “Make us? Do we look like the kind of men who someone could make stay somewhere they don’t want to be?”
“Obviously not, but you know what I mean.”
Huck murmurs against my shoulder, “Kick us out. See how effective that is.”
I roll my eyes and let their breathing lull me to sleep. No point in arguing with these three and I know it. Never worked when we were kids. It’s not going to work now.
I just hope I don’t get them killed.