Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
GIDEON
Silas drives with both hands tight on the wheel, shoulders tense, eyes unfocused in the way people get when they’ve held themselves together too long.
Penelope doesn’t speak for the first mile. I watch her. The curve of her jaw, the pulse in her throat, the faint tremble in her fingers. She just stood in front of her father and detonated every secret Abi tried to bury.
She chose herself.
“Little Menace,” I murmur. “Breathe.”
She exhales shakily. “I’m fine.”
“You’re vibrating.”
“I’m vibrating internally with great composure.”
I huff a short laugh. “Sure.”
She glances at me, eyes bright with the adrenaline crash. “He believed me, Gideon. He actually believed me.”
“I know.” I reach forward, between the seats, and brush a thumb along her thigh. “You did that. You also told him about us. About yourself.”
She lets out a shaky laugh. “I felt like I was going to throw up the entire time.”
“You didn’t,” I say. “You were steady. You were brave. And you didn’t back down.”
She swallows, eyes flicking to me. “Are you proud of me?”
There’s a beat where something hot and protective surges through me.
“I’m beyond proud,” I say. “I’m fucking done for, Penelope.”
She blushes, and the rest of the ride is quiet.
By the time we pull into her parking spot, she’s pale with exhaustion.
“I need to lie down,” she whispers.
“I’m coming with you.”
She doesn’t argue.
Inside, Talon is on his feet instantly, eyes searching her face like he expects to find bruises. Minxy is right behind him, cereal bowl in hand. Silas watches from behind, arms crossed but tense.
“What happened?” Talon asks.
“He believed me,” Penelope says softly.
Then her knees wobble.
I catch her before she tips.
“She needs rest,” I tell them. “This was a lot.”
Silas nods once, all clipped control, but there’s relief under it. “Go,” he says quietly. “We’ll handle everything else.”
Talon looks torn, like he wants to wrap himself around her until she never feels like this again.
Silas steps forward, voice gentler than it’s been all day.
“I was with her. I know she’s okay,” he says. “You two go be with her now. I’ll hang out with our sassy little niece.”
Minxy lights up. “Finally. Someone to share my emotional support cereal.”
Penelope manages a faint groan. “Silas, don’t get used to cereal for snack.”
“I make no promises,” he deadpans, but his eyes are soft on her. Then he jerks his chin toward the hallway. “Go. She needs you both.”
He steps aside, giving us space to guide her to the bedroom while he and Minxy drift toward the kitchen. I guide Penelope to the bedroom. Talon trails behind us, worry written in every line of his face.
She sinks onto the edge of the bed, and I brush a hand down her spine.
“You want me to stay?” I ask.
She nods.
Talon starts backing out the door. “I’ll give you space.”
“Talon,” Penelope says softly.
He pauses.
“Stay.”
His breath stutters. He steps back inside, quiet but hopeful.
I sit beside her, tipping her chin toward me. “Lie down.”
She stretches out, hair spilling across the pillow. She looks wrung out and beautiful and mine in ways I don’t have language for.
Talon stands awkwardly near the foot of the bed.
I reach forward, curl a finger in Penelope’s waistband, and tug her closer. “You want him here?” I murmur.
Her eyes meet mine. “I want both of you.”
Talon freezes like he’s afraid the moment will evaporate if he moves wrong.
I take his wrist and guide him beside her. “Get over here.”
He sinks onto the bed, eyes locked on hers. “You did good, too. Your sister is safe because of you.”
His breath shakes. “I… I just want you okay.”
“I am,” she whispers. “I want you.”
That’s all it takes.
Something in Talon snaps—not in a rough way, but in a stunned disbelief that she’s choosing him again. He sits up slowly, hands trembling just enough to give him away, and cups her face like he needs to memorize how she looks in this moment.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
She climbs onto his lap, knees bracketing his thighs. His hands slide down her sides, hesitant at first, then bolder when she leans into him instead of away.
“Pen…” His voice breaks.
“Touch me,” she breathes.
He does.
Talon lifts the hem of her shirt, knuckles brushing her stomach, and she lifts her arms without being asked. He pulls the shirt over her head and drops it blindly to the floor, eyes never leaving hers. His fingers trace the new lines of bare skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.
Penelope reaches for him, tugging at the fabric of his T-shirt. He raises his arms, letting her peel it off. The shirt beneath follows, and when her palms glide over his chest, his eyes flutter shut, breath shuddering out of him.
I watch them, stripping quietly, shirt first, then the belt, then the rest—each movement slow, controlled, deliberate. My gaze never leaves her.
Penelope notices. Her lips part. She reaches back with one hand, inviting me closer without words.
I move behind her, my hands settling on her waist. She melts between us.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur.
Talon’s hands slide lower, mouth parting in awe.
All three of us are breathing each other in until clothes are nothing but a forgotten heap on the floor.
Talon sucks a nipple into his mouth, and I waste no time in running a hand to her pussy and rubbing her clit. She moans at the touch, and I move my finger up and down her little nub before sinking it into her cunt.
“So eager and wet for us already.” I smile.
“I don’t want foreplay. Just fuck me,” she breathes.
I pull out of her and within seconds, Penelope is riding Talon, her hands braced on his chest, her head tipped back in a soft moan. He grips her hips like he’s holding something sacred and impossible.
“Pen…” he chokes, fingers digging into her waist as she moves. “Slow down or I’m gonna—”
“No,” she murmurs, voice wrecked and certain. “I need you…”
The way she says it unravels him…unravels me.
I move behind her, sliding my palms down the warm line of her spine until she straightens against me, her back pressed to my chest. She shivers when my mouth brushes her shoulder. She tilts her head just enough that her lips graze my jaw.
Everything in me tightens.
“You’re sure?” I murmur against her ear, giving her one last out.
She nods without hesitation, breath trembling. “Please… I want this. I want both of you.”
Talon’s eyes shut hard, like the words hit him straight in the soul.
I guide her with slow hands, steady hands, making sure she feels every inch of control.
She softens against me, trusting me to hold her up even as her thighs tremble around Talon’s hips.
Talon grips her like he’s anchoring himself, forehead dropping to her chest as she rocks into him with a desperate, beautiful kind of abandon.
“Jesus, Penelope…” he breathes, voice raw. “You’re—God, you’re everything.”
I drag my fingers through her slick first, coating myself with everything she’s already pouring for us. When I finally press into her tight little hole, she gasps, clutching Talon’s shoulders.
“Good girl,” I murmur.
We move together, Talon gripping her thighs, her hands fisted in his hair, my chest pressed to her back as I take her slow and deep. I can feel the thin barrier between Talon and me. I don’t care. I just want to make her feel good.
I pick up my pace, pounding into her harder, making her ride Talon faster, I don’t stop until she falls apart crying our names. Her body locks up as a shiver runs through her, and she pants riding out her orgasm.
Talon finishes with a broken sound, pulling her flush against him. I spill inside her a moment later, teeth grazing her shoulder. She collapses between us, boneless and warm.
We clean her gently. Talon wipes her thighs with a warm cloth in slow and reverent strokes like he’s afraid to rush her.
I use another cloth to trace up her spine, across her hips, along the inside of her arms where her skin shivers under the heat.
She doesn’t flinch or tense. She just melts, pliant and trusting between us, her breaths long and steady as we take care of her.
Talon kisses her before sliding her next to him and pulling a blanket over her legs. I cup her jaw, wiping the sweat from her temple, and she leans into the touch.
“Good?” I murmur, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone.
Her eyes flutter halfway open. She gives a tiny, exhausted nod. “Yeah. I feel… loved.”
That four letter word hangs in the air.
Talon lies next to her and tucks her against his chest, one arm draping over her waist with a protective instinct.
She curls into him naturally, fitting into the curve of his body as if she’s done it for years.
I slide in close, pressing my body along her front, kissing the pulse at her throat while she hums softly.
There’s no panic in her muscles, no hesitation in her hands as they rest on both of us, no guilt darkening her expression.
Her breathing softens after a minute. Her lashes brush her cheeks, heavy with exhaustion.
Talon strokes her hair, long slow motions over the crown of her head, soothing her deeper into the quiet.
“She’s out,” he whispers.
“Good,” I answer, sliding a hand to her ribs, feeling the rise and fall of her breath under my palm. “She needs rest.”
We stay like that for a long, quiet stretch—Penelope tucked between us, her body soft and warm, her breath evening out as the adrenaline finally burns off.
His fingers never stop moving, drawing light, absentminded circles on her hip as if he can soothe her even in sleep. The boy looks undone in the best way—protective, overwhelmed, completely hers.
Her legs shift against mine beneath the blanket, searching for a place to settle. Talon’s eyes drift shut and his breathing slows. Penelope’s lashes flutter once, then sink again. Her fingers curl loosely in the sheets, but her body stays pressed between ours.
A soft sound escapes her, content and barely there.
Talon’s head tips back against the pillow, his hand still moving even half-asleep. My own eyes start to drag closed.
Eventually sleep takes me too. Three tangled bodies under one blanket.
When we finally wake up, the sun’s lower in the sky and Penelope’s hair is plastered to Talon’s chest. She insists on making dinner.
“I need normal human tasks,” she says, pulling out spaghetti noodles and sauce. “If I sit still too long, my brain will explode.”
Silas helps her chop onions, Talon rolls meatballs and I toast garlic bread while Minxy sits on the counter swinging her legs.
“So you guys all share a girl,” Minxy says casually as she snacks on some veggie straws. “How would a wedding work? Do you take turns? Do two walk her down the aisle and one carries the rings? Would she get pregnant? Who’d the dad be? Do we draw straws? Spin a wheel?”
Talon chokes on the drink of water he just took so violently Penelope has to thump his back.
Silas freezes mid-stir and stares at Penelope’s stomach like she’s carrying his child right now and I don’t miss the heat in his gaze.
I shrug. “Legally? A nightmare. Logistically? Very doable. Biologically? We’d handle whatever happened.”
Penelope turns the deepest shade of red I’ve ever seen.
“Can we not talk about my uterus during dinner?” she squeaks.
Minxy lifts her hands. “I’m just planning ahead.”
Silas steps behind Penelope and wraps a hand around her waist. “Don’t worry. She’s getting ahead of herself.”
“Yeah,” Talon croaks. “Way ahead.”
I plate the spaghetti. “Eat. We’ll deal with existential family planning later.”
Dinner is perfect with the five of us—bread passed around, Minxy teasing Talon, Penelope laughing against Silas’ shoulder whenever he murmurs something dirty in her ear just to watch her blush.
For the first time all day, everything feels almost normal.
We clean up together, bumping hips, stealing kisses, trading soft touches across the kitchen.
By the time we crawl into bed—Penelope between Silas and Talon and me at the foot of the bed, not because I’m unwanted, but because I sleep lightly when the world is shifting under our feet.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow we show the truth to Chad, and then we go to the cops.