Chapter 20
Aimee
The lighting at Root & Bone was warm and amber-tinted, adding to the cozy feel of my favorite restaurant.
Copper pots hung from the ceiling, catching the light and reflecting it back onto the exposed brick walls while servers in denim aprons bustled between reclaimed wooden tables.
After weeks of living in terror, of jumping at every sound and seeing danger in every shadow, simply sitting in a restaurant felt like an act of rebellion.
I hadn’t realized how badly I’d needed this until I was here, wine glass in hand, watching Troy and Rhett argue over the last bite of the heirloom tomato tart we’d shared as an appetizer.
“You had two pieces already.” Troy’s fork hovered defensively over the plate.
“Yeah, but they were smaller.” Rhett’s blue-gray eyes sparkled with mischief as he made a theatrical lunge for the last morsel. “Besides, I need to keep up my strength. For reasons.” He winked at me, and I felt heat rush to my cheeks despite myself.
“For Christ’s sake.” Troy rolled his eyes. “Fine, take it, you bottomless pit.” But he was smiling as he pushed the plate toward Rhett, his hand lingering just a moment too long. They loved each other dearly, and they were so damn perfect for each other that it hurt.
Another sip of wine, the rich cabernet rolling across my tongue as I studied them.
Troy, with his warm brown skin and attentive eyes that missed nothing, seeming to know what I needed before I even knew myself.
Rhett, with his perpetually disheveled hair and easy smile that concealed an unexpected depth, his protectiveness wrapped in jokes and casual touches.
They’d been my safety net these past weeks, shielding me from the nightmares that had taken up residence in my mind since the snakes.
“What?” Troy caught me watching them. “Do I have food on my face?”
A shake of my head, smiling. “Just thinking how nice this is. Being out. Not jumping at every shadow.”
“It’s good to see you relaxed,” Troy said, his voice softening. “You’ve been holding so much tension in your shoulders.” He reached across the table, his fingers briefly squeezing mine. “It’s not good for you.”
“Says the firefighter with the most stress-induced knots I’ve ever felt.” I turned my hand to catch his before he could pull away. “Seriously though, thank you for this. For everything.”
Before either man could respond, my phone buzzed against the wooden tabletop, Detective Joyce’s name lighting up the screen. My stomach dropped, the pleasant warmth of the evening suddenly evaporating. Troy and Rhett both tensed, their easy smiles faltering as they watched me pick up the phone.
“It’s Joyce.” My thumb hovered over the screen. “I should take this.”
Troy nodded, his eyes on my face as I accepted the call.
“Detective. Is everything okay?”
“Better than okay, Ms. Hale.” Something in her tone made me sit up straighter. “We’ve made an arrest. The suspect is in custody.”
The world seemed to tilt, sound becoming muffled as if I were underwater. “What? How?”
“That package you reported contained an improvised explosive device. Crude, but effective enough to cause harm. He likely found the plans online.” “Oh,” I whispered.
“The bomb squad’s analysis gave us trace evidence, and that, combined with the footage from Mr. Donovan’s doorbell camera, and the information from your neighbor and the snake sanctuary gave us enough for a warrant. ”
“I can’t believe it was really a bomb.” “A bomb?” Troy and Rhett leaned forward, concern etched on their faces. “Who was it?”
“James Newell. Does that name ring a bell?”
Eyes closed, searching my memory. “Newell... No, I don’t think so.”
“We found evidence that he’s affiliated with an ultra-conservative religious movement.
In his apartment, we found evidence linking him to the snake incident and several threatening emails sent to your podcast account.
He was apparently triggered by an episode you did on toxic masculinity. Claimed you were ‘destroying men.’”
A shaky breath escaped, my head spinning. “Shit.”
“He’s being charged with attempted murder, among other things. He won’t be getting out anytime soon. You’re safe now.”
“Thank you.” My throat was tight. “Thank you for catching him, and for letting me know.”
“Get some rest. We’ll need you to come in tomorrow to make a formal statement, but for now, enjoy your evening.”
The call ended, and for a long moment, I stared at my phone, unable to fully process what I’d just heard. Then I looked up at Troy and Rhett, who were watching me with guarded hope in their eyes.
“They caught him.” My chest felt tight. “The package had a bomb in it. Can you believe that? If I’d opened it...” The thought was too terrible to complete.
“Who was it?” Troy’s hand tightened around mine.
“Some anonymous psycho. Apparently, I emasculated him with my podcast about toxic masculinity.” A laugh that sounded more like a sob.
“But they have him now,” Rhett said, reaching for my other hand. “He can’t hurt you.”
“Joyce said he’s being charged with attempted murder. He’s going away for a long time.”
A moment of silence fell over our table as the information sank in. Then Rhett’s face split into a wide grin.
“This calls for some good dessert.” He flagged down our server. “Your most decadent chocolate thing, please. We’re celebrating!”
“Rhett only celebrates with food.”
“I’m not complaining. I like cake.”
“Tonight is my treat. My best girl just found out she’s not being stalked by a psycho anymore. It’s a cause for celebration!”
My heart clenched at his words. My best girl. Like I belonged to him. To them. The phrase settled over me like a warm blanket, comforting and terrifying all at once.
The cake arrived, and Rhett gave each of us a fork, then dug in, holding up his fork for a toast.
“To Detective Joyce and her team,” he said. “For keeping our girl safe.”
“To doorbell cameras.” Troy’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he dug his fork in and held it up.
“And to the two men who’ve kept me sane through all of this,” I said, clinking my fork against theirs. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
As we devoured the cake, I felt a curious mix of emotions washing over me. Relief, certainly—overwhelming relief that the nightmare was over, that I could walk down the street without looking over my shoulder. But beneath that was something else. Something that felt like loss.
With the threat gone, there was no reason for me to stay in their apartment anymore.
No reason for us to sleep tangled together, finding comfort in each other’s warmth.
No reason for the easy domesticity we’d fallen into—Rhett cooking breakfast while Troy and I argued over the crossword, all of us curled on the couch with the kittens in the evenings, watching bad reality TV and making worse jokes.
It had been temporary from the start. A solution to a problem that no longer existed.
As we finished our meal and Rhett paid the bill, the realization sat heavy in my chest. I’d grown accustomed to their presence, to the constant hum of their voices, to not being alone with my thoughts.
What would it be like to go back to my empty apartment?
To sleep alone again? To wake up without Rhett’s sleepy smile or the comforting weight of Troy’s arms around me?
Outside, the night air was crisp with early fall, the streets of Larimer quieter now as we started walking back toward our building. Troy’s hand found mine, his fingers intertwining naturally. Rhett walked on my other side, close enough that our shoulders brushed with every step.
“Your place is going to need a deep clean.” Troy broke the comfortable silence. “And an exterminator for the snakes.”
“I don’t think we need to worry about the snakes,” Rhett said.
“We always need to worry about snakes.”
“I guess I can move back home.” Oh fuck, why had I said that? The words hung in the air, impossible to take back before the guys heard them.
Troy’s hand stiffened in mine, his stride faltering for just a moment. “If that’s what you want.” His tone was unnaturally even. Was he upset?
A glance at Rhett showed his face had gone blank, his usual expressiveness shuttered behind a mask of studied neutrality. He nodded once, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
“Makes sense.” His tone was flat. “No point staying in our place when you’ve got a whole apartment across the hall.”
The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees between us, an icy silence descending as we continued walking.
The words replayed frantically in my mind, trying to understand what had caused such a dramatic shift.
But it was obvious, wasn’t it? They thought I was ready to end whatever this thing between us was.
Except I wasn’t. Not even close. But how did I ask for what I needed after so many days of pretending it was all casual?
We reached our building and entered the lobby, the awkward silence stretching between us like an invisible wall.
Troy pressed the elevator button, his movements stiff, deliberate.
Rhett stared at the floor numbers above the doors, his jaw tight.
We stepped inside when the doors opened, and I felt a rising panic as we ascended.
Five floors had never seemed so quick before.
The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open on our floor. Troy moved immediately to their apartment, fishing keys from his pocket.
“I can grab my stuff tomorrow. It’s late, and I—”
Rhett made a distressed sound.
“No rush.” Troy’s voice was sharp. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Frozen between the two apartments, unable to cross the threshold into mine. The thought of stepping back into that empty space, of closing the door on what we’d built together, made my chest ache.
“Good night, Aims.” The resigned finality in Rhett’s tone jolted me into action. My hand was on my doorknob, the click of the lock and the creak of the hinges as they opened theirs. Oh fuck. I was fucking this up.
“Wait.” Rhett’s arm under my hand as he moved to follow Troy inside. “Just... wait.”
They both turned to me, guarded hope in their eyes.
“Do you...” My throat felt thick, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Do you want me to stay? To be your… whatever this is?”
The vulnerability was terrifying. Years spent building walls, protecting myself from this kind of exposure. But standing there, caught between two lives—the independent one I’d constructed and the messier, shared existence we’d created together—I was willing to risk it.
Troy’s expression softened, something raw and honest breaking through his careful composure. “Aimee,” he said, my name like a caress on his lips. “We don’t want you to leave. We never did.”
“But the stalker is caught. The danger is gone. You don’t need to protect me anymore.”
“You think that’s why we want you with us?” Rhett stepped closer. “Because we think you need protecting?”
“I don’t know. I just know I don’t want to go back to being alone. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
Troy moved forward, taking my hands in his. “Aimee, we care about you. Both of us. So much.”
“Love you.” Rhett’s voice was rough with emotion. “We love you, Aims.”
My breath caught. “But what about the two of you?” The question that had been lingering in the back of my mind for weeks finally found voice. “Where do I fit in that?”
Troy and Rhett exchanged a look, something intense passing between them—a silent communication honed by years of friendship and months of something deeper. Then Troy turned back to me, his dark eyes serious.
“We love each other, too,” he said quietly. “But there’s space in our hearts for you.”
“We’re better with you.” Rhett moved to stand beside Troy, his hand coming to rest on the small of my back. “Happier. More complete. Hell, you brought us together, saw that there was more to our bromance than just friendship. You make us whole.”
Looking between them, these two men who had somehow worked their way past every defense I’d ever built. “I’m scared. After Garrett...”
“We’ll take it slow, if you need to,” Troy said with a small laugh. “But we’re all in. We want to figure it out together, if that’s what you want.”
“I want to.” I whispered it, stepping forward into their embrace, feeling their arms wrap around me, solid and secure. “I want to stay.”
Rhett pressed a kiss to my temple, thick with emotion. “We love you, Aims.”
“I love you, too. Both of you.”
“Come on. Let’s go home. There’s no fucking way I’m going back into your apartment. It’s infested with death noodles.” Troy dragged me towards their door.
Laughter bubbled up, hugging him close. “Your place it is.”