Chapter 33 Maverick
MAVERICK
By the time Boone and I finally crawl out of bed, we’re dehydrated and sore as hell, and his cheek right under his eye is bruised.
“Shit. I’m sorry for head butting you,” I say, skimming the marred skin with my fingertips.
“Worth it,” he insists, kissing me.
I’d love to stay in bed, but the sun’s up and my phone has approximately four hundred cousin notifications. Boone offers to bring me breakfast in bed so I can avoid everyone, but I’m done hiding out in my room. Time to confront the family.
Confrontation, as it turns out, might be difficult to achieve, given that the moment we walk into the living room, everyone suddenly becomes an expert at looking anywhere but at us. Which, now that I think about the noise Boone and I made last night…fair.
Oakley mercifully has coffee and biscuits waiting, and I want to hug him for knowing that this conversation cannot be had without caffeine and carbohydrates.
Right as I take my first bite of delicious, flaky goodness, though, the elevator dings, and suddenly my dads, most of my uncles, and Hedy spill into the room.
Boone leans in, whispering, “It’s like a clown car of emotionally repressed assassins.”
I snort as Hedy grabs a coffee and walks to the middle of the room.
“I’m just going to start with this,” she says, her voice authoritative. “Mistakes were made.”
I’m tempted to say something snarky, ala this meeting could’ve been an email, but she seems earnest, so I let her say what needs to be said.
She admits they underestimated me, and that keeping secrets this big was both unfair and hurtful.
“If you didn’t want me involved,” I say, squeezing Boone’s hand for courage, “you could’ve at least trusted me with the truth.”
“You’re right.” She shakes her head. “I should never have put your brother and cousins in a position to lie to you and Oakley or leave either of you out of important conversations.”
Honestly, all the Wildlings needed to hear that.
Dad shifts, uncomfortable. “I also… if I really think about it, I can’t deny that your learning differences colored my choices. At least subconsciously. And that wasn’t right.”
My chest pinches at that, but at least it’s the truth.
My father tears up. “We never should have excluded you,” he admits, his voice hoarse. “That’s on us.”
Dad nods, eyes shining. “We thought we were protecting you. We were wrong.”
My uncles and cousins express the same regrets, their emotions right at the surface.
It’s messy and imperfect, but real.
Oakley adds his voice, steady and calm. “The Wildlings have never been sheltered. We were famous before we even knew what famous was. Knowing our family was fighting the monsters? That could’ve been a comfort.”
There are nods. Some guilt. Maybe relief that it’s finally being said.
Hedy then explains the Whitaker situation—the decades of blackmail, the secret marriage, the legal booby traps he set for the team, knowing they’d eventually take aim at his dirty dealings.
It’s complicated, and honestly, I have no trouble believing that the fate of the Guardians hinged on uncomfortable family dynamics. That is our exact brand of chaos.
“Actually, I have an update on Gina.” She grins when the dads all lean in. “Funnily enough, the one thing Whitaker never anticipated was that his sister would have a moral compass.”
“Wonder what that’s like?” Sy jokes, surprising a laugh out of all of us.
“More importantly, what does that mean for us?” Anders asks, getting to the heart of the matter.
“My dad went to Gina last night and came clean. About all of it.”
She shakes her head. “He was surprised how much of it she had already worked out for herself. The cave full of vigilantes was news to her, but she was fully aware of my mother and me and has been since the beginning.”
Awkward.
“As it turns out, Gina’s been volunteering with women’s and children’s organizations for decades.
She’s long had fantasies of being able to take out the people who harm the population she serves.
She’s turned everything over to me with her blessing and only asked that we keep her children out of it.
” Hedy laughs. “Including her fantasy list of assholes.”
The fathers all collectively let out a relieved breath, which tells me how important that detail actually is. The bottom line is Hedy’s dad told the truth for once, Whitaker’s dead, Gina wants in, the organization isn’t imploding, and everyone deeply regrets not doing this five years ago.
It’s…a lot. But for the first time in days, the air feels lighter.
The elevator dings one more time, and I don’t know if my heart can take it.
Thankfully, Hopper and Liam step into the living room. After Oakley makes sure they get biscuits and coffee, they make their way next to Boone and me.
Hopper, unable to help himself, wraps an arm around Boone’s waist, placing his head on Boone’s shoulder. Given the looks I’m getting, I check in with them.
“Are you two okay to let everyone know?”
Boone nods, and we agree he should be the one to tell the story.
Since he and his mom haven’t talked about her work with Luca, he carefully explains that Hopper and his mother slept together and that he is the result. The room turns to Hopper, and he’s got the biggest smile, with tears rolling down his cheeks.
“I have a son.”
Everyone cries. The uncles offer fatherly advice.
The cousins welcome Boone with wildly inappropriate jokes about how we’re thankfully not related.
Rami remarks that this must be why Boone is both hot and artistic, and I tell him to fuck right off.
Everyone throws their name at Boone and I’m not surprised that he remembers each and every one.
In this moment, watching my family fold him in without hesitation, something unclenches in my ribcage. He chose me long before this. But now my family chooses him too.
We end the gathering with a collective agreement:
The secrets did more harm than good.
Boone is officially family.
I am deeply loved. Loudly, stubbornly, maybe even too much sometimes.
And, somehow, despite everything, we still have reasons to celebrate.
“Steaks?” Hopper suggests, wiping his eyes.
“Steaks,” I say, slipping my hand into Boone’s.
And just like that, everything slides into place.