14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Wrenley
The room is dim, pale morning light filtering through the curtains. Somewhere between Max and Reaper, the world finally goes quiet. I feel safe, safer than I ever have.
Max is on one side of me, his hand splayed across Reaper’s thigh like it belongs there.
Reaper is draped across the other side, his long leg thrown over mine like I might try and slip away if he doesn’t anchor me down.
I don’t move. I just breathe, listening to the soft cadence of theirs. Letting the silence wrap around us.
This is the bubble. The one I never want to break. The door creaks open. I don’t flinch.
Margot slips inside like she’s sneaking into a crime scene, her fingers wiggling in the air like a cartoon villain. She spots the sleeping arrangement and clamps her lips together trying desperately to stop the laugh trying to claw its way out.
Her shoulders bounce once, then she loses it. Giggling like a menace. I can’t help it, I giggle too.
Reaper stirs first. His voice is rough with sleep. “What’s funny?’
I look down, amused. “That’s not my hand.”
Max groans beside me, blinking himself awake. “What?”
Liam lifts his head, scanning the tangle of limbs and in a tone of rare, biting sarcasm says. “First the neck nuzzling, now this? At least buy me dinner next time, Blackwood.”
Max just laughs, removing his hand and rubbing it over his face. “You’re the one who always hogs the middle.”
Margot beams from the doorway. “One of the many sacrifices of a throuple bed, gentlemen.”
I roll my eyes and stretch beneath the weight of them both, looking toward her. “Okay, what do you want, you menace?”
“Brunch with my mom, it’s an apology for storming into her house last night. And of course shopping day, babe,” she says, already backing out of the room. “And before you two get all broody and territorial, yes, someone is coming with us. And no, it’s not one of you.”
Liam’s head drops back to the pillow with a sigh of relief.
Max mutters, “We’re not territorial.”
I snort, “You literally threatened to have someone’s spine rearranged because they looked at me too long last week.”
Max shrugs. “He was staring.”
Liam smirks. “He’s lucky I wasn’t there too.”
Margot calls from the hallway, “I’ll give you twenty to get dressed, or I’m coming back in with a bucket of ice water!”
I lean up and kiss both of them on the cheek. “Try not to miss me too much.”
Max catches my wrist, pulling me in for one more kiss. “Bring home something that’ll make us regret letting you leave.”
Liam hums. “Preferably leather.”
I wink, grabbing the robe from the foot of the bed. “Noted.”
We take Julie to a small brunch place just off Main Street in Northwyck. The kind with outdoor seating, mismatched chairs, and flowers on every table. It’s the kind of place that makes the world feel simple, and nothing bad ever happens before noon. Julie loves this place.
She’s smiling when the waitress brings coffee, thanking her. It's just a ceramic mug and burnt espresso, but in a place like this it feels precious. Margot sits across from her, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, looking almost relaxed for the first time since last night.
They look so much alike it almost makes my chest ache.
Same eyes. Same smile. Same soft way of looking at the people they love.
The only real difference is the hair, Julie’s warm brown, Margot’s blonde, but even that feels like a technicality.
If you put them side by side in old photographs, no one would need labels to know they were mother and daughter.
Julie reaches across the table and squeezes Margot’s hand. “You two didn’t have to bring me out, sweetheart,” she says. “I’m fine really.”
Margot smiles, but I can see the tightness in it. “Mom. You got woken up by the three of us like armed lunatics at five in the morning.” she says. “You’re getting fancy pancakes at the very least.”
Julie laughs softly at that, shaking her head. She looks at me then, and her expression warms even more.
“I used to have you girls in my kitchen every weekend,” she says. “You remember that? You two eating me out of house and home like you hadn’t seen food in weeks.”
I smile before I can stop myself. “I remember your cinnamon rolls,” I tell her. “I still think about those.”
She beams like I just handed her an award.
Julies was always like this. Warm, easy, and loving in a way that didn’t ask for anything in return.
Growing up, Margot’s house became an escape.
It was stepping into a different world, one where people hugged you for no reason and asked how your day was and actually waited for an answer.
It was the opposite of my house. The opposite of my mother.
I spent more weekends at Margot’s than I ever admitted out loud.
Julies reaches over and pats my hand. “You were always such a serious little thing,” she says gently. “Margot was the troublemaker. You were the one who looked like you were already running a company at fourteen.”
Margot snorts. “She still does.”
I roll my eyes but don’t argue.
For a little while, it almost feels normal. Coffee, pancakes, sunlight, Margot stealing bacon off Julie’s plate like she’s sixteen again. For a few minutes, the world is just brunch, laughter, and warm syrup, not the mess we left behind last night.
Julie sets her fork down. The change is small, but I see it immediately. They way her shoulders straighten. The way her eyes move between Margot and me.
“So,” she says gently, “Are one of you going to tell me why I woke up to Margot and her boyfriends clearing my house like a SWAT team?”
I give a small nod. Margot exhales slowly looking at her mother. “There’s someone we’ve been dealing with,” she says carefully. “Someone from a long time ago.”
She nods already knowing the answer. “Sebastian,” she says.
Margot stills. I feel it more than I see it. Julie leans back slightly in her chair. “I wondered if that was what this was about when you called asking about the old photographs,” she says quietly.
I frown at her. “I don’t remember him,” I say. “Not anything from that young really. It’s scattered. I remember pieces. Rooms. People. But not him.”
Julies studies me for a long moment, something sad and thoughtful in her expression. “Well,” she says softly. “There’s a reason for that.”
Margot and I both look at her. Julie folds her hands on the table, like she’s finally opening a box she’s kept shut for years.
“You were very little,” She says to me. “But there were a few incidents. One where you got hurt. Badly. You had a traumatic brain injury.”
The words hit like a dropped plate.
Margot looks at me sharply. “What happened?” she says.
I stare at Julie when she doesn't answer right away. “I knew I had an accident,” I say slowly. “But no one ever told me details.”
Julie sighs softly. “Something happened, they wouldn’t give me anymore other than you got hurt.
Charles and Benjamin forced Vivian to get Sebastian help,” she says.
“Everything changed after that. He was sent away and then… Vivian… she erased him. From the house, from photographs, from conversation. From everything. ”
Margot’s eyes widen. “You never told us any of that.”
Julie gives a small, humorless smile. “I wasn’t allowed to talk about it,” she says. “Vivian made that very clear. She paid me well, paid for Margot’s schooling, made sure we were taken care of. But the condition was silence. Sebastian was not to be mentioned. Ever. To anyone.”
Margot and I just stare at her. I knew my mother wielded power and control over people, but not this. Not even a hint.
“I remember a boy being around,” Margot says slowly. “Just pieces. But you were always really protective when he was there,” She looks at her mother. “You didn’t like him.”
Julie’s expression tightens. “I knew something was wrong with that boy even before Wrenley was born,” she says quietly. “He watched people too closely. Didn’t play like other kids. Didn’t laugh. He just… watched. When he looked at you girls, I never liked the way it felt.”
A cold feeling settles low in my stomach.
Margot squeezes her mother’s hand. “He’s made some implied threats,” she says. “Nothing direct, but enough that we’re not comfortable leaving you alone right now.”
“Is he dangerous?” she asks quietly.
I answer before Margot can. “Yes.” I don’t sugar coat my words. Even if Margot is trying to protect her. Julie needs to understand that this isn’t about old photographs or childhood memories.
Julie nods slowly, like she expected that answer. “And you want me to leave town?” She asks.
“Just for a little while,” Margot says softly. “Go stay with Uncle Dan. Think of it like a vacation. We just want to make sure this doesn’t turn into anything.”
Julie looks at her daughter, then at me.
“The Black Serpents will handle it.” She says. It’s not a question. It’s never been a secret to her who Margot and I have tied our lives to.
I hold her gaze and nod. “Yes. We will.”
She exhales slowly, then gives a small nod. “Alright,” she says. “I’ll go stay with my brother for a while. I’ll leave this afternoon.”
Margot’s shoulders drop slightly, the tension leaving her like she’s been holding that breath since last night.
After we said goodbye to Margot’s mother. Margot said retail therapy would make everything seem normal. Of course she wanted to shop when she woke me up this morning. We’ve been shopping all afternoon, and it’s near late evening when we make our last stop.
Margot holds up something sheer and scandalous, raising a brow. “This or the red lace?”
I smirk, tugging a hanger free, leather, black, strappy. Wearable sin. “This.”
Margot snorts. “Leather, huh?’
I shrug, unapologetic. “It was requested.”
Her eyes gleam as she plucks something from the wall behind her and tosses it at me. A leather riding crop lands in my hands. “This is fun too.”
I turn it in my fingers, grin sharpening. “I bet.”