Chapter 25 Selene
SELENE
Monique slaps my ass on her way to the kitchen. “Up and at ‘em, Gone Girl, time for our walk.”
She’s been calling me by that since we watched the playback of the press conference where Jordan fell apart, taking pleasure in how much I hate it.
I glare at her from my very cozy spot on the couch and let out a groan because of the stupid nickname but also because moving feels like something of an impossibility for me at the moment.
I’m nestled between the two men who took turns folding me like a pretzel last night.
My head is resting on Cal’s thigh and my hands are tucked under my chin.
He’s running his fingers through my hair while he reads the paper with a pair of black framed glasses resting on his nose.
Beck has my feet in his lap, gentle callused hands rubbing small circles into my soles while he watches the Hallmark movie playing on the screen because we’re all tired of the news.
It’s a perfectly lazy afternoon, and I’m more content than I should be, laying here with a full heart and the sunlight streaming in from the windows kissing my skin, learning things about the men I love that I would have known before if we’d ever had the kind of time we have now.
This is the most we’ve been around each other since we met, and now I have another name to add to the list of monsters I have to thank for this bittersweet gift.
Phineas Gambit.
Beck and Cal identified him four days ago, and since then we’ve learned everything there is to know about him online, including the fact that he’s had Mason Woodard and Patrick Garrison on his payroll for over a decade.
We did a deep dive on his limited social media and found them lurking in the background of a lot of photos, guns on their hips, comms in their ears, determined expressions on both of their faces as they scanned the crowds on red carpets and inside galas for any threat to their employer.
Tying Gambit to Garrison and Woodard was a definite win, proving our theory that their addition to Aubrey’s detail was a way for the person who owns him to keep an eye on him while remaining in the shadows.
What’s been harder to do, is tie the corrupt billionaire to Officer Travis Langham.
Obviously, we know they’re both involved in this web of deception, but it’s unclear when Langham was brought into all of this and if he was recruited by Gambit personally or contracted by someone on his payroll.
The timing of it all matters most to me because if Langham was in bed with Gambit on the day that we met…
A shiver runs through me, and I push the thought away, refusing to go there.
“You know she’s coming back for you,” Cal murmurs, the strokes of his fingers growing even more intoxicating.
“I know. I know. I’m going.”
But my eyes are falling shut, and there are these lovely little ripples of warmth and pleasure radiating from the places they’re touching me.
“You didn’t move a muscle, gorgeous.”
“Shhhh.”
I don’t have to be looking at him to know when his demeanor goes from relaxed and teasing to mischievous. I feel it. In the span of a heartbeat, he shifts gears, fingers turning torturous as he begins to tickle my feet.
“Did you just shush me?”
“Beck!” I squeal, thrashing against the cushions to try to get away from him.
It’s no use. He’s got a death grip on my ankle, so I try to kick away with the other foot, squirming and pleading even as hysterical laughter pours from me.
“Seriously, Beck!” Giggle, gasp. “Stop!” More giggles and a jerk that results in my head slapping against Cal’s thigh.
I look to him for help, but he’s useless, watching the whole thing with an amused glimmer in his eye.
“Apologize,” Beck orders, using his hold on me to pull me down the couch toward him. At first I don’t know what his goal is, but then, quick as a flash, he’s on top of me, fingers digging into my ribs while I scream bloody murder.
“MONIQUE!!!”
“SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN YOUR ASS UP WHEN I TOLD YOU TO,” she shouts from the kitchen, the sounds of ice dropping into a glass accompanying her pettiness.
Beck is hovering over me. His chest against my chest. His nose against my nose. His body a solid wall of muscle that doesn’t so much as budge when I try to buck him off.
“You know how to end this, Selene,” he whispers, lips curved in an annoyingly adorable smile. It’s so good to see him like this even if it’s while he’s attempting to murder me.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp, beating at his back and sides. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorryyyyy.”
He drops a kiss on my lips, fingers going still as the show of affection tries to turn into something more. Monique clears her throat, and he pulls away. “You’re forgiven.”
I scramble off the couch, narrowing my eyes at Cal, who just blows me a kiss, and then Monique who taps her foot and says, “We’re late.”
There’s not really a way to be late for a walk that consists of laps around the large backyard while Cal and/or Beck sit on the patio and keep watch, but I don’t argue with her because I know she needs the open air.
We’re all going a little stir crazy now.
Marsh is still on the run and everything has been quiet.
Too quiet. Normally, I’d say quiet is good, that it’s safe, but this is different.
It’s the kind of silence that makes you question yourself, that has you relaxing back into your bed, telling yourself that you’re in the house alone even though you definitely heard the steps creak under the weight of a full-grown person.
“How are you doing?”
I pose the question when we’re halfway through our second lap, taking a sip of water from the bottle Monique was gracious enough to fix for me while Beck was killing me on the couch.
She shrugs. “Ready to go home.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Selene, please stop apologizing to me for things that are out of your control. We’re here because of Aubrey and all his nonsense. The only thing you did wrong was trust a white man.”
Her steps falter when I bump her with my shoulder. “I hate you.”
She recovers with ease, elongating her stride to catch up with me. “You do not.”
“I don’t,” I admit, looping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into me because I know she likes when I’m all touchy feely. “I love you so much, and I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for coming on the run with me.”
“I love you too, and there’s nowhere else I’d be than by your side. Besides, it’s not like I had much of a choice,” she gripes, leaning into me. “Cal said I was going to end up being waterboarded for your location if I didn’t.”
“You’re exaggerating, as usual.”
“That might have been what he said verbatim,” she says, shoving me away. “But that was definitely what he wanted me to take from the conversation.”
I don’t bother dignifying her ridiculousness with a response, opting to guide us back to the original topic of conversation.
“Seriously, though, how are you? I know it can’t be easy putting your whole life on hold to hide out here with us.
You’ve been cracking a lot of jokes and contributing so much to the investigation, so please don’t think I don’t appreciate you.
I just need to know what’s happening underneath all of that, so I can try to take care of you how you’ve been taking care of me. ”
She stops walking, grabbing hold of my arm to force me to pause too.
Then she takes both of my hands in hers and squeezes hard.
“Sel, the only thing you can do for me is what. you have been doing. Keep living, keep loving those gorgeous men of yours and keep letting them love you. Keep looking forward to the future you’re going to have after you get the proof you need to take Aubrey down once and for all. ”
My heart clenches at the mention of the future. An empty ache building inside of me, inspiring the urge to grab hold of something that is so far out of reach. “What if I can’t do it? What if I never find the proof? What if we’re just here, hiding forever?”
Her head jerks back as if she’s been hit. “Girl, that’s not even an option. I mean my pussy is good, but it’s not good enough to get a man I haven’t fucked in years to give me this big ass house for forever.”
The words combined with the sheer seriousness of her expression surprises a laugh out of me. “Oh, my God. I really need you to stop talking,” I wheeze, holding my sides.
“You’re laughing, but I’m so for real right now.
We can’t stay here forever, Selene, and we won’t need to.
Marsh is going back to prison. Aubrey is going to end up in a cell right next to him.
Cordelia and Gambit and whoever the hell else is in on this little conspiracy theory, is going to get what’s coming to them, and then you’re going to live happily ever after with Cal and Beck.
There is no other acceptable outcome, do you hear me? ”
“Well there is one other outcome I’d accept,” I say tentatively.
“And what exactly would that look like?”
“Adopting Isis and Imani?”
My eyes run in frenzied lines over her face, trying to gauge her thoughts before she can fully process what I’ve said. There’s shock, and the small flickers of cautious excitement pulling at the corners of her lips.
“I didn’t realize you wanted more kids.”
“I didn’t, and I don’t want just any kid.
I want the chance to raise them, to show them what it feels like to grow up with people in your corner who’ll always have your back and stand at your side.
They deserve to know the love and safety of a home again, and I think that when all of this is said and done, I can give them that. ”
I bite my lower lip as hope swells in my chest. It’s accompanied by sharp pangs of guilt that come from having to leave the girls without saying a word.
They know what it’s like to be left behind, and I know that kind of pain has left them with scars, I just hate that I might be the person reopening those wounds for them now.
“Do you think they’ll want me?”