35. Rowan
ROWAN
We ride alone to the Buckingham mansion. Which is a good thing considering Samson and I can’t keep our hands off each other.
“Are you sure the driver can’t hear us?” I ask even as I throw a leg over Samson’s lap.
“No, we’re fine. Privacy screen is up and everything.”
I kiss him again, luxuriating in the sensation. There’s no need to rush. We have all the time in the world.
When I pull back, I don’t go far, just rest my forehead against his. “You were beautiful on stage tonight.”
He smirks. “You don’t need to flatter me. I’m a sure deal.”
I nip at the end of his nose, grinning when he hisses.
“Stop that. I mean it. The most beautiful of dancers do it for the love of it. That’s what everyone saw tonight.
You dance because you love it, and that makes it beautiful.
Not timing, talent, or choreography. Love.
Joy. You were so brave to share that with everyone. I’m so proud of you.”
His eyes turn a little misty. “I did it for you. You told us in class that dancing on stage is about love. That’s what that was—my love letter to you.”
“It was perfect,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I was so stubborn. I was just…scared. So fucking scared.”
“Of what?”
“Losing you. Everything that makes me happy gets taken away from me eventually. I didn’t want to let you in again and get hurt. Not after the pain of the first time.”
He winces. “I’m sorry about that. About everything.”
“I know,” I breathe, leaning into him, letting him ground me. “I’m sorry too.”
“How about we both stop apologizing and move forward instead?”
My lips bloom into the most real smile I’ve had in weeks. “That sounds wonderful.”
“I’m going to show you that it’s safe to be happy,” Samson vows. “I’m not going anywhere. Even if you end things again, I’ll just keep showing up until you give me another chance.”
I giggle. “Oh, I’m well aware of that. But don’t worry, that won’t be happening again. I’m never, ever letting you go.”
“You won’t lose the dance studio either. I told a little white lie tonight—the Buckinghams might’ve purchased the studio, but it’s in your name.”
I jolt, my eyes wide. “What? Why? Why would you do that?”
He shrugs, self-conscious. “Didn’t want you thinking you had to stay with me because you’d risk the studio otherwise. Besides, it’s yours. It should’ve been yours for a long time. All we’ve done is right a few wrongs.”
I blink away more tears. I must be dehydrated given how much I’ve cried tonight. “I can’t believe you did that for me. How can I ever thank you?”
“By letting me love you,” Samson says. “That’s all I ask.”
“Done. Easiest deal I’ve ever made in my life.”
He kisses me again until I’m breathless. I’m tempted to test just how soundproof the car is, but another question occurs to me. “What happened to the developers who’d already bought it?”
Samson smirks. “No one says no to the Buckinghams. You better get used to it.”
“What, because I won’t be able to say no either?”
“No, because you’re one of us now.”
I suck in a breath. “What are you saying?”
He chuckles. “I’m not proposing or anything. Not yet, anyway. But you are a Buckingham now. You’re one of us. Part of the family.”
God, it’s everything I ever wanted. Someone who loves me. My studio. A family.
I hedge slightly over my next question. “What about The Firm?”
“You don’t have to be part of that,” Samson assures me.
“Of all the partners, only Neo is directly involved, and that’s more because Wylder needs organizing than anything else.
Wyatt and Ansel sit in on meetings because they like to know what’s going on and put their foot down if they’re worried about their partners, but you don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. ”
I bite my lip as I consider it. How quickly things could’ve gone wrong if anyone other than Samson had been chosen to fulfill Adi’s request. “I think…I think I want to sit in too. I know Wylder said you’ve got new safeguards in place, but I’d like a say. If that’s okay?”
He kisses my temple. “More than okay. I was hoping that’s what you’d say. We actually have a situation right now that we need your opinion on.”
“Really? What?”
Samson holds me tighter, like he’s afraid what he’s about to say might shatter me. “We have Scott Johnson in our basement.”
Goose bumps rise on my arm, and my heart stutters to a stop. “Adam’s murderer?”
“Yes.” Samson doesn’t look away from me as he calmly continues. “We have assembled all the proof that it was him. We haven’t touched him.”
“You mean he’s alive?”
Samson nods. “You were right. Some decisions aren’t ours to make. What happens to Scott should be yours.”
I’m shaking but okay. I’ll be okay so long as Samson keeps holding me. “What if I can’t make a decision?”
“Then we’ll continue holding him until you do,” Samson says. “He’s too much of a danger to society to let him walk free, but we were all in agreement that nothing should happen to him until you were told we had him.”
I swallow down bile. “What if I don’t ever want to make a decision? What if I want someone else to do that?”
“I can do it for you,” Samson says quietly. “I was raised differently. We all were. We don’t look at human life the same way as most people. Maybe that’s wrong, but it’s all we’ve ever known.”
I think about it for a second—how I ran to Adam’s apartment in bare feet as soon as I got the news. The way the EMTs and police tried to hold me back.
But they couldn’t stop me from seeing the stretcher.
The bag on top of it. Zipped up. Hiding Adam from me.
“I want to speak to him,” I blurt out. “And I want to see all the evidence. But…can you take out any crime-scene photos of Adam? I don’t… I can’t see those.”
“Already done,” he says. “I told you I’ll protect you always, and that includes shit like this—the kind of stuff you don’t need to see. Even if you decide to take on a more active role in The Firm, I’ll never let you be exposed to anything that might hurt you. You got that?”
Emotion thickens my voice. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“You love me,” he says. “You told me it’s okay to be exactly who I am. That’s enough.”
Our car is the last to arrive. When we step inside the foyer, everyone is there except Matthias. Even Jules and Jackson are waiting to greet us with tentative smiles.
“Hi,” I say sheepishly. For someone who loves the spotlight, I’m struggling being under the intense focus of these men.
And Dotty, who’s spying from the stairs.
She probably thinks she’s being subtle, but the potted plant she’s chosen to hide behind isn’t really covering her.
“Thank you for tonight. The studio. For everything. I’m sorry it took me so long to get my head around everything. ”
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” Neo lifts his chin stubbornly. “Isn’t that right, everyone?”
A round of affirmative sounds comes from the room. One is more tinny than the rest. That’s when I spot the laptop propped up on a side table, Matthias’s solemn face staring out of the screen.
Wylder follows my gaze. “We’re all here because we’re family. You don’t need our surname to be one of us. We choose who we love. Who we include. And, as of today, you’re one of us. Officially.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Jules pale. His hands are shaking too. He quickly puts them behind his back like he’s hoping no one notices. But I do.
And from the crease in Harley’s brow, he has as well.
I don’t have time to ask Jules if he’s okay. Wylder claps his hands and directs us over to the conference room. When I glance back, Jules is gone.
I make a mental note to track him down later. Clearly, he’s going through something. Maybe a friendly ear might help. If he doesn’t still hate me for flirting with Harley. Which, again, was absolutely not what happened.
The man himself falls into step beside me. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I say quietly.
“We definitely good?” His eyes, so like Samson’s, bore a hole into the side of my face. “Because I can totally grovel more. Throw some more shapes. Whatever’s needed.”
I laugh, patting his arm. “We’re good. I promise. Just so long as you never threaten to shoot me again.”
“Obviously.” He considers what I said before frowning. “Can I still threaten Samson? Because if I can’t, that’s going to be a problem.”
I know. I remember game night all too well. “You can threaten him, but you can’t ever follow through.”
“Of course,” he snorts. “I’m unhinged, but not that much.”
“Says you,” Samson mutters, throwing an arm over my shoulders and tucking me against him. “I’ve seen your unhinged side. Doesn’t come out often, but when it does…”
“Speaking of.” I drop my voice low so only Harley can hear. Well, and Samson, but I’m trusting him to know this isn’t a question for him. “Is everything okay with Jules? He looked…freaked out earlier.”
Harley’s face shifts instantly. All his softness disappears, replaced by hard lines and grooves. “I don’t know. He won’t tell me.”
Sympathy twists my gut. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I think he cares about you.”
He gives me a thin smile. “I used to think that too.”
He strides away before I say anything else.
“Don’t take it personally.” Samson squeezes me tighter. “No one’s going to be able to sort their shit out other than them.”
I grumble, knowing he’s right but still wishing I could help. I make a note to get together with Ansel and Neo. Surely, between the three of us, we can come up with a plan to get their heads out of the sand.
When we take our seats around the conference table, I’m sandwiched between Samson and Harley. Matthias’s face is now staring grimly out of the big screen on the wall.
“I’m going to go through the evidence we’ve amassed against Scott Johnson,” Matthias starts without preamble. His tone is flat, like he’s completely removed from what he’s discussing. Is that how he protects himself from the darker tasks The Firm asks of them all?
“As requested by Samson, I’ve removed all the evidence pertaining to Adam,” he continues.
“All that’s included are the phone records showing that it was indeed Johnson who was sending the threatening messages, plus the CCTV footage proving that he was in the immediate area at the time of Adam’s death. ”
Matthias clears his throat, eyeing me, Ansel, and Neo in turn.
Jackson, I note, hasn’t accompanied us in here.
Wyatt remains, eyes fixed on his husband as a muscle jumps in his jaw.
“Even with what I’ve excluded, there’s a lot of distressing material included here. Speak now if you don’t want to see it.”
“Wait, I’m confused.” I sit forward with a frown. “If you’ve removed the distressing information about Adam, what more is there?”
Samson reaches under the table to squeeze my knee.
On my other side, Harley shuffles closer, like he too is lending me his support.
“Row, Adam wasn’t the only one Scott murdered.
We’ve uncovered seven other homicides so far that we can link to him, and four more that we’re fairly sure were his work, but we can’t prove it definitively. ”
Eleven.
Eleven people.
Dead because of him.
“Show me what you can.” My voice sounds distant, like I’m hearing it from far away. “I want to see.”
Matthias does.
I make it through the first case.
Then the second.
The third has Samson shoving a trash bin into my hands. I empty the contents of my stomach into it while sobbing. I’m not the only one, either. Ansel dipped out after the first case, with Neo leaving during the second.
Only the Buckinghams, Wyatt, and I remain.
“That’s enough,” Samson tells Matthias quietly. “He’s seen enough.”
“No,” I protest, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I need to see them.”
He sweeps my hair off my sticky forehead. “Why?”
“Because I should’ve stopped him.” My lip quivers. “I should’ve pushed the police to keep investigating Adam’s killer. I shouldn’t have ignored it all these months. At least two of those men died after Adam. I could’ve saved them. They’re dead because of me.”
“No,” Samson says firmly, grabbing my hair and tugging lightly. The pain helps, stops me from spiraling further. “You’re not to blame. Not for any of these men’s deaths. Or Adam’s. There’s only one person to blame, and he’s tied up in our basement.”
“I need to see him.”
Samson falters. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please,” I whisper. “I want to look him in the eye and ask him why.”
“Fine.” He releases my hair and strokes my face. “But don’t expect to get the answers you want. There are different types of evil in this world. We see it all too often. And Adam’s killer? He’s the worst kind of all. He’s not remorseful. He’s…smug.”
I recoil internally. “I don’t care. I need to do this.”
“Okay.” Samson blows out a breath before nodding at his brothers. “You heard him. Who’s coming down with us?”