Landon
NATE STANDS AT MY side, completely rigid as he takes in my parents’ house. It is a sight to see, with all the windows perfectly cleaned and the bushes out front blooming with colorful flowers.
The inside is even more impressive, but I don’t mention this. He looks nervous enough.
“And they don’t know about the warehouse?” he asks, and it’s the hundredth question I’ve received since I picked him up from the airport an hour ago.
“Um, what do you mean?” I shoot back, choosing to stare at the house instead of him. His nerves are making me nervous.
“Please don’t tell me they know I was involved,” he deadpans. “You wouldn’t bring me into a house full of people who want me dead, right?”
I smile, even though I’m still staring straight ahead and not acknowledging the glare he’s now sending my way. “Come on! They’re waiting.”
“Landon, I swear to god. I will slap that ass raw if they—”
The door opens just as I’m dragging Nate up the front steps, and there stands Scarlet. He shuts up quickly, his threat falling off fast as she looks him up and down.
“You’re the psychopath who got my brother kidnapped?” she asks.
So much for pleasant introductions.
Nate squeezes my hand harder, squaring his shoulders as he sends my sister an unimpressed look. “If you’re meaning to ask if I’m Nate, the guy who saved him in the end, then yes.”
I think that, technically, Calum was the one to save us in the end. Not that that is worth mentioning.
Scarlet’s glare turns into something pleased, but just barely. As if she appreciates his cockiness and how he’s unwilling to back down or take shit.
“Very well,” she says blandly. “Come in.”
Nate shoots me a scathing look before he trails after her, anxiously fixing the cuffs of his black button-up. I would care more about his anxiety if I weren’t so distracted by his ass in those slacks.
Damn. Nate looks good.
Scarlet takes us to the dining room, and I immediately spot Dad at the head of the table, with Mom to his right.
I watch as Scarlet takes her seat on his left, and Nate appears to find her the safest company because he sticks to her side of the table, extending a hand to my father over the neatly arranged plates.
“Mr. Presley, it’s nice to meet you.”
Dad stares at his outstretched hand, his eyes narrowed. “Can’t say I feel the same.”
Dad does not shake his hand.
Nate takes a deep, steadying breath and sits next to Scarlet as I take up the place next to my mother so that I can keep my eyes on him as often as possible.
“Mrs. Presley,” Nate greets, nodding his head in her direction.
“Nathaniel,” she says gently, nodding back.
“It’s just Nate, Mom,” I correct.
I think Nate has some kind of aversion to his full name, but I can’t be sure. I don’t really want to ask.
“Oh, Nate, then,” she agrees.
“Jesus,” Dad breathes out, throwing his unused napkin onto his empty plate. “We’re really doing this? Are we going to pretend this bastard didn’t almost get my only son killed? That his gift wasn’t ripped away from him because—”
“Mr. Presley,” Nate interrupts, and I consider the likelihood that he and Dad might have a how-much-dominance-can-I-force-into-my-voice competition. “I understand that you’re upset. But I can assure you that I did everything I could to keep him safe.”
“Was that before or after you turned him in to that pathetic excuse of a company?” Dad snaps.
Nate sends me a look, one that says he can see where I get my attitude from. Then he turns his attention back to my father and replies, “After.”
Scarlet bursts out laughing, pressing her napkin to her lips as if that will stifle it. To be fair, I’m also grinning.
“Don’t sass me, boy,” Dad demands.
“I’m not a boy, Mr. Presley. I’m thirty-four.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” my father nearly shrieks.
Alright. I may have told my family that Nate had just turned thirty… I thought it might lessen the blow.
“Honey,” Mom coos, grabbing his hand over the table. “It’s alright. He makes Landon happy; isn’t that all that matters?”
“Uh, no,” he replies smoothly. “I’m pretty sure what matters most is that he stays alive.”
“And he will,” Nate insists. “I killed three people to keep him alive.”
The entire room goes dead silent.
“Um, Nate? I may have excluded mentioning that when I got home.” My tone is calm, but internally, I’m trying to choose between laughing again and grabbing his hand to run.
How will my family react now that they know that Nate was the one to kill the council?
“I thought you said a man came in with a gun and killed the council,” Dad says, staring at me with a blank expression.
“Yeah, he did. He shot the head of the council. Um, Nate killed the other three when they tried to get information about Uncle Benji.”
Slowly, my father turns his attention back to Nate. And of course, Nate stares right back. This dinner is starting to feel like a dick-measuring contest.
“Felicita!” Dad suddenly shouts, and in runs our nanny, turned housemaid once we were old enough.
“Yes, sir?”
“Call Benji. Tell him to come here.”
“Your uncle lives in California?” Nate asks, his head whipping in my direction out of pure shock.
I shrug. “He’s good at hiding, not hidden in Antarctica.”
“We need to have a family discussion,” Dad mumbles, and I can’t really blame him.
I just brought home the guy who betrayed me, who is not only a murderer but also over a decade older than me. If I were a dad, I’d be losing my shit.
Just like he did when I called and told them I’d be bringing Nate home, as my boyfriend.
We sit in silence for all of twenty long-ass minutes, until finally the food is served and Uncle Benji comes stuttering in.
He looks just like the rest of us with his brown hair and green eyes, but he’s a bit shorter than my dad or me. Definitely not lacking in muscle, though.
“Benji,” Dad greets, nodding once.
“Hey, family,” he replies casually. With wide strides, he reaches the chair next to me, ruffling my hair before he plops down.
“Hey, Uncle Benji,” I say, giving him a smile.
“Sup, kiddo. How are you holding up without coercion?”
Oof. Sensitive subject, Benji. I shrug, pushing around my broccoli with my fork in lieu of answering. I’m not really interested in getting into the emotional devastation of losing a part of myself.
“Yeah, I get it,” he adds, resting his hand on the back of my neck. “Those bastards are relentless. It means a lot to me that you endured all that suffering just to keep me safe.”
“It was nothing,” I mumble, feeling my cheeks get hot. It sounds almost as if my uncle is proud of me.
“And who is this?” he asks, smiling brightly at Nate as he sits back in his chair.
“Nate Barfred,” Nate offers, standing to extend his hand to my uncle.
Uncle Benji takes it without hesitation, shaking his hand like they’re old pals. “It’s nice to meet you, Nate.”
“Alright,” Dad interjects. “Nate, tell us what happened.”
“Huh?” Uncle Benji questions.
“When I came in, Lan was tied to a chair. They had beaten him quite a bit, so I woke him up and made him use coercion so I could confirm they hadn’t…” He trails off, eyeing me out of the corner of his eye.
“Taken it from me,” I finish for him.
“Wait, you were there?” Uncle Benji interrupts, his brows raised in obvious curiosity.
“He was,” Dad confirms.
“Anyway, he still had coercion, so I tried to get him out,” Nate continues.
“But Joseph, the head of the council, came in with his sidekick holding a gun. They tried to get me to get Benji’s location from Landon, so I took the gun, used my own gift to blind them, and shot Boston, Cecilia, and Ryan. ”
“The other council members,” I clarify.
“Damn,” Scarlet exclaims. “That’s gnarly, Nate.”
He shrugs, staring my dad straight in the eyes as if to say Is that enough proof for you?
“So you have your own gift,” Uncle Benji comments. “What is it?”
“Illusion.”
“How does that work?”
Nate’s eyes find mine, and I give him a small nod. Moments later, the room around us shifts into a beautiful beach similar to the one he showed me so long ago. The legs of the table dig into the white sand, and a seagull flies overhead.
Mom gasps, dropping her fork onto the table.
“Holy shit,” Uncle Benji breathes out. “This is incredible!”
“Oh my god!” Scarlet screeches. “Take us to Paris!”
Great. And now we’re eating steak in front of the Eiffel Tower.
“Incredible,” she murmurs.
“Enough,” Dad snaps, and Nate obeys him for the first time and returns us to our house.
“So you were being hunted too, then?” Uncle Benji asks, taking a sip from his glass of water.
“He worked for them,” Dad interjects.
“Did you now?” My uncle raises his brows once more.
“Not anymore,” Nate supplies.
“The point is, this man killed three people when they pushed Landon for information about you,” Dad says.
Uncle Benji grins, shooting me a pleased expression before he dips his head in Nate’s direction. “Why, thank you, Nate.”
“It was more to save Landon, but you’re welcome.”
Dad rolls his eyes.
“What I’m gathering from this is that Nate wants to protect our boy so badly he’d commit a crime,” Mom says. Her eyes are wet, but I can’t tell if it’s for the people who have died or how grateful she is that I didn’t.
As I peer around the table, a sense of completeness fills me. My whole family, more interactive than they ever have been, and Nate. All together.
“How do we know he’ll continue to protect him and not try to fuck over our family?” Dad challenges, but I can sense the anger leaving him.
“I could ask him,” Uncle Benji offers.
And we all know what that means. Nate stiffens in his chair, sending my uncle a weary glare.
“I don’t think that’s—”
“It’s fine,” Nate interrupts, cutting me off mid-sentence.
Uncle Benji clears his throat, sitting up with a grin. “Alright. Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Answer me honestly: do you intend to hurt this family now or anytime in the future?” That simmer that leaks from coercion fills the air around us, and it almost makes me want to cry. To feel it now, knowing I won’t ever feel it in my chest again.
Nate flinches at the simmer, but answers without hesitation. “No.”