Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Mikayla
This morning I was woken up to the house in utter chaos. There’s clanging and banging coming from the main floor, followed by a string of mumbled curses and sharp shrieks.
Hiding my dagger against my back, and still donning the oversized T-shirt I use as sleepwear—since my shorts have gone missing—I pad down the hall. Heading for the stairs to see what’s happening.
When I round the corner to the kitchen, the sight before me has an instant cackle bubbling up my throat. Within seconds, I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe and nearly collapse to the floor.
Standing in the middle of the kitchen, in only a pair of gym shorts, is Max covered head to toe in flour and what I can only assume is batter.
The stove is on, pans topping the burners, while fresh fruit lies haphazardly across cutting boards on the island behind him.
Mumbled “fucks” and “shits” flow from his lips like a river, as he attempts to clean himself up with a damp cloth.
I can no longer breathe as I curl into myself and bend against the floor. Laughter is bursting out of me like a fricken bomb has gone off, and my sharp inhales—only heard between the chortles—slice through the air.
“Ha, ha. So funny, Bear,” he condemns, throwing the towel at my shaking frame.
“You… you…” I try to get out, but my brain is having a hard time forming any kind of sentence. It takes another few minutes, but when I manage to curb the giddiness, and take in a decent breath, I continue my previous train of thought. “You have the same cooking skills as your Dad!”
Walking into the kitchen, I get the full look at just how much of a mess he made, and have to bite at the insides of my cheeks to stave off more laughter. Moving in closer, I tuck my blade into one of the lower shelves. Making sure my body is directly in front of it, hiding it from his view.
“Hey! I’ll have you know, I’m marginally better than him… for most things,” he states, conviction ringing through the air. I fight—and fail—to keep the smirk off my face and give him a nod.
“Mhmm… sure ya are,” I coo as I place a kiss on his cheek. “Now, before you burn your beautiful house down, go clean yourself up and let me help.”
He groans at me, his lips pressing together into a hard white line. “Fine! But only because I can feel the batter sliding down my shorts,” he says, turning and awkwardly heading towards his room. Legs bent, knees wide, he looks like he just got off of a horse. Or has taken up sumo-wrestling.
My head shakes wildly as a familiar heat rushes to my core.
The thought of batter dripping down Max’s abs, following the trail of his Adonis belt and slipping beneath the elastic of his shorts.
I clench my thighs tight, struggling to push the image out of my head before a pool of arousal collects on the floor beneath my feet.
Stupid pussy, betraying me this early in the morning. Have you no control?
Internally cursing myself for my lack of self-control, I grab the cloth Max had been working with and begin to clean up.
Jesus, it’s everywhere. As if someone forgot to put the lid on a blender and threw it on high.
There’s batter on the counter, the floor, even the top cabinets have splatter across them.
Just as I bend over to collect the discarded—and probably chipped—bowl off the floor, I hear the others make their way to the kitchen. Having more than likely been awoken from my obnoxious laughter.
“Morning, guess we’re having some form of pancakes today. If I can save them, because sadly Max tried to kill us all in our sleep,” I say as I straighten once again and turn around.
Three very red and flushed faces greet me.
As if our eye contact was a trigger, they share a look between them and shuffle behind the island.
Ryder, being on the far side, takes off heading towards the half bathroom around the corner.
His face sweating and his eyes pinching closed as he moves with lightning speed.
As much as they’re trying to hide it, whether out of courtesy or embarrassment, I definitely didn’t miss the three popped tents they were sporting.
I manage to stifle the giggle bubbling up from their antics, before shaking it off and urging them to help me clean and prep for breakfast. Fifteen-year-old me would have shrieked and ran from the room, embarrassed and confused by the feelings overwhelming her.
Thankfully, twenty-seven-year-old me is slightly more refined than that.
It is curious though that they would all have the same reaction.
Would Max have as well? I suppose I could chalk it up to it being early, and their minds aren’t as collected as they’d like them to be yet.
But a small part of me from all those years ago has gripped onto the thought that they liked what they saw, and ran away with it.
Staring at the two of them that stayed, their lips tense and ears bright red, I decide to alleviate the thick and rising tension within the room. Also known as me walking around in nothing but a shirt. Saving them from more uncomfortability, and allowing them to deal with their… uhh… situations.
“I think I’ll just go get dressed,” I mumble out around a giggle. Scurrying back to the room before they can make any comments.
After getting dressed in something less boner-inducing, I head back to the kitchen.
The mess has been cleaned up, Zane is in front of the stove finishing the pancakes, and Kade is setting the table.
Max has returned, freshly showered, his hair darkened by the water still lingering within it.
Sporting a knowing smile as Ryder forbids him from entering the kitchen for the rest of the day.
“But what if I—”
“No.” Ry cuts him off, finality echoing through his tone. “I want to live to see tomorrow, and as much as I care for you, you’re a walking hazard!”
“I was just trying to surprise Bear with breakfast!” Max contests, pouting slightly.
“Exactly why you should have just ordered in. Instead of trying to end her life with your attempt to cook,” Zane shoots out over the sizzling of bacon.
Watching them all from the corner of the room, throwing jabs around like confetti, and casually cooking an elaborate meal.
Moving in and around the furniture as well as each other like it’s become second nature.
It’s all so… domestic. Cooking, cleaning, eating together around the table, they’re things I was never sure I would see in my future.
The peacefulness that comes from having someone else you can lean on.
We eat more or less in silence—the awkward, annoying kind—as glances are thrown between each other and no one seems to want to meet my eyes. Well, this is just fun. As the meal comes to an end, Max—who had been consumed by eating and completely missed the awkwardness—finally breaks the tension.
“So, what do we want to do today?” he asks, clasping his hands over his stomach.
It’s not even the weekend so I’m surprised none of them have to work. I figured at least one of them would be taking off at some point. “Unless they all booked it off for you,” the little girl in me beams, still latching on to the hope our crush could ever go somewhere.
As I sit listening to them bicker if the mall or beach would be better, my phone dings with an incoming message.
Unknown
Cashing in. 1103 3rd Ave SW. Lvl 3. 14:00 hours
I let off a small sigh, making sure the guys can’t hear my frustration.
I always knew this day would arrive. In fact, I’ve been waiting on it, ready to be done with J and the debt he holds over me.
I just hoped it wouldn’t be right now. Another ding sounds off, signaling the incoming photo of my target.
Quickly, I peek through my lashes to make sure I’m still unnoticed, finding the four of them in the midst of their debate.
Oblivious to what’s happening over here.
The picture loads, showing me an older gentleman. Grey hair that he’s beginning to lose, and a pot belly larger than a pig's. This should be an easy job, little to no mess and a quick turnaround. Saving the photo to my phone, I shoot off a confirmation.
Me
Completion clears debt
With the address put into the GPS app, a thumbs up emoji as a reply, and the photo of my target tucked away, I delete the message thread from J. The location isn’t far from my old motel, which is perfect considering the fight still going on in front of me.
“Can I cast a vote?” I ask, grabbing everyone’s attention. No one says a thing, but they all stare at me with alert eyes, waiting for my next sentence. “I’d enjoy going to the beach. It can be just like the last time we were all together.”
Chewing at the inside of my cheek, I wait for them to respond. I’m hoping the thought of reliving some old memories will sway them enough to agree. Once we’re there, it should be easy enough to slip away, clear my debt, and make it back before they start to get suspicious.
A little over two hours later, the car is packed, the drinks chilled, and we’re on our way to an afternoon of sand and sun. And one measly murder. Zane is driving this time, heading for the spot designated for public use by the cafe. Yes, that very same one.
My thoughts wander as we drive. From memories to dreams of what my future on the run is going to look like.
Between the job I need to complete without my childhood friends finding out, and what I want to eat for dinner on my last night with them.
Subconsciously, my hand drifts, feeling the hard lines of my gun, and the cool metal of my dagger as they sit in their holsters around my thighs.
The need to make sure they are still secure, takes me back to the day I got them, as I adjust my dress to keep them hidden.
They are breaking me down. Piece by fucking piece. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to hold on. Hold on to my wits, hold on to my sanity.