Chapter 15 #3
I think about all the years I've known Callum. All the friendships I watched him burn through. Guys who started out as his buddies and ended up avoiding his calls. A trail of broken connections stretching back to middle school.
Jessica isn't the first person to run from him.
She's just the one who matters most.
"So what's the plan?" Pedro asks.
Sergio takes a deep breath. "We handle this smart. Carefully." He straightens. "First, we tell Jessica about the texts. About Friday. She deserves to know what's coming."
"And then?"
"Then we ask her what she wants." His eyes are fierce now. “Whatever answer she gives us, we support her completely."
"Even if she doesn't want us?" The question scrapes out of me, raw and vulnerable. I start fidgeting with my coffee mug, turning it in circles on the counter. "Even if she says thanks but no thanks, you're all very nice but I need to handle this alone?"
"Even then." Sergio nods. "But I don't think that's what she's going to say."
I stop fidgeting and look up. "What makes you so sure?"
"Because I saw her face last night. When I told her we weren't going anywhere." The ghost of a smile touches his mouth. "She looked like someone who'd been treading water in the middle of the ocean and finally spotted land."
I think about the kiss in her flooded bedroom. The way she grabbed my shirt with both hands. I set down the coffee mug and lean against the counter.
"We're really doing this," Pedro says, and he sounds almost awed. "Choosing her. Over years of friendship with Callum."
"The friendship ended the moment he started treating her like property," Nacho says, his voice hard. "We just didn't want to admit it."
"I saw it." The admission costs me something. I push off the counter and start pacing again, slower this time. "Every red flag. I saw all of it, and I did nothing because he was my friend and she was his girlfriend."
I stop and face my brothers.
"That ends now. Whatever happens with Callum, whatever Jessica decides, I'm not standing on the sidelines anymore."
"Agreed." Sergio moves toward the kitchen door, then stops. "We're done being passive. If Callum wants a fight, he's going to get one."
"And if he backs down?" Pedro asks, moving to rinse his coffee mug in the sink.
"He won't." Nacho's certainty is absolute. "Men like Callum don't back down. They escalate."
"Then we make sure he loses," I say, cracking my knuckles. It's a nervous habit. Pedro hates it. "Decisively. Publicly."
"Carefully," Sergio corrects, holding up a hand. "We do this carefully. By the book. When Callum goes down, it's going to be because of his own actions, not ours."
"Friday." Nacho checks his watch. "That gives us three days to prepare."
"And Jessica?" I ask, abandoning my pacing to face them all. "Does she get a vote in any of this? Or are we just deciding things for her the same way Callum always did?"
The words land hard. I see Sergio flinch. See Nacho's jaw tighten.
"She gets the final say," Sergio says firmly. "On everything. We tell her what's coming, we offer our support, and then we ask what she wants. Whatever she says goes."
"Even if it's not what we want to hear."
"Especially then."
He starts walking toward the kitchen door, and we all fall into step behind him. I'm still fidgeting, cracking my knuckles again as we move through the house.
"One more thing," Sergio says, stopping in the hallway.
"Whatever happens with Callum, whatever Jessica decides about us, we don't lie to her.
About anything. Not our feelings. Not our intentions.
Not the fact that every single one of us would burn the world down to keep her safe if she asked us to. "
"She didn't ask," Pedro points out.
"She might," I say, following behind them. "And when she does, I want to be ready."
Nacho's the last to move, straightening his uniform one final time. "What exactly do we do when he arrives? When Callum shows up Friday?"
I answer first, the words coming easy. "I stand at that front door and I don't move. He doesn't get past me. Doesn't get near her."
Nacho nods. "I document everything. Every word. Every threat. Building a case."
Pedro straightens his shoulders. "I monitor her health. Make sure she's eating, sleeping, taking care of herself."
We all look at Sergio.
He's standing in the kitchen doorway, backlit by the hallway light.
"I lead," he says simply. "I speak for the pack. I stand between her and Callum when she needs a shield. And I make it crystal clear that this isn't a negotiation." He pauses. "It's a goodbye. The only one he's going to get."
I feel something settle in my chest. The anxiety that's been churning since she walked through our door finally going quiet.
"Anyone else hungry?" I announce. "Because I've been stressed for like three hours, and stress makes me hungry, and I know for a fact there's leftover lasagna in the fridge that Jessica made yesterday."
Pedro's head snaps up. "She made lasagna?"
"With extra cheese. And garlic bread." I'm already heading toward the kitchen.
"I watched her make it. She hummed while she cooked. It was adorable and also made me realize I haven't had a home-cooked meal in actual years because all I eat is takeout and protein bars."
"You own a kitchen," Nacho points out. "I own a room with appliances in it. That's different from a kitchen."
My voice echoes from down the hall.
"A kitchen is where magic happens. Where omegas make lasagna and hum and accidentally make four alphas fall even harder in love."
"We're already in love," Sergio calls back.
"Then we're falling into deeper love. Is that a thing? It feels like a thing." I open the refrigerator.
"Oh my God, she labeled it. She labeled the lasagna with reheating instructions. Sergio, I'm going to cry into this pasta."
"Please don't," Sergio says. "Your tears will make it soggy."
In three days, we're going to show Callum exactly what happens when he comes for someone we love.
"Let's go tell her," Sergio says, turning toward the hallway.
I follow, my brothers falling in step beside me. My boots are still tracking mud. My flannel's still covered in sawdust. I probably look like I've been up all night, because I have.
The house is quiet around us. Jessica's scent gets stronger as we approach the guest room. Her sweet omega scent is warm and inviting, mixing with my sandalwood and sawdust from the henley she's wearing.
She's awake. I can tell by the subtle shift in her scent.
She probably heard us talking. Probably caught bits and pieces through the walls.
That's okay.
We'll explain everything.
Sergio knocks on the guest room door.
I stand behind him, flanked by my brothers, and wait.
Friday is coming.
And when it does, we're going to be ready.