Chapter 61
61
T he impatient blare of a car horn jolts me awake.
My first instinct is to scrabble and claw at my mouth in an effort to remove the gag, except it isn’t there. When I drag my fingers down to my neck to try and rid myself of the shock collar, I only encounter bare skin.
My surroundings become more and more vivid the more lucid I become.
Where are my men? Why am I alone?
And why the fuck am I back in my shitty apartment?
I don’t care that my legs feel unsteady. The sound of my shower running beckons me because I need to see their faces. I need to understand what happened.
The flopping sensation in my stomach has nothing to do with the gruesome sight of Andreas Noire lying on the floor bathed in a lake of blood, and everything to do with the fact I’m not in one of the beds I feel more at home in than I ever have here in this shoebox of an apartment.
Walking straight up to the shower curtain, I wrench it to one side, and a blood-curdling scream from the occupant pierces my sluggish brain .
Rita stares at me with eyes nearly falling out of her head, soap coating her skin.
“Umm… HI. What the fuck?” She yells at me and grabs a loofah to hold in front of herself as she crosses her legs and brings one arm to try and hide her tits.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I’m stuck, unable to move or rationalize what is happening. “You’re in Paris.” My mouth feels as though it’s been stuffed full of cotton balls.
“I was…” My best friend yanks the shower curtain across her like a hot pink toga. “Pass me a towel, and stop staring at me like one of those creepy Halloween twins.”
“Why are you in my shower?” I hand her the bath towel and rub one hand over my forehead. There’s a thumping ache settled right in behind my eyeballs. “And where are the others?”
“Look… Miss Fifty questions while my vag is hanging out ,” Rita steps out of the tiny tub and tightens the towel around her chest before dragging me in for a very confusing hug. “Christ, am I happy to see you awake and talking. You scared the shit outta me, bitch.”
“Where are the guys?” I mumble against her shoulder.
“Guys?” She pulls back and touches my cheek with the backs of her damp fingers. “Maybe whatever pain meds they gave you to knock you out after the accident have gone and scrambled your software, P. There’s been no one here but me since the hospital discharged you.”
My mouth opens and closes a couple of times.
“How's this for the scariest moment of my life? I get this call from my supervisor at the college, telling me you’ve been in a horrible accident, and that I’m cleared to take time off from the apprenticeship to rush to your bedside. Anyway, the next minute, I’m being flown back here by private jet. Private. Jet. ”
She emphasizes each word as if I’ve never heard of the concept.
“Look, it might not be much, but I know that somebody wanted me to be here when you woke up… but I don’t know what to tell you, other than the nurses from the private hospital fluttering around, there hasn’t been anyone else here but me. Definitely no guys hanging around.”
I turn on my heel and blindly make my way into the bedroom. This cannot be happening. They wouldn’t have abandoned me, not after everything, not after what I just escaped with Andreas Noire.
Rita follows after me, tugging a sweater over her head, then hopping around in an effort to pull on some yoga pants. “You need more rest, P. Just get back into bed, and I’ll sort you out some food, yeah? I only grabbed a quick shower because I was kinda certain that you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon, and even flying like a damn queen, I was all jet-lagged and covered in travel grime.”
Tugging open my drawers, I find a sports bra to wrestle into, then a pair of leggings and a threadbare hoodie to toss over the top of the t-shirt I was sleeping in. There’s no time for showering or anything else, except getting back to Noire House and finding them.
I couldn’t live with myself if something happened after that bloodbath. Oh god, what if they’ve been blamed? What if the Anguis came after them?
My limbs go numb at the intrusive thoughts. All of which picture the loves of my life in any number of scenarios involving torture and brutal punishment.
Clamminess coats the back of my neck.
“Wait. Why are you getting dressed? Honestly, I’ll cook us up a little breakfast scramble or something, and if you want to sleep all day, that’s totally cool. I’ve got designs I need to sketch—
“Is your car here?” I say, pulling on a pair of worn sneakers.
“It is, but… ”
“Great. I’ll call you later.” I ransack through the top of the dresser. “Where is my phone?” I growl.
“Firstly, psycho-girl, you aren’t going anywhere. Secondly, yours is missing. The nurses said you didn’t have any belongings when you were brought into Port’s hospital by chopper.”
“What the fuck?” The wheels in my mind are screeching in clouds of burnt rubber, spinning round and round on the spot, trying to make sense of what the hell is going on. “NO. I’m not going back to my old life… no way am I returning to this ... this shitty half-existence.” I jab my finger, pointing at the sparseness of my apartment.
Rita folds her arms. “You shouldn’t even be out of that bed.”
“Are you going to help me, or not? Are you my best friend?”
“‘Til the day I fall down dead. You’re stuck with me.”
“Then give me your keys, right now. I don’t have time to explain.” With gritted teeth I hold out my open palm.
“Hell, no. You are not driving.”
“ FUCK .” I shove my hands in my hair with a frustrated shout. How the hell am I supposed to get myself out of the city and find them? “Screw it. I’ll start walking then.”
“Jesus, P.” Rita snatches up her handbag and chases after me. “You’d better start talking once we’re driving because whatever this is, I’m your ride or die, but I’d at least like to know what kinda chaos I need to be ready for when we get there.”
I’m jogging across the sidewalk to yank open the door of Rita’s car. As my gaze meets hers across the roof, I feel the surge of urgency grip me even harder. My best friend had better pull out her lead foot, or I’m going to be wrestling her for the driver’s seat.
“We’re going back to Noire House.”
The entire duration of time it took to navigate endless traffic, get out of the city, and begin traversing the mist-laden hills surrounding Noire Estate felt like an exercise in climbing out of my skin.
I’ve also been forced into answering every probing question from my best friend, who has unraveled the entire spiral of tangled details piece by piece. Mostly disbelieving at first, telling me that I must be out of my head on painkillers until eventually, Rita came to a speechless conclusion that I was, in fact, telling the truth.
Those last miles only intensified the wild tempest of emotion, and I sat chewing the inside of my cheek in silence, with a desperate sinking feeling that I’d arrive too late.
I’ve almost successfully convinced myself that each minute ticking by on the digital clock on her dash marks the moment I left it too long. That by the time we get there, the Anguis will have done their worst.
“Uh. Babe. I don’t know how we’re going to get in?” Rita says hesitantly as we arrive in front of the ominous closed gates rising up in heavy, ornate ironwork.
Our wheels have barely come to a stop before I launch out of the door and race to try to push them open. The freezing cold metal doesn’t budge no matter how hard I throw my weight against it. As I peer up at the razor-sharp spikes covering the top, there’s one clear message here. Climb over at your peril.
“Poe…” I hear my friend’s voice behind me as she winds down her window, but I’m running around the hood to the intercom panel and biometric scanner discreetly embedded into the stonework beside the entrance .
“Hawke Calliano. I know you’re there. You’re watching this right now, aren’t you? Yeah, I know you are.” I yell. I shove my palm against the sleek black pane of glass, hoping that maybe I’ve somehow magically got access to the mansion.
I have to cling to that tiny piece of hope that he’s in his usual desk chair. I’ve already imagined all the worst possibilities to the contrary, and this is the moment I’m hanging onto by my fingernails, praying that he’s alive and healthy and is going about his usual routine at the club.
Nothing comes of it. No matter how many times I keep hollering into the speaker, or press my thumb at different angles. The entrance sits cold and morbidly still in response. My head flicks back up to look at the deathly sharp spires adorning the curved arch of the gates.
“I know where you fucking sleep. Open this gate right now, or I’ll climb this thing and risk impaling myself, so help me—”
The words die on my lips as there’s a heavy metallic thunk, and the gates start to slowly swing inwards. I don’t even wait to get in the car; my feet carry me forward on a sprint, and I thread my shoulders through the gap before they’ve hardly opened wide enough.
Behind me, Rita is calling out and cursing me. Except, I don’t listen. All I’m focused on is finding them. Instead of following the gravel path, I start racing across the grass, making a direct line for the direction of the house.
Our house.
Rita pulls up and slowly rolls along the drive, with wheels crunching, and yells at me out the passenger window while leaning across the center console. “P… girl… for fuck’s sake, get in the car.”
But I can’t stop. The thought of getting back in that car and needing to follow the winding vehicle access leaves my skin crawling and my stomach turning. Instead of replying, I put my head down and keep running for my goddamn life .
Behind me, she lets out a stifled noise of frustration, and the car disappears from my periphery as I follow the rolling line of trees that I know will lead me to where I need to get to, as fast as my legs can carry me.
My lungs burn violently, and white-hot pain sears down my thighs and calves. Tears prick my eyes with each thudding step because I can’t lose them. I can’t bear to do any of this without them, and if the worst has come to pass, I don’t know how I’m going to be able to carry on.
With a gasp and dampness brimming over my eyelashes, I see the flash of glass reflecting through its hiding spot, concealed by trees, and the house comes into view but still seems to be endlessly far away.
Those last few hundred feet are an impossible trek through mud, as they feel like they take an eternity to eat up as I keep straining to make it there. Without hope or reason or any fucking thing to cling to, other than being drawn to them like a forcefield has hooked in behind my ribs and keeps tugging me forward.
They have to be here.
By the time I skid to a halt at the front of the glass sliding door to the kitchen, my cheeks feel numb, along with my fingers and entire chest. There’s a swarm of wings erupting inside my stomach, one part hope and one part trepidation because what if I yank this door open only to discover the place is echoing and deserted?
Throwing the door wide, I step in and have to blink to adjust to the dim lighting and stinging tears coating my eyes.
I’ve hardly set foot through the doorway, when a solid body collides with mine. Tattoos flash in my vision, and hazel eyes catch mine, scooping me against a solid chest. Grey wraps my legs around his waist as I gasp out loud in a partial sob.
“Shut up. Shut the hell up . Don’t say a fucking thing.” He growls in between raining down biting kisses across my tingling lips. “I love you, little flower.”
“I didn’t say anything,” my lips mumble against his. He’s so warm. He’s alive. He’s here. Relief pours into my extremities with a tumbling, racing flood of emotion.
“Well, shut up, and let me tell you, anyway. I love you.”
“I love you, my butcher. You know I do.” My words come out halting. Choked up and starved for breath.
“It nearly fucking broke me that you didn’t know… before… that I’d never been goddamn brave enough to tell you.” He swallows, and those hazel eyes capture me with the layers of turmoil hidden there.
“I knew. I know you do.” I bury my face in the crook of his neck and cling to him like I’m about to slip off my foundations if I’m not merged with him along every part of my body.
It’s only another heartbeat before strong hands grab me, pulling me gently to be consumed in a matching embrace. Deeper, gasping sobs take hold of my body, leaving me shaking as that giant chest encloses me, cradles me into the safety of the arms I can’t imagine living life without.
Angel pins me to him in the tightest hug imaginable and inhales deeply against my hair. Relief and anguish thrum through his muscles as he silently holds me and lets my tears soak into the front of his t-shirt.
I don’t have words for him. There aren’t any to do justice to how this river of emotion spreads and flows over the banks and consumes everything in its path.
He holds me so capably, with one hand wrapped to support my weight, and drags one of my hands from the back of his neck. Claiming my palm inside his giant paw, he brings it to his chest and taps twice.
“ Yours.” I exhale with a choked sniffle.
That same hand brings my wrist up to his lips and he kisses the inner stretch of skin, my pulse point. Letting his warm, wet mouth brush over the sensitive spot. The bristle of his beard as he lets his love pour into my veins right through the delicate skin and straight into my bloodstream is a reminder that this isn’t a dream. This is real. He’s here, and I’m not imagining this.
“ My blood, it’s yours, too. ” My nose runs along his neck, desperately soaking in the feel and scent of him. The closeness makes me feel like it’ll never be enough, like I want to find a way to climb inside his skin and hide out there within the sanctuary this man provides.
He makes the decision for me, eventually setting me down on unsteady feet and cups my cheeks with both hands. On a low, vibrating sound that comes from deep somewhere inside his chest cavity, he swipes away my tears with his thumbs, before pressing a gentle kiss to my mouth.
I fucking love you.
The words flow from him, and I fist the front of his shirt as those words shoot straight to my shaken-up core and start to settle everything. Because this is it. This right here is it.
These men are my everything, and I’m not going to ever allow anything to come between us again.
Angel turns us both around, keeping an arm banded across the front of my shoulders, and as soon as he does, I understand why he’s keeping hold of me.
Hawke is seated at the kitchen island, digging a hand into his hair. When he glances up, there’s a vast ocean of pain coloring those blue eyes of his into a deep, swirling abyss. As soon as his gaze connects with mine, the silent cry surges from my lungs.
Every second I look at him closer, I see the evidence. I see a map of bruises across his jaw and high on his beautiful cheekbones. Dark circles ring his almost sunken eyes. A split covering both his top and bottom lip is mottled purple, swollen with the blunt force of whoever has done this to him.
“Oh my fucking god.” I rush to close the space, and it’s only the lingering hold of Angel that prevents me from colliding with him full force.
My beautiful man. My stoic, impossible asshole.
“ Princess .” He winces in an effort to speak, with one hand favoring his ribs, and I immediately want to hunt down whoever has done this to him and spill blood in a rabid frenzy. I’ll do it with my teeth if I have to.
“What happened? Who did this?” I hover my hands over his abused skin, wanting so badly to touch him, but also terrified of hurting him further in my need to be at his side.
“We had to make sure you were out of sight. The fallout was always going to be brutal, but I’ll be ok.” Hawke draws me to stand between his knees and takes my chin between thumb and forefinger. “I’ve had much worse. Don’t look at me like I’m going to break, princess.”
A fat tear rolls down my cheek as I take in the sight of him up close.
“Shhh. No need to cry.” He whispers, then leans forward to press his lips to mine ever so softly, and I feel the scrape of his cut against my mouth.
“Things turned to hell, love.” Grey's voice comes up at my side. “We had the evidence on camera to prove your innocence, but needed to get you well away from the firestorm this place descended into once…”
“Once his body was found.” I finish for him, as I study Hawke’s features. Reaching up, I brush some strands of roguish hair off his forehead because that’s about the only place I feel like I can touch him without potentially hurting him.
“It wasn’t pretty,” Grey says.
“So I didn’t imagine her.” My gaze flicks to Angel, and he returns that look with one that speaks volumes. His sister. The one his own brother nearly violated and murdered.
“The footage doesn’t show anything conclusive.” Hawke clears his throat. “Other than your innocence, of course.” He adds.
“Is that what happened to your face?” I feel the emotion rising up my throat. “The Anguis attempting to find out who was responsible?”
“It doesn’t matter… it’s over now.” His eyes crease at the corners, and some of that lightness, the faintest glimpse of that vivid sapphire, returns to his irises.
“Were you coming to get me? Because I can tell you right now, I never want to be left to wake up alone like that, ever again.” I narrow my attention on the man before me, because there’s something in his energy I do not like one bit.
“You don’t want this—you can’t want this.” The muscle in Hawke’s bruised jaw flickers.
“No. Nope. I’m not some goldfish for you to just put back in a bowl.”
Both Grey and Angel bristle, like they want to interject, but also know that this is my battle to win with Hawke Calliano.
“Life would be easier for you. Away from all this. You’re not obliged to be here anymore. Now that bastard is gone, things are different.”
I bark out a laugh. “Don’t tell me what I want. You told me to learn how to swim, and I’ve never felt more at ease than I do when I’m around you. Wherever you are is exactly where I want to be, so if you want to spend all day inside this place, inside this mansion, then you’ve got me as your shadow.”
He shifts his weight awkwardly on his seat, clearly in a world of pain that he’s doing his best to disguise. So, I cut him off before he has a second to start giving me more of his smooth words that he thinks will sway me.
I jab a finger into Grey’s chest, where he stands at my side. “I love you.” I poke at Angel’s massive bicep. “And I love you.” With a final glare, I point right at Hawke’s stupidly handsome features. “And I love you. ”
My voice is a whisper yell, as I forge on without drawing breath. “If you think you’re going to get rid of me, then you’re all idiots. I’m ridiculously in love with all of you. Chop open my heart, and all you’ll find is your three names carved there forever. Even if you don’t want me, then tough, I’ve got a tracker in the back of my neck that proves you won’t be able to lose me even if you damn well try to. I’m not going anywhere.”
As I finish my tirade, my heaving breaths fill the quiet. It’s like time has stood still, forced to halt its march forward, as my words echo around us in a swirl of determination.
“See, I told you our girl would be pissed.” Grey’s finally the one to break the deadlock, with a smirk in his voice.
Hawke shoots him a disapproving look, then pinches my chin. “That’s exactly the problem, princess, we’re too alike, you and I. So the truth is, I’m already yours. No matter what. I’ve been right fucking here, and I’m not fucking going anywhere, whether you like it or not, either.”
I look at him, a little lost for words now. “You are? What if I didn’t want you, hmm ? What if your little plan to ditch me back in Port worked a little too well, and I didn’t come running back here as soon as I woke up?”
His thumb brushes my bottom lip in that way he always does that makes my knees go weak for this man. “Then you were going to need to get used to the idea. There wasn’t a version of this story where we left you alone.”
My throat works down a swallow. “Is this the book where the happy ending gets to exist?” I whisper, staring at him with so much hope sitting high in my chest it feels like I’m breathing rarified air.
“This is the story where I’m so in love with you. I feel like I’m fighting to breathe, princess.” Hawke draws me to him and lets our mouths connect with a gentle kiss that rips straight through to seek out my heart, scooping me up and telling me of his love, in his own way. The kind of love he’s learning to share .
“Are we safe now? Here… at Noire House, I mean?” I look around between the three of them as Hawke finally lets me go and my pulse feels like it's in overdrive with relief and the fluttering swell of emotion.
“There are still unknowns to come,” Grey murmurs. “But for now, it’s just us, love. The club, the estate, it’s all under Hawke’s care and command. With Andreas’ death… your agreement with him, and anyone else, was severed. In the eyes of the Anguis, you’re free to live as you like within the Household.”
“So, we can stay here?” Hope bubbles up, bright and sparkling.
“If that’s what you want, princess.”
“It is. I mean, as long as it’s what you want, too.” I feel heat blossom in my cheeks, because it seems unbelievable that this is our future, unfolding right before my eyes.
Angel nudges my elbow and hands me his phone with words on the screen written for me.
You brighten all of our days, and calm all our nights, beautiful girl. I’m forever falling in love with you, and lucky enough to love these two assholes as well. Let us be the ones who get to love you and care for you the way you do for us.
Please.
I blink rapidly at him and wrap my arms around his waist.
“You love them, too?” I mumble against his shirt.
“Apparently, we’re getting real good at admitting this kinda shit.” Grey joins me on my other side and encircles my waist with his strong embrace. Kissing my neck, he chuckles. “Be proud of me, little flower; apparently, being terrified at the prospect of losing you turns me into a heartsick puppy.”
I feel Angel reach over and wrap a hand around the back of Grey’s neck, and my two men take a moment to share a soft kiss. And it feels so unbelievably right to be at the center of all of them.
Hawke clears his throat and shows us his phone screen. On it, there is black-and-white security footage of Rita’s car parked in front of Noire House.
Without so much as a blink, he raises the phone to his ear, keeping his sapphire gaze on me the entire time.
“Rita. Don’t worry, she’s here.” He pauses. “Follow the road to your left, and it’ll bring you to Poe. It’ll be nice to properly meet you.”
I hear my friend’s muffled voice on the other end of the line, and then he hangs up.
“What—How do you have her number?” My eyebrows hit my hairline.
“Someone had to make sure she got that fancy opportunity over in Paris. Our big softy here wanted to ensure your friend was safe and couldn’t possibly be used by Andreas to blackmail you.” Grey plants a kiss on the top of my head. “Not to mention Hawke had her flown back here as soon as he knew you needed someone to be there for you.”
I’m left standing there, open-mouthed.
“You arranged all that?” I continue gaping at him.
Hawke shrugs a shoulder, and then pain slices across his features. “Anything for you, Poe. You have to believe me when I say that.”
My bottom lip starts to wobble as the enormity of everything starts to sink in.
“God… I just… I fucking love you. Equally. Together. I don’t even know how to put it into words.”
Angel snuggles me tighter, and I can feel the love that we all share in different ways surrounding us.
“You’re here and safe, and we love you like a fucking pack of monsters that will do anything to protect you. That’s all that matters.” Grey hits me with his sparkling hazel eyes and that crooked smile I’ll forever see in my most treasured dreams.
“You’re our home, little flower.”