Epilogue One #3
“Bastian wants to play board games, and Gram is making dinner. You two want to come down?” I whisper, tears staining my face.
I don’t believe in miracles. I believe in hard work and strength and sacrifice and integrity.
All of those reasons are why Ash is still here with us, and I’m not going to waste a second of a life we all fought so hard to achieve.
We both sit up and put our own backs against the headboard, so that Bohnes is pressed against my left side and Ash on my right followed by Widow and then Alexei. Together, we sit in a row in our big, beautiful bedroom and stare at a blank wall that needs a better paint color and some sick art.
“We want to come down.” Widow folds his strong arms over his bare chest, titillating my poor, sad neglected pussy.
Those arms, that strength, are why Ash is still alive.
Muscle is right. Me being attracted to big, hunky testosterone-pumped Prescott beasts is not a bad deal, eh?
“I had an alarm set for eight-thirty anyway.”
Something is digging into my ass (and not in a sexy way), so I reach under my cheeks and pull out the damn frog stuffie, handing it over to Ash with a smile. He takes it in his own arms, also shirtless and stunning and sporting a scar below his navel that makes me feel stabby all over again.
Jonas might temporarily be alive but, like with his son, keeping him breathing means keeping his suffering tuned to the max.
We haven’t forgotten about him and, until he’s dead, we can’t and we won’t.
For now, Emma Jean slandering him online, putting the deaths of the protestors and the death of his own son on his head, that’s enough.
He has no contacts left with which to hurt us from behind bars.
“I want to learn every single one of your obaa-sama’s recipes,” Ash says with a romantic, wistful sigh, holding the frog plush while the living frog croaks from his perch on the dresser.
Having to live like he’s dead doesn’t bother Ash in the slightest. He enjoys being a yakuza househusband.
“If blood and bones are Kellin’s medium, then food is hers. ”
“I prefer your cooking,” Alexei says off-handedly, as if that’s not a gargantuan compliment pouring from his aristocratic lips.
“Me, too,” Widow adds after a few minutes of comfortable, companionable silence. “Not that I dislike Patricia’s food, just…you know…”
“Same.” Bohnes folds his arms behind his head, grinning as he flicks a blue-eyed look down the line of boys.
“Don’t tell her that,” I warn, letting my body go warm and slinky and relaxed in their presence. “Pretend you love it, so she doesn’t swat you all with a newspaper again. I don’t want her hitting my husbands.”
“Having a grandmother is a luxury I will never take for granted.” Alexei turns sharp, green eyes my way.
A mobster’s eyes. Criminal. Sharp. “Having a family like ours is the greatest luxury of all. I look forward to the moments we’ll spend together, and all of the great and wonderful things we’ll achieve. ”
“Fuck, I am crying again. Jesus Christ.” Widow dashes his hands over his face, but he’s only laughing. That cheap, husky Prescott laugh. Shit, I almost came. “Leave it to Scarlett Force to make me grateful for living in a goddam harem.”
“I make miracles happen, don’t I?” I ask haughtily, leaning over Ash to press a kiss to Widow’s cheek, tasting his sweet stubble and breathing his forest scent.
As I sit back, Bohnes catches my eye and offers up a smile that you’d really have to see to believe, something soft and gentle and bursting with love. This next sentence should never have left my big mouth.
“Only bone I have to pick with you four is the lack of—”
I stop myself, but the damage is done. They know what I was going to say.
Ash and Widow are traumatized, and bringing up sex like I was just about to? Not cool.
“Scarlett.” This is Adrian, shoving the covers down and then crawling half over Ash so he can look me dead in the face.
“You think you’re the only one that wants to fuck?
Get over yourself. Let’s get our obligatory family time in and then retreat.
I’m horny as hell, princess, and you have duties to perform. ”
I slap him as he retreats, both of us offering Ash a questioning look.
“I may not be up to a lot of tasks, but surely, I could have my cock sucked?” Ash muses, giving Bohnes a glance as if asking how he managed to fuck with an IV in his arm and three seperate GSWs.
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. If Scarlett is busy, Alexei should do it.
He owes you one, doesn’t he?” Bohnes leaps out of bed, moving over to the window and opening the shutters to a clear, crisp night filled with pine trees, peace, and stars.
He closes his eyes briefly, moonshine streaming across the face of a man, not a ghoul. Magnificent. He’s magnificent.
Soon, we’ll move away from this place, to another city in another state in another world, but even here, Prescott is a fading memory for me. I’m ready to move on and start fresh together.
“If Scarlett wishes for it, then I will do it.” Alexei sighs dramatically, pushing princely blond hair back from his forehead with a flourish. “But I’m quite sure Ash would prefer Scarlett. We all do. That’s something of the point, yes?”
“You fuckers, get up and let’s go. You know you four can’t keep up with me anyway.” I help Ash out of bed and into some pants, trying not to ogle his cock as I hold them, so that all he has to do is step into the legs.
As we’re heading downstairs, I hear the front door open and two familiar voices in the foyer.
Ah.
That’s right.
I told Gram that she could invite Auntie Anita and…Geneva, bleh…over for dinner.
Whatever.
At least my bitch mom can see what happens when you train your daughter to make all her life choices in direct opposition to the stupid ones you did.
Also, if she asks me for money, I’m kicking her out.
As for Anita, the Borisov Group owns the apartment building she’s now living in.
I’ve decided that for a belated Christmas gift, I’m going to give her a break on rent.
As in, free. But only for her, not for my mother.
“Girl, what the fuck?!” I hear Anita shout from downstairs. Remember: once a Prescott bitch, always a Prescott bitch. “You didn’t just bring home the bacon, you brought home the whole damn pig!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” I shout back, making sure my cloud of lovers is behind me. I descend the steps like a fairy-tale princess. Instead of cute little animals chasing after me, I have dangerous, violent fuckboys.
Isn’t that sweet?
Life has never been so damn good.