30. The Reckoning
CHAPTER THIRTY
THE RECKONING
Orion
The hospital calls me as soon as we get back to my apartment. Layla is still staying with me—my contractor is currently installing the new AC unit, so she won’t be ready to move back into her house until later tonight at the earliest. After waiting for her for so many years, having her finally in my life feels almost unreal. The thought of her leaving, even if just to go back to her house, stirs an unexpected pang of anxiety in my chest. She must notice the tension in my shoulders because she kisses my shoulder before walking away to give me privacy.
“Hello?” I answer, though I’m pretty sure I know what they’re going to say.
“Mr. Ravage?”
“Yep, that’s me.” My words feel silly—who else would they call? I’m his only point of contact.
“I’m sorry to be the one to call you, but your father was in a considerable amount of pain, and we had to give him pain medication. Unfortunately, we were unable to rouse him just now, and he appears to be in a coma. I’ve asked the doctor to assess him, and we’ve determined he doesn’t have much time—maybe another couple of hours, if you’d like to come say goodbye.”
I let out a long, slow breath. “Yeah. I’ll be right there. Thank you.”
I end the call and stare down at the screen, waiting for some kind of emotion to pass through me.
Nothing comes—I feel empty.
I feel nothing.
“Everything okay?” Layla asks, handing me a sparkling water.
“It’s my dad. He’s… in a coma and they don’t think he has much time left. They called me so I had time to say goodbye.”
Her brows pull together, and one of her hands comes to the back of my neck. I nuzzle into her touch as I close my eyes.
“What do you need?” she asks.
The scent of fresh strawberries makes me relax into her touch even further, and I place a kiss against the inside of her wrist.
When I open my eyes, she’s watching me with a worried expression.
“Nothing. I should go, though—so he’s not alone.”
Her brow relaxes, and she nods once. “Of course. My dad and I can always come stay with you, if needed.”
I smile glumly. “It’s okay. I think I need to do this myself.”
“Okay. Let me make you a quick bite to eat before you go.”
I watch her move to the kitchen, and something tightens in my chest. It’s been so long since anyone has made me something to eat.
Not since my mom.
She’s wrapping up an apple, stuffing crackers, beef jerky, and almonds into a bag, and I can’t help but feel a mix of emotions I’m not even sure how to name.
I’m not used to this—someone thinking about me like this. It’s such a small thing, really, making lunch, but it feels like more .
Like something I’ve been missing for a long time.
I stand at the island, silent and waiting. My hands twitch on the counter, and I crack my knuckles to give them something to do.
I don’t want her to see how much this means to me, how much it hurts to realize what I’ve been missing, so I just stand there, taking it in, grateful and a little lost at the same time.
“Here you go,” she says a minute later, placing a canvas, reusable bag into my arms. Standing on her tiptoes, she kisses me on the lips. “Check in with me when you can, okay?”
She pulls away, but I grab her waist and pull her close. One of my hands wraps around the back of her head, and she moans when I kiss her—when my tongue parts her lips, when I inhale sharply, when I don’t let go.
After a minute, I pull away, taking the thoughtful lunch in my hands. “I will. Thank you for this. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
I walk toward the door, and Sparrow comes barreling around the corner of the hallway, meowing. He winds between my legs, so I crouch down to pet him.
“Take care of your mom,” I murmur, running my hand over his soft fur.
He meows, and just then, Earl comes flying into the room, too.
“You too, Earl. I’ll be back later.”
“Cat family,” he croaks.
I huff a laugh. “I guess.”
“Pretty girl family.”
His words send fire to something emotional in my brain, and I nod once. “One day.”
I drop the packed lunch onto a chair as I walk into my dad’s hospice room. It’s a little nicer here—not as big as the suite, but there are at least plants and flowers.
A handmade quilt draped over the lower half of his body.
A humidifier going in the corner.
Swallowing, my feet stay planted. My hands curl at my sides, and I stare down at the man who was everything I wanted to be when I was younger, and everything I wanted to run away from more recently.
My life with him flashes through my mind.
Memories of following my older brothers around, with my mom chasing us all around Ravage Castle. There were happy times—I remember the camping trips, the family dinners, the family movie nights. But by the time I was four or five, my dad started drinking more. He pulled back, becoming obsessed with money. I spent my childhood making sure I didn’t upset him, running to my mom when he yelled at us, and learning how to keep my mouth shut. The older I got, the more my brothers protected me from the chaos. Chase and Kai, especially, since once Liam and Miles moved out, they were no longer in the house to witness everything that happened.
He was so strong and intimidating, terrifying… and now?
I step closer. The machine next to his bed beeps rhythmically, but I don’t miss the low resting heart rate or the low oxygen levels.
“Hi, Dad.”
He doesn’t move.
I’ve only ever watched my mother die, and I don’t remember what I did while we waited for her to take her last breath. I had Layla and Scott—we all held hands for hours as we kept our eyes on Mom.
But this.
I swallow and sit down in the chair. Something heavy and unwelcome settles in my chest. The weight of the room presses down on me, like it’s pulling me into the floor. The machine beeps on. I glance at the door, half expecting to see someone else walk through it, to share this burden with them, to fill the room with something other than the sound of this damn machine and the silence that hangs heavy between me and my father.
What the hell do you tell someone who’s dying?
I grind my jaw as the minutes tick by. I’m restless, and uneasiness slithers through me.
I’m alone.
I’m alone.
I’m alone.
It feels like a betrayal, even though I know my brothers have their reasons for staying away. I wonder if they’ll regret it later, if they’ll wish they’d been here for this. Maybe they already do. Or maybe they’re just too scared to face him like this, to see the man who once commanded rooms and shattered our nerves reduced to a frail figure bound by wires and tubes. I get that. I wish I didn’t have to do this alone, either.
I wish someone else could take this moment from me so I wouldn’t have to sit here and confront everything he was and everything he’ll never be.
I regret not asking Layla to come with me because being the only person in a room while someone’s actively dying is… not fucking fun.
But I’m here. I’m the one who has to carry the weight of these last moments. The one who has to speak to him, even if he can’t respond, because the words have to be said. It feels like whatever is between us is too big to resolve in these final moments, but I can’t leave this room without trying. I can’t walk away and pretend that it doesn’t matter, that the last words spoken between us don’t matter.
I’m just about to get up to grab some coffee when the door to the room opens… and my four brothers walk in.
Miles is first, and his stoic expression takes in my father’s frail figure. His jaw hardens, and he looks at me. Out of all of them, Dad’s behavior affected him the most, and I’m truly surprised to see him here.
“Hey.”
“Who told you?” I ask, propping my foot on one knee.
“Layla texted Estelle,” he tells me, stepping farther into the room. Until a few years ago, he’d seen our father as regularly as I did. But then our dad had to fuck over Stella’s family, and that was that for Miles.
Liam walks in next, and he nods at me before finding a place along the wall.
Kai steps in second to last, jaw tight as he walks over to Dad. And then he does something I never would’ve expected—he drops to his knees and takes our father’s hands, starting to pray for him.
Chase walks in last. He comes to sit in the chair next to me. His hand claps my knee, and then we wait—we all watch as our father’s heartbeat slows. At one point, he opens his eyes, turning his head to take in Kai, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed and holding his hands.
Even the worst criminal doesn’t deserve to die alone.
You’re a better person than me.
I know.
It strikes me then—we’re all better people than he ever was. And maybe that’s the point. Maybe all parents, even the bad ones, hope their offspring will be better off than they were.
And I know it took a lot for my brothers to be here.
Hospice nurses pop in a couple of times, and the afternoon wears on. I share my lunch with my brothers, and then Liam offers to get us more coffee—ever the caretaker as the oldest.
It feels strange to be here with them. To be sharing this moment. The instant he takes his last breath, we’ll all be orphans. And it’s that thought, I think, that hangs over us.
Around five, his breathing turns ragged.
At five thirty, the machine flatlines, and he lets out his final breath.
I always assumed the beeping would continue, but the nurses must turn the sound off at their station to give us privacy.
The silence is deafening, more overwhelming than the beeping that had filled the room just moments before. I feel the loss like a physical blow, but I force myself to stay steady, to stay present.
I don’t have to endure the loss alone, though.
We all walk over to him, placing our hands on top of his.
“To being better,” I say, my voice breaking on the last syllable. The words are heavy, but they carry a promise I hope we can keep.
“To being happier,” Miles says. His voice is soft, almost fragile, as if the weight of the moment could break him.
“To being kinder,” Liam adds, placing an arm around my shoulder, his grip firm, grounding. I can feel the silent strength he offers, the way he’s holding us all up.
Chase steps forward next, his jaw clenched, eyes wet but focused. “To being stronger,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.
Not letting the Ravage name drag us down forever, I think.
Kai is the last to speak, his hand trembling slightly as he places it over Dad’s. “To being braver,” he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. His words linger in the air, a quiet vow to face the future without fear.
As we stand there, a quiet resolve forms between us, binding us together in a way that feels different from anything before.
A moment later, the nurse comes in and offers her condolences, and shortly after, Liam and Miles leave together, giving me a quick hug before exiting the hospital room.
Chase is next, and he hugs me for the longest before turning around and quickly walking out.
Kai turns to face me when I gather my things. “Did you drive here?”
I nod.
“Cool. I’ll walk you out.”
With one last glance over my shoulder, I walk out of the hospice room.
The two of us walk to the parking garage in silence. Once we get to my car, I give him a quick hug.
“You okay?” he asks, eyes studying me.
“Yeah. Surprisingly.”
“Plans tonight?”
I crack a smile. “Yeah.”
His lips twitch. “Let’s get dinner tomorrow, yeah?”
I give him a handshake. “Sure. Drive safe.”
I watch as he climbs into his car and drives away. Then I pull my phone out and text Layla.
Me: I’m on my way. Just have to make one stop first.
When I walk through the front door of Scott’s house, it smells like home. Somehow, it always has. Closing the door behind me, I set my helmet down on the entryway table and walk through the living room to the kitchen, where I find Scott cooking what looks to be an omelette.
“Hey, Ri,” he says, smiling as he turns around. “Everything okay? Your text sounded urgent.”
I open and close my mouth a couple of times, and my stepdad must notice the hesitation, because he sets the dish towel down on the counter and turns the burner off.
“My dad died,” I say slowly, trying the words out in my mouth for the first time.
Scott physically sags before taking a step forward. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Orion. What can I do?” Without thinking, he opens his arms and pulls me in for a hug. I squeeze my eyes shut, but I don’t cry. If anything, I’m relieved—and I don’t feel like I’m missing out on having a father figure.
After all, I have Scott.
Pulling away, I sniff once, but that’s all the emotion I show. “Nothing. It’s over now.”
“You sure? How are your brothers? Do they know?”
At this, I crack a smile. “Yeah. We all got to say goodbye.”
Scott’s face softens. “Your mom would be so proud of you all for that. She always worried you’d grow apart over the years, but it seems you’ve only gotten closer.”
I nod. “It was good being able to say goodbye to our dad together. It seems to have healed something in all of us.”
“Good. Well, I’m sorry for your loss.”
I shrug as I look at him. “It doesn’t feel like I’ve lost anything.”
My stepdad’s eyes go misty. “I’m glad. You know you’ll always be my son, right? Blood relation doesn’t matter. You’re a part of this family, and you always will be.”
I wince. I can’t help it. Rubbing the back of my neck, I take a deep breath. His eyes soften as he watches me, but there’s something else there too—a quiet understanding that settles between us, deep and unspoken. It presses on my chest, the heavy weight of guilt for keeping something so big from him. I swallow hard and take a breath.
“I, uh…” The nervous energy makes it hard to stand still. “I actually wanted to ask you for something. Officially.”
His eyebrows lift, curiosity replacing his usual fatherly sternness. “Go on.”
I shift my weight, deciding to blurt everything out and rip the bandaid off. Why the fuck not.
“I love Layla. I’ve loved her for a long time now. And I want to make sure I do this right.” My voice wavers for a second, but I steady myself, meeting his gaze head-on. “I want your blessing to ask her to marry me. When she’s ready, of course. We only just started … ”
For a second, there’s nothing but a distant hum of life going on around us. Scott doesn’t move, his face unreadable, and I wonder if I’ve overstepped. But then, slowly, a smile creeps onto his face, warm and genuine.
“You already have my blessing,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. He claps my shoulder, a little rougher this time, like he’s holding back the flood of feelings rushing between us. “You’ll be good for her. I know it.”
Relief surges through me, and I blink back the sudden sting in my eyes. “Thank you, Scott. It means the world to me that you approve.”
He clears his throat, pretending to be casual, but I can see the emotion tugging at the corners of his eyes. “Just make sure you don’t screw it up, alright? She’s my girl.”
“I won’t,” I promise, my voice firm with conviction. “I’ll take care of her. Always.”
Scott nods again, his hand still gripping my shoulder as if to cement the deal, then lets go with a sigh. “And if this recent health scare has taught me anything, it’s that I wouldn’t mind a couple of sproggets running around in the back yard someday soon?—”
“One step at a time, big guy.” I let out a relieved laugh.
“Don’t make me wait too long.”
I shrug and smile. “It’s entirely up to her. I won’t rush her.”
“I know you won’t.”
After a quick goodbye, I linger for a moment outside the house that means so much to me, staring at the sky, feeling the weight of the future settle in, but this time it feels right. A life with Layla. The thought fills me with hope for the very first time in my life.
And maybe, just maybe, the future he hinted at—sproggets and all—doesn’t seem so far away anymore.