1. Crew
Crew
Nova.
A strangled sound caught in my throat as air finally filled my lungs and sweat clung to my back.
My side still burned where a bullet had ripped through my flesh in the dream, and for half a second my body refused to process the difference between dream and reality.
But then I heard something over the roaring sound of blood rushing in my ears.
Nova’s breathing was soft and even, grounding me in the chaos that my mind had caused.
Her plush body was wrapped around the pregnancy pillow I got her for the times she couldn’t get comfortable in the bed.
I wasn’t lying in a pool of my own blood at the feet of my enemies, and my family hadn’t been taken from me.
Relaxing my fingers, I released the gun and pressed my palm flat over Nova’s round belly.
Our son shifted inside her, slow and steady, like he needed to remind me of what I had to lose if I let my nightmare become our reality.
The smell of gun smoke and blood dispersed as I watched my wife sleeping peacefully beside me.
I untangled her from her pillow and pulled her body into mine, trying to rid myself of the last remnants of fear that had tried to drag me down.
Nova’s body was warm against my skin; the weight of her firm belly pressed lightly into me.
I sighed in relief as the tightness in my chest relaxed.
This was my reality. My pregnant wife was safe in my arms as our daughter slept peacefully down the hall.
The nightmare wasn’t real, no matter how real it had sounded or even felt.
I ran my fingers across her bare skin and breathed in the sweet scent of vanilla on her skin, before pressing a kiss on her forehead.
Nova stirred in my arms, her lashes fluttering as she lifted her face toward mine.
“What time is it?” she whispered, her voice raspy with sleep.
“It’s still early. Go back to sleep, Princess.” I said, pulling her closer.
“Are you alright? You seem tense.”
I must not have answered quick enough, because she reached for me, placing her soft hand on my face before sighing.
I leaned into her loving caress, knowing she could tell something was wrong.
Nova had learned to read my silence the way a scientist could read a storm by how the air changed right before the lightning struck.
“I’m fine, Princess.” I said lying, because lying was easier than confessing that I had died at the hands of my ex only moments before in my head.
Her hand slid over my chest, right where the bullet had ripped through my flesh. Her fingers found my heartbeat calming it with a simple touch. This was nothing new for us. Nova was my safe space, always making sure to keep me grounded.
“If you want to talk about it, I'm here.” She said, sounding exhausted.
“It’s nothin’.” I said, my wording coming out rough damn near scraping my throat on the way out.
Nova stared up at me as if she was trying to find the worry clouding my mind and pluck it out.
But then her eyes softened before she rested her head back on my chest. She didn’t push for answers right then and I appreciated it.
Nova had come to understand me on a level that no one else ever had.
She understood that a man like me wasn’t built to cry on my woman’s shoulder and that it was hard for me to lay my burdens at her feet.
But understanding and accepting were two different things.
Nova would forever be my equal, my other half and as such she took it upon herself to make sure I was always centered.
“You’ve been waking up out of your sleep more and more lately.” She said quietly. “And I know you didn’t think I hadn't noticed you sneaking out of bed almost every night.”
“Go back to sleep, Princess,” I said. I wrapped Nova in my arms, like I was trying to memorize the feeling and maybe I was, because all of this could be gone in the blink of an eye. And if my dream hadn’t proved anything else it did wake me up to what I needed to do.
I had actually thought I was being discreet when I snuck out to go train with the twins at the range we had built at the back of the property.
I needed to be in peak condition if I wanted to win this war.
There were no other options. Nova shifted in my arms, getting more comfortable.
She moved carefully the way she always did now, always protective of our son in her belly.
I listened to her breathing grow steadier until she finally settled into my arms as if she felt safe there.
I waited until her breathing leveled out again, watching her for a long moment, dedicating every inch of her beautiful face to memory just in case this was the last time I could slow down and take her in.
And when I had gotten my fill, I slid out of bed without makin’ a sound just like I did every night.
My feet hit the plush carpet, cloaking my footsteps as I grabbed a shirt and a pair of sweats from the closet and pulled them on.
When I was dressed, I picked up my gun from the nightstand, checking the chamber to make sure it was loaded.
Once I was sure, I tucked it in my waistband as I moved toward the bedroom door.
Pausing, I stopped before my hand reached the knob and looked back to make sure Nova was still asleep.
She snored lightly, her chest rising in even breaths.
Convinced she wouldn’t wake up anytime soon; I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
A comfortable silence met me as I closed the door softly behind me.
The hallway was empty and still. There was no crunch of heavy boots across broken glass or the strong scent of copper clinging to the air.
I walked down the hall and stopped outside Timberly’s room.
Her door was cracked the way she liked it, “just enough so I can hear y’all,” she had said earlier that week.
I pushed it open slowly, watching the moonlight from the top of her window spilling across her bed.
Timberly was sprawled sideways, one arm thrown over her stuffed animal and her comforter tucked under her chin.
A few stray curls framed her peaceful face from where she had put her bonnet on herself, like a big girl.
I was so proud of how brave she was, much braver than any seven-year-old should have to be.
Timberly had insisted on sleeping in her own bed lately, saying that she was too old to still sleep in the bed with her mother.
I think her choice to sleep alone might have had to do with the fact that Nova was getting bigger and Timberly didn’t want her mom to be uncomfortable.
Nova had done a great job raising her. She was seven-years-old and already more emotionally intelligent and courageous than most adults.
But the fact was she shouldn’t have needed courage in her own house.
I stepped closer and watched her breathe, counting the rise and fall of her blanket.
My hands curled into fists at my sides as I remembered her screams for me in my dream.
In the nightmare, they’d taken her first, securing the prize that Valdez and the Harris’s thought they could bargain with. I reached out and brushed her curls from her forehead. Timberly stirred but didn’t wake.
“Crew-dad got you, baby girl.” I whispered.
The words rang true in my head because that nightmare would never become a reality as long as I had breath in my lungs, that was a promise.
A promise that I was willing to bleed for.
I turned and walked out, closing her door behind me and walking back down the hall with my thoughts moving faster than my feet.
That nightmare couldn’t have been my mind playing a fucked up cosmic joke on me.
That shit was too detailed for it to have some random thoughts in my head.
It was my instincts; the ones Pops had taught me as a kid screaming at me in the only way they could.
Those instincts were warning me that I needed to act instead of waiting for them to try and come for us again.
I had gotten too comfortable in my life; I had let that edge go that made me dangerous.
The ruthless edge I needed when I was in control of Pop's more unsavory, less legal businesses.
I let it go, thinking that I wouldn’t need those particular set of skills in this life, but I was wrong.
I allowed myself to find a love in this life that I would die to keep.
Nova and Timberly brought me peace and calm to a hectic life.
That was the problem, my love for them gave my enemies something to take, a way to break me.
But never again.
No one would ever get a chance to touch my family again.
I went to my office and shut the door behind me before going to the monitor at my desk.
The scenes showed each part of the property and up to 10 miles beyond.
Everything was clear and the men were patrolling like clockwork.
The quiet should’ve eased me, but it didn’t.
I leaned back in my chair and pressed my fingers to my temple, forcing myself to breathe slow.
The fear of losing it all tried to rise again, hot and useless.
But I pushed it down where it belonged. I wasn’t built to panic like some scared bitch.
I was built to strategize and execute and that’s what the fuck I was gon’ to do.
I opened a secure app and pulled up the list of locations I kept off the books.
Pops had made sure I kept a few properties under different names with no digital trail attached to them as safe houses in times of danger.
Each location had a code word associated with its location.
Besides me, Pops and the twins were the only ones that knew they existed.