Chapter 11
VALENTINA
I wake up before Xavier.
The morning light filters through the curtains in soft golden streaks, painting his face in warmth he doesn't usually allow himself in daylight.
He's still asleep beside me in the bed at the safe house, his face relaxed in a way it never is when he's awake.
No pain lines creasing his forehead. No tension in his jaw.
Just Xavier—vulnerable and human and mine.
My chest aches looking at him.
Yesterday he nearly killed himself proving a point.
Stood in front of sixty people on legs that barely work, held himself upright through sheer willpower and rage, and then collapsed the second the door closed.
I held him while he shook with pain and exhaustion.
Kissed him while he whispered things he'd never said before.
I love you.
The words echo in my head. He said them. Actually said them out loud instead of just showing me through actions, through the way he looks at me, through the way he touches me like I'm something precious.
I trace my finger along his jaw, feeling the stubble scratch my skin. He stirs slightly but doesn't wake. I should let him sleep—he needs it after yesterday—but I can't help myself. Can't stop touching him, confirming he's real and here and alive.
His eyes open slowly, focusing on me with that dark intensity that makes my stomach flip.
"Morning," he says, voice rough with sleep.
"Morning." I lean in and kiss him softly. "How do you feel?"
"Like I got hit by a truck." He shifts slightly and winces. "But alive. That's something."
"That's everything." I press my forehead to his. "Don't ever do that again."
"We already had this conversation," he murmurs, his hand coming up to cup the back of my neck. "I made no promises."
"Xavier—"
"I know." He kisses me, cutting off my protest. "I know, Val. But I had to do it. Had to show them."
I want to argue but I understand. God help me, I understand the need to prove you're not broken, that you're still capable, that you still matter. "You scared the shit out of me."
"I scared the shit out of myself," he admits quietly. "Thought I was going to pass out halfway through."
"But you didn't."
"But I didn't." Something like pride flickers in his eyes. "Made it through. Bought us time."
"At what cost?" I brush my thumb across his cheekbone. "You could barely move after."
"Worth it." He pulls me closer, ignoring the way his body protests. "Kept the club together. That's all that matters."
I don't agree but I don't argue. Instead I kiss him again, deeper this time, trying to pour everything I feel into it. All the fear and anger and desperate love I can't quite articulate.
"Stay in bed with me," he murmurs against my mouth. "Just for a little while. Before the world intrudes."
"Okay." I settle against his side, careful of his injuries. His arm comes around me, holding me close. We lie there in comfortable silence for several minutes, just breathing together.
"I meant what I said yesterday," he says finally. "I love you. In case you thought it was just the pain talking."
My throat tightens. "I know. I love you too."
"Yeah?" He sounds almost surprised, like he wasn't sure.
"Yeah." I tilt my head to look at him. "I've loved you for a while now. Just didn't know how to say it."
His hand traces patterns on my arm. "Say it again."
"I love you, Xavier King." The words come easier this time. "Even when you're being a stubborn idiot who nearly kills himself to prove a point."
He laughs, the sound low and warm. "Especially when I'm being a stubborn idiot."
"Especially then," I agree, smiling despite everything.
We fall back into silence but it's charged now, weighted with things we haven't said yet. Things we need to address before they explode.
"We should probably talk," I say carefully. "About... us. About what this is."
His hand stills on my arm. "What do you want it to be?"
"I don't know." I sit up, pulling away slightly so I can see his face properly. "I just know I can't lose you. Can't imagine my life without you in it."
"You're not going to lose me," he says firmly, echoing my words from yesterday. "I'm right here. Not going anywhere."
"But what does that mean?" I press. "What are we, Xavier? Because I need to know. Need to understand what this is before—"
"Before what?" His eyes narrow slightly. "Before you have to choose?"
The word hits like a slap. "I—"
"It's Zay and Asher, isn't it?" He's not angry exactly, but there's something sharp in his voice. "You have feelings for them too."
I can't lie to him. Not about this. "Yes."
He's quiet for a long moment, jaw working as he processes this. "How long?"
"I don't know. It's different with each of you." I twist my hands together, anxious. "Zay—it's been building since the beginning. The way he looks at me, the way he knows me. And Asher—" I stop, not sure how to explain it.
"Asher sees through you," Xavier finishes quietly. "Sees all the parts you try to hide."
"Yeah." I look down at my hands. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't—I know you probably want—"
"Stop." He catches my chin, makes me look at him. "Tell me what you want. Not what you think I want to hear. What do you actually want, Val?"
The question hangs between us. I take a breath, gather my courage.
"I want all of you," I admit in a rush. "I know that's selfish and complicated and probably impossible, but I can't imagine choosing.
Can't imagine losing any of you. It would hurt too much.
I'm in love with Zay and Asher too, and I—" I stop, waiting for him to pull away, to get angry, to tell me to leave.
But he doesn't.
He just studies my face with those dark, calculating eyes. "I'm not ready to share," he says finally. "Not... not emotionally. Not yet. This is new for me—the vulnerability, the admitting feelings part. I need time."
"I understand," I say quickly. "I'm not asking you to—"
"Let me finish." His thumb brushes my lower lip. "I'm not ready. But I also don't want to lose you. And I'm not stupid enough to think I can be everything you need, especially like this." He gestures vaguely at his legs.
"Your injuries have nothing to do with—"
"I know. That's not what I meant." He pulls me back down against him. "I meant that you need things I can't give you right now. Stability. Safety. Someone who can actually protect you instead of needing to be protected."
"That's not—"
"Val." He kisses me to stop the protest. "I'm trying to say that I understand. And I'm trying to tell you that I'm not going to make you choose. Not right now. Maybe not ever."
I pull back to look at him, not quite believing what I'm hearing. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I love you. And part of loving someone is wanting them to be happy, even if that means—" He stops, jaw clenching. "Even if that means sharing them with people who can give them things I can't."
"Xavier—"
"I'm not saying I like it," he continues. "I'm not saying it doesn't make me want to punch something. But I'm saying I'm willing to try. For you. Because losing you completely is worse than sharing you."
Tears prick my eyes. "You're not going to lose me. Any of you. I promise."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," he says quietly.
The words hit harder than they should because he's right. I'm keeping secrets that could destroy everything. Secrets about Marcus, about what I might have done, about the memories that won't stop haunting me.
But I can't tell him. Not yet. Not when we're finally getting to something real.
"I'm trying," I whisper instead. "I'm trying to be honest. To let you in."
"I know." He pulls me closer, kisses my forehead. "And I appreciate it. More than you know."
A knock on the door interrupts us. "Breakfast in ten," Zay's voice calls through the wood. "And it's actually edible for once, so get down here before Asher eats everything."
I laugh despite the emotional heaviness. "We should go down."
"In a minute." Xavier holds me tighter. "Just one more minute like this."
I settle against him, breathing in his scent—leather and smoke and something uniquely him. "Okay. One more minute."
But the minute stretches into five, into ten, neither of us wanting to break the bubble we've created. Finally, I force myself to sit up.
"Come on. Let's go before they send a search party."
Getting Xavier into his chair is a careful process we've perfected over the past weeks. I help him transfer, making sure not to jar his back too much. He's moving better than he was—stronger, more confident in his movements—but it's still slow.
By the time we make it to the front of the house, Zay and Asher are already at the kitchen table. There's actually food—real food, not just coffee and toast. Scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, fruit. Zay's gone all out.
"Look who finally decided to join us," Asher observes dryly. "Thought we'd have to eat everything ourselves."
"You wish," I reply, sliding into a chair. Xavier wheels up beside me, and I automatically reach over to squeeze his hand under the table.
Zay notices. Of course he notices. He sees everything. But he just smiles slightly and passes me a plate. "Eat. You barely touched anything yesterday."
"Yes, dad," I tease, but I take the plate and start loading it with food.
The atmosphere is surprisingly light considering yesterday's drama. Zay tells a story about one of the prospects doing something monumentally stupid at the compound. Asher adds dry commentary that makes us all laugh. Xavier relaxes incrementally, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
For a moment, it feels normal. Like we're just four people having breakfast together. Like we're not tangled up in club politics and secrets and complicated feelings.
I catch Zay watching me with that intense look he gets sometimes—like I'm the only thing in the room that matters. And when I glance at Asher, there's something softer in his usually cold eyes. Something that looks dangerously like affection.
My chest tightens with a complicated mix of emotions. Love and guilt and fear all twisted together.
"So," Zay says casually, but there's weight behind the word. "We gonna talk about the elephant in the room?"
"What elephant?" I ask, even though I know exactly what he means.
"The one where you're clearly involved with all of us and we're all pretending we don't notice," he says bluntly.
I choke on my orange juice. Xavier's hand tightens on mine under the table.
"Subtle," Asher mutters.
"Why be subtle?" Zay leans back in his chair, studying me. "We're all adults. We all have feelings for her. She clearly has feelings for all of us. Might as well address it instead of dancing around it."
"Zay—" I start.
"Am I wrong?" He raises an eyebrow. "Tell me I'm wrong and I'll drop it."
I can't. He's not wrong. "No. You're not wrong."
"Okay then." He looks at Xavier, then Asher. "So what are we doing about it?"
"That's what we were discussing upstairs," Xavier says quietly. "Before you so rudely interrupted with breakfast."
"And?" Asher asks, focused on Xavier.
Xavier's quiet for a moment, his jaw working. I can feel the tension radiating off him, the discomfort with this conversation. But he takes a breath and meets their eyes.
"And I'm not going to make her choose," he says finally. "I love her too much to force that."
The words hang in the air. Zay and Asher both go still.
"You love her," Zay repeats slowly.
"Yeah." Xavier's hand squeezes mine almost painfully. "I do. And I'm man enough to admit that I can't be everything she needs right now. Maybe ever. So if you two can—if she wants—" He stops, clearly struggling with the words.
"Xavier," I say softly, turning to look at him. "You don't have to—"
"Yes, I do." He finally looks at me, and there's vulnerability in his eyes that takes my breath away. "Because I'm not losing you. And if that means sharing, then—" He takes a breath. "Then I'll find a way to deal with it."
"I love you," I whisper, tears pricking my eyes again. "You know that, right?"
"I know." He brings my hand to his lips, kisses my knuckles. "I know, baby."
Zay clears his throat. "For what it's worth, I feel the same way. About her. About—" He gestures vaguely. "All of it."
"Me too," Asher adds quietly. "Though I'm significantly less comfortable discussing feelings at the breakfast table."
I laugh through the tears. "This is insane. We're all insane."
"Probably," Xavier agrees. "But we're insane together. That has to count for something."
"So what does this mean?" I ask, looking at each of them. "Practically speaking. What are we doing here?"
"We figure it out," Zay says simply. "Together. No rules, no pressure. Just—" He shrugs. "We see what happens."
"That's very zen of you," Asher observes.
"I have depths," Zay replies dryly.
"Apparently." But Asher's lips quirk slightly.
I look around the table at all of them—Xavier with his walls coming down, Zay with his intensity and understanding, Asher with his careful control starting to crack. And I realize that despite everything, despite the complications and the impossibility of it all, this feels right.
"Okay," I say. "We figure it out together."
Xavier pulls me closer, kisses my temple. "Together," he echoes.
And for the first time in weeks, the weight on my chest lifts slightly.
Not completely—I'm still carrying secrets that could destroy everything. Still haunted by memories I can't quite trust. Still terrified of what happens when the truth comes out.
But for now, in this moment, with the morning light streaming through the windows and the people I love surrounding me—
For now, I let myself believe it might be okay.