Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Malachy
Charlotte looks appalled when I let her know she can leave her new clothes in the bins in the laundry room, or hell, even in the pack bedroom. Like magic, they’ll appear washed, dried, and folded in the clean laundry baskets within a day or two.
“Or I could do it myself,” she mutters, bending over to pull the freshly washed laundry out of the washing machine.
“Far be it from me to stop you from doing whatever will make you happy.” I chuckle, tilting my head to appreciate the view of her ass.
Lucky squeals, and he’s loud enough that I can hear him from where he’s playing in the living room with Miriam and Seamus.
The door to the garage flies open, and I immediately slide forward, flattening my hand over Charlotte’s head. When she inevitably jumps from the sound of the door slamming against the wall, it pinches my arm, but at least she doesn’t whack her head against the top ring of the washer.
Cormac’s anxiety spills into the bond as he grows closer, and my metaphorical hackles rise.
Charlotte pops out of the washer, holding an armful of her new clothes, and she spins toward Cormac. “What’s wrong?”
That asshole is going to have to get better about not allowing his thoughts and feelings to be so easily picked up in the link.
He sighs, shaking his head. “We need to have a family meeting.”
Cormac paces in front of Patrick’s desk as we all wait for the latter to end his phone call.
Once he hangs up, Patrick stands and also begins pacing, except he stays behind his desk. “We need to be quick. Moretti is here. Well, he’s at the gate. I told them to send him through. It sounds important.”
Cormac freezes and spins back toward the room. “McCarthy talked. Not much, but he told me something that I don’t think I can keep to myself.”
Charlotte sits on my lap, facing me. At Cormac’s words, she buries her nose in my throat.
I run my hand down her spine and start to purr. “You know we can handle this without you,” I say, nuzzling my cheek to the top of her head. “If you want to leave it up to us, we’ll deal with it, and you never have to know or worry about it.”
Charlotte scoffs. “I’m nosy, and I’m a worrier. I’ve already mentally conjured every option and worst outcome for each of those possible things.”
“I get it,” I tell her, and I really do.
I would want to at least know what was happening and be around for the brainstorming conversation where we come up with a solution.
“Well, get on with it,” Patrick mutters.
“Blade is alive, and he knows that Charlotte is in Boston,” Cormac blurts out, pulling off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “He also knows about Lucky.”
“No way,” Charlotte hisses. “He was dead. Like seriously fucking dead.”
“He might have played dead,” Cormac says.
Patrick’s office door pops open, and Seamus steps inside, followed by Emory Moretti.
“The gate team said you wanted me to show him right to your office,” Seamus says, backing toward the door.
“Knocking would have been nice,” Patrick mutters.
The door closes after Seamus, and Moretti strides across the room, taking a seat in the other club chair.
“I’m telling you, I stabbed him like twenty times. There’s no way he’s alive. The gurgling sound alone…” Charlotte starts to shake in my arms, and I don’t have it in me to chastise her for speaking in front of Moretti. “He was done for.”
“All I can tell you is that McCarthy mentioned it took a year of healing before Blade was strong enough to start searching for you,” Cormac says softly. “He also said Blade would never be the same.”
“Huh,” Moretti says, making my skin crawl. “I wondered where the fourth guy ended up. I’m guessing he’s in that torture dungeon your father was so fond of.”
“Why are you here, Moretti?” Patrick growls, taking the words right out of my mouth.
“I was the last point of contact for the group of the Jacksonville Demons that were in Boston. You and Pierce weren’t the least bit discreet when you blew up that fucking hotel,” Moretti says, glancing at me and Charlotte. “Would you like to take her out of the room while we discuss business?”
“I’m staying,” Charlotte says, but it comes out muffled as she speaks against my skin.
Moretti cuts his eyes to Patrick.
My brother shrugs. “I’m not about to force her from the room.”
“That’s your call.” Moretti shakes his head. “I’ve been contacted by the Jacksonville Demons’ president. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I can confirm that Blade is alive, and he’s on the warpath.”
“Fucking great,” Patrick mutters. “Why give us a warning at all?”
Moretti chuckles. “For whatever reason, this Blade seems to think I owe him because his men made a bad deal with Pierce. I told them to walk away. I warned them no one wins when they go up against Grim. They made their own choices. I also let him know that I had no hand in the explosion at the motel. As such, I owe them nothing. I explained that if he would like to secure my services, I could give him a price.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and I wonder if Moretti is here to let us know that he sold us out.
“There was some back-and-forth.” Moretti shrugs. “He made threats. I got annoyed. Do you know the one thing I hate more than having to deal with all of you?”
I’m fairly sure he means the other Boston families when he says all of you.
“What?” Cormac asks.
“Being threatened,” Moretti says. “I really despise being told what to do.”
“Yeah, no one enjoys that,” Patrick says. “Can you get to the point?”
“He wants her.” Moretti nods at Charlotte. “And the kid.”
“That’s not fucking happening,” I growl, causing Charlotte to jolt.
“You know that. I know that.” Moretti chuckles. “He doesn’t know that. I’m here to warn you what’s coming. He and his men are already in town. They want to make the exchange tomorrow night. That gives us a bit of time to plan, but it’s less than I would like under the circumstances.”
“Us?” Cormac asks.
“I don’t stand for being threatened by anyone.
” Moretti stands. “I’m not sure if I’ll need your help with any of the details, but I’ll be in touch.
I’m going to set the meeting point at one of my warehouses to make it easier to facilitate the cleanup.
It seems only fair that the three of you should chip in on the massacre. ”
I exhale heavily.
Being aligned with him on anything doesn’t sit well with me.
Moretti nods to Charlotte. “She can come if she wants to make sure he stays dead this time, but you’ll need a team of men you trust to watch the boy. I might be a monster, but I draw the line at traumatizing children.”
Charlotte hyperventilates as soon as Moretti leaves the room. “I need to see Lukas.” It comes out broken and breathy, and it makes my chest tight to hear her so miserable.
“Not while you’re upset,” I tell her, kissing the side of her head.
Cormac comes over, squatting beside the chair I’m seated in. “I’m sorry if I made the wrong call by telling you. I just didn’t want there to be any secrets between us that would hurt if they came out.”
“I appreciate that.” Her whole body trembles, and I can’t watch much more of this.
“I’m going to take her up to the nest.” I shove out of the chair and stride toward the door without waiting for confirmation.
She’s seen the nest several times, but we’ve never made it past the pack bed. Even that seems to be pushing the limits of how far Charlotte can be away from Lukas without panicking.
This is a special circumstance.
She needs a safe space that will soothe her instincts while she breaks down.
“I’ll check on Lucky,” Patrick says to Charlotte as I tug the door open. “We’ll stay with him.”
“See?” I stomp toward the stairs like a man on a mission. “They’ll be with him, and I’ll be with you. I know you’re worried about him, but he doesn’t need to see you when you’re this upset.”
It scares me more that she’s frozen and isn’t even crying. The bond is too chaotic to pick up much of anything from her thoughts, but she’s scared. That fear is causing a physical reaction.
The nest has a stale smell from going so long without being used, but I flick on the overhead fan and auxiliary lighting as we enter.
Charlotte hasn’t said a word, and I’m not sure anything I say would help right now. Mostly, I want her to know that she’s not alone. If she needs to have a breakdown, I’m here. I’ll hold her through it, and we can pick up the pieces afterward.
I skirt around the cushioned mattress that takes up the middle of the room.
It’s far too open for her to feel safe right now, but it’s a secondary space for the last few days of an omega’s heat.
We bypass that for the time being, and I take the steps up to the den-style nest. It’s a smaller, confined space with three walls and a thick curtain that can be pulled to cover the fourth.
Patrick had the space renovated a few years ago, but I believe the housekeepers have been in regularly to clean it, which is a good thing. None of us would have thought to do it.
I yank the curtain closed behind us, carrying Charlotte to the larger-than-king-size mattress.
There’s not much room on either side of the bed, and I end up stubbing my toe as I skirt around the edge.
The head of the bed has cabinets on either side, along with nightstands to hold supplies.
I want to be able to lie Charlotte down with her head on the pillows, but I lean over the mattress, placing her closer to the middle so there will be room for my big ass on the edge.
She rolls away from me, pulling her knees to her chest, and I swear my heart physically aches. Grabbing the remote off the nightstand, I adjust the lighting.
There are a bunch of different ambient noise settings that are supposed to soothe omegas, and I settle for the first one that sounds like wind and rain. Dropping the remote, I climb onto the mattress behind her, wrapping my arm around her middle.
“Wanna talk about it, or should I shut up and hold you?” I ask, nuzzling my cheek to hers from behind. She’s quiet for a while, and I slide my hand under her shirt, caressing her stomach. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what you need.”
“I believe you.” Her head bobs up and down. “And I appreciate it.” She’s either numb or she’s blocking her emotions in the bond.
I don’t like the thought of either, but there are some things you have to fight through on your own before you’re ready to talk about them.
If you’re me, you never bring them up again, but Charlotte is much softer than I am.
She also wasn’t raised with three fathers who saw emotional vulnerability as weakness.
“He was supposed to be dead,” she whispers. “I wanted him to be dead. I think I should be relieved that he’s alive because that means I don’t have killing someone on my conscience, but I just don’t feel that way.”
“You’re allowed to feel however you feel,” I assure her. “I’m not going to judge you. You could give me a list of names of people you want dead because they looked at you wrong, and I’d kill them without question. Just know, he won’t make it out of the meeting tomorrow night.”
Charlotte sighs, and I pull the hair back from her face, brushing my lips over her cheek. The bond is a mess, but I focus on sending steady comfort and reassurance through the connection.
“He’s going to say things about me. Most of them are probably true, and I hate that. He won’t even have to lie to completely change how the three of you see me.”
“Never, little one,” I say, praying she can feel the truth in my words. “We all have a past. Not one of us would judge you for doing what you had to do to survive.”
“Yeah,” she says softly. “I think I just hate remembering who I was when I was with him. All the things I let myself be put through…”
“You survived it,” I murmur, holding her even tighter. “It might have been ugly, and you might not like what you had to do, but that got you to who you are today. Don’t let anyone make you feel an ounce of shame about keeping yourself alive. You never apologize to anyone for being a survivor.”
She rolls over in my hold, and I pull my hand from under her shirt to make it easier. Once again, she pulls her knees up, putting her in the fetal position.
I hate that she seems to be trying to make herself smaller. Or maybe she’s subconsciously put a barrier between herself and anything that could hurt her.
She looks up at me from under her lashes and says, “I wish I could see myself the way you do.”
“You will one day.” I bring my hand to cradle her cheek. “You kept yourself and Lucky safe, and you did a damn good job. You were so brave, but you’ve got us now.”
Her eyes shut, and she lets out a shaky breath. “You mean so much to me, Mal. I need you to know that.”
“I do.” I run my thumb over her jaw and nod. “You mean the world to me too, little one.”
The Jacksonville Demons aren’t ready for the level of hell that my family is about to unleash on them. I made a promise to Charlotte when I said she would be safe with us, and I goddamn keep my word.