25. Riley
25
RILEY
R oyce frowns at the sat-nav as he punches in Dax’s address. “I recognize this street,” he mutters.
“Well, yeah,” Logan states in a droll tone. “Because it’s two fucking minutes away?—”
Royce shakes his head, cutting him off even as he starts the engine and pulls the car onto the road. “It’s not that.”
He’s still obsessing about it when we pull to a stop outside the apartment building.
“Is this it?” I question, peering out the window at the red-brick building. There’s nothing untoward about it, nothing that particularly stands out. It’s a building like any other in Halston. There are lights on inside, illuminating various apartments, giving them a warm glow and a soft ambiance. Is this really where Bertram has been keeping my daughter?
According to Dax, Bertram and David have both been making frequent visits to this address. It doesn’t necessarily mean my daughter’s here, but it’s something. Something’s happening here.
Royce smacks his hand against the steering wheel, and I’m guessing the pieces have finally slotted together for him. “I knew it! This was the fucking address from Bertram’s computer—from the night we snuck into his house while you and Gray were at that restaurant with them.” He shakes his head, face twisted in anguish. “I’d dismissed it, assuming he was just stopping at a shop or to grab a coffee.”
He looks so put out, so frustrated as he beats himself up, that I lean forward from the back seat to squeeze his shoulder.
“Don’t do that. This is not on you. Until the other day, we didn’t even know he had Aurora, so why would we ever think…? Even Blue didn’t suspect anything, and he must have seen Bertram make other stops here. We’re in the middle of a town,” I plead with him. “Please don’t take this on. Let’s just go inside and see what’s in there.”
He sighs but nods. We all climb out of the car, and I follow the rest as they head inside. We enter a simple but functional lobby. Grayson heads straight to the wall of mailboxes, the rest of us lining up beside him, forming an impenetrable wall as we scan each box.
“I don’t recognize any of the names,” Royce growls.
“Same,” Logan agrees.
Neither do I. What the hell do we do now?
“That son of a bitch,” Grayson snarls so loud that I jump. Whirling, he marches toward the stairs, cursing up a storm. I dart after him, the others following.
“What is it?” I demand.
“David,” he hisses viciously. “Apartment 8 is under his fucking lackey’s name. Took me a moment to piece together his last name.”
My eyebrows hitch, and a flicker of hope ignites in my chest. After everything I’ve been through, everything we’ve been through, is it going to be this simple? We’ll just storm in, Aurora will be there, and we’ll take her home.
As one, we hurry up the stairs, following Grayson down a bland hallway until he reaches what must be Bertram’s apartment. He glares at the door like it personally offended him before stepping back. Lifting his leg, he drives his foot into the wood above the handle. It splinters, the door flying inward and embedding itself in the opposite wall.
The four of us surge forward, spreading out as we search the sparsely furnished apartment. A figure appears at the end of the hallway, and I go still, my eyes raking over him. I don’t recognize him—I don’t know who he is—but Grayson clearly does.
“You disgusting piece of shit,” Grayson snarls, stomping toward the guy and fisting the front of his top. “Where is she? Where the fuck is Aurora?!” He drags him away from the hallway, and that’s when I realize Royce has a gun pointed at his head.
I didn’t even realize he was carrying.
“Is there anyone else here?” he demands in an icy-cold voice that matches the brutal savagery in his eyes.
The guy stutters out a quick no, and I waste no time. I take off, shouting, “Aurora? Aurora, sweetie, are you here? It’s Mommy!” I race down the hallway, throwing open closed doors, until I stall in the doorway of the last room.
My heart leaps into my chest. My legs go weak. I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing. Is this real? A strangled sort of noise escapes my lips, and I bring my hand up to cover my mouth, not wanting to wake her. With quiet steps, I creep into the room, not so much as daring to blink in case the sight before me vanishes.
There, tucked into a bed beneath pale pink covers, is my little girl. My pride and joy. The entire reason for my being. I don’t even realize I’m crying until tears hit the back of my hand. I fall to my knees at her bedside and reach out a trembling hand but stop inches away from her head, too scared to touch her in case none of this is real—in case it’s some figment of my imagination, another dream. I don’t think I could handle that.
Finally, slowly, I let my fingers brush her hair. Air rushes past my dry lips as my fingers stroke the soft strands. “It’s you,” I cry, sobbing quietly. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”
She shifts beneath the covers, rolling over and making all my dreams come true as her sleepy eyes crack open. She blinks at me for a moment, as if equally unsure whether what she’s seeing is real. Her voice is laden with sleep as she croaks, “Mommy?”
“Hi, baby.” Despite my sniffles, my voice is soft and reassuring.
“Mommy, you’re here.”
“Yeah, baby. Mommy’s here.” She shuffles right to the end of the bed, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing with all her strength.
“Mommy, can we go home now?”
I half-laugh, half-cry, my emotions a messy, indecipherable whirlpool. “Yeah, baby. We’re gonna go home now.”
Grabbing a blanket from the end of her bed, I wrap it around her before hauling her into my arms. Some hollowed-out part of me comes back to life at feeling her beating heart against my chest. Her breath on my neck. The weight of her in my arms.
I might never let her go again.
I do a quick sweep of the room, noting the couple of toys and books and scattered clothing. I have no intention of taking any of it with us. Everything else in the room can burn for all I care.
“Keep your head down and eyes closed,” I whisper to her before leaving the room. I have no idea what to expect when we reach the living room. I haven’t heard any sounds of fighting or a struggle, but just in case, I don’t want her to see anything she shouldn’t.
Logan’s at my side the second I re-enter the living room, hands clasped to the back of Aurora’s head. I keep my gaze focused on the door, not daring to glance toward where Grayson and Royce stand over David, who’s now sitting on the sofa, pale and sweaty.
“Come on, Shortcake,” Logan encourages, one hand at my back and the other protectively on Aurora as he escorts us from the apartment. “I’ll take you home and come back for those two.”
Once we’re in the hallway and I’ve lifted my hand from Aurora’s head, he coos at her. “Hello, sweetheart. Long time no see. Tell me this: is pink still the best color?” I could kiss him right there for bringing a heartbreaking smile to my little girl’s face.
“Duh,” she says in a voice that assures me everything will be okay. “Pink’s always the best.”
The way Logan smiles at her, the sparkle in his eyes, it’s clear he’s already head over heels in love with my little girl. “Truer words have never been spoken,” he agrees.
I wait until she is settled on my knee in the car before asking, “Are you okay, baby?” What I want to know is if either of them touched her. Hurt her in any way, but I can’t be that direct.
She nods, her head resting against me and eyes droopy.
I give Logan a worried look, but he merely smiles reassuringly back at me, squeezing my knee before starting the car and driving us home.
“Home?” Aurora mumbles.
“Yeah, baby. We’re going home. You and I are going to climb into bed and sleep; how does that sound?”
She gives another tired nod, burying deeper into me. Her fist hasn’t let go of my top since I lifted her out of bed, and it messes me up to see how afraid she is that I’ll just disappear on her.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper into her ear. “I won’t ever leave you.” Tears burn in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
This is good . Regardless of everything else, I’m holding my daughter in my arms.
It’s surreal.
I’m still half expecting to wake up and find it was all a dream.
God, please don’t let me wake up.
“It’s real.” At the sound of Logan’s voice, I glance up, realizing I’ve been staring down at Aurora with a look of disbelief that mirrors my thoughts.
“It’s real.” My voice lacks Logan’s strength, the words shaky and uneven. I’m emotional and wrung out, running on adrenaline alone. Truthfully, I could climb into bed and sleep for a week straight. However, I don’t give a single shit about the fact I’ll be dog-tired when Aurora likely wakes me up in a couple of hours.
Logan helps me out of the car; Aurora is now asleep in my arms as I carry her into the house. I head straight upstairs to the bedroom Grayson put together for me so I’d have my own space in their house—somewhere to go if I wanted to be alone—and lay my daughter down in the center of the bed.
Standing over her sleeping form, my throat is tight. A warmth envelops my back before Logan’s strong arms wrap around me. “She looks so peaceful,” he murmurs, careful not to wake her.
“I don’t know how she can sleep like that,” I say aloud. “After everything…”
“Kids are resilient.” Isn’t that the truth. “And she appears unharmed. Maybe a little scared and lonely, but it doesn’t look like they did anything to her.” He’s got no idea just how much of a relief his words are to hear. I’d been telling myself the same thing, but I honestly couldn’t tell if it was just what I wanted to hear or the actual truth. “I think she was a means of getting to you. Otherwise, Bertram wasn’t interested in her.”
That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have done something if I’d continued to defy him, but I take great comfort from knowing she’s safely out of his reach now.
“You’re dead on your feet,” Logan murmurs, his lips brushing my temple. “Get into bed with her and sleep for a few hours.”
I glance up at him over my shoulder. “What about the others?”
“Don’t worry about them. They’ll get whatever info they need from David and do whatever they must to keep you both safe.”
I swallow but simply nod. I know Royce and Grayson won’t go easy on him, and perhaps I should feel bad about whatever they’ll do, but I just can’t bring myself to care. He might not have physically hurt my child, but he kept her from me. No human who has any inkling of the agony being involuntarily separated from your child causes would commit such a heinous act.
Frankly, he can burn in hell alongside Bertram for all I care.
So tired that I’m swaying on my feet, I simply nod. Logan helps me out of my clothes and into a T-shirt and boxers of his, and as though I’m a child myself, he lifts the covers and tucks me in as I curl my body around Auroras.
I’m out before he’s even left the room.
I’m woken sometime later to the hard press of a foot on my straining bladder. Despite my urgent need to pee, I smile before I even open my eyes because I know that foot. I know when I open my eyes, I will find my little girl in bed beside me.
It’s like waking from a dream—well, more like waking from a nightmare. Slowly, I peel my eyes open, finding the pillow beside me decorated with long, auburn-brown strands of hair not dissimilar to mine. My smile only grows, and for the first time in weeks, my heart is whole. I could lie here all day and watch her, but unfortunately, nature calls. So I slip silently from the bed and patter barefoot to the bathroom.
I hear the murmur of voices downstairs as I step back into the hall after relieving myself. It’s early—not long past dawn. I had expected them all to be asleep in their beds by now.
Curious, I creep down the stairs, following the sound of voices and the delicious smell of eggs and bacon into the kitchen. My smile turns into a full-blown grin as I stop in the doorway to admire the glorious sight that is Logan Astor wearing an apron and shaking his hips as he dances to non-existent music in front of the stove while turning bacon and flipping eggs like those strong, firm hands of his weren’t made for slapshots and breakaways.
Royce sits at the island. With a coffee in one hand, he’s deep in thought as he taps a pencil against the edge of the counter and frowns at whatever is in front of him. Grayson hovers over his shoulder, occasionally pointing at whatever they’re working on and mumbling too quietly for me to hear. There’s no hint on either of their faces as to what happened after I left that apartment last night. No signs at all that either of them is affected by whatever they did.
It eases the last remnants of tension that had been clinging to me.
“Shortcake!” Logan rejoices, catching sight of me in the doorway. Spatula in hand, he throws his arms in the air. “Where’s the little one?”
“She’s still passed out in bed.”
He nods. “She okay?”
I smile up at him. “She’s perfect.”
He grins back at me, agreeing, “That she is,” before his eyes slowly lower to rake over me. It’s not a heated or sensual perusal. More like he’s checking to make sure I’m okay.
Reaching out, I squeeze his hand. “I’m perfect, too.”
His expression turns saucy. “That you are, baby.”
Rolling my eyes, I point to where he left eggs cooking on the stove. “You’re going to burn that.”
His eyes go comically wide as he darts back to flip them, and smiling to myself, I saunter over to Royce and Grayson. “What’s this?” I ask, staring in confusion at the family calendar spread out on the kitchen island. It has been filled with each of our various class times, along with Logan’s hockey schedule, Royce’s fights, and Grayson’s work meetings.
“We’re putting together a schedule,” Logan explains as if it’s obvious, joining us as he pushes a cup of freshly brewed coffee into my hand.
“A schedule? For what?”
“So we can ensure one of us is always available to watch Aurora and do the daycare drop-offs and pick-ups.” Again, there’s that duh tone, and I’m not sure if I’m being particularly dense this morning or if these guys keep blowing through every expectation I have of them.
“She’s not in daycare,” I tell him because, apparently, that’s the best response I can come up with.
“Well, no, she doesn’t start for another two weeks. That’s the soonest I could get her booked in for, but we figured that worked well since we all agreed we weren’t happy letting her out of our sights until we decide what we’re doing with Bertram, and we’ve dealt with your mother.” He gives a flippant shrug of his shoulder. “Besides, between us, we can totally handle it for a couple of weeks.”
All I can do is blink stupidly at Logan. He’s talking gibberish, right? Please tell me I’m not the only one who didn’t understand a word of what he just said.
“I think you broke her brain,” Royce whispers.
“Logan,” I croak. “What are you talking about? Aurora isn’t enrolled in daycare. I can’t afford it.”
“Actually, she’s enrolled at Maplewood Preschool and Daycare.”
“What? When…”
“I called them this morning,” he explains, pushing a fresh mug of coffee into my hands before resting both of his on my shoulders and rubbing the tense muscles. This morning? My gaze flicks to the clock on the wall. It’s not long after seven in the morning. How the hell did he get talking to anyone on the phone this early? He bulldozes over me before I can ask. “She’s enrolled, and I’ve paid for her to attend for the rest of the year, so just say thank you and drink your coffee, okay? Let me do this for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” I step back out of his hold, flicking my gaze to Royce and Grayson before my focus returns to the schedule. “You don’t have to do any of this. I—we—are not your responsibility. You’ve already done enough.”
“Shortcake, we want to. Aurora is all yours, but that doesn’t mean you have to do this alone. We want to help.”
“That is, if you want our help,” Royce tacks on, drawing my attention his way, and immediately I know, if I say I don’t want their help, he’ll back off, and he’ll drag Logan with him, kicking and screaming if need be.
I mean, we hadn’t blatantly discussed what would happen once we got Aurora back. They’ve all, at one point or another, told me that they want to be involved in her life—to help out, to get to know her. But it’s one thing for them to say that and another to see them planning it out as if our lives are intertwined.
As if… As if we’re a family.
There’s a lump in my throat and tears sting my eyes. My heart is full of so much love that it feels like it’s about to explode. Still, I’m nervous. What if it’s too much for them? What if looking after a kid is more work than they anticipated? What if, one day, they feel like it’s too much? Like she’s not worth it? Like we’re not worth it?
“Whatever cynical thoughts are circling through that pretty little head of yours, stop it.” There’s an edge to Logan’s tone as he wags a finger in my face. “We’re here. We want to help, so let us.”
“Fucking hell, Logan, you made her cry,” Grayson snarls, smacking Logan in the arm none too gently when he sees my face.
“Shit. Fuck. I’m sorry, Shortcake. I didn’t mean to make you cry. We’ll do whatever you want. You want us to help, great, we’re here. You want us to leave you alone, fine, we’ll do that too.”
Sniffling, I swipe angrily at the tears, but they keep coming.
“I’m not crying,” I bite angrily, trying and failing to get the steady stream to stop.
“Uhh, yeah, Shortcake, you kinda—oh. Oohhh . Nooo, you’re not crying.” Logan pulls me in against his chest as Royce carefully takes the piping hot mug from my hand before I spill it. I go effortlessly into Logan’s embrace, burying my face in his t-shirt and inhaling deeply. God, how does he always smell so good? “Definitely not crying,” he continues, rubbing soothing circles on my back. “Those are allergy tears.”
“It’s only February,” I point out, the words muffled by his shirt.
He continues with his soothing circles. “Mhm. But we’re practically into March, and I hear the pollen is particularly potent this year.” Despite my overwhelming emotions, I find myself laughing into Logan’s t-shirt. I have no idea how he does that; he makes me laugh when I’m on the verge of crumbling.
“So what do you say?” Logan murmurs softly. “You gonna let us help you out, mama? They do say it takes a village. Let us be your village, Riley.”
With tears clinging to my eyelashes, my face buried in Logan’s top, I nod. “Okay, but only if you’re sure.” Pulling back, I stare up at him before turning to face Royce, then finally shifting my gaze to Grayson. “All of you—only if you’re sure.”
“We’re sure,” Royce states firmly, and Grayson nods.
“Fantastic.” Stepping back, Logan claps his hands. “Now that’s sorted, what is on the agenda for today? It’s our first day all together. I feel like we should do something special to commemorate.”
Shaking my head, I’m smiling as I finally take my first sip of coffee. “I need to take Aurora shopping. She has nothing here, but she needs clothes, food, and maybe diapers.” I bury my face in my hands, already feeling overwhelmed. “I don’t even know if she’s potty trained fully. She was nearly there when I left for Halston, but I dunno if Lydia continued to put in the work with her.”
“Take a deep breath, Shortcake.” Logan steps up behind me, his large hands kneading my shoulders until they relax. “There you go. Don’t worry about all that. We can go out with her today and get everything she needs. Anything we overlook can be gotten tomorrow or ordered online.”
“Plus, don’t forget we have her stuff from your mom’s,” Royce interjects.
“See!” Logan grins. “We essentially have everything already.”
I groan, my eyes closing as I remember, “I have a test this afternoon.” I’ll have to skip it. Which isn’t ideal, but it’s not like I’ve studied for it anyway. “I’ll email. Let the professor know I won’t be there.”
“You absolutely will not,” Logan states in a firm tone that sounds so at odds coming from him. “You’re already in trouble over your grades. Skipping a test will just give your advisor and Bertram the excuse they need to get you kicked out.”
“Logan,” I argue. “I haven’t even studied for it.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, looking absolutely ridiculous in his red apron and sweats. “Good thing you have all day to study then.” I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand. He’s strangely hot when he’s being all bossy and demanding, and a filthy shiver creeps down my spine. “ I’ll take Aurora shopping. Royce will stay home with you and?—”
“I need to go to the office to keep an eye on my dad,” Grayson interrupts.
My shoulders tense at the mention of his dad, and I worry on my bottom lip before asking, “That man… David… what did you?—”
“Don’t worry about that, Ry,” Royce says softly.
My gaze bounces between him and Grayson. “Is he…?”
“No,” Grayson confirms. He clearly doesn’t feel the same need to protect me from whatever they did as he continues, “We got the answers we needed from him before beating him to within an inch of his life, but we left him alive.”
My throat bobs as I swallow, my gaze anchored on Grayson. “But if he talks to your dad, then…”
He nods. “Yeah. My father will know that I know about Aurora. That I’m on your side.”
I suck in a breath. Letting his father realize that says more than words ever could about where Grayson’s loyalties lie.
“Was that the right move?” I ask hesitantly, trying to deduce the possible ramifications of that move. “What if your dad tries to get back at you through the company?”
“It’s not like he’s not already trying to get me ousted from the CEO position so he can reclaim it for himself. This way, David can let him know you’ve both got people on your side—people who won’t hesitate to do whatever is necessary to protect you both.”
He steps forward, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “My father thought you were isolated. Alone. He thought it would be easy to manipulate or coerce you under his roof. We’ve just proven to him that it won’t be.”
I… have no words. What Grayson just did. Everything he’s been doing recently to be there for me… he’s stepped up in a way I never expected, and it leaves me speechless.
“Oh, we also have a surprise for you, Shortcake.”
“A surprise?” I choke out.
Logan grins cheekily, and even Royce has a smug little smirk.
“You gotta wait until tonight for it, though,” he teases.
I open my mouth to say something—perhaps that they don’t need to get me anything. However, before I can say anything, a tentative voice breaks through the silence, and god, if it isn’t the best sound I’ve ever heard. “Mommy?”
Spinning, I find Aurora standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking adorable with her hair all over the place as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.
I smile brightly at her, crouching as she races into my arms. Standing, I spin in a circle, making her giggle. The sound is infectious, infusing the kitchen with a warmth I hadn’t even noticed was missing.
When I’m dizzy, I squeeze her to me. I know I spent all night cuddling up against her, but I can’t get enough. If I thought she’d let me get away with it, I’d strap her to my chest like I did when she was a baby and carry her everywhere with me. I’d never let her out of my sight. “Morning, sweetie.”
She peeks over my shoulder at the three silent statues, watching us with equal expressions of awe and nerves. Logan is the only one who doesn’t appear uneasy. He’s like an excitable puppy, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and I can tell he’s just waiting for Aurora to feel at ease before he scoops her out of my arms.
“Baby, you remember my friends?” I point first at Logan. “This is Logan.” Next, I gesture to Royce. “And this is Royce.”
“I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you in person, sweetheart,” he says, and I’m momentarily caught off guard. What happened to the one-word grump I first bumped into on campus?
Smothering a smile, I shift so she can see Grayson. I don’t think he’s blinked once since Aurora entered the kitchen. He stares at her the same way I imagine I did last night—like he can’t believe she’s real.
I kiss the top of her head. “Sweetheart, this is Grayson.” I want to say more. To tell her he’s her brother, but she’s already been through enough change. Now isn’t the time. Biting on his lip, Grayson gives her a soft smile.
“It’s nice to meet you, Aurora.”
She stares at him with wide eyes, nerves keeping her quiet until Logan jumps in. “What do you want for breakfast, Aurora? We’ve got pancakes, bacon, eggs. Or if you want all of the above, I can make you a pancake smiley face with bacon and eggs.”
A slow smile steadily grows across her face. “Smiley face,” she declares in a small voice.
Logan beams at her. “I knew you had good taste. That’s what I would have picked, too.” He points at Royce. “Mr. Grump over here never chooses the smiley face option.”
Aurora stares at Royce curiously as he glowers at Logan before realizing she’s watching, and that glare dissolves into a chagrined smile.
The guys plate up the food, and the five of us sit around the table. We keep the conversation light while we eat, the guys filling the silence with random chatter deliberately aimed to set Aurora at ease. Royce discusses an upcoming match of his. Grayson gripes about balancing work and his senior year course load while Logan discusses the team’s travel plans for their away games next weekend.
Aurora’s eyes bounce between them the entire time, drinking everything in, even if she doesn’t understand what they’re discussing.
Only when everyone is finished eating, and she’s had time to relax do they bring her into the conversation, and the topic switches to her favorite TV show, her gymnastics class, and something called a Sparkle Squirt—whatever that is.
Nursing my coffee, I watch the entire scene unfold with a serene smile.
It’s peaceful. Homey.
The sort of breakfast I could get used to having every morning for the rest of my life.
“You wanna come shopping with me today?” Logan asks while the others begin clearing away the plates.
Aurora’s eyes narrow on him from across the table, and she stares at him suspiciously. I’m fully expecting her to say no. Logan is so easy to get along with, but she’s barely spent any time with him.
“Can I get the new Princess Barbie?”
Logan chuckles. “You can get anything you want, Pumpkin.”
“Logan,” I groan as Aurora’s face lights up like Christmas morning. “You can’t say things like that to her.”
“Why not?” He pouts at me, and I’m not sure whether to roll my eyes or laugh.
“Because she’s three. She’ll pick out everything in the store.”
“So?”
Okay, now I do roll my eyes. “Logan, you can’t buy her everything in the store.”
With a smirk that makes me believe everything I just said went in one ear and out the other, he responds, “Whatever you say, mama.”