33. Thirty-Three
THIRTY-THREE
THEO
W renly pretended she was fine, but I saw her wincing in pain when she thought I wasn’t looking. Her stomach had healed nicely over the past few weeks, only a small scar left as a reminder of the bullet that had almost taken her away from me.
I spent my days watching over her and ensuring she had everything she needed. She’d had to take time off work to heal, and a feeling of guilt haunted me. It was my fault she had been shot, my fault she had been dragged into this mess.
But she never blamed me. She just smiled that beautiful smile of hers and told me she would do it all over again if it meant keeping me safe. Her loyalty and devotion never ceased to amaze me.
As the days turned into weeks, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was coming. Charles McKinley, Connor’s father, released a press statement about his son’s disappearance. He knew Connor was never coming home, but for obvious reasons, he would never be able to tell the public that The Brotherhood had killed his son. To do so would have meant admitting his ties to The Collectors and the Russian Spetsnaz that had infiltrated our home and murdered innocent people. And he cared more about his public reputation than the death of his legacy.
The same could have been said for Abel Benson, the leader of The Collectors. That corrupt motherfucker was another story entirely. He had lost more than just a son. He had lost his future. Haven lighting his only son on fire had dealt a crushing blow to his empire and The Collectors. I knew he was seething with rage. But he was a clever man, and he knew better than to show his hand too soon. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.
They may have been lying low for now, but we all knew they wouldn’t let the deaths of their sons go unanswered. They were powerful men with endless resources and a thirst for revenge that needed to be quenched.
Wrenly sat on the edge of the bed as she watched me pace the length of the room. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up,” she said softly, patting a spot beside her.
I sighed and went to her. “I can’t help it. I feel like we’re sitting ducks just waiting for them to strike.”
She took my hand, her touch soothing my frayed nerves. “We are fine. Nothing is going to happen without you knowing. If there’s a plan, you’ll find it before they can act.”
I sighed. “You’re right.”
“I always am. Now, can we please go downstairs and eat dinner with everyone? I’m starving.”
I nodded, pushing aside my worries for the moment. Hand in hand, we went down to the patio, where the others were already gathered around the table. We settled in next to Kai and Haven, Gage sitting on our other side. Haven smiled genuinely at Wrenly, and they engaged in small talk about the food. I grinned as I watched her converse with everyone, like she had always been a part of the family.
When she saw me staring at her, she leaned in. “What are you smiling at?”
I shook my head, still beaming at her. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you here with me, with all of us.”
She ducked her head, trying to hide her grin. “You’re such a sap,” she teased, but I could see the love shining in her eyes.
I ran my hand up her thigh, and she looked at me. Her cheeks flushed as she watched my hand move higher. We hadn’t been intimate since Connor had shot her, and I’d be lying if I said my dick wasn’t hard as a rock right now. When her eyes flicked to the bulge in my pants, she licked her lips subconsciously, and it took everything I had not to rip her clothes off and fuck her on the table for dessert.
Gage cleared his throat, breaking the tension between us. “You’re making me lose my appetite.”
I rolled my eyes and flipped him off, but he just chuckled and took a swig of his beer as Archer stood up.
Archer clinked his fork on his champagne glass. “We have an announcement to make.” He smiled down at Mila. Somehow, I already knew what he would say, and I grinned excitedly. “Mila and I are expecting!”
Everyone jumped up and congratulated them. Wrenly hugged Mila tightly, tears of joy shining in her eyes. “I’m so happy for you both.” Her voice was thick with emotion.
I clapped Archer on the back, pride swelling in my chest. “Congratulations, man. You’re going to be an amazing father.”
He grinned at me, his eyes full of excitement and a touch of nervousness, his hand resting protectively on Mila’s still-flat stomach. “Thanks, brother. I still can’t believe it.”
As everyone settled back into their seats, the conversation turned to baby names and nursery themes. Mila was glowing, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. I couldn’t help but imagine Wrenly with a rounded belly, carrying our child. The thought was new to me, but it filled me with a warmth I had never known before.
Under the table, Wrenly’s hand found mine, and she gave it a gentle squeeze. I looked at her and noticed her other hand resting on her stomach. When she caught me looking, she moved her hand quickly and cleared her throat.
“My stomach is sore tonight.” She gestured toward her scar.
I frowned, concern etched on my face. “Do you need to go lie down? I can bring up dessert.”
She shook her head, giving me a reassuring smile. “No, I’m fine. Just a little twinge. I don’t want to miss out on celebrating with everyone.”
I nodded but kept a watchful eye on her throughout the rest of the meal. As the night wore on, the excitement of Archer and Mila’s news kept the conversation lively and the drinks flowing. Wrenly seemed to relax, laughing and chatting with the others. But beneath the surface, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with her.
When the plates were cleared, Kai and Haven disappeared into the garden, and the conversation wound down. I stood and offered Wrenly my hand. “Ready to head up?”
She nodded, stifling a yawn as I helped her to her feet. We bid everyone good night and made our way upstairs, and I kept my arm wrapped protectively around her waist. Once inside our room, she sank onto the bed with a sigh, her hand again drifting to her stomach.
I knelt in front of her, my hands resting gently on her thighs. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She averted her gaze.
“Wren, what’s going on?” I pressed.
Silence.
“Wren!” I said, sharper than I’d intended.
Her eyes met mine. “I-I was just thinking about the Hunt.”
“ The Hunt ?” I echoed.
She nodded, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “I know you said the Hunt wasn’t anything to you, but Archer chose Mila, and Kai would have chosen Haven if they didn’t have to hide their relationship . . .”
I took a deep breath, trying to choose my words carefully. “Baby, the Hunt was never about love or finding a wife for me. It is a twisted tradition, a way for The Brotherhood to assert their power and control over women. What I feel for you is so much deeper than anything the Hunt could have ever given me.”
She searched my face. “But what if I’m not enough for you? What if you wake up one day and realize you settled for me because you couldn’t have your pick of the women in the Hunt?”
I cupped her face, my thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You are more than enough, baby. You’re everything I never knew I needed. I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.”
She leaned into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed. “I want to believe you, Theo. But to be honest, a part of me is scared I’ll never be able to compete with the legacy of the Hunt. ”
I pressed my forehead against hers, my voice low and fierce. “There is no competition. You’ve already won my heart, completely and irrevocably. The Hunt, The Brotherhood, none of it matters anymore. You’re my future, Wren.” She let out a shaky breath, her hands coming up to rest on my chest. “You know just as well as I do you will always belong to The Brotherhood. It’s in your blood.”
“I-I just don’t know if that’s true.”
I felt anger bubbling up in my chest. It was almost laughable when her goddamn father had been the leader of the whole organization before he’d been killed. I leaned back, my hands dropping from her face as I tried to process her words. I stood abruptly, pacing the room as I ran a hand through my hair in frustration.
“Theo, please say something,” she pleaded.
“I need a moment,” I responded.
I stepped onto the balcony, the cool night air hitting my face as I tried to calm the storm raging inside me. Her words echoed in my mind, each one like a dagger to my heart. How could she not see that she was already a part of The Brotherhood, whether she liked it or not? Her father’s legacy ran through her veins, just as my dad’s did mine. I gripped the railing tightly, my knuckles turning white as I stared at the grounds. The Brotherhood was her birthright.
Turning, I walked back through the room and out the bedroom door, my mind reeling from her words. I found myself in the garden, the cool night air doing little to calm my racing thoughts. I sat on a bench, my head in my hands as I tried to understand it all.
The sound of footsteps made me look up, and I saw Kai approaching. He sat down beside me and offered me a cigarette. I took it gratefully, lit it, and took a deep drag.
“You look like you could use a drink too,” he said, pulling a flask from his pocket and handing it to me.
I took a swig, the whiskey burning my throat. “Wren just told me she doesn’t think The Brotherhood is in her blood,” I scoffed.
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bold statement coming from the daughter of the former leader.”
I nodded, taking another drag. “I don’t understand it.”
He was silent for a moment, considering my words. “Maybe it’s not about denying who she is, but about fighting for her place in the world, just like the rest of us.”
He was right, of course. “Goddamn, Kai. When did you get so smart?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Probably around the same time I fell in love with Haven. That woman has a way of putting things into perspective.”
I sighed, rubbing my face wearily. “I just want Wren to understand that she belongs here with me, with us. That to be with me means accepting that The Brotherhood is a part of her.”
“Then show her.”
I stood up, crushing the cigarette beneath my boot. “I have an idea, and I need your help.”
“I’m listening . . .”