Chapter 2 #2
Wesley grunts before locking his eyes with mine. “So, what did Candace want?”
“She’s not sure,” Gage says without missing a beat.
“But it is definitely something,” Logan says with his brows knitting together in that determined way that makes him look lethally handsome. “It always is with your mother.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I say, blowing out a breath. “Honestly, not much was said. I found her verbally going at it with Demetri—”
“Now there’s a shocker,” Wes muses. Suffice it to say, we’re all caught up to date with their celestial shenanigans.
I nod. “And when I approached the unhappy couple, he conveniently remembered he had somewhere to be.” I envision the scene for a moment while tracing the rim of my glass.
“I asked what the problem was, and Candace said we don’t have problems, we have solutions.
” I make air quotes when I say that last word.
“Which in Candace-speak usually means I’m screwed. ”
Both Laken and Wes let out a hearty groan because we all know my problems have a way of becoming their problems, too. And the body count on our end usually rivals my mother’s.
“Do not trust her.” Wesley’s knuckles tighten around his glass, and suddenly, I’m fearing for my stemware.
“I’m sorry, but I had a bad feeling about tonight,” Laken says, her free hand instinctively moving to cup Cooper’s head as if protecting him from an incoming storm, and she most likely is.
“And after witnessing that heated exchange between your mother and Demetri, well, it was a bit terrifying to say the least. I mean, I know my hormones are still surging, but something didn’t sit right with me.
Skyla, whatever her so-called solutions are, promise me you’ll be careful. ”
“Of course.” The words speed out of me so fast they sounded believable enough.
But I think we all know that when my mother is involved, any good intentions I might have are usually tossed out the window.
And for the record, I come by those inevitable errors of judgment honestly. She can be just that convincing.
“You’re preaching to the choir,” Logan tells them. “If we’ve learned anything at all, it’s proceed with caution. We don’t take our next breath without thinking twice around that woman.”
Gage nods. “The woman has a death wish for me. So, my next breath isn’t guaranteed,” he says with a blink of a grin. “I don’t turn my back to her when she’s in the vicinity.”
“True as gospel,” I’m quick to agree. “Caution and a backup plan,” I add. “And a backup for the backup. And well, don’t turn your back to the woman—or leave her alone in a room with Gage.”
“But,” Gage frowns at the blackened window, “we’ve dealt with plenty of Candace’s solutions before, and we’re still standing.”
“Barely,” Wes grunts. He pauses long enough to knock back his drink.
“Look, I don’t mean to be the prophet of doom here, but we’ve finally reached a good place.
And I mean all of us.” His eyes sweep across the pictures on the wall, lingering on the ones with all of our children together at the last faction picnic. “I just don’t want to lose it.”
A moment of silence clots up the air because we’re all well aware that we’ve lost too much already—not to mention how much we’ve sacrificed. Cooper’s absence still feels like a physical entity, a void that follows Laken and Wes around despite their happiness together.
“Don’t worry. We won’t lose anything,” I say with far more conviction than I feel. “Whatever Candace is planning, I’m sure we’ve faced worse.” I hope.
“Have we, though?” Laken lifts a brow my way. “Because every time we think we’ve seen the worst, something proves us wrong.”
A groan evicts from me. “Did you have to point out the obvious?” I say, but I’m only half-teasing. “The universe is listening, and it loves a challenge.”
“Sorry.” A short-lived laugh bumps through her. “I didn’t mean to jinx us.”
Cooper stirs, letting out those warning noises babies make right before they go nuclear. And just like that, the party’s over.
“That’s our cue,” Wes says, setting down his glass and standing. “Thanks for rescuing the diaper mothership.” He helps Laken up as she does her best to adjust Cooper’s carrier.
“And sorry to drop in with all the doom and gloom,” she says, pulling me in for a hug. “Next time we’ll bring cinnamon rolls and denial instead.”
“That’s my favorite combination,” I say as we walk them to the door.
Hugs and goodbyes are exchanged, and promises to talk tomorrow. The door closes, and I take a moment to lean against it as the weight of the night settles over me like a lead coat.
“They’re not wrong,” Logan says, collecting our glasses. “Just when we think it can’t get worse, your mother says hold my celestial beer.”
“I wouldn’t let Demetri off the hook so easily,” Gage says as he pulls me close.
“Whenever you talk to your mother next, know this, you are walking on broken glass, Skyla. Do not run into whatever rabbit hole she’s ready to shove you into next.
” He glances over his shoulder in time to see Logan disappear into the kitchen and drops a kiss to the top of my head.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him in a whisper, wrapping my arms around him. “We’ve come too far to let Candace, Demetri, or anyone else destroy what we’ve built. Whatever it is, it cannot unravel a single thing. I promise.”
His dimples press in deep, and he hypnotizes me with those cobalt eyes of his for a moment.
His hand finds mine, and it gives it a squeeze, then a kiss to my fingers in a gesture so familiar it almost hurts. “Get some sleep, Skyla. Whatever storm is coming, we’ll face it a little better with some rest.”
I nod, squeezing his hand right back before letting go. “Goodnight.”
Gage takes off to join the kids upstairs, and I sigh, looking at the wall of photos—our visual timeline of battles won and peace earned, dozens of them blanketing the wall that leads up to the second level.
My fingers trace a frame holding a picture of Eden, her golden curls catching sunlight as she laughs on the beach. Next to it, Jaxson’s first steps, Nathan and Barron’s matching grins on their birthday. Treasures, all of them.
A cold feeling settles in my stomach, heavy as stone. Whatever game Candace is playing, whatever solutions she thinks we need—deep inside, I know they threaten this. I glance up at the wall of memories once again. They threaten all of us.
I make my way to the window and look out at the blackened sky, the shimmering, gray Pacific, the luminescent waves that glow a pale blue.
Logan comes and wraps his arms around me from behind, and we watch the night shifting as the fog rolls in, the beauty of it almost distracts from the dread pooling inside me.
Almost.
Because something is coming.
I can feel it in my creaky bones, in that supernatural sense that’s kept me alive through the faction war and every single celestial intervention that has ever happened to me.
Whatever is going on with my mother and Demetri, it’s bad enough to make my mother’s anger toward him seem justified, which is perhaps the most terrifying thought of all.
When Candace and Demetri agree on anything—even mutual fury—worlds collide. And the rest of us are just collateral damage waiting to happen.
It’s happened before.
And something tells me, it’s happening again.