Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
THORNE
“Is it done?” I ask Orion as I rest my phone between my shoulder and ear.
“Yeah. Easy job.”
“Where did you leave him?”
“The Glades,” he says in his deadpan way. “But not too far in. Someone hunting will come across him soon.”
Good. Over the past few days, Warren has been stressing about his sister, wondering if he has to go down and handle business.
But now that I’m in his life, he doesn’t have to worry about that anymore.
I’ll take care of anyone bothering him, his family, or Chance and his family. They’re mine to take care of now.
“Thanks,” I say distractedly as I move around the kitchen. Cooking dinner for my men fills me with a familiar feeling. One I got when I cooked for my sister and she sat on the counter, acting as my sous chef.
I have to push that thought away or it’ll cripple me.
Right now, I want to live in the moment, cooking for Chance and Warren and watching them enjoy the meal.
Delving into my past will only paralyze me and I don’t want them to see me like that.
They’ll only ask questions I’m not ready to answer yet.
Orion makes a distracted noise of his own. “Yeah, sure. I’m almost into this hard drive. Sick fuckers had mountains of terabytes sharing images, but no names, no addresses of people that aren’t already in the ground. I’m working through it all as fast as I can, but it’s not a quick process.”
Out of all of us, only Orion can handle seeing those kinds of images. He doesn’t feel anything, so it doesn’t hurt him as much. Knox and I tried and I went on a killing spree that Bensotti had trouble covering up.
I’m not sure he’s entirely unaffected though. He’s already quiet and sullen, but after seeing so many images that depict abuse, he’s retreating into himself more.
“Don’t take on too much,” I warn.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll call in my favor at some point.”
Orion hangs up and I scoff and toss my phone down so I can finish dinner.
I’m just sliding the pan into the oven when my phone rings.
Bensotti.
“Hey, B,” I say as I put him on speaker and pad into my room to change into something that’s not covered in food.
“Thorne.” His voice is clipped as always. He doesn’t sound any worse for wear, so hopefully he’s taking care of himself and getting treatment. “Got a call from Orion.”
“I just spoke to him. He says he’s close to cracking that drive.”
Bensotti grunts. “Close as in maybe four to five weeks away. There are a few people I need taken care of in the meantime. Knox can help with people in your area.”
“Yeah, that works.” I pause, knowing he might not tell me, but needing to know anyway. “How’s chemo?”
He’s quiet for a few beats, then he lets out a long sigh as if giving up. “It’s hell if I’m being honest with ya. I’m tired all the time and can’t keep food down. But I’m makin’ it.”
I’m halfway pulling my shirt on when I freeze, then slump on my bed.
It must be bad if he’s telling me anything.
One thing I’ve learned about B over the years is that he never shows any vulnerability.
With a crew like us, he never wanted to show that side of himself, probably assuming we’d think he was weak.
He got shot while on duty two years ago and told us he was fine, only for us to find out the bullet hit him in the arm, and he couldn’t move it properly for weeks.
Grabbing my phone, I take him off speaker and place it to my ear. “I can come take care of you. I can ask to switch to online classes and—”
“No,” he grumbles. “I’m fine. Get off my back. This is why I don’t have kids.”
I smirk since he basically adopted the four of us. Sure, the initial idea was to use us to get back at the people that slip through the cracks, but I know over the years, he’s grown to love us.
Even though he’s a stubborn son of a bitch, I still push. “If you need me, I can be there in less than three hours.”
“Yeah, but I don’t. I just wanted to give ya news but seems like O beat me to it.”
“I’ll come check on you soon.”
“Leave me alone,” he grumbles before hanging up.
Sighing, I flop back on my bed to stare at the ceiling.
Bensotti has been the only real father I’ve had in a while.
When I was fourteen, my father—who wasn’t much to begin with—left one day and never came back.
I’m not sure if he’s dead or alive. I had to figure out how to take care of me and my ten-year-old sister, as well as keeping it quiet that we had no adult supervision.
I did what I had to do—selling drugs, stealing, even tutoring—to make ends meet until I could find a stable job that could keep us afloat. I took care of her and kept her safe.
Until I couldn’t.
My doorbell rings, keeping me from sliding down that rabbit hole.
I fight to pull my shirt over my head as I pad to the door, my collar snagging on my lip piercing. I hiss as I pull it down and straighten myself up before answering the door.
Chance is there, a warm smile on his face and his hands full of bags.
“What’s all this?” I ask as I let him brush past me.
“I brought ingredients for cookies.” He beelines toward my kitchen as if he’s been here before. “I saw a recipe on social media I wanna try.”
I follow behind him, leaning against the jamb as I watch him unpack the bags and look through my cabinets. “You have most of the stuff I need, but I forgot to ask.”
When the bags are unloaded, he turns around and smiles widely at me. “Hey, Thorne.”
Grinning, I crook a finger, beckoning him to me. “Hey, Golden.” I snake my arm around his waist and pull him closer. My lips land on his and I steal a rough kiss. His hands grip me hard as I twirl my tongue in his mouth.
Before I can take more from him, my doorbell rings again.
Chance’s smile brightens as he rushes past me to open it.
Warren trails behind Chance, looking around at my place. “I didn’t expect this,” Warren says, his eyes landing on my paintings. “Your place is really nice.”
I shoot him a wry grin. “What? You thought I’d live in a hovel?”
His eyes widen and a blush colors his freckled cheeks. “No! Just…you’re a college student. I expected…well…”
“A frat house,” Chance fills in.
“Something like that.” Warren fiddles with his fingers, an apologetic smile on his face.
I can understand his assumption, though I’d like to think I don’t fit into the mold of a typical college student.
My place is small, but it’s neat and I take pride in it. A few of the sketches Knox made for me adorn my walls, the colors popping against my black furniture. My fireplace is unused, but I have a nice shag rug that I’d like to lay my men in front of.
Everything is monochromatic, just how I like it.
We all sit in the living room while dinner is in the oven.
Chance rubs his belly. “Is it baked spaghetti again?” He asked me earlier, but he probably thought I’d change my mind.
I bark a laugh. “No. Lasagna.”
Warren smiles as he sits on the floor his head against my knee. “You like your pasta.”
“It’s one of the first things I learned to cook. And the ingredients are cheap. That was important when I was a kid.”
I swallow roughly, thinking about the times I had to steal ground beef, noodles, and spaghetti sauce so my sister and I didn’t go hungry. We’d eat pasta until we were sick of it, but it kept us going until I could do better.
“The first thing I learned to cook was spaghetti,” Chance says with pride. “I almost burned our kitchen down, but I felt accomplished. Now I bake.”
Warren looks over at him, eyebrows raised. “You can bake?”
Chance boops him on the nose, making me smile and Warren scowl. “Yep. And I’m pretty good at it. We’re making cookies after dinner.”
“We are?” Warren asks, looking up at me.
“Guess so,” I reply with a shrug.
I thread my fingers through Warren’s hair as I look over at Chance, who is sitting at the end of my couch. His face is twisted in a scowl as he rolls his shoulder, digging his fingers into the muscles hard.
“What’s up with you?” I ask and his head snaps up. He drops his hand, looking guilty like I caught him doing something he shouldn’t have. “How long has your shoulder been giving you issues?”
He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s not bothering me.”
Crawling onto his lap, Warren tugs his arms until they’re wrapped around him. “We’re just worried. Don’t be upset.”
Chance is putty in Warren’s hands, melting as those green eyes land on him.
“I’m not mad. Not really. Thorne is too fucking perceptive.
” He shoots me a glare that holds no heat.
Sighing, he says, “I think I tweaked it sometime during the summer. We have an endless pool and the effort it takes to swim against that current is immense sometimes. It’ll be okay, though.
I’ll just have to slow down during practice. ”
“Sit on the floor,” Warren says, climbing off Chance’s lap. He does and Warren starts to rub the area he was pressing his fingers into. Chance sighs and rolls his head forward on his spine. “Does that hurt?”
“A little,” he rasps, “but not in a bad way.”
The timer for my lasagna goes off, and I hurry to the kitchen, removing the pan from the oven. I then slide in the garlic bread.
By the time I have plates out and the table set, the bread is ready and the lasagna has cooled down some.
I plate our food and bring it to the living room coffee table so we can eat.
Chance hums his appreciation as he digs in, scarfing the food down like only an athlete can.
“You get any more notes on your door?” I ask Warren.
He shakes his head, swallowing the food in his mouth. “Nothing. I get notifications from the app, but it’s just people passing by. I think whoever it was saw the camera and decided it wasn’t worth it.”
I hope that’s the case. If not, I don’t mind putting someone else down for him.
“Where are you from, Thorne?” Chance asks. “We don’t know much about you.”
“There’s not much to tell. I’m from New York. Born and bred. A city outside of New York city called River Ridge.”
“You don’t have an accent,” Warren comments.
“I used to. But I did some traveling around and learned to adopt a more Northern accent than strictly New York. Helped me blend in here.” I wink at Chance, whose cheeks turn pink.
“Any plans to move back after college?” Warren asks.
My stomach turns sour. Warren couldn’t know—neither of them could know—that I can’t go back there.
My appetite gone, I set my fork down, my food tasting like sawdust as I swallow. “No. I’ll never go back to that city again.”
“Why not?” Chance asks around a mouthful of garlic bread. The sight makes a smile tick up my lips, but it drops almost immediately.
“It’s where my sister was murdered.”
The room is quiet, save for Warren’s sharp gasp. I know that news hits him harder because he has a sibling of his own. My sister wasn’t my twin, but we were close. Almost attached at the hip, even though she was four years younger than me. I raised her practically from birth until she left me.
Warren places a soft hand over mine. “I’m sorry. Your parents? Are they…”
“Don’t know. My mother left my dad after my sister was born and my dad took off right after I turned fourteen.”
“Jesus,” Chance whispers. “I’m sorry man.”
I shrug, shaking myself. “It’s all good.”
The air hangs heavy, awkwardness and a touch of melancholy lingering around us. I never tell anyone about Summer.
I’m not sure I’m ready to tell Chance and Warren about her yet. I want to keep her for myself for just a little while longer.
After a few beats, Chance slides closer and slings his arm around my shoulder. “You know what will make you feel better?” He turns my face toward him and kisses me softly.
“You tryin’ to ride my dick, Golden?” I ask, nipping at his bottom lip.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “No. I was thinking we can bake those cookies. Cookies make everything better.”
A soft smile crosses my face and I nod. When I was younger and had extra money, Summer and I would buy some of those pre-made cookie dough rolls and gorge until we were about to burst. But one time, we made them from scratch. There was flour everywhere, but the cookies were delicious.
“Yeah, okay. Let’s make some cookies, Golden.”
He helps me up off the floor, then drags Warren to his feet.
Warren rubs Chance’s abs, a faint blush on his cheeks. “Should you be eating cookies?”
“Fuck yes, I should,” he says happily, kissing Warren on the top of the head. “Cookies make me swim faster.”
Warren giggles. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see during your next meet.”
Chance’s face falls. “Next meet is away. Some school in Virginia. I wish you two could come, but we’re leaving early in the morning the day after tomorrow.”
“I have classes,” Warren says glumly.
They start pulling out supplies from the cabinets that Chance put away while I preheat the oven and find a pan.
“It’s all good. Just make sure you’re both at my home meets, cheering me on.” Chance plants a soft kiss on Warren’s lips. “Will you two stay together while I’m gone?”
Warren looks over at me, almost pleading with his eyes. He doesn’t have to beg. He’d never have to ask to stay with me, he just has to show up.
I open my arms and they both hurry over to me. First I kiss Warren, then Chance, loving how they both look almost dazed after I put my mouth on them. “Yeah, we’ll be together, Golden. I’ll keep Firebird company.”
“Good,” Chance says with a sigh. “I like the thought of you two together while I’m gone.”
“You’re not gone yet,” Warren says. “Let’s make these cookies. Then we can talk about what me and Thorne will do while you’re winning trophies and what not.”
Chance bounces his eyebrows. “I like the sound of that.”
“Mind out of the gutter, Mr. Spencer,” Warren says with a smile. “Now teach me how to roll this dough.”
For the next twenty minutes, we move around the kitchen, laughing and joking. Well, they laugh and joke, I listen and soak up their happiness.
That funny feeling swirls in my chest, beating back the bad memories of my past. Maybe this is what I need to be good for them—two people who believe I can be. Who believe I already am.