Aria
I’ve dreamed of the day when the nightmares would stop. When I would feel safe again. And I always imagined that day would be when I found the person or persons I was meant to be with.
The fact I didn’t wake up screaming tells me all I need to know. I was right. “I’m safe with you. I’ve been walking on a tightrope for years, waiting for my safety net to catch me, and it’s you. Both of you.”
It doesn’t take either of them long to move towards me. Melting in their arms, I’m the most content I’ve ever felt. Nothing can get to me when I’m with them. They think last night was bad because I couldn’t fully escape Tristan’s clutches, but they have no idea how comforting they were, even in sleep.
“He’s always going to haunt me. I wish I could say I don’t think about him every day of my life, but I do. Tristan is a part of me that I wish to incinerate in return. But it’s you two who bring me to life. You give me reason to breathe.” Never in a million years did I believe I would get to say these things to them. I’ve wanted to for so long, but it felt so out of reach.
Seven presses his head to the back of my neck, and I can feel his deep inhale. He’s always trying to draw me into himself. Severo cups my cheeks, and I see the previous darkness that was lurking in his gaze has simmered, and in its place is the lightness I have come to know and love.
Banging on the front door interrupts any further conversation. Both of them groan as they break free of their holds on me. “Stay put,” Severo instructs.
I have no intention of leaving the coffee until I have at least one large cup in me.
“I wanted to kill you both.” My dad’s cold voice causes me to pause as I’m about to pour the hot liquid.
“We convinced him not to. Don’t make us regret that.” I smile at Uncle Danny’s voice. He’s the voice of reason for everyone. Unless it has to do with Aunty Nika, then he’s guns blazing.
“Coffee’s in here!” I call out, forgetting I’m only wearing one of my guy's sweaters. I tug the hem lower; it already covers me to my knees.
Opening a cupboard, I pull out enough coffee mugs for everyone and start pouring as they all march into the kitchen. The twins look smug, as if having their dads on their side means mine won’t still kick their asses. This should be interesting.
“Morning, Daddy.” Smiling, I hand him a cup before reaching up to kiss his cheek.
“I’m not okay with this,” he grunts as he takes a seat.
Holding out two cups for my uncles, I kiss them too. “Morning, Uncles. How are you?” My chipper tone comes out of nowhere because my nerves are on edge, and I’m overcompensating.
“You can’t call them that when you’re sleeping with their sons.” I stare blankly at my father with no idea how to respond. I know he’d never intentionally say something to hurt me, but I feel it all the same. It must be written on my face because he rushes over. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, not even close to how I fucking meant it.”
“Might want to explain how you did mean it then, boss,” Dimitri points out with a scowl. Mom’s going to hear about this later, and it won’t be from me.
Staring up at the man who has loved me beyond belief my entire life, I wait for his explanation. “I’m not ready for this. For them. I knew it was coming from the time you were four years old and fell off that damn bike these clowns removed the training wheels from, even after I told them not to. It's just a lot to get used to.”
Surprised at his confession, I wrap my arms around his waist and wait until he returns the gesture before saying, “I’ll always be your little girl, Daddy.”
“Still not fucking ready.” But I hear the smile in his voice, and I know everything will be okay now.
CHAPTER7
Severo
We dropped Aria off at home an hour after our parents left. Seven and I had to drive to Mobile, Alabama, along with Hendrix and Bishop, to meet with the Deviant Sinners motorcycle club. The club president, Castle, wanted a quote on an escort job for something, and they refused to speak about it over the phone. Because they’re only an hour away, we decided to do it today instead of waiting.
“What do you know about these guys?” I ask Bishop, who's in the backseat, reading through something on his laptop.
“Not a lot,” he grumps with a frown on his face. “They own a bar and mechanic shop. No public arrests. Nothing in the news, good or bad. There isn’t much of anything.”
“They’ve been around for almost forty years, though. Castle’s old man was Prez until he stepped down a decade ago. All of them are former marines. The OG guys too,” Hendrix chimes in as he hangs up from a phone call. “I did a mission with the VP’s team in my early days. Prince is good people.” Coming from him, that endorsement is all I need to know that we’ll work with these guys. Hendrix doesn’t bring up his Army days to anyone.
“Any speculation on what it is they need help with then?” Seven asks.
“Hookers?” Bishop guesses.
We know they don’t run guns. Nobody this side of the States does but us. And if they do, they don’t get away with it for long. We also know everyone who has their hands dipped in the drug trade, and these guys have never popped up on our radar before.
“Human trafficking?” Hendrix’s doubtful tone suggests he doesn’t believe it, but it’s possible.