Snark, Bear and I plop down into one of the couches while I cling to sleeping Izzy, refusing to let go of her while I'm still so shaky. What would've happened to her if Dario had hit me? In a sudden burst of realization, I go from shaky to shaking uncontrollably, like I have a massive fever. I'm not the type to cry in public, but a sob racks my body, and another, and I just can't get them to stop.
Eagle-eye comes over and gently picks Izzy up out of my arms. I let her go, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Take a deep breath. You’re good. She’s good.” He settles Izzy against his shoulder and pats her back, bouncing in place like only someone who’s had some experience would do so automatically. “Guys, take care of your woman.”
Without a word, Bear pulls me close so I can snuggle against his massive shape. As big as he is, he could nearly hold me like I hold Izzy. Snark presses in on the other side, his arms going around my waist, and sandwiching me between two big, beautiful men while I sob uncontrollably into Bear's shirt. How did I ever think I could go this alone?
“That fucker's going down,” growls a biker across from us, in one of the easy chairs. He draws a vicious looking knife, nearly as long as my thigh and scrapes his thumb across its edge. “To come here and wave his gun around like a dick at a whorehouse, and fucking shoot Hawk? I'm going to slice him to pieces, starting with his fingers and toes and work my way in until there's only a goddamn stump left.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I whisper. Though, knowing that he's blaming Dario rather than me is a small comfort.
“Blade, I'm going to make sure you get that opportunity,” promises Snark, “but not until I've ripped his tongue out and jammed it down his throat. We're going to have to fucking share.”
“Snark!” Bear snaps.
“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry, but he rubs my back.
Under Bear and Snark's gentle caresses, my shivering fades until I’m just left feeling sick and worried. “It's my fault,” I finally whimper.
“Dario fired that gun, not you,” says Bear. “He's the one who came here to look for you. You didn't encourage or invite him. Alessa, you're our woman. We're here to protect you. None of this is your fault.”
Our woman. The words warm me like hot chocolate settling in my stomach. I'm sure they mean it, but… “He never would've come here if it wasn't for me.”
“And you never would've been here if we didn't knock you up. And we never would've knocked you up if you hadn't been born so fucking gorgeous.”
“Shut up,” I say into his shirt, but his words make me feel better anyway.
Bear runs his hands through my hair, his fingertips caressing my scalp. “Hawk's going to be okay. Doc's one of the top ER surgeons in the city.”
Snark sits up and pats my thigh. “How about we get the room set up with your stuff? All your shit's still out in the van. Something to take your mind off things.”
It's not a bad idea, I suppose.
The guys don't let me carry a thing, and Eagle-eye waves me off when I try to take Izzy back. “I had one little freak out, I’m not useless, guys.”
“I know you can, baby, but that doesn’t mean you have to while we’re around,” says Bear as he pushes past with a box filled with Izzy's toys. Snark's right behind him with the crib. Even without my help, it doesn't take long. I look around Viking's apartment. The crib and changing table in the corner, my go-bag waiting on the couch, and a box of toys waiting for Izzy—it's all I've got left. Well, I guess that's not totally true, but I can't go back to the apartment now that Dario knows about it, so for now, this is all I have.
My phone rings. Bear and Snark look at me with questioning expressions. It's Dad.
I could choose not to answer, but then he'll worry, and now that the Family knows I'm at the Screaming Eagles, of course he does too. He's not going to stop calling. I tap to answer.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Alessandra! You're safe.”
I snort. “No thanks to Dario. I told you he was obsessed.”
“And yet, there are many who quietly whisper the same questions he had. Why are you at the Screaming Eagles, piccola mia?” There's an edge to his voice, like he knows he's not going to like the answer.
“I told Papa. Emily Hawthorne is here. We know each other from Holy Cross. You remember the Hawthornes.” I wet my lips, knowing he won’t be as easy to persuade.
“Please, Alessandra. Papa was looking for any excuse to call Dario back. He wants this truce, but don't think you can fool me. You may have known each other from school, but you were never friends. So why are you at a sleepover at the Screaming Eagles? Why did Dario find them in your apartment? What is it that you've never told me?”