Letting his emotions get the better of him was not a good move right now. So instead he lapsed back into routine. He took in the room littered with fast food, rumpled sheets. No Orion, but he heard the running water coming from the closed bathroom door and made his guess that she was in there. The fact she was up and able to shower told him she was, at least, less hungover than the other three, who moved like sloths.
“We’ll talk soon, babe?” April addressed Jaclyn, bringing the woman in for a hug.
Maddox half expected the aggressive woman to sucker punch his sister, but to his surprise, she hugged her back, tightly. “Of course,” she said, letting her go. She even smiled. “You’re the shit!”
Fucking April. Could make anyone her friend. There was something about his sister, a charisma that drew everyone in. Made them like her, warm to her. Let their guards down. If he wasn’t so fucking furious at her, he would’ve been thankful she helped soften the hard edges of these broken and scarred women.
April moved to Shelby, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, squinting at the cartoons playing on the muted TV. She stretched her arms high in the air and let out a big yawn. There was something childlike about the way she did that and it hit Maddox square in the gut.
“Love you, Shelbs,” April said. She squeezed her small hand. Maddox noted she treated her gently. His sister had seen the way the woman held herself, the fact she was the most vulnerable of the bunch.
Shelby smiled, and it was bright, innocent, and beautiful. “Thanks for everything, April,” she said, glancing at the men shyly before darting her gaze back to the TV.
“Anytime,” his sister said, smiling with a sadness Maddox hated.
He’d wanted to protect her from this. From the truth of how broken these women really were. But that was embedded in her now. April saw more than most and took in the troubles of the world unlike anyone. She was an empath. She carried people’s pain around as well as her own.
The door to the bathroom opened, and he was hit in the face with everything that was Ri.
Her hair was damp, skin flushed from the shower. She had no freckles anymore, he’d seen that immediately, of course, but it was more prominent now. Her face was all angles. Angles that sharpened when she took in Maddox and Eric standing near the door. She did not address them beyond her scowl.
Maddox didn’t blame her. He understood her anger. Her fear. She was being thrust back into a life she didn’t recognize anymore. None of her family was alive. Telling her about Adam was the hardest thing Maddox had ever done in his life. She’d been through hell, worse than hell for the past ten years. Escaping that should have meant there were no blows left to take. No more open wounds doused with salt.
Losing Adam cut her the deepest, he saw that. Her little brother was her everything, the only good thing in her family, and he was gone. Maddox had not only failed to protect her, failed to find her, but he failed at protecting her brother too. He was a just a kid when Orion was taken, and he had no one to help him with the grief. Maddox wanted to be there, wanted to help the young boy who had to grow up too fast, but he didn’t know how to. He was barely able to keep himself alive through the pain of losing her, of feeling disconnected from the world, of a career that found him dealing with the dregs of society, and victims who would never get their true due justice. He lost sight of himself, and his responsibility to Orion, to make sure her brother was okay, safe, alive.
He wanted to apologize. Fall at her feet and beg for forgiveness. Wanted to yank her into his arms, press a kiss to her forehead, and promise her everything was going to be alright. That he would be by her side and fight to take away her pain, even if that pain could never really go away. He wanted to catch every monster responsible for this and make them pay.
April didn’t give him a chance to do anything, and he would never actually admit it, but he was glad of the save.
He knew she wanted to hug Ri, but everything in her body language screamed that such a thing was a bad idea. So April stood awkwardly in front of her, and she put two hands on Ri’s shoulders. “I love you. I really do,” she said, sounding far less confident and sure of herself than he’d heard in a long time. “And I’m so fucking thankful you’re here, Ri.”