Virgin - 3 weeks
Lou was hanging out on the couch in the living room, a heating pad on her stomach, three blankets on top of her, but one whole leg stubbornly sticking out.
I stood there in the doorway, not knowing if I wanted to head out there. Lou was unpredictable when she didn't feel great.
I was about to turn around when I saw West come out of the kitchen, making a beeline for Lou.
Letting out a sigh, I stayed put, figuring West was about to say the wrong thing to the wrong woman on the wrong day. I was going to be picking up pieces of him later if I didn't stick around to deescalate the situation.
West moved toward the coffee table, dropping down low. Almost like a bow.
A mug of coffee met the surface of the table off a tray he was holding. Then a pile of cookies. A bag of chips. A beer. And a bottle of pills.
The fuck was he doing?
Even as the thought formed, he ducked his head, studying his feet as he slowly backed out of the room, disappearing back into the kitchen as Lou reached toward the table, popping the top off the bottle, tossing some into her mouth, washing it down with the coffee.
The bottle turned, label out.
Midol.
"I can't figure his ass out," Renny said from my side, shaking his head as Lou let out a grumble, tossing over, burying her face in the back pillow cushions. "He picks at the women. Gets inappropriate with them. Gets punished by them. Does it again and again. Then plays nursemaid when it's shark week?"
"Getting rusty, man," I murmured, knowing it would irk him, maybe liking getting under his skin a bit since he liked getting under everyone else's.
"Reign'll get it all out of him," he told me, moving back toward his room which he'd had West cleaning all morning in anticipation of Mina getting back from some job Lo had her on for the past few weeks. It was why he was a bit more of an ass than usual. Word was, before Mina showed up, Renny could be downright intolerable at times. She'd managed to rein him in a bit. But the longer she was away, the more time he had to himself to fuck around and get lost in his head again.
"Stop staring at me," Lou growled, making me shock back into the moment, finding she had turned again, starting to glower at me.
"Eyes on the floor. Eyes on the floor," West's voice demanded quietly. "Back away quietly," he added, moving with me toward the door.
"I'm not a bear," Lou snapped at him.
"Of course not," West agreed in a placating voice as we moved out the front door. "Have some cookies," he added, quietly closing the door.
"You got sisters?" I asked, curious.
"Got one. And a mama. Aunts. Exes. You gotta give them junk food and space. Freddie likes pizza bagels," he added, making my brows shoot up.
"Good to know."
"And an extra sugar in her coffee. But she won't admit to that."
"Seriously, man, who the fuck are you?"
A slow, sly, foxlike smile was the only answer I got.
Yeah, Reign had to figure his ass out.
Freddie - 4 weeks
"Bitch, what is this?" Thad asked, waving a spatula at my jeans and t-shirt.
"An outfit?" I asked, brows drawing together.
"That is a 'I am comfortable in my new relationship' outfit. You better have something sexy on under it."
"Ty wears jeans and a tee every day," I objected. "Why are you cooking? I thought you had a date with Danny? Or was it Allen? Todd? Where are we in the rotation?"
"I'm taking the week off."
"The week off? From what? Being yourself?"
"Maybe you have inspired me to stop being such a slut, and find me a solid man of my own. I mean... they've all been solid," he added with a smirk. "But a steady one."
Steady.
I guess that was what we were.
It was hard to believe that it had been less than two months since we met, since I got free, since my life got set on a path I hadn't anticipated. One infinitely better than the one I had planned for myself.
"That's great, Thad," I told him, meaning it, loving the idea of my brothers finding someone steady in their lives. Though, from the sound of things, Colson hadn't even looked at a woman since Jelena came into the world. He might have been a lost cause until she was an adult and moved out. But I would settle for seeing Thaddeus finding love. The kind that came with more than one night in a row. Which, apparently, was against the rules of his rotation. No back-to-backs.
"What's it like?" he asked, head ducked to the side a bit as he watched me.
"What is what like?"
"Having love blooming and shit," he clarified. "And don't try to tell me you aren't falling. You know you are."
He wasn't wrong.
It seemed crazy to think of that word in relation to a man I had known for, objectively, a very short time.
But we had shared a lot. We'd shared everything. All our ups and downs. Almost every single one of our nights - whether at the clubhouse or my and Thad's apartment.
It had been an almost effortless progression of things. And, sure, at the beginning, I was maybe a bit curious if it was all the sex, the endorphins, the love hormones released during an orgasm. But as the weeks moved on and I found myself happy just to sit with him on a couch and watch some biker show on TV and have him tell me all the ways they'd screwed up the facts, or to bake dessert for him while he told me some more of the back stories of his brothers and the girls, I realized it was definitely more than just physical.
And how did it make me feel?
"Upside down," I decided. "I know that sounds weird, but he makes me feel like I am upside down. In the best way possible."
"Girl, get your Diana Ross on," Thad said, humming the song.
"That song is about being in love with a man who cheats on you," I reminded him.
"Don't be a killjoy. Alexa! Play "Upside Down" by Diana Ross," Thad demanded, cranking up the volume, grabbing my arm, dancing me around the kitchen.
And all I could think as we danced like a bunch of idiots was... I almost threw this all away. I had planned to throw it all away.
I was ready to give up beauty days with Thad and Jelena, lunch dates with Colson, nights in bed with Ty, knowing and having fun with the girls club, having a job I enjoyed and a boss I adored, cooking with my loved ones, showing my love like we had always done.
And dancing around the kitchen like a bunch of teenaged girls in their mirrors.
Maybe I had been wrong, after all.
Maybe I never had to be tough.
Just patient. Just open. Just understanding of the way life sometimes threw things at you for a reason, no matter how hard it may have been to see the reasons at the beginning.
There was a knock at the door.
And thinking it was maybe Ty who got back from a run early, I danced my way over, unlocking the door, pulling it open as I did a twirl.
Then nearly whacking my head against the side of the door at who was actually standing there.
Not Ty.
Or Colson and Jelly.
Not any of the girls. Or the guys.
Not even the neighbor down the hall with pre-read magazines.
Nope.
It was a person I was sure I would never see again. And maybe even a person I hoped not to see again.
Auntie May.
She didn't show the years on her face. It was still as unlined as it had been the last time I had seen it - telling her I would help her cook dinner on the day my entire life was thrown off its axis. Her hair was different, shorter, thinning just the slightest bit behind her bangs. She seemed thinner, too. But she had the same eyes. Sharp. All-seeing. All-judging.
A box was nestled in her arms, another on the floor at her feet.
"Who is at my door when I am trying to get my freak o... well," Thad started then cut off, all the joy seeming to drain from him at once.
There was not a single person I had met who was more accepting of themselves as Thaddeus was. All the good, the bad, the lovely, the not so pretty. He saw all of himself and loved it regardless of what society said. Nothing and no one could make him question himself.
Or so I thought.
I hadn't been around for their fallout. When Thad finally told the world what those closest to him had always known. We hadn't gotten around to discussing it either. And I guess I had been right in assuming it was a sore subject.
Because nothing stole Thad's joy.
Except our aunt.
"Alexa, off," he demanded, grabbing the edge of the door above my head, holding it steady. It was a silent way of saying there was no way in hell he was letting that woman into his home. "Last time I saw you, I believe you said something about how you would show up at my door when hell freezes over."
"I am not here because I want to be," Aunt May declared, voice as intimidating as I remembered it being. It was funny how it still had me wanting to curl my shoulders forward, make myself smaller, shrink away from her. Ten years away where I had become a grown woman. But I still felt like her presence made me small.
"Then you're here because?" Thad asked. His tone sounded unaffected, bored even. Only I knew it was a front.
"I have had these boxes cluttering up my garage for ten years now. I want them out of my house."
Just like she never wanted any of us in her house again.
It shouldn't have, but it still smarted. Not as much as it would have a decade ago, but enough.
"Good. You dropped them off. Go on and head out. You have made it clear you want nothing to do with any of us. What was the phrase again? Something about being ungrateful and an embarrassment."
"If you're expecting me to say anything different..." Aunt May started to speak.
"Tigers don't change their stripes. Cheetahs don't change their spots. And old, bitter, unhappy women don't change their minds," Thad cut her off.
"I did everything for you," she insisted.
"Except accept us. And love us," Thad shot back.
"How can someone love a rock in their shoe?"
"How da..." Thad started.
"No," I cut him off, shaking my head. "It's not worth the anger. Not anymore. Aunt May, I hope you live a long, healthy life. In your lovely, empty house. And I pray your self-righteousness can keep you warm. And your superiority can be the steadiest of friends. And when you find yourself all alone in that life you built for yourself, I hope you don't know the bitter taste of regret for pushing away your family just because they didn't turn out how you wanted them to."
To that, Aunt May had nothing to say. Really, what was there she could say? She dropped the box down on the other then stormed away, her low heels clicking on the linoleum floor in the same way they had when she had first walked into that child services building the night we met her.
Poetic, that.
"Girl, prison changed you. Made you all wise and shit," Thad said, giving me a small smile as we moved inside, closing the door in what felt like a very final way.
"Wise," I snorted, shaking my head. "This morning, I almost brushed my teeth with triple antibiotic," I told him with a self-deprecating laugh. "When you came out, it was bad, wasn't it?"
"Well, it wasn't all rainbow flags and happy tears, boo. But I didn't expect it to be anything other than what it was. We always knew she was close-minded about this shit."
"Was it as bad for Colson?" I asked since he was in a talking mood.
"Only after he made it clear he wasn't going to put a ring on it. You never met Jelly's mama, but she was a hot mess. Always stepping out on him. Always screaming and throwing shit. He was smart not to shackle himself to that. I mean, you know Colson, he planned to take care of both of 'em. But he had no plans to make it official. Which, clearly, was the right move."
"She hasn't had any contact?" I asked, my heart hurting for Jelena, even though I knew Colson and Thad had done everything in their power to make sure she didn't feel that loss.
"Last Colson heard from her, she was out in California chasing movie stars like she has a chance of getting a sugar daddy or some shit. Not even any birthday cards for Jelly."
"What does she say?"
"Jelly?" Thaddeus clarified. "She doesn't really bring it up. But she told me once that she thinks her daddy needs a mommy to make him happy. Don't get that sad look," he demanded. "You know they are both happy in their lives."
"But they could be happier."
"In a way, everyone could be happier. Except maybe you," he added, giving me a sly look. "You are all glowing and shit. If I knew love would be so good for the complexion, I might have tried it years ago."
Virgin - 2 months
"I'm not scared," Freddie taunted, hopping around on her toes like some stereotypical boxer in a movie, head dipping up and down, hands curled into fists.
A mix of cardio kickboxing classes with her brother and a few trips to Lo and Janie's gym where she'd taken some lessons from Pagan had her get this idea of trying to fight me in her head.
"I'd rather you sparred with the girls," I insisted. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Lo said I'm not going to get better if people treat me with kid gloves."
I imagined Pagan had been careful with her. Not because he objected to going full-force with one of the women, but because he knew I would be pissed if he did with my woman.
"And since someone sent out some mass text or something about not wanting any of the guys to bruise me, I haven't been allowed to really practice with a guy. How am I going to learn to defend myself against one if no one will practice with me?"
Alright, that was a fair argument.
"You won't need to defend yourself," I shot back. "I got you."
Freddie's arms dropped, her eyes going small.
"Okay. I know it is like... forbidden to even say her name anymore, but from what I hear, there was not a single girl more trained or more protected than Ferryn. She was still taken. Held. Forced to endure who-knows-what. I'm not saying that you can't - for the most part - protect me. But I want to know how to protect myself in case something ever happened when I was at work. Or alone in the apartment. Or walking home after getting my hair or nails done. I don't want to be at someone else's mercy because no one would teach me, Ty. You have to admit that this lifestyle comes with certain risks."
I was painfully aware of that fact.
I had never given the risks a thought before.
It was part of the life. It was part of what drew men to it. The excitement. The unknown. The chance to need to defend yourself at any given moment.
If we weren't - at least in part - adrenaline junkies, we'd have pursued normal jobs.
Accountants.
Electricians.
Physical education teachers.
And it was all well and good when all we had to worry about was our own asses, those of our brothers who also willingly, happily went into the lifestyle.
Everything changed when it was no longer about you and your brothers.
I'd been raised up to be accepting of the fickle hands of fate.
I learned to figuratively and literally roll with the punches.
Very little managed to spark anger.
And the idea of anxiety was a foreign thing.
Until Freddie came along.
Until it wasn't, for the first time, just my life who my actions impacted.
Suddenly, all my mind was filled with was these asinine worst-case-scenario fears.
Like what would happen if we were raided and she was in the clubhouse. Guns and illegal money. She could be pulled in and charged. Go to prison again.
I wouldn't be able to fucking live with myself if that happened, if I did to her what her ex had, took more of her life away.
Or what would happen if there was some new, unknown enemy in the shadows, catching me and her walking down the street unaware sometime, popping out of a dark alley with a gun.
What might they do to her to make me pay?
What if this went where I had a sneaking suspicion this was heading - meaning somewhere serious - and we did the house and the ring and the kid thing. And I caught a bullet like my old man did, leaving her on her own with kids to raise?
It was constant.
And, thus far, uncontrollable.
I wanted to think I could be all she'd need. That I could shield her from anything. But that was my ego speaking. The reality was, she did need to be prepared, trained, capable of defending herself.
She was right.
Aside from some of the women who trained her, there was no one more prepared for any situation than Ferryn. Yes, she was still taken, plucked up off the streets like an untold number of women who would never be seen again save for when they were drugged and raped by John after John.
Nothing could stop bad from happening sometimes.
But time spent training for any situation meant you had a chance of surviving it, getting free of it.
Like Ferryn had.
If I was going to pull Freddie into my life, I owed it to her to give her every skill I possibly could.
No matter how much I didn't like the idea of putting my hands on her in a way that would leave marks.
"Okay," I agreed, nodding, watching as her eyes went wide.
"Okay?" she asked, clearly thinking I was going to make her beg.
"Yep. Rule number one..." I started, but then charged at her, grabbing her arm, twisting her around, anchoring an arm around her middle, yanking her up off her feet. "You gotta be prepared for anything," I told her as she kicked her legs straight out. Like most people would do in the same position. "Don't pick up your legs," I told her, dropping her down so her soles touched the ground again. "Use all your momentum to kick off the ground, shoot yourself upward. If you do it soon enough and with enough force, you can break a man's hold. Then it is an elbow to the midsection," I told her, waiting for her to twist to demonstrate. "And, finally, a couple hard-as-fuck closed fists to the cock. Then you haul ass away."
This was stuff the girls would teach her once she was fully adopted in. She'd be dragged up to Hailstorm, be put in every possible situation. Grab from behind. Chokehold. Hair grab. Wrist grab. Rape position.
Then once she managed to break away from whoever was teaching her, someone else would step up. Then another. And another. Until she bested them all. Then and only then was she deemed trained.
And by then, there would likely be another new girl in the club to train.
An hour later, her tee was damp with sweat, her breathing harsh, hard, her eyes frustrated, but determined, as I slammed her back against the floor in the rec room - or whatever the fuck Reign wanted to call the room that was supposed to house all the prospects that we had co-opted to use for this session - trying not to wince at the crack of her body on the hard floor.
My hands circled her wrists, pinned up above her head on the floor, my upper body curved over hers, the only part of us touching being my pelvis crushing hers down.
The move was simple.
She'd done it a dozen times already with varying levels of success.
She needed to pull up her legs, knees to chest, press her feet into my hipbones with force, enough to shoot pain through my system, make me let her wrists go, allow her more range of motion to keep hitting, kicking, get me down so she could get up and run.
Her feet lifted up off the floor.
But paused, lifted up too high, wrapping around my lower back, clamping tight as her hips lifted up, doing a roll, grinding up against me.
Surprised, caught off-guard, my hands loosened.
Just enough for her hands to slide out.
It happened too fast for me even to react.
Her hands free, she cocked her arm, catching me in the jaw with her elbow with enough force to make me rear back, the crack sending off sparks of pain through my jaw, mouth, teeth. Using the opportunity, her foot finally found my hipbone, cracking in hard, knocking me off, onto my ass.
She was up in a blink, shoving her hands into my shoulders as her hips slammed down on mine, pinning me to the ground.
On top of me as pain ricocheted off my nerve endings, her face victorious, proud, beaming, she was the sexiest fucking thing I had ever seen.
"You're supposed to run," I reminded her, my hands settling in at her hips.
Her smile went slow, sly, as her body folded forward to press against mine, her lips pressing into the spot below my ear as her hips ground down into me.
"You want me to run?" she asked, voice low, teasing.
It was right then that I realized two things.
Training turned her on.
And I suddenly had absolutely no objection to it.
Freddie - 1 year
Okay.
I was being picky.
I will admit that.
And, judging by Ty's defeated look, I didn't even have to.
We'd been looking at places.
As in to move into.
Together.
It was time. We'd spent pretty much every night - save for when he was on a run - together since we had started officially dating. But it was always at the clubhouse where there was next to no privacy, or Thad's apartment that felt a lot more crowded lately since he finally found his upside-down-feeling person.
Had you told me that a tall, skinny, cardigan-wearing, glasses-clad, economics professor would be the one to steal his huge - albeit carefully guarded - heart, I would have laughed in your face.
But Olwen Doyle had been his first back-to-back.
Then his first week-ender.
Then his first meet-the-family-at-a-formal-introduction guy.
Until, finally, four months into dating, they decided it was time to move in together. And since Olwen's place was a shoebox in a crummy area a long drive away from the college, it made sense for them to shack up at Thad's apartment. Where they promptly adopted a bright orange flat-faced cat with unsettling yellow eyes named Odette who silently judged everything you did.
After a couple months of awkward 'we heard you having sex last night' morning interactions, Ty had been the one to suggest it was time to get our own place.
Then probably just as promptly regretted it.
I'd dragged us to eighteen places in seven days.
Some were great, but too far from the clubhouse and my job.
Some were just around the corner, but had noisy neighbors or terrible light or too small of a backyard.
See, my mind was on things other than a house where we could have sex without being overheard.
There needed to be at least two bedrooms.
And a yard to play in.
Because, well, while I hadn't taken a test yet, I was late. And I was never late. You could set national calendars based on the regularity of my schedule. First, the craving for sweeter coffee. Then pizza, always settling for pizza bagels instead of ordering in. The telltale soreness. The cramps. Then finally, the big event.
It never mattered what was going on in life, it came as expected since I was fifteen-years-old.
I was going on three weeks late.
I didn't want to settle for a smaller space, only to have to upgrade with a baby or toddler in a year or two.
"Just this last one today, I promise," I consoled him. "Then I will make you something to eat."
"Two courses," he demanded, rolling his neck as we climbed back into my car which I had proudly bought with my own money after six months of working. Sure, it was three-times used. The back seat had stains that no upholstery cleaner could fix. And the radio came and went. But it was mine. I bought it. I took care of it. Took it for its oil changes. At Repo's garage. Because he, apparently, got butt-hurt if you paid for it at another place.
If Ty thought it was weird that I insisted on the car instead of the bike all the time, he didn't mention it.
We would get there.
I just wanted to be sure first.
"Done," I agreed, thinking of what was in the fridge and cabinets as we drove two blocks over. Still walking distance from the clubhouse. In fact, it was just one street behind where a bunch of the other club members bought houses, nearly owning their entire neighborhood.
It was a quiet street of starter homes - nothing with a second floor, everything with quaint fifth of an acre lots.
The one we were going to see was the last, on the corner that butted up to the back of a soccer field where there used to be little league games when I was growing up. I imagined there still were every weekend. It was a craftsman style painted a sweet gray-blue color with all white trim. I knew from the online advertisement that it was just shy of twelve-hundred square feet with three bedrooms, one oversized bath, and a basement that could easily be converted into more living space.
I knew before we even got out of the car.
"This is it, huh?" Ty asked, moving to stand next to me at the side of the car, looking at the small front porch where I could see us standing in the morning, waiting for our son or daughter to get on the school bus, waving to us from the window.
"This is it," I agreed.
"Alright. Let me go find the realtor."
I went to laugh at that.
It wasn't that easy.
There could be other offers.
There was the matter of loans and mortgage affordability quotes.
But, as it turned out, when someone was willing to pay cash at ten grand over the asking price, it really was that easy.
His arms wrapped around me when the tears - hormonal, they had to be hormonal, right? - Welled up in my eyes. "I love you," I told his chest, feeling it to a depth I never knew existed before.
"Love you too, babe," he said, kissing the top of my hair, his hands moving comfortingly over my back for a long minute before sinking into my ass playfully, making me laugh as I pulled away.
"Gonna have to put a swing set up," Ty told me as we climbed back in the car, making my head whip over, my surprise clear on my face. "I'm a lot of things, babe, dense isn't one of them. Haven't touched the pizza bagels. Eased up on the coffee. Won't ride on my bike anymore. Being picky as fuck about the house 'cause you know we need extra room and a yard. When were you planning on telling me?"
"When I knew for sure," I told him, shrugging it away.
"Well, let's stop on the way home," he suggested. "Let's get sure."
That night after eating pork chops with sides of mashed potatoes and green beans, while waiting for the banana bread to bake, we both huddled in the bathroom, me on the toilet lid, Ty on the edge of the tub, waiting for the timer.
According to the box, one meant nothing.
And life could go on as usual
Two meant we were about to be three.
Sure enough, life as we knew it was about to change.
The next morning, I rolled over to find Ty in bed.
With a diamond ring.
Virgin - 2 years
Roan came flying up the stairs, not even remembering to close the front door on the way out in his hurry.
It seemed the storm he had been waiting for had finally blown into town.
Virgin - 3 years
If there was one person I never expected to see walking into The Henchmen clubhouse, it was my brother-in-law.
Not Thad.
He always showed up when some big event was going on.
But Colson.
The man who approved of my love of his sister, of the life we had started, the family we were building.
But never my lifestyle.
"Colson, everything alright?" I asked, getting to my feet as Sugar sent me a lowered brow look.
"Can we talk?" he asked, voice weighted. It was then I noticed the tension. In his jaw. His shoulders. His hands were clenched down by his sides. "In private?" he added, looking around at Sugar, West, Cam, and Edison.
"Sure. Let's take a walk out back," I agreed. "What's going on?" I asked as soon as we were halfway into the backyard.
"I don't have anywhere else to turn."
"What's wrong?"
Both his hands rose, scraping up his forehead, over the top of his head.
"I lost my job."
He lost another job.
He used to have the security job at a club at night, but the owner had gone belly-up, closing without a warning, holding their last paychecks hostage.
That had been less than a month ago.
And I knew that he must have already been hurting financially.
Neither job paid that much. He paid a lot in rent to live in a nice area of town so he could send Jelly to a good school. He had her dance classes. And lately, karate. Freddie had suggested it, had wanted to give it to her niece as a gift, but Colson was a man with a lot of pride. He had insisted on paying for it himself. He also had a savings he put away for her college.
So losing one of the jobs had to have made him hurt.
Losing the second one must have been devastating.
"Downsizing?"
"Someone fucking accused me of stealing," he told me, his breath a savage hiss. "Me. Been there forever. Never even took a ketchup packet home. But they are sure it was me. Fired just like that. No reference. And, to be perfectly honest - and it fucking kills me to admit this - I was already hurting."
"That's fucked, man," I told him, shaking my head. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Don't make me beg," he demanded.
Beg?
My head twisted to look at him. Seeing the desperation, the uncertainty, but also the determination.
And I understood.
I had once told Freddie that if he ever needed a better-paying job, more security for him and his daughter, to get in touch with me.
This man, who so completely disapproved of my lifestyle, wanted to sign up.
"I'll talk to Reign," I assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "My word will go a long way. So as long as you don't change your mind, I figure you will have a weight off in a few days."
The numbers of the club were decent.
Reign didn't want to get much bigger.
But he would do this as a favor for me so long as Colson got through an interview and prospecting.
"I won't change my mind," he assured me with absolute certainty.
He didn't either.
I could see it the moment Reign handed him the cut.
The weight that got lifted from his shoulders, a weight he had been shouldering for years. Near poverty and single parenthood full of uncertainty and stress.
He wouldn't have to worry about money again.
About taking care of Jelly.
About not being able to get out of work when she was sick or off from school.
He was set.
Because he was now a Henchmen.
Freddie - 10 years
"Rune, get your turtle off your plate."
Motherhood, it seemed, consisted of sleepless nights, endless worries, annoying cartoons on obnoxious repeat, and saying a bunch of phrases you never could have imagined yourself saying before.
Especially, I imagined, when you chose to raise a small litter.
We were on four.
Rune, our oldest, a wildlife lover who spent most of his free time over at Rey's place, playing with animals. And, apparently, bringing some of them home too.
Then there were the twin girls. Aged five. Zora and Jovie. Who I swear loved their Uncle Thaddeus more than me.
Then, finally, two-year-old Carver. Who still loved me best. Bless his heart.
"He's hungry too," Rune insisted.
"He can eat in his tank."
"He's part of the family too."
"Let me get the kid a dog," Ty whispered to me as he passed. "It would stop all the little critters."
He'd had them all.
Hamsters of the dwarf and full-size varieties.
Guinea pigs.
Hermit crabs.
Mice.
"The cage cleaning is worse than the upkeep of a dog," he added.
He wasn't wrong about that. I spent a couple hours every week cleaning out cages and tanks and making specialized meals for all his creatures.
I had been worried about a dog knocking over Carver who was still a little unsteady on his feet. I figured it would be something to look into in another year or two.
But maybe it wasn't fair to Rune to deny him something he would absolutely get a lot of joy out of because of his brother.
"Something small," I specified. "And don't say anything until Rey finds something. Otherwise, we'll never hear the end of it."
"Knock knock," Thad's voice called, cutting off whatever Ty was about to say.
"Uncle Thad!" Zora and Jovie said in unison, hopping off their chairs it had taken me twenty minutes to make them sit down in for breakfast.
"And Uncle Olly," Thad added, moving inside. "And someone else."
Honestly, I expected their cat.
Who they brought everywhere.
I never thought it was possible for Thad to keep a secret. He was far too into attention, in being the center of every conversation.
He couldn't keep it to himself when he got a wax, or when he and Olwen tried a new sex position, or when he had a really fantastic brunch somewhere.
But, apparently, he could keep some things secret.
Big things.
Like the baby hopped up on his hip.
It all came back to me at once. The way Thad had been more distant lately. The way the guest room door at their apartment was stubbornly closed when it was always empty. The extra classes Thad was taking on at the gym, earning money I didn't think he truly needed for anything. And, of course, their mini-vacation they took last weekend.
It wasn't a vacation at all.
It was a trip to pick up a little girl with huge brown eyes in a doll-like face.
"Oh, my God," I gasped, settling Carver on the floor, forgetting all about cutting up apples and pears to go with the oatmeal I was supposed to be making. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Like you told us?" Thad shot back, still a little salty about the fact that we hadn't told anyone the news until we were almost five months along.
"That was different," I insisted, moving close, leaning down to give the baby a smile which she returned easily, without hesitation.
"Mmhmm," Thad said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, this is Bea. Her birth mother named her Beatrice," he clarified. "But we like Bea better."
"She's beautiful."
"She sure is," he agreed, leaning into Olwen who automatically put an arm around his husband, rubbing the side of his face against Thad's.
"You're going to be an amazing daddy," I told him, meaning it from somewhere deep.
"I've had a lot of practice," he brushed the praise off. Something the Thad he had been a decade ago never would have said.
A decade.
I had hardly even noticed the passing of it.
The same span of time that I had lost inside a prison.
It was amazing how much had changed.
Thad had shaken off his singleness, had found the man of his dreams, had started his own family.
Colson had become a Henchmen. He had found a woman who made his family complete. Jelena went from the cutest little girl to the most beautiful young woman. Who could dance like a swan. Or kick your ass if you looked at her wrong.
I had a strong, amazing, unexpected support system of fantastic female friends who could seem to sense when I was at my wits end being shacked up with all the kids, and show up at my door with coffee, with new craft projects to keep the kids busy, and would sit with me, having adult conversation that solidified the brain that started to go to mush when all it had to think about was diapers and laundry and if the new show the twins were into was mildly sexist or bully-promoting or not.
There were the men too, a whole new, giant group of brothers. The kind who would change the oil in my car without having to be asked. Who all showed up on the day when a giant swing set arrived, ready to get it all together. Who all happily watched the kids when the girls all wanted to go train at Hailstorm.
And, of course, then there was the best of all the men.
At least in my little opinion.
Ty.
It was hard to believe it had been a decade. It felt like last month when we had been cuddled in bed after our first night together, eating brownies right out of the baking tray. Just last week that we shopped for houses and watched a stick tell us our lives would never be the same.
He'd been right there in the room, letting me nearly break his hand as we welcomed Rune into the world.
He'd dried my cheeks after an epic meltdown when, suddenly, at just three months, Rune refused to breastfeed any longer, and we needed to switch to bottles.
He'd wrangled Jovie in front of him while I worked on Zora, both of us carefully styling their hair as quickly as possible.
He would sit up with me after we put all the kids to bed, exhausted, but not ready for sleep, wanting some adult time to just exist.
In the mornings, we would take our coffee out to the front porch while Carver played in the gated living room, waving as the bus took Rune, Zora, and Jovie to school.
We'd created a life from what had felt like - at the time - impossible odds.
We'd become the couple I never thought I could have.
We'd become the parents the world had denied us.
He'd been the man I hadn't even let myself dream about.
And more.
So much had changed.
And I was so incredibly thankful.
"Bitch," Thaddeus said in a low voice, hip free of his new daughter, "what in the actual fuck are you wearing?"
Well, some things stayed exactly the same.
And for them, I was thankful as well.
XX