Despite the rising tension throughout the club, that night with Ayda had been pretty goddamn special. Her shy eyes had met mine with uncertainty, and it took everything I’d had within me to scoop her up into my arms carefully without demanding to know why the fuck she didn’t think I’d want to spend the rest of my life with her. Her shyness hadn’t lasted long, though. The second I’d stripped her of her clothes and lowered my body on top of hers, she’d come to life the way she always did when we were alone and naked. We worked as a partnership. Before her, I’d been a mess. Constantly confused and fighting off the old demons. She’d been certain of her dismal future, resigned almost, fighting off her dreams, which she’d crushed beneath Tate’s needs.

Together we came alive.

Together we were where we were always meant to be.

She gave me life. In return, I gave her everything I fucking had within me. Including my heart.

I kissed her goodbye and left her in bed the next morning. She wasn’t working her shift at Rusty’s until later, and I was in the throes of battle mode. Sleep, even though it was next to the girl I loved, was a luxury my mind didn’t allow me to have. When you were in control of so many lives and other people’s future happiness, having time to rest and settle wasn’t an option. Alone time became the fuel. With other people around, I couldn’t think clearly, even though I loved them and actually enjoyed their company. I became jaded by their smiles and their laughter. My mind would become sloppy, too lost on the road to happiness they were guiding me on. It was only when I was isolated, running the streets of Babylon at six in the morning, or in the training room, hitting a punch bag with sweat dripping down my spine and my breaths making their own song, that I really became the president that the Hounds of Babylon needed me to be. Every outcome and option ran through my mind, with the old me—the tactical me—providing clear answers and solutions to every glitch I had the foresight to see.

I should have known Harry would see through my early morning run followed by my gym session that particular morning.

He was becoming more and more like the father figure he’d always been, but he tried to stay away from pushing it in my face. His cries of son were becoming more frequent, despite him seeing how settled I’d become in my life with Ayda, and as president. Where once he’d only called me son if it had been a desperate cry for me to pay attention, now he used that term of endearment more than he spoke my actual name.

I’d already run six miles that morning and spent a good hour working on the bag when Harry pushed through the door, grumbling “Morning, son,” through his rough, pre-morning smoke voice.

“Harry,” I wheezed out, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

“Put a fucking shirt on.” He smirked as he staggered in, all hunched and aged and tired looking.

I glanced down at my baggy gray sweatpants and bare, sweaty chest before I looked back up at him and raised a brow. “If you don’t like what you see, Rogers, turn around and leave. I didn’t hand out invitations to this morning’s party.”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a guy with abs and tattoos.”

“If only you could breathe without choking, I might reciprocate.”

Harry held up his hands before he shrugged, coughed, and made his way over to the bench pushed against the wall.

I ignored him for a while. Not because I was trying to be rude, but because he’d watched me train a thousand times before and there was actually something comforting about him being there. He was a father figure to me, even though he wasn’t actually old enough to be my father for real. Whenever he focused on me this way, I pushed myself harder, made myself stronger, wanting to please him.

“Your back footing is off,” he eventually called out.

I wheezed as I let my heels fall down on the floor, my chest heaving and my chin rising while I let my gaze linger on his face. “What the fuck?” I gasped, breathlessly.

He pointed with one hand, his other pressed against the bench as he leaned forward. “Pete always told you to watch the weight on that back heel. Too much bouncing, not enough balance.”

“There’s fuck all wrong with my balance.”

“Meh.” Harry shrugged a shoulder.

“Meh?” I scowled, turning my smile down and staring at him hard. “What the fuck does meh mean? You sound like Tate.”

Harry’s smirk rose, his eyes twinkling with mischief before he glanced up at me again and chuckled. “The Hanagans are taking over the Hounds. Who’d have thought it?”

“Not me.” I shook my head, eyes wide as I bounced on my feet again.

“You ain’t Tigger, son. Stand the fuck still for a moment.”

“Harry…” I planted my gloved hands on my hips and turned my full body to him, standing still. “When was the last time you had your dick sucked?”

“About two weeks ago. You?”

I grinned like an idiot at the memories of the night before.

“Oh, fuck off,” Harry spat out, reading my answer without me having to say it. “Is that girl ever off her knees for you?”

I laughed fully that time, throwing my head back and trying to pull in a decent breath. “Oh, I can guarantee you. I’m on my knees more for her than she is for me.”

Harry nodded, his fatherly smile both proud and disgusted as he held my gaze. “Of all the things I’m happiest about in my life, I think seeing you with her is at the top of the list.”

“She’s good for me.”

“She’s not just good for you, Tucker. She’s everything for you. Your dad would be proud. Your mom… hell… that woman would spend all her days crying if she saw you the way I see you now.”

I was about to answer when he started coughing. Not just lightly, but harshly. It came out of nowhere. His deep inhalation followed by the breath getting stuck in his throat and his whole body throwing itself into fighting off the phlegm that was sticking to his chest. He went red within seconds. His hand beat at his body. His nostrils were flared. His beard was littered with flecks of spit as he wheezed and choked and tried to control himself.

We were all used to seeing Harry coughing by now.

But that morning felt different.

Pushing my gloves off without any fuss, I heard them fall to the floor, but before I even had time to register where they’d landed, I dropped down in front of Harry as he collected his breaths, and I planted my hands on his knees, gripping them tightly.

“What the fuck is going on with you?”

“Jus’ the smokes,” he wheezed, still smacking his chest.

“And the last time you saw Doc?”

“He said I needed to quit.”

I raised a brow and tensed my jaw.

In return, Harry rolled his eyes and held a palm in my face. “I don’t need your shit. I know.”

“You’re scaring me, Rogers, and I don’t scare easily.”

He looked old as I studied him. His skin resembled the leather we all wore every day, and his cheeks had sunk like the reaper on our chests and backs, too. I was the snappy Hound at the side of him, warning anything harmful to back the fuck off, but what good was that? The reaper was always the one in charge. He was the one who decided who lived and who didn’t. I only had to hope Harry wasn’t giving up on me that easily.

“Tucker,” he said through a long, heavy sigh. “We’ve had this discussion so many times—”

“Then don’t you dare make me say it again.”

“I’m fine.” He wafted a hand around. “Just old.”

“You’re not that fucking old, Harry.”

His eyes snapped to mine, his face losing all humor. “In this life, you’re old before the rest of the world, son. You know that. I know that. We’ve both served time, right? We know how that adds ten years to your life with every year you serve. Those beatings… you remember those?”

I swallowed harshly, feeling my body stiffen as I held onto his legs and nodded.

“You remember the cold?”

My jaw twitched, the muscles flexing as the memories made my bones ache.

He leaned in. “You remember the sounds of those gates closing? The locking of the door? The rattling of the bars as the other inmates tried to create all Hell around you?”

My nostrils flared as my breathing quickened.

“We’ve already lived half our lives, Drew. And you know what?” His eyes searched mine wildly, a small, almost devilish looking smirk creeping into his cheek. “I wouldn’t change a damn fucking thing. Not one. Not the beatings. Not the cold. Not the sounds of the gates, the door, the rattling… I’ve loved every second of my life so far. I’m gonna love every second I have left, whether that’s a day, a year, or a fucking century.”

“Not a chance, old man.” I smirked in return, even though I didn’t feel at all humorous. I felt deadly. I felt cold. I felt scared.

“Probably not.” He shrugged. “My point is, I’m happy. Please stop trying to change me.”

“I just want—”

“I know.” He cut me off, nodding with understanding. “I know.” Without a second thought, he wrapped his hand around the back of my head and pulled it to his chest… and I let him. I let him hold me as I pressed my ear to Harry’s chest and listened to the rattling there. I could hear his heart, big and strong, pounding against the tight wheezing of his chest. We stayed that way for a while before I lifted my arms and embraced him in a hug that was rare for the two of us but needed.

That was the thing about our family.

We were hard to the outside world.

But once on the inside, we were soft as shit, willing to bend and become whatever we needed to be whenever they needed us to be it. We were Hounds, but we weren’t all about the roaring and the howling. We whimpered for each other, too. We stayed tight. I loved him… and whether it was the event coming up in just a few days time or not, I didn’t know, but I suddenly wasn’t sure which ones of us were going to make it anymore, and which ones weren’t.

And that scared the living shit out of me.

The week wore on. Everyone was getting ready for the big night on Friday. What was going to be disguised as Tate’s belated sixteenth birthday party was, in fact, a ploy to draw out Jacob and all Tate’s teammates in the hope that we could entice Jacob’s Nav friend out into the moonlight, while also getting a glimpse at every boy and man from Babylon High, and how they reacted around Sloane.

Howard had been present in the school all week, as had two of his men. Tate and Sloane, much to theirs and Libby’s protests, had gone along with the plan for them to be seen as a couple, once again, to the majority of Babylon. They’d gone to classes holding hands. They’d gone to Rusty’s after school to eat waffles and ice cream while Ayda served them with a not-at-all-worried smile. Our efforts to portray a breezy life to everyone that might be watching us were award winning. Even I was playing the doting Prince Charming to my Ayda every time we walked through Babylon together, or I pushed through the door of Rusty’s.

Ayda could have won an Oscar for her performance. She told me while we had a few minutes alone that it wasn’t an act, it was just pushing that doubt to the back while she focused on the promise of tomorrow I’d planted in her mind. Her performances weren’t all for me, though. Even when Tate and Sloane were in Rusty’s, she doted over the couple as though they were always meant to be together. No matter what was put in front of her, what was asked of her, she did without question, and happily. There were only a couple of seconds of doubt on her cheerful face, and they were almost too fast to really pay attention to, but even Deeks had said they were concerning.

On the Thursday before the event we were holding on Friday, I was in my office, going over the plans in my own bubble of isolation. I wasn’t withdrawing, exactly… I just knew when I needed time to think and when I needed to be alone. Ayda, once again, shone, letting me go whenever I gave her a look that I couldn’t quite put into words.

It was Slater who pushed through my office door without knocking, forcing my attention to snap up.

“How you feeling?” he asked without fuss. It was what made him such a good Sarge for the club.

I leaned back in my chair, dropping my pen to the desk. “Cautious,” I answered.

“It’s just a birthday party.” He held his hands in the air as he walked forward. “That’s all it needs to be. There’re no guarantees the Nav will show.”

“He’ll show.”

“And Jacob?”

“He’ll definitely show.”

“What if…” He stopped himself as he sank into the seat opposite me, placing his hands on the desk and looking up at me through the thickness of his heavy brows. “This could go like last time, Tucker. I need to know, as your Sarge, that you’re going to do things differently this time.”

“Differently?”

“As in, you’re not going to enter any situations alone. You’re not going to leave Ayda alone. You’re not going to do anything…”

“... alone,” I finished for him. “No, captain. I’m not going to do anything alone.”

“And if the Navs show?”

“I’ll be respectful. I just want to see their faces. I’ll know if they have a problem as soon as I look them in the eyes.”

Slater nodded, but I could see the tactician trying to read all the unspoken thoughts that were lingering in my eyes. “Good.”

“Did I pass?” I asked sarcastically.

He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “You always do, Tucker.” With that, he stood and slapped his hand on the desk before he turned to leave. “Stay alive this time.”

“Always do,” I called back out, watching as he disappeared through the door, only for Tate’s head to replace Slater’s. “Don’t tell me, Hanagan… you want to go over a few last minute details, too.”

He slipped through the crack in the door, his eyes never meeting mine until he sank into the chair Slater had been sitting in just moments before. When he looked up at me, he looked like a young man trying to hide the fact that he was nervous. It reminded me of all the times I’d looked at Pete the same way, and I instantly felt a tightening in my chest. Whatever I’d done or not done to earn Tate’s respect and weird adoration, I was grateful for it. It made me feel like I was something I’d never be until the Hanagans had showed up in my life.

“You okay?” I asked him quietly.

Tate nodded, twisting his hands together in his lap but pushing his chest out to seem more confident than he felt. “Tomorrow night…”

“Yeah?”

“Am I meant to, you know…? Sloane. Am I supposed to kiss her and carry this on?”

“Yeah.” I smiled flatly, hating the position I’d put him in. “That gonna be okay for you and Libby?”

“Libby actually seems cooler with it than I do. She knows this is for the good of the club.”

“Good to know.”

“I’m just worried what else I’m going to have to do for the good of the club.” His eyes penetrated mine with questions I couldn’t possibly answer.

I couldn’t promise Tate a life without sacrifice. Not with us. I couldn’t promise him that he’d never have to do anything else that made him feel uncomfortable after this. There was only one promise I could make.

“You’ll always be loved and protected by this band of brothers, Tate. Always. It might not seem easy at times, but anything worth having in life never is.”

“You sound like Ayda.” He smirked.

“She’s rubbing off on me a little bit.” I rolled my eyes and tried to play it cool, but the kid meant a lot to me, and that was becoming more and more obvious with the instant smile that I had to try and bite back every time he was around.

“I really don’t wanna know,” he grumbled before he pretended to vomit.

“You’re screwing two women right now. You’ve no room to judge me.”

“Only for the good of the club,” Tate bit back as he pushed up from the chair and towered over me. “And Sloane is like my sister now. Don’t talk about her like that.”

“There’s hope for you yet, kid,” I said as I stared up at him. Nothing made me respect a man more than when he stood up for a woman. A boy. A girl. Whatever the hell these kids all were. “Now get out of here.”

He turned to leave, and I thought I’d gotten rid of him before he leaned back and peered around the door one final time.

“Is it true you’re gonna marry my sister?” he asked, his lips pursed.

“Excuse me?”

“Asking for a friend.”

I narrowed my eyes and leaned farther over my desk. “You tell that sister of yours to stop asking people to find things out for her that I’m willing to tell her myself every second of every minute of every goddamn day, Little Hanagan. Now get… out… of… here.”

He went with his laughter trailing behind him, while I shook my head and swallowed down my own laughter, too. It might have been the tension of what was to come, the nerves playing out, I wasn’t sure, but as I met everyone out in that bar later that night, it seemed we were all laughing way too much considering that a group of brothers were loading up guns in one corner of The Hut, while Deeks and Harry were pulling our bulletproof vests from an old bag at the other side of the room.

Were we being over cautious? Probably.

Did we have a right to be? Abso-fucking-lutely.

We’d gone on a dinner date just a few months earlier and almost died.

Tomorrow we were setting up a trap that didn’t just involve us, but half the population of Babylon. We had a band playing in Rusty’s diner. We were hosting an open happy hour for people to walk in while Autumn, Janette, and Sam mixed up Tate Hanagan special cocktails for the locals. It was like the Emps funeral all over again. A farce. A stage for us all to play on. Only this time we knew who was watching in the shadows and we had a right to be twitchy.

After I’d run through some of the finer details with my brothers, I’d spotted Ayda looking quiet on the stool by the bar. As soon as I’d seen that vacant stare gazing into the bottom of an empty tumbler, I made my way over to her, dropped my hands to her shoulders and began to massage the tension out of her muscles.

“Come to bed with me tonight?” she whispered quietly, her eyes still trained on the glass in her hands.

I hated the way her voice sounded pained, but I loved the words she spoke, regardless. “Want me to take you there now?”

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face as she put the glass on the bar. When she twisted on the stool to face me, she glanced up with eyes that were unreadable. The small smile on her lips made her bottom lip tremble.

“I need you inside of me.”

I wasted no time in lifting her off the stool until she wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. The men had seen it all before. They barely batted an eye our way. I wouldn’t have known if they had anyway. I was too lost, looking up at the fucking love of my life as her hair fell around my face, creating a curtain of privacy that left one ex-playboy wannabe staring at one hell of an angel he definitely didn’t deserve.

Being in our own private space made her soft stuttered breaths and nervous licking of her lips all the more obvious. It wasn’t as though we didn’t have one another every time the mood struck, but tonight was different. Tonight was a benediction. So many things were going unsaid and being replaced by a feral need for one another. Reaching behind her, Ayda pushed the door to our shared room out of her way, her legs tightening around me.

“I love you, Drew Tucker.”

Sometimes, when she told me she loved me, I didn’t answer. Not because I didn’t love her in return. It was because I loved her too much. It was like the feeling squeezed my heart, making the veins pop in my neck, cutting off the circulation my body craved. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but acknowledge that twist beneath my ribcage. My heart held my life in its grip and wrung it out, making me feel like I didn’t know who the fuck I was anymore, and I didn’t even care. She was the only thing that mattered. I’d never loved anything or anyone the way I loved her.

I doubted I ever would.

My footsteps fell slowly yet with determination as I made my way to the bed before my knees hit the edge of the mattress where I took a moment’s pause to hold her.

My fingers dug into the curves of her ass cheeks, and every time I breathed, I pulled her in. I was breathing her in as much as the air around me, every muscle tensing and tightening.

Bringing one hand to my face, she cupped my cheek and looked deep into my eyes, holding me there, giving me no room to escape. No room to take control or move things along. She’d taken the moment to hold that small ounce of control I’d given her and use it. Inch by inch she closed the distance between us, her lips brushing against mine in an unspoken promise before she devoured me. Deeper and deeper she took until she rose above me, her body pressed against mine with no room for daylight between us.

I took everything she had to give and savored the taste of her on my tongue. I memorized the feel of her kiss. I took pleasure in making her lips swell, my need to mark myself on her mouth so powerful, I became hungry and dangerous, yet tender and connected. She was everywhere, even while we were both still. Her fingertips moved from my cheek to my neck, to the curve of my shoulder. The top of my back was brought to life beneath her touch. The muscles in my arms were traced before she brought her hand back to my cheek and held me as much as I held her.

A lot of things in life could be faked. Our love wasn’t one of them.

As I lowered her onto the bed, with her legs still wrapped around my waist, I fell into the space I was always made to fit.

I broke away from her kiss, watching as she parted her lips and inhaled slowly. Her eyes were closed and her chin was raised, exposing her neck to me. It was an invitation that I wasn’t going to decline. My lips dropped to the small curve there, sucking tenderly at her flushed skin before I littered her shoulders with delicate kisses, eventually moving down the path that led to the curve of her breasts. I pulled down on the edge of her T-shirt as far as I could, desperate to kiss all the inches of her skin I could get my greedy lips to without rushing. There was no need to take anything fast. I had her for life.

The deal just hadn’t been sealed with a ceremony yet.

Groaning softly in the back of my throat, I pressed my hips into hers, making her feel the full extent of my arousal as I lifted my mouth to her ear and nipped her lobe with my teeth.

“I love that you’re mine,” I whispered roughly. “I love that I can do this to you every day, anytime, any place, no matter where or when. I love that you found me.”

Her response came as a mewl of breathlessness, “I’ll always be yours.”

I tugged at the edge of her shirt, hearing the tear immediately. It was rougher than I wanted to be, but need was taking over, and I tugged a second time. It ripped again, splitting to her stomach until all I had to do was push the edge of my palm through it for it to slice open and reveal her naked skin. I pulled back and looked down on her before I dropped my kisses to her belly and held her waist tightly. It didn’t take long for me to move down, my hands finding the edges of her jeans and tugging them down with one hard motion, too. Her breaths stuttered, her body jerked, but I had the material slipping down her legs in no time. I slid off the edge of the bed and removed her shoes, throwing them over my shoulder before I pulled her jeans off completely and tossed them to the floor. Her white, lace underwear was nothing more than a thin strip that disappeared up the creases of her ass cheeks, and I took a moment to rest on the heels of my feet and run a finger over the material as slowly as I could.

A shudder worked over Ayda almost violently; her skin breaking out in goosebumps as her stomach muscles twitched with need. There were no inhibitions between us now—none of the shyness that had been there at the beginning. There was a boldness when you knew someone as deeply as we knew one another, and that was made all the more evident as her legs fell farther apart in invitation and her fingers dug into the comforter beneath her.

I watched her body’s reactions with fascination as I moved the lace aside and carefully pushed a single finger inside her. It was slow—like I was touching her for the first time. Like I didn’t have a right to touch her, but her body tightened instantly, everything contracting and inviting me in farther.

“Fuck,” I whispered, my lips staying parted as I focused on my finger gliding in and out of her carefully.

Barely lifting her head, she gazed down at me with nothing but love and trust in her glassy eyes. Her response was reverent, like my name was the only word she knew. “Drew.”

The smirk barely had time to play on my lips before I pushed up and grabbed the back of her neck with my free hand, pulling her toward me and slamming my needy lips to her swollen ones. It was breathless and nasty as I held her to me and fucked her with my finger. I wanted to feel every ripple of her warmth. Every shudder she released belonged to me. And as I slipped a second finger inside of her and hooked them to the exact sweet spot I knew drove her crazy, I bit her bottom lip and mumbled against it, “You’re never gonna be safer than you are with me. I promise, baby.”

The last word was barely out of my mouth when she tightened around my fingers and came undone with a cry that said she didn’t care who heard.