I freeze, the sound of the shower taking me back to the near drowning the guys gave me five days ago. A warm, naked body presses into my back, and I spin to find Jude there, droplets of water beading on his beautiful, inked-up body. A gasp falls from my lips when I see lines of red scabs marring his upper thighs. I lose count, there are so many, and my eyes flash up to meet his.
“Ninety-six. One for every hour you spent down here,” he tells me in a hoarse tone, and my chest tightens at his confession. His jaw is clenched, like he expects me to tell him off. To judge him for his coping mechanisms.
“Oh, Jude, love,” I say softly, stepping into his arms and wrapping my own around his torso, resting my head right over his beating heart. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He pulls me away, just enough to look into my eyes.
“Don’t you ever say sorry to me, Nightingale. Never, you hear?” I nod, feeling a twinge in my chest, the knowledge of what I have to do lying heavy over my heart. Then his whole face lights up. “You called me love.”
“It hurts here whenever I’m apart from you.” I hold his stare as I place a hand over my beating heart and I repeat the words he told me not so long ago. “I feel rage here whenever I think about anyone hurting you,” I continue, laying my hand over my solar plexus. “I feel calmer, safer here whenever you’re near.” I take his hand in mine and place it against my temple. “Now tell me, is that love?”
His jaw works, and I’m sure the droplets lining his eyelashes are not just from the running shower behind my back.
“I don’t know who gave you to me, Nightingale, but I call dibs for fucking life,” he says back, and I laugh, the water no longerbothering me like it did when I first got in. “Let me take care of you.”
We spend a long time letting the steamy water warm up my chilled body, Jude washing away the trauma of five days ago, while I face the reality of gang life.
Jude was right when he said none of us have much choice in this life, and also correct to point out that I should be aware of that more than others. How can I blame Aeron for what he was forced to do? Maybe he’ll learn to feel the same after…
One thing at a time, Lark.
I don’t let my mind go there, to what will happen. They’ll be fine. Instead, I focus on Jude’s strong hands as he covers me with a shower gel that smells a lot like Tarl; all spicy and exotic. When I’m finally warm enough, my skin pink from the heat of the water, Jude steps out first, wrapping a thick, fluffy towel low around his hips in that sexy guy way before holding one out for me.
“Stop looking at me like that, Nightingale,” he admonishes as he dries my body with as much care and gentleness as he took washing it.
“Like what?” I reply, batting my lashes and pulling an innocent expression, even while I drag my eyes over his sculpted torso.
“Like you want to fuck me raw,” he answers, throwing the towel he was drying me with on the floor and grabbing a white, fluffy robe. “Or like you want me to fuck you raw.”
“And if that is what I want?” I ask in a breathy whisper, my core heating at his words, at the visual they create.
“Then make up with Aeron like a good girl,” he murmurs against my ear as he wraps the robe around me, tying the cord tightly. “And we’ll both fuck you. Together.”
My breath hitches and I have to swallow past the surge of lust that floods my body before I can speak again.
“Promise?” I ask, and he steps away, his towel now tented in the most distracting way.
“Scout’s honor,” he replies, making the Star Trek sign against his temple and smiling roguishly at me.Fucking idiot. We exit the bathroom, our fingers intertwined as Jude leads me towards the stairs. Once we reach the top, I pause, my heart thudding in my chest at having to face them all. It’s always been easier with Jude, what if I get some kind of PTSD with the others? “You’ll be fine, Nightingale,” Jude whispers, clearly seeing my thoughts racing across my face. It’s not lost on me that he reflects my own thoughts about them and what’s to come back at me. Taking a deep inhale, I nod and then follow him through the doorway into the darkened room, a single lamp illuminating the vast space.
He steps aside and I see them all there, Tarl and Knox frozen as they look at me with anguish in their eyes, their faces tight with all that’s passed between us. My chest tightens at the pain and sorrow in their eyes, but it’s Aeron who holds my attention right now.
Aeron’s gaze is not on me. It’s lodged somewhere in the middle distance as a glass of amber liquid hangs from his long fingertips. He looks different; his jaw covered in stubble where he hasn’t shaved, his slacks creased and his shirt unbuttoned at the neck and rolled up to his elbows. I don’t hate it, but can see that it’s a sign of the turmoil his mind is in.
Without letting myself question my actions, I walk towards him on bare feet, not pausing once before I climb into his lap, sitting sideways so I can bring my feet up and touch as much of him as possible. The sound of a glass shattering on the floor sounds before strong, warm arms envelop me, pulling me closer as he breathes a huge, shuddering exhale.
“I'm so fucking sorry, Dove.” His voice is gravelly, sounding just as broken as mine did when Jude first came to me in the basement.
“I know, Devil Man,” I reply, snuggling into him and breathing in his comforting scent. There’s a heavy dose of whiskey added to the usual clean cotton, amber, and vanilla scent, but again, I don’t hate it. Pulling my head back a fraction, I look up at him and wait until he’s staring back at me. “I was reminded that we don’t get much choice in this life, but I can choose forgiveness, and I choose to forgive you, Aeron. We belong together, come what may, and I won’t let our pasts take that away, because then they win.” I don’t need to explain who they are; our fathers whose bitter hatred for each other started this godforsaken war long before we were born. “I choose you. All of you.”
His arms tighten around me, his head dipping down to rest our foreheads together.
“I choose you too, Dove. You, and only you, for as long as I have left,” he whispers, and tears sting my closed eyelids. “And I swear to you that I will protect you with my life, now and always.”
His lips brush mine, and I sink into the kiss, a shuddering breath leaving my chest when his tongue sweeps into my mouth in a claiming that is all Aeron Taylor. He reinforces his vow with his kiss, pulling me as close as he can, telling me with his body that he will protect me.
We pull apart, breathing heavily and staring into one another’s eyes with this newfound thing between us. It’s fragile like a seedling, and I just hope that it cannot be destroyed. That it’s able to weather the storm that will descend on us sooner rather than later.
“Hells yeah!” Jude shouts, making me jump and swing my gaze over to him. “Hashtag whychoose!”
