And it’s just Gage, Chloe, Logan, and me, the queen of the crows. Leave it to Emma to get a zinger in on my birthday. Can’t wait to see what contraption Christmas brings. A framed picture of her face that I can use as target practice might be nice.
I look up at Gage, more than ticked that he lets his mother continue to crap all over me. But then, he’s crapping right along with her these days.
“You wear a paper crown, Gage,” I hiss. “Don’t forget it.”
The party winds down, and we save the gifts for tomorrow.
Logan and I get the boys back home, and they’re crashed before we ever get them up the stairs. They’re so heavy I need to employ my Celestra strength just to get Nathan to his bed. Logan carries both Barron and Jaxson. Once we’ve tucked the boys in, I feed Jaxson as Logan holds us close. I just stare into those mesmerizing eyes of Logan Oliver’s as we telepathically share our undying love for one another.
Logan and I are a miracle. Our family is a miracle. And no matter what heartache we may have gone through, I wouldn’t trade any of it because it gave us our perfect beautiful son.
We made it, Logan.I nod to him in the dark.Just one more step and we will have the victory we have longed for.
One more step.He leans over and dots my lips with a kiss.Let’s hope it doesn’t lead off a cliff.
A tiny laugh warms my chest.
And if it does?I nod over at him.We fly.
We fly. He nods right back. Hell, I think we should fly anyway.
And we will.
Some of my fondest memories on this godforsaken island have all surprisingly taken place right here at the Harrison estate. In fact, Ellis’ parties were the first real parties I had ever gone to. Not that the parties back in L.A. weren’t great, but they were never so charged, so full of drama, holding an outright electric undercurrent of emotion, and tonight is proving to be no different.
The grand room at the Harrison estate is the size of an average ballroom, packed to the hilt with the eighteen to twenty-five sect, and I’m starting to feel the burden of being on the older end of the spectrum.
I glance over to Brielle as she drags me into the center of the room where the bodies are gyrating and rocking out to the live band Ellis was kind enough to hire.
“It’s too loud. There are far too many bodies, and I’m missing my babies!” I shout over at her, and she makes a face.
“It’s your birthday party! Shut up and have a good time, Skyla.” She bumps her hip to mine in rhythm to the beat. “That is a direct order from your BFF! And stop talking to that whiner who lives next door.” Laken is no whiner. “She’s dragging you down, Messenger.” She gives a little wink as she throws her arms up over her head, bopping and twirling as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Then it hits me. Maybe, just maybe, for one night I can let go. And I join her.
Brielle and I dance until we’re hot and sweaty, until the room is steamier than a sauna and it spins with our every turn. My heart is pumping a million miles an hour, and I feel alive. Reborn. Gifted a new beginning.
Ellis comes at us with a beer for Bree and an ice-cold bottle of water for me, and I down it in a few quick gulps.
Ellis leans in. “Good show, Skyla. Gage has been pouting in the corner with Wes all night, eating his heart out at what he’s missing.”
“Glad to hear it.” I glance around for the sulking sultan’s wife, the queen of mean, and spot her dancing with Michelle, Lex, and Nat, shaking their stuff as if we rewound the clock a good seven years. This could easily be the first party I stepped into on Paragon sans the stretch marks. Near the kitchen I spot Laken, Coop, and Logan, and a fire ignites within me. “I think it’s time to open up a few gifts.”
I take off in their direction and am intercepted by Lex as she pulls me into her circle.
“It’s done.” Lex gives me a spontaneous five. “I mailed your wedding invites. Don’t do anything stupid and putz it up. I expect to see a bride and groom at Whitehorse come Decemberthirteenth.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. Thanks, Lex.” I glance to Emily. “And, Em? I’m putting it out there in advance, no visions, no paper, no pens, no pig’s blood allowed at my wedding. I don’t care if you spew green vomit because you can’t wait to draw on the side of the bowling alley. I’m taking a hard pass on the prognosticating.”
“Done.” She shrugs. “I have nothing on the horizon anyway. Which is sort of weird considering I haven’t had this feeling since before you came to town.”
“That’s because the Barricade is toast, and I’ll be on top again by the new year. Things are finally looking up for our people.”
Nat shakes out her hair, and I’m pretty sure she just sprayed her sweat our way.
“You know you’ve got me, Messenger. I’m a lifer.”
“Thank you,” I say, wiping my face.
“Me, too,” Em grunts it out like a threat.
