“Murder, breaking and entering, and theft? Our parents would be so proud.”
I have to laugh along with him. “You know what? I think they would be.”
23
NACHO
It’s nice waking up in Bram’s arms in a room that isn’t the exact size of our bed. I could get used to it.
When we got to the bunkhouse last night, Ant was still passed out on Erik’s lap in the living room. Erik’s large hand rested on Ant’s shoulder like he was trying to protect him from the things we’d been too late to stop. He had a thousand-yard stare going that neither Bram nor I dared interrupt.
We weren’t in much better shape, truth be told. Bram only made it halfway through our shower before he lost it. I held him as he sobbed, then held him some more as he tossed and turned through the night.
I saw both of his kills, and he was decisive in the moment. Ruthless. But in retrospect, it’s a terrible thing to take a life. Even if he wouldn’t change it.
We haven’t slept much when morning light filters through the blinds. He, Charlie, and Erik have a brief conversation about what to do with Ant. They decide he needs to stay busy for the time being and ask if I’ll go to work with him today.
So, despite being a big damn hero yesterday—Bram’s words—I’ll be spending today building fences and making sure Ant doesn’t…actually, they wouldn’t specifically say what they’re worried he’ll do.
Thankfully, he seems like himself when he busts me creeping out of Bram’s room at the ass-crack of dawn in borrowed sweatpants and Bram’s well-worn college T-shirt.
“Shut up.”
“Didn’t say anything,” he says, sipping his coffee.
“Yeah, well. Your eyeballs areloud.”
He lifts his chin at me as I make my way through the living room. “You going in to work?”
“Yeah. Something about making sure you don’t go on some mass killing spree.”
“Drama queens,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“You know, just because you’re more or less a Bash doesn’t mean you have to kill people.”
“Fuck off,” he grumps into his coffee.
“Fine. I’ll go get changed and be back in thirty.”
“Slut,” he cracks.
“You would know,” I shoot back, then grimace. “Sorry, that probably wasn’t—”
He snorts into his coffee and sends me off with a middle finger.
The day goes pretty well. I don’t fall asleep at the wheel, Ant doesn’t brutally stab anyone, and we both manage to avoid getting hate-crimed, so there’s that.
Midway through the day, we get texts from Charlie, calling us in for a meeting at the bunkhouse after work. When we arrive, Bram, Levy, and Erik are already sitting around the coffee table.
Tired and a little full of myself, I walk right up to Bram and sit on his lap. Rather than push me off and tell me to shower, which I was sure he’d do, Bram pulls me in close, nuzzling against my neck.
“I love the smell of your sweat,” he whispers. “Have I ever told you that?”
“Ugh. Gross,” Ant says, standing a little closer than either of us realized. “I’m going to sit next to Erik.”
Laughing and not at all fooled by his little maneuver, I take the empty space next to Bram and snuggle in against him.
Charlie and Justin walk in a few minutes later, grabbing additional chairs from the kitchen.
