It was his fault for dragging it out, for building that level of anticipation, for feeling so fucking good Aiden had barely even had time to enjoy it before it was over. He hadn’t even grabbed a condom. Not that they’d had any. But still, when it came to Thomas, Aiden was an idiot in every sense of the word. He lost all control.
By the time they pulled into the mansion’s drive, there was barely enough room to park his Jeep. While his brothers had opted to park in Thomas’s airplane hanger-sized garage, others—like Jericho’s kids—had parked their cars along the sand-colored pavers. Most of the cars were beaters, junk cars abandoned at Jericho’s garage and fixed up by his boys. Despite their appearance, Aiden knew most of them could beat Asa’s Audi R8 in a street race. Jericho’s kids might not be rich, but when it came to cars, they might as well be wizards.
Aiden exited the Jeep, expecting Thomas to follow. He didn’t. He just continued to stare straight ahead until Aiden went around and opened his door, taking his arm and pulling him to his feet. Thomas gave Aiden a look of dread, like he was walking the green mile to the electric chair.
Aiden wanted to tell him he was being dramatic, that his children would never abandon him, that they certainly wouldn’t blame him for what happened with Shane. But Thomas wouldn’t believe him. No matter how high his IQ was, he lacked the capacity to see people’s motives like Aiden did. He believed in his heart he would lose his children after his confession, no matter how absurd the idea was. It was real to him.
Aiden opened the front door, rolling his eyes when he realized they’d left it unlocked. What good was asking the family to come home for safety if they were just going to roll out the welcome mat for whatever lunatic they were dealing with. One would think a family filled with serial unalivers, would take security more seriously, but with a lack of remorse or guilt came a heavy dose of hubris and audacity. This family really thought they were invincible.
When Thomas once again didn’t budge, Aiden pushed him through the door. Thomas fought for a brief moment, then fell into the foyer, eyeing the potted palm in the entry just long enough for Aiden to fear he might vomit in it. Aiden closed the door and locked it, relaxing only once the automatic lock engaged. Anybody they wanted inside had the code for the front door.
It wasn’t hard to find the others. They followed the cacophony of voices to the large drawing room deep within the house, stopping short in the wide doorway. There were people everywhere, more than Aiden had ever seen in one place at the same time. He did a mental headcount. Zane sat in Asa’s lap on the sofa, Felix sat on the arm, Avi by his side. Noah and Adam stood with some of Jericho’s kids. The blue-haired boy was Arsen, the one beside him was…a number. Seven. They called him Seven. He couldn’t remember the name of the one sucking on a lollipop, but the quiet boy with the long hair was Cree.
Jericho sat in one of the armchairs, hypervigilant. His husband, Atticus, slumped in the other, chin on his hand, surveying his family like a bored prince surveying his subjects. Lucas and August were missing, but Aiden had seen their SUV outside. They were probably in the nursery settling the girls in their mini-palace.
There were no women in the room. Had Calliope refused to come? Was it that important to keep her identity a mystery? It seemed a weird hill to die on. They knew her son, they knew his last name. Twenty-five dollars and a Google search could have found her.
He shook the thought away. That was a problem for later. Thomas was his current problem. Slightly hungover, sweating and rooted in place, refusing to move farther into the room with his family. A blur broke from the sea of bodies and launched themselves into Thomas’s arms. Noah. It was always Noah. If ever there had been someone meant to be Thomas’s biological child, it was him. Nobody—possibly not even Aiden—loved Thomas as much as Noah did. Like a father. A father who could do no wrong.
“Why did you leave?” Noah asked, his muffled voice accusatory. “You wouldn’t have let us run away.”
Thomas stood as still as a statue, not hugging Noah back, not doing anything at all. Just staring at his children while they stared back at him, all with varying degrees of confusion, hurt, and betrayal etched on their faces.
Thomas shook his head. “I—”
Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, a female voice echoed throughout the marble halls. “Hello?”
Noah stepped back, his expression going from misery to excitement far faster than any sane person could manage. “Calliope?” He looked to the others, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Calliope!”
Then he was gone—they all were—rushing back towards the main entrance, all desperately curious about Calliope’s true identity. Aiden was curious, too. He followed the others, dragging a near catatonic Thomas along with him. “You really need to get it together, Tommy. You’re scaring the shit out of the kids.”
Thomas nodded but said nothing, letting Aiden pull him along. By the time they made it back to the entrance, there was a weird stand-off of sorts happening. A woman—Calliope, presumably—stood flanked on either side by Dimitri and his boyfriend, Arlo.
Over the years, Aiden had pondered what Calliope might look like. He’d imagined her to be a blonde woman in her fifties, quirky but matronly, maybe a lot of makeup and teased hair, a bit rough around the edges. He’d been wrong. Dead wrong.
If Calliope was over forty, Aiden would eat his left boot. She had long black hair with a shock of white framing her face. She was taller than average and curvy in an hourglass figure kind of way. She wore ripped jeans, aRamonest-shirt, a leather jacket, and a pair of black unlaced Doc Martens like she had just stepped out of a nineties teen drama.
“Calliope’s…” Noah started, then trailed off like he wasn’t sure what to say.
“Young,” Jericho supplied, his surprise evident.
“Goth,” Seven added.
Aiden rolled his eyes as the twins chorused, “She’s hot.”
Dimitri took a threatening step forward, glowering at the twins. “Fuck off.”
“It’s okay. Relax,” Arlo cautioned, rubbing the younger man’s arm until his shoulders sagged.
“No wonder you didn’t want us to meet her,” Asa said under his breath but loud enough for everyone to hear.
Calliope ignored them all, scrutinizing Thomas beneath false lashes before marching up to him and slapping him hard in the face. “Snap out of it.”
The gasp from the group was audible, like something out of a movie. Nobody moved, not even Aiden. He could have defended Thomas from one of the boys, but what was he going to do to Calliope? It was…Calliope. And, honestly, he agreed with her. Thomas needed to snap the fuck out of it.
“What?” Thomas muttered.
She put both hands on her hips in a stance that looked weirdly maternal on a woman who looked like a roadie for a metal band. “I said snap out of it. I don’t know what you did or why you did it, but not a soul here believes you to be capable of killing children. You’re not that kind of person. You never have been and you never will be.”
