Those fuckers didn’t deserve to live after what they’d done to Mal.
“He’s gonna have to miss work,” Nico said, looking at Levi and Shiloh.
They knew what that meant.
“I can pick up more shifts at the restaurant for a week or so,” Levi offered.
Nico crossed his arms over his chest, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I can call my mom. Well, I can try, anyway,” he amended. “She’s ghosted me.”
“We’ll cover whatever you’re short,” Atticus said, not even missing a beat.
He said it like it was no big deal. To Atticus, it wasn’t. He was rich. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered to help make their lives easier. They’d all spent time living rent-free at Atticus’s hostel next door to the garage. The one Silas currently managed. But they all felt weird taking money from them. They were adults. They should be able to pay their own way.
Jericho gave a triumphant cry as he encased a wiggling Jett inside a blanket he’d yanked off the sofa, tucking him under one arm like a rolled-up carpet while the boy giggled, staring at them upside down.
“We’re going to get even with these guys, right?” Nico asked Atticus.
Atticus nodded towards his husband. “Ask your father.”
Jericho stopped dead in his tracks.
They all did.
“What’d you say, Freckles?” Jericho asked.
Atticus didn’t stop what he was doing, but he sounded defensive as he asked, “What? Is that not the case? Aren’t all of them your—our—children? Isn’t that what you told me before we got married?”
Nico’s chest tightened as Jericho looked at them all fondly. The mechanic had raised them, but he wasn’t the type to gush about his feelings except when it came to Freckles and, now, the little ones.
Nico looked at Levi. What were they supposed to do? Or…say? Did this require a response?
A grin broke out across Jericho’s face. “Yeah, Freckles. That’s what I said.”
“You did?” Levi asked, stricken.
“Yeah, kid. We’re always gonna be a package deal,” Jericho said, like it was a fact.
Levi blinked rapidly.
Nico’s head was spinning. “So, will they? Live?”
Jericho gave Nico a look he’d seen a thousand times before. The one that said Jericho needed time to think. “Go take care of Malachi. We’ll talk when you’re done.”
Nico expected Levi and Shiloh to follow but they stayed behind. He carefully opened the door, wincing as it made a slight creak. Mal flinched but didn’t open his eyes. Nico carefully and quietly shut the door before turning back to the bed.
He sucked in a breath. Mal was shirtless, his hair wild like he’d fallen asleep with it wet. The sheets tangled low around his hips, giving Nico an unfettered view of his injuries, including the two symmetric circle-shaped burns on his chest. Nico seethed. That was how they’d gotten the jump on him. Fucking losers. Two to one and they still had to cheat.
Nico floated closer, stepping over the wheat-colored blanket Mal had kicked off at some point. He bit his lip as he inventoried Mal’s injuries. The ones on his torso were still an angry red, but Nico knew they’d darken to purple by morning. His left cheek was puffy, his left eye already starting to turn black in a ring, like a panda’s. His nose and mouth were both swollen, a cut bisecting his lower lip. There was also a small gash on his forehead.
Nico couldn’t stop the low whine that escaped. Mal’s eyes popped open. Nico’s heart stopped. He rushed forward, but Mal just stared at him. Just when Nico started to fear he was more injured than Atticus realized, Mal beamed at him, eyes bright and smiling, alarmingly happy considering his injuries.
“Hi,” the older boy said. “Come ‘ere.”
He made grabby hands at Nico.
Nico stumbled forward, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. “Hi, Bunny.”
“I’m a bunny?” he said, sounding genuinely surprised. He looked down at himself. “Am I hallucinating?”
