I never was comfortable around Tony. Especially when I first met him.
I slam the thought shut as he leads us down the hall.
Now in a more awake state, I pay attention to the walls. Before, I thought they were bare but that isn’t the case—they were simply tucked away. The family pictures with Luther, Pierce, Wren, and a younger man.
Must be Charles.
Pierce catches my attention on the picture of him flicking off the camera in a leather jacket with a motorcycle behind him. “My family is filled with riders. While I don’t associate with them anymore, I never could let go of my bikes.”
“Do the Rossis know your connection to Charles?”
Pierce chuckles. “It’s the only reason they didn’t bust down our door. I imagine as long as Charles stays underground, they’ll leave him alone. But Vinny is a hot-head. Even still, he is nowhere near as bad as his brother was.”
I can tell he doesn’t mean to say that by the way his jaw snaps shut and he jerks us further down the hall.
But the damage is done.
Tony was a good man.
Tony was a bad man!
A voice in my head I don’t recognize screams, the juxtaposition causes my world to wobble, but then Pierce is wrapping an arm around me. His scent pilfers through my panic. Through my instincts warring against me.
Through my entire world crumbling again.
We turn a corner and then there’s Luther standing in the kitchen as if this is perfectly normal. And I get a look into the life I could have here. Into being part of a pack. One filled with warmth and support.
But Wren is missing. Noticeably.
The dream shatters.
I do not deserve this. I am broken.
But I’m also pregnant. And that is the reason I won’t run.
Luther catches whatever is on my face and drops what he is doing to surge forward. He tugs me from Pierce’s arm, wrapping me in his own. Covering me even further in his scent. “You look good in our clothes.” He nips into my ear. “There’s food, you must be hungry.”
He practically carries me to the kitchen bar, settling me onto the swivel stool. When he releases me, I spin in it to take in the rest of the room.
For three men living alone, their house is very warm. Comfortable and cozy. It is clear they all care about their home.
Outside, the sun is beginning to fall, but I can see that it isstillsnowing. “When is it going to stop?”
Pierce takes up the seat next to mine, reaching for my arm. He strokes my bare skin, rubbing his wrist against mine. Covering me further in his scent. I lean into his touch, into the way it settles my nerves, eases my anxiety.
“It will stop tomorrow night, but it won’t melt for several more days,” Luther says as he places a bowl of steaming pasta in front of me, but he holds onto the fork.
“Where’d Wren go?” Pierce asks as he leans over before I can, taking the fork from Luther’s hand.
“The cabin. He’ll be back tonight. I know he won’t be able to keep away. He just needs to cool off. This entire situation has left him feeling out of control.” Luther watches me intensely as he speaks.
Pierce impales a ravioli, blowing on it. “Open.” He hums.
I listen without argument, unsure of his next move.
When he gently pushes it into my mouth, I moan at the flavor and my contentment. Being taken care of, fed? It’s completely unfamiliar territory.
I want to be embarrassed, but I’m too happy to feel any shame.
