I turned to Garrett, a scrunched face of bemused surprise. Garrett just laughed.
“Nah, for real, being a dad is great, but I’m never going to turn into a sappy mess around you assholes. Maybe you can, Professor Smartass.”
“Why?” I said.
I liked it when the guys thought that because I was on the quieter side, it must have meant that I was more prone to love. In some ways, it was the opposite—I had more space to think about why being in love or even pursuing romance was a bad idea. There was only one person in the last couple of years that had really captivated my attention, and I hadn’t seen her since she’d slept with one of the guys here.
So, yeah, I was not about to be a sappy mess for any girl or anyone.
“Well, the rest of us have fallen in love, and we all know Mason is too old to find his love.”
“What am I, a thirty-nine-year-old woman that wants kids?” Mason said with a laugh. “I’m good, Garrett. You focus on taking care of my nephew right now.”
“Hey, Lil Chucky could use a cousin or two.”
“Oh, so I should just knock up someone just to make my nephew happy?” Mason said. “He can’t even speak right now, you dumbass.”
“That’s not true. I already heard him say ‘shot?’ He’s going to grow up to be just like his daddy!”
“God help us all,” I said, drawing laughs from Mason and even Garrett.
Cole came over to us as Lilly and Roger went to the elevators and rode up to their apartment.
“Come on,” he said. “Drinks are waiting.”
Cole walked in front of us by about ten feet. We gave him the space he needed; whatever he was thinking about, it wasn’t pleasant. None of us said a word, either; I think we wanted to respect the silence Cole wanted.
We walked outside, turned right, and headed next door to Reapers. Cole opened the door and walked inside. Brock was next, holding the door, and—
BOOM!
An explosion rocked the inside of Reapers, knocking us to the ground. Fires erupted inside. I scrambled to my feet, but I couldn’t hear shit.
I turned to the street, looking for any Bandits. There were none. A couple cars stopped to look at the explosion, but I didn’t see anyone in Bandit attire or on a motorcycle.
“Brock!” I yelled.
Mason was already running inside. He grabbed Brock. The other Reapers still on the ground, I hurried inside, ignoring how my hearing still hadn’t returned. I found Cole lying on the ground, unconscious. He had burns on his body and what looked like debris lodged in his skin. As best as I could tell, nothing had hit an artery, but he was in serious condition.
“Shit!”
I put my arms under his, lifted his heavier-than-expected body, and dragged him outside as the distant sound of sirens slowly reached my ears. They were probably a block or two away, not two miles away, but even the shouts of Mason and Connor sounded like they were coming from the other side of a valley.
I got both of us outside of Reapers, collapsed to the ground, and caught my breath.
“The fuck was that?”
“It was a fucking bomb, obviously! Fucking Bandits must have planted it.”
“This wasn’t the work of the Bandits; they’re not that fucking smart.”
“So what, you think it was King?”
“I don’t fucking know!”
Everyone else was descending into chaos and distress. I stood up and bit my lip. I couldn’t calm them down, nor was that even the right strategy. I knew too well from parties when fights broke out that trying to calm an angry lion was a good way to get attacked.
“Hey, shut the hell up!” I said. “We gotta get Cole to a hospital. He doesn’t have anything that needs attention right now, but I’d rather not wait, OK?”
