Fuck off. I hate you. What about the twins? Where will they stay?
Jackson
The pool house is currently only a studio, and they all managed just fine last night, so…
Jesus, I don’t want to know.
Chapter 15
Reece
My partner shuffles into the kitchen in yesterday’s rumpled clothes, hair a mess, eyes heavy-lidded, head down. He smothers a yawn with his fist and pours a cup of coffee.
From the breakfast table, I clear my throat. “They, ah, don’t have a coffeemaker over there?”
He takes a massive gulp of caffeine before collapsing into the seat opposite me. “Didn’t want to wake them.” Eyelids nothing but slits, his body slumped, he sips his coffee.
A wide grin spreads across my face. “I’ve never seen you do the walk of shame. Did they get you drunk and kidnap you?”
“No alcohol. Not a walk of shame. We were up late playing video games.”
“Oh…okay.” I bite my lips and nod, feigning contemplation. “So, was one of the characters a vampire? And did he climb out of the TV andmaulyour neck?”
His eyes widen, and his hand flies to his throat in a clumsy attempt to cover the bites and hickeys left behind. “Shit! I have a meeting with Bennett this morning.” He drops his hand and stretches his neck. “Is it bad?”
“It’s…a threat. Luckily, it’s December, and you can wear a turtleneck or something.”
Leaning in, he hammers his fists on the table, his face flushed. “I don’t own a turtleneck. Do you own a turtleneck? No one owns a turtleneck. They went out of style with low-rise jeans. Fuckity-fuck-fucking shit on a waffle. How will I explain this to Bennett? I’m a horrible liar. I’m getting hives just thinking about it.”
A chuckle rises in my throat, but I hold it in. “I think you have bigger problems than hickeys and love bites. I wouldn’t mess with those two psychos, but hey,” I relax into the seat, “at least you’ll always be protected…and thoroughly fucked by the looks of it.”
His face reddens further. “It was only one night,” he mumbles into his mug.
One night, my ass. “You might wanna tell that to whichever twin—or both—marked you, claiming their territory.”
He tries to hide a smile behind his coffee cup. “He was just being passionate.”
I bark out a laugh, delighted my partner is finally finding his own happiness. “Yeah, passionately possessive. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it runs in the family. No one gets out of here sane.”
“You’re here. It’syourfamily.”
“Exactly. Have you seen how jealous Aurora is? I’m stuck. She’d hunt me down.”
He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Says the guy who assaulted a team of nurses after beingshot to reach her.”
My insides stir with agitation, a lingering effect from the fragmented visions. I vaguely remember being gripped with panic, believing she and our family were in danger, a mix of reality, dreams, and trauma.
It happens in a flash. My mind plays tricks on me, blending past and present events, skimming through memories as if they were pictures in a flip book. A sharp, phantom pain slices through my thigh where I was shot, point-blank, in another life, and my thoughts threaten to turn dark.
My mood plummets. Guilt strikes me, a tug of war between Aurora and my career. Can I truly step away from the intensity, the adrenaline, the reward of taking down bad guys? A part of me recoils at the thought.
Another thought stands out, though, greater than the guilt of not saving lives: I wish I were here when they broke in. “I should’ve been here—with her.” I failed, and failure is deadly.
Fingers snap repeatedly in my face, the sound jolting me back to existence. “I was here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I release a heavy breath. The tension in my chest and shoulders ease. Resolve spreads through me. Ineedto step away. I need peace. “I’m not returning—after medical leave. I’m not taking another case.”
He forces a tight, awkward smile, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I figured as much. It was difficult to accept at first, but I understand.”
