My cheeks were dry at the end of it all. I refused to shed even one more tear for that piece of shit. He had taken so much from me. Even after I left him, he’d kept hold of a piece of me that was not freely given. But now, Mia was safe, my men were unharmed, and I was…free. “Is it over?” I whispered, standing in the center of our home. It looked the same, and yet,everythinghad changed.
“Yes, baby. It’s over.” Lazlo kept running his hands over me, as if checking for injuries. “You did it. You are so incredible.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Are you kidding? You saved us all. Our hero,” Jerry said, pulling both me and Laz into his arms. I would’ve laughed if he hadn’t sounded so serious.
“I’m no hero,” I insisted. “I just… stood up to a bully.”
Jerry tilted my head back to look into my eyes. “Don’t do that, don’t sell yourself short. It was a big deal, August. He had a gun. You put your own life at risk to save the ones you love. You are so brave. Some might even say…heroic.” His full lips pulled back in a smile, and I snorted a laugh, slapping a hand over his firm pec.
“Fine. I guess I’m a hero then,” I said with an eyeroll.
But then Lazlo pressed himself into my back, hard enough to feel his growing erection. “And you deserve the full hero treatment…” I wasn’t sure what that entailed, but if it meant being naked with my men, then I would take the title gladly.
There would be interviews in our future, evidence and witness statements and a trial. But more importantly, there was a beautiful future to be had. A life of freedom and happiness and love.
And I couldn’t wait to get started.
24
August
IhadafeelingI was supposed to be a little more stressed out than I was right now, but after everything I’d been through, I just couldn’t seem to muster even one drop of sweat. Which was just as well, because I suspected Jerry was sweating enough for all three of us.
His t-shirt was clinging to his muscular torso, and under any other circumstances, I would’ve ogled the hell out of him. Right now, though, I had other things on my mind.
“Could you maybe stop pacing?” I asked gently. “It’s making me queasy.”
He came to an immediate halt, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum tiles as he rushed over to my side. “You’re nauseous? What can I get you? I’ve got some ginger chews you could suck on, or if you need something stronger, maybe Laz can—”
“Jer?” I said, cutting off his rambling by slapping a hand over his mouth. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Would you tell me if you weren’t?” he mumbled against my fingers.
“Yes,” I said, before rethinking my answer. “Probably.”
He peeled my hand away from his mouth and drew in a long slow breath, more for his sake than mine. “Are you in any pain?”
I made an undignified sound. “Do you want me to answer that?” Of course I was in pain, I was in labor, for gods’ sake. My contractions had started around 3am this morning, but I’d wisely kept that little tidbit of information to myself until after breakfast, knowing just what kind of reaction I would get from my mates. But then my water broke just as I stood up from the table, and there was no hiding the fact that I was in labor.
Cue Jerry’s panic.
He quirked an eyebrow. “How are you so calm? You’re about to push out a baby!”
“Would you rather I panic?” I asked lightly.
“Well, no, obviously not. I just expected a little more…” He waved a hand around in front of my hospital-gown-clad body, right down to my fuzzy socks. “Urgency?”
Taking his whiskery face in my hands, I drew him down for a kiss, forcing him to lean over my wide belly. “The baby will get here when they get here. There’s no sense in trying to rush them.”
“I’m not rushing them,” he said with a pout. “I’m just… excited.” Yeah, I wasn’t buying that for a second.
“That’s not the word I would’ve chosen,” I muttered under my breath. Just off the top of my head, I thought “high-strung” would’ve been more apt.
Lazlo chose that moment to walk into the hospital room, carrying a to-go cup of coffee for Jerry and one of ice chips for me. He chuckled, taking in our rumpled alpha. “For someone so controlled in every situation, you seem to be having a hard time handling this one, Jer.”
“I am not!” he claimed, eyes wide, but then he paused and took stock of the situation—his clingy shirt and sweat-damp forehead—and he sighed. “I promise, it’s not that I don’t trust your skills, Laz. It’s hard to watch a loved one in pain.”
