With Creed.
With Riley.
The ride home with them feels so much lighter, and I can tell that it’s not just me feeling it. There’s a renewed sort of glow to Creed, and despite some of the things we learned today, Riley just feels peaceful and content as he dozes off with his head on my shoulder.
Ayla goes over the format of the interview she’s planned and set up, prepping us for the questions that will be asked.
We’re ready.
With this plan in place, I can feel those first warm rays of the sun as it starts to rise, and it feels damn good knowing that I’ve still got my boys by my side to bask in it with me.
Chapter 47
Riley
“KEEP EM IN LINE, SUNSHINE.”
FOUR MONTHS LATER
“HAPPY & FREE: Dark Sins’ Creed St. James, Riley Graves, and their ‘Mystery Girl’ Tell All”
Collins reads the article aloud from her phone as she slides into her chair, carrying a giant bowl of mashed potatoes with one hand before setting it next to all the other food she had prepared for a big family dinner. It’s our last night at home before starting our tour for the better part of three months. Sure, there will be small breaks where we’ll come home periodically, but not enough time to settle back into any kind of routine.
It’s raining its ass off tonight, which is rare for California, so it forced us to move our family dinner indoors instead of our usual outdoor setup.
Creed snorts as he finishes setting out all the dishes around the table.
“Hilarious they still call you that.”
Collins just shakes her head, completely unbothered by the media’s title for her. Creed has a point, though. When we firstcame forward with our own story months ago, they knew who she was.
“I don’t mind it,” she says, still scrolling with a ghost of a smile on her lips, her septum ring glinting in the light. Stealing a roasted pepper from the end of the kebabs she made, she mutters, “Better than anything else they could’ve come up with. People can be nasty sometimes.”
She’s not wrong about that.
This particular article, however, focuses more heavily on the positivity that comes from being open about our polycule. The world is more inclusive than it used to be, but fans ofDark Sinsare nosy as fuck, so naturally, they were curious as to how this ‘mystery girl’ managed to land two boyfriends in the same band. To say they were pleasantly surprised to find out that Creed and I are alsotogethertogether is a massive understatement.
‘Boyfriends who are boyfriends’ is how they described it.
I’ve always been a private person, so going public with so many details about my personal life was a bit of an adjustment. Luckily, it did get easier with the general crowd acceptance of our relationship after our first article was published. The primary focus behind that particular interview was to focus on Guy and address our scars to get ahead of the narrative.
First, officials were tipped off anonymously to Guy’s probable whereabouts, where the contract killer hired by the McTavish brothers had painted averycolorful picture of his death. For a while, Guy was the topic of every news station and podcast, because just as promised, more attention was drawn to the fact that it was theCupid Killerwho had done it, which in turn caused people to wonderwhy.If Guy was such an upstanding citizen, why would he be targeted by a man who kills the worst of the worst in the world?
This caused an uproar and a deep dive into Guy’s private life. His wife was somehow miraculously found and questioned,which led to the discovery of the therapist that he’d killed. That’s when Collins and I took our cue to make our stand.
Our interview was constructed to look like an investigative reporter asking questions, but Ayla curated the whole thing. Premeditated, meticulously crafted questions allowed us to tell our story from start to finish the way we wanted to.
It was hard, having to recount the time spent in captivity, trapped under his roof, and the abuse we survived. Collins was incredible, though. She’s so fucking strong because she never wavered or drifted when the time came to talk about our time in captivity together.
While things between the three of us have never been better, our own personal battles are clearly nonlinear. We all have our struggles still, but therapy has given each of us mechanisms and tools to use to help one another as well as ourselves.
Creed watches with pride as I carry the heavy casserole dish across the kitchen and set it down onto the table with almost no tremors. Wilder gave me his seal of approval last month to stop therapy so long as I continued with exercises specifically for my hands once a week. A lot of my tremors now come from the neurological damage done when I had sepsis. Knowing how to channel my thoughts and emotions helped to minimize that radically.
Tattooed arms snake around my middle from behind and tug me back until I’m flush with Creed’s hard chest. His leather and citrus scent washes over me, and I sigh into him, rubbing my hands over the top of his. Receiving affection from Creed has never been an issue, but he’s doubled down from the moment I started initiating and eagerly reciprocating the contact. It’s like a proverbial green light went off in his head, and he’s all hands on deck…literally.
“Look at this fucking feast, baby,” he hums, kissing my neck. I tilt my head to give him better access. “Our girl did so good, didn’t she?”
Collins looks up from the article she’s reading and blushes as she pushes to stand. “This is a huge moment for us, for the band,” she explains, skirting around the table and shuffling up to where we stand in the corner of the room. “I just want to have one last family meal here before it’s back to road chaos and hectic schedules.”
