He didn’t look convinced.
“Really,” I smiled at him, putting every bit of warmth I could gather into the look, “I’m fine.”
He nodded, relieved, and began walking. Fallon appeared next to us then, as if he’d been hanging back to give us a private moment. Panic began to rise inside me again as the front door grew closer. I curled tighter into Kane’s body, his heartbeat becoming a steadying rhythm beneath my ear.
“Tell me something new about cars,” I said softly, remembering our endless hospital conversations and looking for any subject to take my mind off things
“Like what?” Kane glanced down, then back up to watch where he was going.
“That Mustang you restored when you were nineteen. You said you’d tell me how you replaced the entire exhaust system yourself."
Kane let out a deep, throaty chuckle that vibrated through his chest and into mine. "I ramble when I'm nervous," he admitted, “mostly about cars.”
I thought for a moment, his words registering. "So, in the hospital, I must have been making you really nervous."
His expression softened, the slightest hint of smile changing the shape of his mouth. "From the minute you stepped onto the property in that silly suit, you've been making me nervous, Lucy."
The simple honesty stole my breath. No artifice, no bravado, just unfiltered truth.
Fallon mounted the steps and reached the door before us. He made quick work of pushing the entrance wide open and stepping aside.
And then I saw them.
Standing just inside, arranged in the entryway that opened to the living room. Nitro, auburn hair messier than ever. Asher, bright blue eyes cutting across the distance between us. And Xander very nearly smiling.
They were all here…
For me.
Not at the Cirque. Not handling business or chasing adrenaline or whatever else these men did with their time. But here to welcome me back.
I’d stopped myself from crying so many times, but the dam broke inside me now. Emotions too powerful to name seemed to violently exit my body. An exorcism of grief, doubt, longing, hope. Would they see me as weak again? It didn’t matter. I didn't have the strength to fight my own feelings.
The first tear slipped down my cheek, then another, and another, until they flowed freely. I didn't turn away or hide my face against Kane's chest. I didn't apologize for the display of weakness. I just let the tears come.
I let myself feel the overwhelming everything of what it means to be alive.
"Hey," Kane whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "It's okay, Lucy. You're home now."
Home. There was that word again. It echoed in my mind as I looked at these five men. They’d hated me and hurt me. Now, against all odds, it felt like they were trying to save me. It felt like there was a space in their lives that might, someday, become my own.
Home is a four-letter word.
Like hate.
It’s also a four-letter word like live and love.
KANE.
Carrying Lucy felt like holding a live bomb. Only I was the one with the lit fuse.
Every part of me was hyper-aware of her slight weight, the delicate curve of her spine against my forearm, the soft sound of her breathing, the way she tucked herself closer, pressing her cheek against my chest.
Sunflowers. Daisies. Clean cotton. Lemonade. An undercurrent of anxiety. Her Omega perfume clouded the air around us, making my inner Alpha pace restlessly beneath my skin.Mine. She belongs to me. Here. I won’t ever let her leave.The words pulsed through my bloodstream with each heartbeat.Mine to protect. Mine to cherish. Mine to...No.Ours.But damn if part of me didn't want to turn around, head toward the garageinstead of the front door, and steal a few precious moments alone with her before sharing her with my damn brothers.
I hesitated at the threshold as Fallon held the door open. For a split second, I seriously considered it—breaking ranks, carrying her to my private sanctuary among the tools and engine parts. But then she’d sucked in a breath of surprise, those gold-flecked green eyes widening as she spotted my brothers waiting inside, and her scent lost its anxious edge, becoming all sweetness. The tears that followed made my chest tighten painfully.
I'd spent the past two weeks rambling like an idiot at her bedside, bombarding her with stories about everything from my first motorcycle to the finer points of engine maintenance. Anything to distract her from the beeping machines, the prodding doctors, the confinement that reminded her too much of her past. Anything to see that small smile curve her lips when I said something particularly ridiculous.
