“Oh, come on, enough. Please. I will vomit, and then I’ll be really annoyed, and Mum will have wasted the good food. Just stop, no one wants to hear it.”
“I want to hear it,” I mutter under my breath, trying not to laugh. Bonnie whips her head towards me and glares.
“Not another word, Rory, or you can walk back to where you came from missing your damn loins.”
I sigh in pure bliss because she is just the picture of perfection.
After a long, tense moment, her dad turns and goes back into the house.
Bonnie mutters something else and then turns, facing us. I take her in, really look at her. She’s lost weight; she looks tired, exhausted, and she looks like she’s been crying. I approach her cautiously, and when she doesn’t move away, I lift a hand, cupping her cheek.
“Bonnie, I missed you.”
She stares up at me, her eyes filled with vulnerability and fear. I never want to see her look scared, and I’m going to work every day to make sure that she doesn’t have to look at me like this again.
“I promise you, we are going to make it right. We’re not leaving this time, trust me. Trust us.”
She opens her mouth, and I can see that she wants to protest, but instead, she surges up, pressing her lips to mine. This is what I’ve been missing. I don’t hesitate. I kiss her with all the emotion I’m trying to restrain. I hold her and drown in the peanut butter cookie scent that I want to devour. All the familiar curves that I have dreamed about for weeks now are back in my arms.
“I missed you, too,” she whispers against my lips.
“Come and see our new home?” I ask.
She hesitates again, and I let her slide down and put a foot of distance between us. Vale, Cyn, and Dakota move in around her, touching, breathing her scent in.
“Okay, take me home.”
I wonder if she even noticed what she said just then.
Bonnie
Meg shoves me up the driveway, but I can barely move my legs.
“Come on, girl. Pull out those lady testes, and man up.”
“Ew, and no. This is going to be a disaster. We should sit across the road on deck chairs and watch the explosion from safety.”
Last night, I listened as they explained what they had done and why. I didn’t trust myself to go inside their house, so I stayed on the porch, and we talked until the sun came up.
About everything.
I think they really mean it. They are going to stay. Hope is burning in my chest, and I can’t extinguish it. I don’t even want to.
“Daddy Sanderson isn’t going to kill your babies.”
“Do not call him that, Meg! We’ve had words about this.”
“But I love hearing you gag; it’s my favourite sound.”
“My favourite sound is you choking-”
“On cock?”
“MEG!” I shout.
She laughs and pushes harder, sending us up within sight of the porch, where I can see my four alphas and my mother with her plate of cookies.
You wouldn’t think multiple serial killers live in this house. It’s got a lawn courtesy of my mother’s badgering and tears. Big, lush bushes that give an illusion of privacy, and a single-story home with a bright red door.
