“Oh, uhh, I know. That’s not why I stayed, I’m here to help with your stuff.” His eyes dart around my body, noticing the lack of “stuff” he’s so keen to help with. “Is that seriously all you have? Just one suitcase?”
My shoulders shrug as I start my walk to the main office with him in tow. “With the life I live, you don’t keep much on you. The more stuff there is, the longer it takes to collect or you end up missing something in a rush.”
His expression darkens, curiosity wanting him to push for more information. Eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down, he stays silent, which I’m grateful for.It’s going to be hard enough keeping everything from them in normal conversations, let alone when they’re breathing down my neck.
My gaze stays forward as we approach the office doors and I hand my suitcase over for him to hold. He’s still watching me, checking to see if my face will give anything away, but I’m practiced. My expression is stoic, collected. My skin, practically made of stone.
“I’ll be right back,” I murmur before heading inside.
This time, the same woman who was here my first night is already behind the desk. She looks wary, her eyes darting between me and Ryder when I mentioned needing to check-out early. Glancing over my shoulder, I can see why she’s apprehensive. Ry stands just outside the glass door, muscular arms crossed over his chest and a scowl across his face. He looks like a thug ready to burn down the world over a stubbed toe.
“No problem. We can do that for you, Ma’am,” she states, forcing a smile upon her face.
Her hands move, busying themselves with the paperwork involved in an early check-out, but it’s stiff, almost robotic. Once everything has been sorted, she leans over the counter pointing to where I need to sign and initial. As she hands me the pen, her hand cups mine and my eyes dart up to meet hers.
“Are you okay, sweetheart? Do you need me to call someone for you?” she whispers, glancing again at a waiting Ry before coming back to me.
“Oh, him? No, no, thank you though. He’s a friend of mine who I didn’t know was in town.” My hand pats hers, watching as her shoulders relax and her jaw unclenches. “Thank you, you’re very kind to offer help.”
The people I’m used to dealing with have no kindness left in them. Their kill or be killed nature has fully taken over, the instinct for survival outweighing basic human decency. That is the path I’ve tried so hard to fight against. To prevent the darkness from consuming me whole and pushing me down the same way. Forgetting what it’s like to have compassion and kindness for others as it gets replaced by the cold talons of mistrust and deceit.
With a soft smile, I head back out and straight for the guys’ vehicle. Zane, Max, and Kade are all in various stages of leaning against a dark blue SUV, on the farside of the lot. The very same one that I was retreating from, mere hours ago, when they found me.
Well shit. Set myself up for failure there I suppose.
The moment we approach, Ry climbs in behind the wheel as Z holds the door open for me. Kade puts my belongings in the trunk, before shoving Max out of the way to claim the spot beside me.
“Hey!” he whines, grumbling about having to sit in the back before climbing into the third row.
“You snooze, you lose, Maxxy!” Kade chimes, reaching around me to pull my seat belt into place.
The drive to wherever they live is quiet, with the exception of some smaller conversations between the guys. I, for the most part, have been watching out the window. Mapping my directions and memorizing the route they take.
Before long, the edge of the city nears. The streets are getting less dense, and the houses much larger.
“Uhh, where are we going? I thought you said you live here?” I ask no one specifically.
“We do, Bear. Just on theoutskirtsof Miami. The suburbs if you will,” replies Zane with a smirk. The grin he’s sporting tells me there is more to “living in the suburbs” then he’s letting on, and my brow quirks in question.
The trip lasts for another ten minutes before Ryder is pulling off the main road onto a smaller side one. The paved path spreads out into a round-a-bout with several gated driveways surrounding it, like how I used to draw the sun as a child. Three sun rays up, Ry pulls up to a black, wrought iron gate and rolls down his window, placing his thumb against a singular free-standing box. The gate lurches, hinges creaking, as it slowly swings open to let us pass.
“Welcome home, Bear.” Max coos, slapping me on the shoulder from the back seat.
The vehicle stops just short of a large garage door, before Ryder kills the engine and begins to hop out. Kade follows suit, holding out his hand for me once his feet touch the pavement. I grab it, jumping out behind him and straightening my jacket. My eyes roam as I round the trunk, nearly falling out of my head the minute the actual house comes into view.
They live in a fucking castle?!
With both Ry and Z as professional fighters, I wasn’t deluded enough to think they didn’t have some amount of money, but this, this is…wow. My short ass has to crane my neck just to see the roof of this enormous three-story building. Nevermind the fact that it would take an hour to walk the damn outside. Who cleans this place?!
As my feet take me forward, reality starts to settle in, reminding me just how different our lives are now. The vast gap between their fortress of bro-titude, filled with all their trinkets and trophies, and the single bed, single suitcase I’ve gotten used to.
My boys grew up. They got to learn and have experiences. To try and fail as they figured out what they loved to do and then chase that dream. Made something of themselves, to the whole wide watching world—amassing large amounts of possessions and wealth. Now, Ryder's comment about only having one suitcase makes much more sense. They don’t know what it’s like to go with absolutely nothing, at least not any more.
The knowledge of that settles deep within my heart, as I follow Zane through the comically large oak doors. Inside the house has the same vibes as the exterior, extravagance and luxury—with less brick. The decor is tasteful, judging from the little I can see of it, reminding me a lot of how their parents decorated. The dark hues and slivers of silver, a signature of Ryder’s mom. Dark wood furniture was a staple in the Mathers household. A bold colored accent wall—that’s an eerily similar shade to Kade’s parents kitchen—is directly across from the entrance, with worn leather couches I could swear came straight out of Max’s garage, pushed against it.
It’s perfect. It’s all of them. A unique mix of them and their parent’s tastes.
Speaking of parents, I’ll have to ask what they’ve been up to.
