I hold up a finger. “Actually, he would. My uncle is greedy and arrogant. He knows that I know he’s been stealing from me, but his ego will never allow him to believe that I’m smart enough to follow the money trail. And he’s right. I wouldn’t know where to begin to find the proof. But I’m also disgustingly rich, which means I have a lot of resources at my disposal. I can end him with a phone call, and I wouldn’t have to lift a finger beyond that.”
“But all that does is put him in prison. I thought you wanted him dead,” Thorin says with a narrowed gaze.
“I do. And he will be. You just have to trust that I know my uncle better than anyone.” I don’t say more than that though because if my mountain me knew just how badly my uncle will react to being bested by his “dumb little niece” they’d never take the risk of me getting hurt.
So I make the call first thing in the morning, and I set the wheels in motion.
A few days later, the news of my uncle’s petition gets out, and the curiosity and enchantment people once had for my mountain men turn into half-baked theories and suspicion. The paparazzi have been even more relentless than usual.
“Aurelia! Aurelia! Can you comment on where you were last year?”
“Aurelia! What is the relationship between you and your bodyguards?”
“Aurelia! Blink if you need us to call the police!”
One even manages to sneak into the apartment building and catches me coming from the gym after yoga. Thorin snatched his camera, and I barely managed to stop him from using it to bash his face in. Instead, he broke it and then told the man to bill him.
Meanwhile, my uncle is living it up in Vegas, no doubt celebrating his impending win and control over me once more. It’s been a stressful few days, and when my blood pressure spikes, Khalil has the bright idea for us to get away. There aren’t many places I can go where I can hide, but the guys know of one that would do everyone some good.
They decide to take me home.
Home—where Khalil can finally see his parents again, and I can hide somewhere for a few days of peace. A town that almost sounds too good to be true.
It’s how we end up in Six Forks.
The town of Six Forks is tucked within the desert landscape of Nevada. I’m instantly enchanted with it when I slide out of the rental and onto the driveway of the one-story bungalow. The couple standing together on the porch give me pause though, and I glance up at Khalil to see him just as uncertain, so I shove down my own anxiety at meeting his parents and I take his hand. Khalil lets me guide him toward the house and up the wide front steps.
I feel his parents’ curious gazes on me, but when I try to step back out of view and join Thorin and Seth at the bottom of the steps, Khalil’s hand tightens around mine and I remember my promise to be right there with him.
So I stay, and we face off against his parents together.
His mom, who resembles Khalil so much, even down to the coloring, is the first of us to move or speak. I feel Khalil tense up beside me as she comes to stand in front of him, her head onlyreaching his shoulder as she lifts a hand up toward his face and rests her palm on his cheek.
“Hey, Ma.”
His mother’s eyes are pained but warm as she stares up at her son, taking in everything that wasn’t there the last time she saw him. “Did you get it done, son? Whatever it was you needed to do?”
“Yes,” Khalil answers on a broken whisper. “It’s done. It’s over.”
His father, still dressed in a dusty white T-shirt and worn jeans from his construction company, is even taller than Khalil. He’s a commanding and burly man with a salt-and-pepper beard and focused eyes. He steps forward and pulls his son into his arms, and they do the manly clap thing before the older man leans in to kiss his son’s cheek. “Then welcome home, boy.”
“I don’t want to drive the knife in deeper,” I say later that night as I shuffle on my knees toward the head of Khalil’s bed, the mattress springs squeaking loudly as I go, “but your parents were definitely more excited to meet me than they were to see you.”
Khalil cackles but doesn’t deny it as he finishes snapping on his skullcap to protect the fresh stitch braids I gave him before we left LA. He then gently pulls me down to sit next to him while I lean into him and lay my head on his strong shoulder. His scent wafts over me, immediately calming me. Khalil always smells so good—a little sweet, a little spicy, and minty.
“Well,youdidn’t disappear without a word for ten years, so you have that going for you. And also, you’re famous. I thinkthey were a little starstruck. My mom and pops are happy to see that I’m alive, but they’re not too thrilled with me right now.”
I stare at the wall of posters Khalil collected as a teen. “I’ve never seen anyone get cussed out for that long.” It was truly a sight to behold. After the warm welcome, his parents immediately went in on Khalil’s ass—cursing their grown son out six ways to Sunday, and when one got winded, the other took over like a well-oiled parenting machine. “You think they’re weirded out about you being in a four-way relationship?” I ask. “Honestly, they didn’t seem all that surprised.Confused, but not surprised.”
“Thorin, Zeke, and I have always been weirdly close, and I disappeared with them for ten years. My parents probably don’t feel like they even know me anymore.”
“They’re your parents,” I remind him. “No one knows you better. They’re probably just worried that if they show too much concern, they’ll drive you away when they just got you back. You should talk to them about it. Ease their minds and help them understand so that they don’t have to worry about you any more than they already are.”
“When did you get to be so wise?”
“I think it’s all the baby juice I’ve got pumping in these veins. I think it’s altering my brain.”
Khalil snorts, and then his eyes widen slightly when I stare up at him seriously. “Really?”
