“She’s not that bad,” Ryker said, clearly enjoying this.
“Not that bad?” Axel’s voice pitched up. “Last week, she stared at me for forty-five minutes straight. Didn’t blink. I timed it.”
Rainbow reached him and sat directly on his foot. Then she looked up at him adoringly.
And farted.
The sound was impressive. The smell was biological warfare.
“Jesus Christ!” Axel yanked his foot back. “She sharted on my new shoes! That’s the second pair this week!”
He stormed toward the sink while Rainbow trotted after him, barking happily, tail wagging like she’d just performed a great service.
“I think she’s marking her territory,” Faith said.
“I think she’s a goddamn menace.”
I watched Axel scrub at his shoe while Rainbow sat at his feet, gazing up at him with what could only be described as pure devotion. Something loosened in my chest.
This. This was what I’d missed.
Not just the people, but the chaos. The noise. The freedom to stand here and laugh at my friend getting crop-dusted by a mutant dog without someone telling us to keep it down.
My eyes drifted to my parents in the corner. My father’s arm was around my mother’s shoulders, and they were both watching me laugh. Not saying anything. Just watching.
Fourteen years they’d waited for exactly this. Their son, standing in a room full of people who loved him, with nowhere else he had to be.
I looked away before I fell apart.
“For the record,” I said, pulling the room’s attention back, “I never properly thanked you all. For sticking by me.”
The words felt strange in my mouth. Heavy. I wasn’t good at this part.
Axel looked up from the sink, making a gagging sound. “Oh God. Don’t tell me prison made you soft.”
“I’m just thanking you.”
“You’re getting all mushy and weird.” He dried his hands and walked back over. “Please go back to being the tattooed asshole behind bars. At least he was entertaining.”
“Axel”—Blake shook his head—“you’re nothing if not a constant dick.”
Axel winked. “You love it. And we’re not the mushy-gushy type. So, put your heart back in your chest and act normal.”
A chuckle escaped me. He wasn’t wrong.
“For the record,” Jace said, “we never would have left your side. You know that.”
“Faith, stop staring at your old bungalow.” Ryker smirked. Faith was standing near the side window, looking at the house next door that, evidently, she used to call home.
“It’s nostalgic. That’s where I brought Rainbow home when I rescued her. And where I met Harper.” She smiled, eyes dropping to the ground below. “And kids still cut through the yards. Look at the footprints in the mud.” Her voice went soft. “I love that nothing’s changed.”
“Speaking of change,” Axel announced, “we got you a gift.”
He shoved a gift bag into my chest before I could respond. The bag had a cartoon character on it, wearing black-and-white prison stripes, running from two cops with exaggerated expressions.
I stared at it.
“I knew we shouldn’t have let Axel pick the bag,” Jace muttered.
