Dante’s big hands grip my biceps, effectively holding me up when my knees threaten to sweep out from under me. If Jacob is pinned with the murders of two senators, he’s never getting out, he’s never cominghome. He has to come home. Him being the fall guy for us was never actually in the cards because we have contingencies, backups on backups, and Hayden’s plans are always foolproof.
“Parker, it’s all right. Alexis won’t let him go to prison…” Dante trails off when I stare blankly at him.
“I have to talk to Hayden.”
Dante shakes his head, clearly refusing me. “Nope, not tonight. You’ll say the wrong thing and Hayden’s…” Dante looks over his shoulder to where Hayden sits disassociated and distraught, injured hand hanging limply over the arm of the chair he’s in. “I think we should all go to bed and figure everything out in the morning.”
“You need to take showers…” I mumble, dead inside but still thinking of Mason.
“We’ll figure it out. Go upstairs to Mason.”
It says everything that I don’t have the energy to argue.
The lights are off when I push into Mason’s room, but the slight shape of him is easy to spot in the middle of the bed. I toss my shirt to the ground because I need his skin against mine to feel like I’m a real person. The moment I’m horizontal, Mason presses into me with a happy little huff that warms my broken heart. Dancing my hand up and down his spine, I tuck my face into his neck, breathing him in and listening to his quiet sleep-fueled sounds.
I protected Mason but lost Jacob, and I don’t know what that says about me. I don’t know what it means that I’m thankful to hold Mason in my arms, settled in my soul, but feel like a failure because Jacob isn’t sleeping a few houses down. I don’t know what to do, and that’s not a feeling I’m used to. That’s how I fall asleep, wondering if I’ll ever figure out the answer.
CHAPTER 11
MASON
Last night was a shit show. I mean, how did that even happen? These guys have been doing this for years and suddenly the night I’m there on the mission, the cops show up. I’m seriously starting to develop a complex. Is this all because ofme? My anxiety says yes, it’s all my fault, Parker is going to realize I’m not worth all this trouble; he’s going to drop me like hot potatoes, then blame me for the rest of his life for his brother being incarcerated in federal prison.
Groaning loudly, I pour the piping hot water from the kettle into my favorite coffee mug. The scent of spearmint and peppermint wafts from the mug in a cloud of comfort. I curl my toes into the tile to settle my errant nerves. Early morning sunlight filters in through the kitchen window, casting shadows around the tile. I take another deep breath and sip at the still too hot tea, leaning the small of my back against the counter as I stare down into the mug.
Parker would never blame me. He’s not like that. But last night his brother did something none of them ever expected. All I can think to do is confess to killing my unclemyself. It would solve one problem but cause a cascade of others. I’m not sure Parker would ever let me if I tried. Plus, prison would likely kill me with the combination of inescapable germs and close quarters. My brain would never recuperate.
“Sup,” Dante calls out as he pads in, hair a mess, shirt rucked up to show off his tattooed abdomen.
“Hello.”
“Your brother isn’t far behind me.” Dante wrinkles his nose when he opens my fridge, probably because all that’s in there are very healthy choices. He dips back to look at me past the fridge door. “You got any eggs? And tortilla wraps? I can make breakfast burritos.”
I shrug. “I definitely have eggs, not sure about tortilla wraps. Help yourself to whatever. Just… wash your hands.”
Dante winks. “Got it.”
The quiet sound of Dante cooking breakfast fills the kitchen. He doesn’t try to make conversation, which is exceedingly kind after the mess that is my brain this morning. I leave him to cook and take a seat at the dining table just as Reid stumbles sleepily down the stairs, hair in a million directions, eyes zeroed in on Dante.
“You’re such a jerk,” Reid mumbles, but he still seeks Dante out for a kiss.
“Yeah, yeah.” Dante grins at the top of Reid’s head when my brother takes a perfectly rolled breakfast burrito.
Reid joins me at the table while biting into the burrito. He smiles weirdly at me, then sneaks a peek at Dante as if afraid to be overheard. Leaning as close as he can without making me uncomfortable, he whispers, “Did Parker sleep in your room last night?”
“Uh.”
Reid squints and finishes off his burrito. “Seriously? Why is it such a secret?”
Because Parker has the perfect timing, he descends the stairs right then, dressed for the day in sleek dress pants and a tight polo that shows off the muscles in his arms. Ignoring the other occupants of the kitchen, he stops beside my chair, resting his hand on the edge so he’s not touching me.
“I took a shower and brushed my teeth,” Parker says with a glimmer in his eyes.
I lean back in the chair, offering my mouth to him for a kiss. He dips down, kisses me softly, like a pair of butterfly wings over my lips, then wanders off to join Dante in the kitchen.
“You let himkissyou?” Reid asks, clearly shocked.
“I think my brain knows his germs and my germs are best friends. He’s kind of hijacked my brain. The things I used to worry about in regard to touch don’t bother me so much anymore. Only when it comes to him though.”
