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Arran

SHE WHAT. I would ask you to run that back for me, but you’ve had a rough week, baby. You go handle that, and I’ll go put the fear of god into Constance. No one has said boo about you around me, except to ask if you’re feeling alright because you walked into a pole the other day.

Ugh. Rough is an understatement.

Arran

Tell Zayn that he did a great job standing up for you. I love you, but I’m still spanking your pussy for not telling me about Constance.

Me

That’s not the punishment you think it is. Love you too.

“Up we go. Arran is going to take care of Constance for us,” I say gathering our stuff.

Zayn’s eyes grow wide and I shake my head. “Not like that, honey. No more true crime shows before bed. Grandpa is taking us to dinner after. Let’s go meet him in the principal’s office.”

If I was a different kind of parent, I’d tell him we should attempt to stay out of trouble, but I’m not. I’m very proud of him, even if I do wish Constance would keep her mouth shut around my kid.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-NINE

NOOR

“Mom, the lights on that house were so pretty,” Zayn says with wide eyes as we climb the stairs. I knew we’d be home late and left the porch lights on. The flood light also turned on as we parked, and I’m ready to get to bed. I’ve amped up the security system since my first date with Ciaran after seeing the holes I had within it, and feel much better about it.

Christmas is in a few days, and Alastair, Draven, and Ciaran will be landing at the San Diego Airport in a couple of hours. They’re staying with Arran, Zayn, and I during the holidays, and will get to see the insanity of my family. Things are progressing really naturally between us all, and Arran and I have had a lot of conversations about how he feels about Ci, Alastair, and Draven.

The answers are always the same: “If you’re happy, I am. The second that changes, so will my easy going attitude toward them.” I refuse to believe that it might be too good to be true because that’s how you tempt fate. I deserve happiness and I’m going to grab it with both hands.

Rachelle and everyone are already at Emil’s, and we’ve been baking cookies all day. It’s been a wonderfully full day of family and fun, and now we’re winding down from it all. We are just getting back from looking at Christmas lights together, and Elijah followed us home. As I unlock the gate, he honks the horn, and I turn and wave at him.

“We’ll see you for breakfast?” he asks, leaning out the window.

“Are we having gluten free gingerbread pancakes?” I ask, pursing my lips as if there’s anywhere else I’d rather be.

“You betcha. Goodnight, Zayn. Take care of your mom,” he calls out.

“Night!”

“Make sure you brush your teeth,” I remind him, pushing open the heavy front door.

“Okay,” Zayn says sleepily. I lock the door behind us as I get him out of his coat, laughing as I turn the lights on at the front of the house. The two of us are involved in a sleepy dance of happy exhaustion, and it takes me way too long to finally glance at the security system. I’m just as tired as Zayn is and yawn as I plug in the code to disarm the system inside of the house. There’s no reason to mess with the exterior when we’re headed right to bed.

I drop my bag on the stairs, amused by how tired we both are as I give my son a hug. My eyes move around the house by rote, used to checking everything, and I freeze as a shadow passes where there shouldn’t be one. Adrenaline floods my veins as I squeeze my son’s arm to get his attention.

Who’s in my house?!

“Baby…”

“Mom, what⁠—”

“Nooopeeeee,” a high pitched voice calls out, poking her head out as if she just popped over to borrow some goddamned sugar. Alexa has a gun loosely held in her hand, and her hair is a box color red. It definitely isn’t her natural hair color, but I’m more concerned about the gun.

Shoving Zayn toward the stairs, I stand in front of them, listening as his feet stomp up them rapidly.

“Keep going!” I yell. “Don’t stop, baby!”