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I need her to gather the essentials I may have missed, like her stacked potions of skincare or her red lipsticks.

As we head into the house, I place her down on her feet, and there’s a knock at the door. I’m not expecting anyone. They all know we’re leaving later.

Not unless it’s Xander; he might need some help on one of the pastures.

Opening up the door, I’m greeted by Tate. Without thinking, I grab hold of him and shove my arms around him. “Don’t go dying on me again, Tate.”

He laughs, pulling back, and it visibly hurts him to do so. Jett is behind him, chewing on his lip. I’ve never seen him this quiet. Tate being taken dragged back the darkest version of Jett. And I ain’t sure that’s a good thing.

“I wanted to see Gianna before you go. If she's up for visitors?” Tate says.

I open the door wider, but Gianna is already by my side. The air shifts around us; I don’t know what exactly went down in those prison cells. I saw the aftermath.

“I told you it was a scratch,” Gianna says, full of sass.

Jett's eyes go wide, and Tate bursts into laughter, holding onto the doorframe to keep him up. “If I walk with a limp for the rest of my life, do I get to return the favor?” he asks.

“Hell fuckin’ no,” I answer.

G taps me on the bicep, and I step aside.

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I’m sorry my family put you through that, and I’m sorry I stabbed you to save our lives,” Gianna says, full of sincerity.

Tate nods, taking a step closer, holding out his hand. His knuckles are cut to shit. His eye is still swollen almost shut. “Gianna, I was coming here to thank you. If you didn’t do what you did, the guards would have killed me, or Tomasso would have. You kept me alive, and then you ran for help.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

She gave herself up to her uncles to try and save us all. But I don’t say that; it’s not my story to tell, and Gianna doesn’t want the praise. She wants to forget and move forward.

To my surprise, Gianna wraps her arms carefully around Tate, and he returns the embrace.

“You’re one of us, Gianna,” Tate whispers, but I still hear it.

I nod to Jett, trying to gauge his headspace. Something is eating at him, and I ain’t sure if it is Tate. He’s got that look, staring off into the distance, which means he’s thinking.

As Gianna pulls back, she places her hand on his shoulder and whispers, “I’ll find the girl if you want me to.”

I keep my expression neutral, pretending I heard nothing.

Tate shakes his head. “Forget I ever said her name, G.”

Gianna shrugs and backs away, pressing herself to my side.

“We’re organizing a big family barbecue for when you’re home,” Jett interjects.

“Hey, Jett. How long am I going away for?” Gianna asks mischievously.

I shoot Jett a glare, reminding him that the word surprise was exclusively used. Jett's face drops and he backs away down the steps, his hands in the air. “I’m going to shut my mouth,” he says, making Gianna laugh.

“Dammit,” she mutters.

“Good try, baby. Good try.”

Just as Tate makes it down the steps, Wyatt is charging at Jett. “Jett! You didn’t close the door; Gary got out, and daddy is really angry at you,” he calls out.

Resting my arm over G’s shoulder, I watch on as Jett picks up my nephew. For someone so insane, he’s the one I would say would make the best dad. I’ve recently watched him with Violet's little boy, Noah. That ain’t even his flesh and blood, and he loves that boy.

He’s the same with Wyatt and Willow.