“No, really. All jokes, wisecracks, and sarcasm aside, thank you,” I said, glancing at each of them. “I needed you here tonight. Thanks for showing up.”
“We’ll always show up,” William said, clapping a hand over my shoulder.
“I didn’t expect you’d be here,” I said. “I thought you’d be swatting away cat-sized mosquitoes in the middle of some jungle god forgot about, immunizing orphans or something.”
“I was,” he answered. “We just got back earlier today. So your timing was impeccable for making a Hayward 911 call.”
“And do I want to know how the three of you got here so fast?” I didn’t care, but I guessed it was a good story.
I heard the grin in William’s voice. “You know that private jet you suspected I had?”
“That you never actually confirmed.” I slugged his arm—he’d been holding out on me.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say she’s fast and her pilot has this need for speed gene that runs in the family.”
“You bad-ass you,” I said, splitting through traffic like the man with a mission I was. I knew I had limited time with Emma, hours limited, and as much as I loved my brothers, I’d spent two centuries with them. I wanted to spend my last few hours with the girl I loved in my arms.
“How lovely for you two to be having a bonding moment up there,” Joseph said, hating nothing more than being left out, as his face popped in the space between William and me. “But I want to know who the banged up dude we were just playing The Punisher for is.”
“You’re a persistent little guy, you know that?” I said, pushing his face back. “I’m going to say this once and quickly. You can get the rest of the details out of the other parties involved if you’re so moved,” I began, swinging into the right hand lane as my exit seemed to pop out of nowhere. That had a tendency of happening when you were cruising at a hundred and twenty with three brothers that had a way of distracting you from your best intentions.
“The Frankenmummy used to be my girlfriend’s boyfriend.” I smiled at William from the side at the word girlfriend, wagging my brows. It was the first time I’d used the word in the possessive form. “He beat her for five years before almost killing her tonight when she broke up with him. Emma—that’s my girl’s name,” I explained proudly, “has three brothers, and they were the ones that created the masterpiece you had the privilege of viewing tonight. For reasons that are extensive and rather inconsequential, I’m going to be taking the heat for the manslaughter miss. Ty’s on board, Emma’s brothers are, and I’m assuming, based on the fact I’ll kick all your asses if you’re not, all of you are on board.” I pointed at each of them with my eyes. “I just have one woman to convince.”
The trio of brothers around me erupted in laughter, Joseph guffawing in stomach clenching fits. “Yeah, good luck with that, Patrick.”
“Here we thought you were the one that knew everything there was to know about women,” Nathanial chuckled in his baritone tenor. “There’s a higher likelihood of you calling mercy when I’ve got you locked in an arm bar than you have of convincing a woman of something she doesn’t want to be convinced of.”
I slammed the brakes at the bottom of the ramp, hoping it would startle their laughter away. No can do.
“I’ve never, nor will I ever, call mercy because your arm bars are easier to get out of than Rumpelstiltskin’s here”—I pointed my finger at the youngest Hayward brother—“left armed choker hold’s”—Nathanial’s face went from pissed to mega pissed—“and Emma is different than other women. She’ll understand.”
“Sure she will,” Joseph smirked, massaging my shoulders like he was preparing me for a boxing match. “Good luck with that, champ. Let us know how it goes.”
Tearing away at the last few miles towards Emma, I found myself checking the rear view mirror for blinking red and blue lights. Whatever I was sentenced to, I was more troubled by the idea the blues would get to me before I got to Emma. I had to see her, touch her, one more time before I did some hard or soft time.
“Hey, you guys wouldn’t happen to know where I could find myself a badass attorney with an unheard of win ratio, would you?”
Nathanial grunted. “Because you’re my brother, I’ll defend you, but because you are my brother, I’m charging you double.”
“You still owe me from that snafu you found yourself in a few years back in Serbia,” I argued.
“It wasn’t a snafu,” Nathanial said, his voice tight. “And nothing I couldn’t handle minus one brother on a perpetual ego trip.”
“Boy, I’ve sure missed you guys,” I said, pulling into the driveway. “It’s been too peaceful without the three of you around to gang up on me.”
I cut the engine, noticing the blinds moving as someone peeked out. “All right, boys. Be on your best behavior. You’re about to meet my future wife,” I said, shutting the door behind me and turning into a double wide sized chest.
“What are you playing at, Patrick?” Nathanial growled low in my face, glaring at me. “When Joseph told me you were seeing a girl from school”—I threw the traitor baby of the family a glare—“I didn’t take it seriously since none of your relationships, and I use the term relationship loosely, get anywhere close to serious. But this one’s obviously crossed that line.” He was still growling as he tilted his head to the house where she was somewhere inside. “She’s a Mortal and, last time I checked, our kind is not allowed to fraternize, let alone Unite, with one.”
I shoved him away from me. “William did it.”
“That was different,” Nathanial replied, stepping back into the space I’d created.
“Why?” I hissed. “Because he was having wet dreams of Bryn for generations?” I shoved him again, taking my anger at the intricacies and impossible rules of my kind out on my bear of a brother.
Then I realized what I’d said. I looked over the roof of the car at William. “Sorry, no disrespect to you or Bryn. I’m just pissed at pious Zeus over here.”
William waved a dismissive hand, trying to keep from laughing. At least someone had a sense of humor other than me.
“It will all work out,” I said, staring at nothing in particular.
Nathanial grunted. “Classic Patrick justification for doing something you know isn’t right.”
“Classic Patrick solution,” I annunciated, looking up into the lined face of my brother, wondering why everyone thought we looked so much alike. He looked like a hulking, angry troll ninety percent of the time. “It will work. Stay tuned and enjoy the show because I can’t wait to say I told you so when all’s said and done.”
“Nothing is ever said and done with you,” Nathanial replied, blocking my path when I tried to move away from him. I could have teleported to get away, but he’d thrown down a silent challenge and that was something I never ran—or teleported—away from. I’d stand square in front of him until I’d worn him down.
“Back me up on this, William,” I said, knowing he was the only one who could understand what it felt like to want something more than anything else you’d ever wanted, only to be told it could never be yours. Neither of us were the kind of man that were subservient enough to let that pass.
“Leave him alone,” William said in his ever calm voice. “He’s got this.”
Pausing, he let that settle between the group of us before continuing. “Can anyone think of a single time Patrick has ever failed at something he set out to do?” he asked, boring his eyes into Nathanial and then Joseph. “Can anyone think of a time Patrick has ever let us down? Can anyone think of anything Patrick has done that has earned him anything but a future of happiness?”
Our eyes locked for only a moment, but it was a powerful one. This was the reason I, and the other two brothers, idolized William. He was a god who’d been born to mankind. Lucky for me, he was on my side.
“Let him run the show. I, for one, will be there to provide whatever support you need. Just say the word, and I’m there,” he said, nodding.
“Bryn, too.”
This time when I moved to get around Nathanial, he didn’t block me. Nothing like one of William’s speeches to make the stubborn headed see reason.
“Hey, brother,” I said, grabbing him in a tight embrace and swinging him around. “Have I told you lately that I love you?” I crooned, covering my hand with my heart. “Have I told you, there’s no one else above you?” I continued, singing like I was performing in a sold-out stadium.
“Ugh,” Joseph said, coming up behind me and clamping a hand over my mouth. “That’s a Hell on Wheels song and we are no longer on wheels, so please, save us the hell.”
I broke his hold and caught him in a neck lock, mussing his hair because it looked better than mine for the first time in eternity and I couldn’t have that.
“Come on,” I said, throwing my other arm around William’s neck, messing his hair too because his always looked good and he thought product was a term associated with economics. “You guys are going to love Emma.”
“That reminds me,” William said, flipping his hair back once I was done faux-hawking it. “Bryn says she expects to meet the girl who took her place in your heart. Soon. Dinner tomorrow night soon.”
“I think I’ll be eating from a metal tray in an orange jumpsuit tomorrow night,” I said, making a face because orange did not compliment me. “We’ll do dinner when I’m out. Although we’ll probably have to do it here since I doubt my parole will allow for out-of-state dinners with family.”
Joseph elbowed me. “Like trivial things such as breaking laws has ever stopped you before.”
“Yeah, before,” I said, walking up the pathway, not really caring if Nathanial followed or not. He could stay on the driveway and pout the night out if he wanted. “But now I’ve got Emma. I’ve got responsibilities.”
“Holy crap,” Joseph hollered, slapping his knee. “It took him two hundred years, but he finally grew up.”
I stuck my tongue out at him as we stepped up onto the porch. “Yeah, well, you’re ugly.”
“Burn,” Joseph deadpanned, pushing me against the door. It was open just enough I toppled inside, sliding across the wood floors a few feet before my shoulder rammed into a blood free pair of jeans.
“Hey, Tex,” I said, looking up.
“You sure know how to make an entrance,” he said, looking down at me like he could squash me, before extending his hand and helping me up.
“It’s a middle child thing,” I said, hopping to a stand. Looking back at my brothers filtering into the room, I decided now was the time to get the introductions out of the way.
“This is Tex,”—he tilted his chin at the Haywards behind me—“that’s Dallas,” I pointed at the tower leaning against the counter with arms crossed, “and that’s Austin.” I motioned to the Scarlett who was looking a little worse for wear, a little regretful, and a lot sick to his stomach.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a swaying motion approach from down the hall. I was grinning like Joseph by the time I turned to her and was laughing for some reason—love had made me kind of mad—as I jogged over to her. I forgot about the six brothers between us staring at each other in the kitchen, I forgot about the cops coming to get me sometime in the near future, I forgot about the world. Except for ours. That would go with me wherever I went.
“Did Doctor Grey make me all pretty for you?” she asked, smiling at me.
“Radiant,” I answered, resting my hands on her face, not seeing past the bruises and bandages, but seeing the strength and mercy in them. Ty could have killed her, he nearly did, but by the hand of God or the hand of fate, he hadn’t. And it was the first and last thing I’d be thankful to him for.
“Come here,” I said, pressing a soft kiss into her swollen lips. “I want to introduce you to some guys I know.”
As we rounded the corner in full view of my brothers, I remembered again why it was I’d give my life for any of them. They all took one long look at Emma, not missing one thing, and smiled.
There wasn’t a pause in response as they squirmed from the bruises, there wasn’t a slant of pity in their eyes for the battered girl bandaged before them, there wasn’t a single line of disapproval on any of their foreheads, not even Nathanial, although I knew he disapproved of this for one reason. There was nothing but acceptance.
A stroke of eureka occurred right then. Against everything I’d always been told and believed about perfection not being a providence of this fallen world, I knew in my heart just then that was only partly true. There weren’t perfect people, nor were there perfect lives or perfect relationships. There were, however, perfect moments. And this was one of them.
“Emma,” I said, keeping her tucked to my side, “meet my brothers. Brothers, meet Emma.”
Emma lifted her hand and made a wave. “Nice to meet you, brothers,” she said, staring at them like they were at her.
I leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You can stop gawking now. I know they’re not bad to look at, but they’re married men with territorial, uber jealous wives.”
Turning her head so her lips were in line with mine, she whispered, “I wasn’t gawking. I was just noticing how I wound up with the hottest one.”
I kissed her, not caring that I was making three brothers uncomfortable and three brothers aggravated. “Lord knows I don’t need the boost, but you are good for my ego, woman,” I said, a tad flushed and more than a tad breathless.
Stepping forward from the kitchen trenches, William approached us. “We’re also called Nathanial, Joseph,”—he pointed at the corresponding brother—“and I’m William. Although Patrick has a good many other names for me that I hope he won’t share with you.”
Emma extended her hand and William did something that was remarkably out of character for him. He stepped around her extended hand and hugged her, something he only shared with another female if she was in his family. He knew, he accepted it. Only a variable amount of time and two exchanged vows kept Emma out of the Hayward clan.
“Nice to meet you all,” she said as William wound his way out of her arms. “Finally,” she added, elbowing me in the side. “I assumed Patrick was lying about his family or he came from some clan of supernatural creatures that would kill me if I discovered their existence.”
Nathanial made a solo note, low-pitched, sharp laugh. “How imaginative.”
“I’m sorry to be abrupt,” Emma said suddenly to my brothers before looking at me, “but they didn’t tell me a single thing on our way here. Tex said you’d be the one to do all the explaining, and I’m afraid the suspense is killing me as to why we’re all here.” Her face formed with the worry that wouldn’t soon leave it if we slid down the explanation rabbit hole.
“Would you guys excuse us for a while?” I addressed the room with an invisible line drawn between the Haywards and Scarletts. “Just, eh, make yourselves comfortable.”
Grabbing Emma’s hand in mine, I headed for the balcony for the illusion of privacy. It wouldn’t have mattered if we were two houses down—if my brothers wanted to eavesdrop on our conversation, they could, and knowing Joseph and his expecting this whole convincing Emma thing to be a flop, he’d be hanging on every word.
Sliding the door closed behind us, I didn’t think about what I was doing until I was kissing her, bracing her against the railing, moving my mouth against hers not as softly as I should have, but not as roughly as I wanted.
I didn’t really care if her brothers were watching and about to kick my butt, and I didn’t care if my brothers were watching and disapproving of every last forbidden Mortal fraternization kiss, I only cared that this was what I had to do right now.
Some instances were created ages before the beings involved in it were even born. This was one of those instances. Me kissing Emma, Emma kissing me, like history had been building it up since the world’s inception.
I could have said this was something of a “good” kiss, but there weren’t words, least of all “good.”
“Goodness gr
acious,” she whispered, breathing short when I pulled away just enough to still feel close, but still kind of pained at the distance. “Now I’m even more convinced what you’ve got to say is going to be bad. Very bad,” she said, looking at me, waiting for an explanation.
“Why?” I asked, touching the bandage covering the better part of her forehead.
I felt the muscles move beneath it. “Because no one kisses like that unless they’re half convinced it could be their last kiss for a while.”
Man, that would have been the kind of kiss to end it all on, it was the way I wanted to go—kissing the woman I loved—but I hoped there’d be more before my lips, along with the rest of me, took me to jail.
“It’s not so bad,” I began, making a no big deal face.
“No one says that unless it is bad,” she replied, tracing a finger over the Stanford lettering of the sweatshirt I’d snatched from one of her brothers. “Just give it to me straight, no more stalling, no more kissing, no more modifiers as you ease yourself into it. Explain until the explaining’s done.”
That was typically the way I liked things, the way I did things. I was anti-sugar when it came to coating the truth, but having Emma standing before me now, wanting nothing more than to protect her and give her nothing but happiness, I got why William had been a fan of using it with Bryn.
It was the only mercy we had to offer them in the midst of the often cold, always hard, truth. However, just as William had been when Bryn had thrown the no-sugar-today ultimatum on the table, I was incapable of giving Emma anything but the same at her request.
“It’s very likely your brothers will be facing some convincing charges for what they did to Ty tonight,” I began, finding it hard to look into her face as the strength began to melt away, piece by piece. “I doubt there’s any way around serving jail time, which would result in them losing their scholarships, their spots on the football team, the futures they planned on.”
I glanced inside at the Scarlett brothers and how their lives could be permanently ruined from tonight, the injustice of it all. I was certain they hadn’t hit Ty half as many times as he had Emma over the course of five years.
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