by Smyth, R. A
Her tears finally overflow, trailing down her face as she sniffles.
“I don’t know how to,” she sobs. Tugging on her hand, I draw her into my arms, wrapping them tightly around her. She feels fucking fantastic, safe in my embrace.
“We’ll work it out, love. Just don’t push us away. Please.” I plead, nuzzling into her neck, not giving a shit that I’m fucking begging. I’d do anything for this girl. I just need her to be okay, to know we are going to be okay.
She clings on to me, her hands fisting the back of my shirt, like she’s worried if she loosens her hold, I’ll slip away. I’m her life-raft in the middle of a fucking tsunami. “I promise,” she whispers against my chest.
________
When I come back down the stairs later that day, I find what must be every pot and pan we own sitting on the counter tops, along with half of the contents of our fridge.
“What are you doing?” I ask Barrett. His eyes are narrowed in concentration as he tries to read the cooking instructions on the back of a packet of chicken. You’d think they were written in hieroglyphics based on his intense look of confusion.
Sighing, he chucks the chicken on the counter. “I wanted to do something nice for Sophie,” he scowls.
Rolling my eyes, I move over to help him. Putting everything away except a pan, bacon, bread and eggs, I pour some oil in the pan and turn on the gas burner.
“Why don’t we start with something simple before you tackle chicken,” I tell him. “Here, you can’t go wrong with frying an egg.” I demonstrate how to crack an egg before handing him one to try for himself.
It takes three attempts before he finally manages to do it without getting half the shell in the yolk.
“Alright, now pour it into the pan and it should be done in a few minutes.”
“That sounds easy.”
Leaving him to keep an eye on the eggs, I lift out strips of bacon and put some bread on the grill.
“Eh, something went wrong,” he says, sounding confused.
How can something go wrong when frying an egg?
Moving over to look in the pan over his shoulder, I sigh when I see the charred remains of the egg.
“You burned it,” I state redundantly.
“What? But I didn’t do anything!” He exclaims.
“That’s kinda the point,” I say dryly. “You need to lift the eggs out when they’re done.”
“But...I didn’t know it was done. It didn’t tell me.”
“It didn’t tell you?” I repeat disbelievingly. “I’m sorry, did you expect the egg to talk to you? I said to give it a few minutes. Did you see bubbles in the white bits? When you see that, it means it’s done.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Barrett growls.
“I didn’t think I needed to, moron,” I snap, shaking my head.
Sighing, Barrett ditches the pan in the sink while I lift out a new one and place it on the stove.
“Here, try the bacon. Maybe you’ll have better luck with that,” I say, setting a few strips in the heating pan, hearing that satisfying sizzling sound as the meat starts to cook.
My phone rings in my pocket and I move away from the noise in the kitchen to answer the call. By the time I return a few minutes later, there’s smoke billowing from the pan and an acrid burnt smell in the air.
“What the hell?” I exclaim, rushing over to grab the pan and dump it in the sink with the other one. “How did you even manage to do that?!”
Barrett shrugs his shoulders looking totally bewildered. “I don’t know. It just started smoking.”
“And you didn’t think to lift it off the heat?”
“Eh, no. I figured that might be normal.”
I’m so close to bashing his head in right now.
“For future reference,” I growl, “smoke in the kitchen is never a good sign.”
Barrett throws his hands up in defeat, dropping into a chair at the table.
“Actually. I don’t think you should cook at all.” I say, running the hot water so I can start to scrub the pans clean. “We can’t have you burning down the warehouse, or wherever we live next,” I chuckle.
Barrett gives a small laugh, but he still looks frustrated.
“You know,” I sigh, turning to face him. “You can never go wrong with a good ol’ sandwich.”
Barrett looks up at me before snorting, shaking his head.
“But, you should probably eat the first few yourself, just be sure you haven't somehow managed to poison them,” I tack on.
“Shut up, asshole,” Barrett laughs, grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl and chucking it at my head.
Chapter 33
After my talk with Ty, he pulled me over to the bed, lying down with me and just holding me tight. I don’t know if it was his words or just having him wrapped around me, but something about it was exactly what I needed.
I know I’ve been absent since I got back, and it’s been freaking them the fuck out. I’ve heard them whispering about me when they think I’m not listening, none of them knowing how to handle me. I’ve been a complete fucking mess—hell, I’m still a complete mess, but Ty is right; I need to work out how to pick myself up. I have to learn to move past this and live with what I’ve done.
I must drift off at some point. When I wake up, it’s to the smell of bacon wafting up from the kitchen, and the sound of Ty whistling quietly while he cooks.
Getting up, I make my way downstairs, feeling a bit more like myself than I have the last few days. I’m by no means back to my normal self. I’m not sure I ever will be. Those few days with Kurt have irrevocably changed me, but the fog I’ve been living in the last few days is starting to lift. My guys are mostly here, and seeing how stressed out and worried they’ve been makes me feel stupid for even thinking they would leave me. My only concern is Preston. He barely deals with his emotions on a good day, and we’ve had a long run of bad ones recently. I can only hope he’s doing okay and comes back to us soon. I can’t let my worry for him drag me down, though. Today I have to focus on myself, on being present with the guys and getting out of my head. I need to start engaging with the world around me again, otherwise, Kurt wins. I sure as fuck won’t let that happen. I didn’t survive him just to let him have the final say.
Stepping off the bottom stair into the kitchen, I’m greeted with a surprisingly domesticated scene. Ty gives me a quick glance over his shoulder, his signature grin spreading across his face as I make my way to the bar stools. He looks so out of place in the kitchen with his low-slung sweatpants and naked torso painted in tattoos. Even his back has a myriad of tattoos over it. Most of them I can’t make out, but one in particular stands out as Aiden has the same one. It’s a circle interlinked with three ovals, all of which are shaped to form a triangle. I wonder if it's a gang thing, or an Aiden and Ty thing. Along with his scruffy beard and hair pulled back, he’s the typical picture of a thug.
Feeling my eyes on him, he turns around, smiling when he catches me gawking at him. “Enjoying the view, love?” He laughs. I can’t help but smile at his jovial attitude. He has this enigmatic air about him that always lifts the heaviness surrounding me, especially at times like this.
He sets a mug of coffee down in front of me, turning to check on the bacon before it burns. I can hear the shower running. I’m assuming it’s Aiden or Barrett in the bathroom. None of them have brought it up, but I know Preston left the other day and he hasn’t come back. Yet another thing that’s my fault.
“Smells good,” I compliment, pushing all thoughts of Preston out of my head as I wrap my hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth seeping into my skin. It’s only another few minutes before Ty is sliding a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs and toast towards me, setting his own plate down beside me, and putting one in the oven for Barrett.
We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. After eating next to nothing for the last few weeks, the food tastes like heaven. I’m shoveling it into me like an animal. Hunger had ta
ken a back seat in the last few days, but now my stomach is gnawing away at me, reminding me it’s been neglected for far too long.
Seeing how hungry I am, Ty gets up, scrapping what’s left of the food from the pan onto my plate. I give him a thankful smile just before shoveling yet another forkful into my mouth.
As he turns away to dump the pan in the sink, I catch a glimpse of his tattoo again. “What does the tattoo on your back mean?” I ask. He’s got several tattoos, but he must know the one I’m talking about as he doesn’t question it.
“It means brotherhood,” he says simply.
“Is that for The Feral Beasts?”
He’s quick to shake his head. “They wouldn’t know what brotherhood was if it was rammed up their asses. It’s for Aiden. For our brotherhood. He’s my brother in every sense of the word. The only family I ever thought I’d need...until recently,” he adds with a smirk before growing serious again.
“You know how everyone says ‘blood is thicker than water?’” I nod, knowing the sentiment well, although I’ve never felt it rang true. If that’s the case then my father should be putting my needs, our relationship first. My mother...well, I don’t know what my mother could have done. I definitely always felt like an afterthought to her most of the time, whether that’s fair of me to think or not. She was sick after all.
Ty shakes his head. “Well, they’ve been saying it wrong all these years, getting the meaning totally mixed up. The saying is actually ‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,’ meaning the bonds you make by choice are more important than the ones you’re tied to by birth.”
I nod my head, completely understanding what he’s saying. The connection I have with him, with all four of them, is so much more meaningful and significant than my relationship with my mother or the one with my father.
“I get that,” I agree. “We can’t choose our family, but we can choose the people we let into our lives, let ourselves get close to, let get close to us.”
Ty rounds the breakfast bar as I swivel round in the bar stool so I’m facing him. He wedges his body between my legs, pushing them apart so he’s standing right in front of me.
“Exactly,” he murmurs, leaning in close to me. “The family we choose to make is the only thing that matters.” His eyes are staring right into mine. This close, I can see the different hues in his honey colored eyes. They are an entire kaleidoscope of different shades of brown. Some are so light, they are almost yellow, while others are a dark reddy-brown like his hair, and the rest are various tints of hazel. Brown always seemed like such a boring eye color to me, like mud or bark, but Ty’s are mesmerizing. They somehow encompass every aspect of who he is—his light, humorous parts, and the dark beast that lives within him.
“I chose Aiden to be my family when I was eight years old,” he continues in a low voice, his forehead now resting against mine, our faces inches apart. “There wasn’t even a choice when it came to you.” My heart is beating frantically against my chest, his words sending it into overdrive. Family. I don’t even know what one of those looks like. “Now, Preston and Barrett are my family too.” His complete acceptance of Preston and Barrett, even though I know they aren’t the family he ever would have chosen for himself, is breathtaking. The extent of his love for me shatters every wall I’ve ever had around my heart, tearing down every barrier, leaving me exposed and vulnerable in his hands. I may have no idea what a family is, or how to be in one, but I have no doubt that, together, the five of us can work it out.
I lean in, pressing my lips to his, trying to convey in that simple touch how immeasurable his words are. To tell him he’s my family too, my person, my lifeline. My Ty who can pull me out of the darkest places in my mind, who can find the light in any situation, who, despite everything, is fierce, protective, and unbelievably loyal to the ones he loves. He’s a force to be reckoned with if crossed, as ferocious as Aiden when he wants to be, but there is so much more to him than my father and the Beasts ever knew. Not that they thought to look. They saw only what they wanted to see, a soldier for their war, but their loss is my gain because what they didn’t see, I get to admire and revel in everyday.
We break apart as Barrett steps out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped low around his waist, showing off his hardened pecs, tight abs, and the prominent ‘v’ of his hips. Between Ty’s meaningful words and Barrett’s hot body on display, my brain has totally just short-circuited. It’s great to feel more like my normal self, though.
“Morning, baby girl,” Barrett says smiling, coming over to kiss me on the cheek and snatching a cold piece of bacon off my plate. I was so lost in Ty, I’d completely forgotten about the second helping of food in front of me.
He saunters away, up the stairs to get dressed, while Ty tops up my coffee and removes our plates.
“What’s everyone's plan for today?” I ask.
“We can do whatever you want, love.” I don’t really know what I want to do. It’s not like we can go out, and I’m not sure I’d want to go anywhere, even if we could, yet, sitting here thinking about everything, with the risk of losing myself again, sounds like my own brand of hell. “There are board games, video games, movies. We can talk, not talk, watch TV, listen to music, dance around the room in our pajamas, sit in a circle singing kumbaya. The world is your oyster.”
I laugh at Ty’s ridiculousness. “It is, is it?”
“Well, anything that can be done in the warehouse is your oyster,” he corrects with a goofy grin in place.
“I’ve got the perfect way to spend the day,” Barrett tells us as he comes back down the stairs, sporting his own gray sweatpants and his black The Fuckable Five t-shirt, making me laugh. He’s a sight for sore eyes. The t-shirt might look ridiculous on someone else, but somehow it only makes him look even hotter. And what is it about gray sweatpants? They just look so damn sexy on a guy. Especially guys like Ty and Barrett. When I wear sweatpants, I look like a lazy, unkempt slob.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Ty asks as Barrett throws another black t-shirt at him and hands me mine before heading straight over to the TV, turning it on and pressing buttons on the remote until he finds whatever he’s looking for.
Seeing it’s his own The Fuckable Five t-shirt, Ty chuckles and pulls it on over his head before following Barrett into the living room, throwing the cushions back on the couch and gathering up the blankets. “Totally Spies?” He questions when he looks up at the TV, noticing what Barrett is cueing up to watch.
“Yup,” Barrett agrees, turning to give me his characteristic megawatt smile. “Sophie’s never watched it before.”
“You’ve never seen ‘Totally Spies’?” Ty gasps, rounding on me. I’m struck dumb at the fact he knows what ‘Totally Spies’ even is.
“You know what ‘Totally Spies’ is?” I ask disbelievingly. How can this gangster, who has grown up learning the most violent way to torture and kill people and how to dispose of dead bodies, also know what Barrett is even talking about right now?
He snorts like I’m the crazy person here. “How do you think I learned girls can do more than just lie on their backs or suck a dick?”
There’s something incredibly sad about that statement that makes me want to march over to the mansion and kill Kirk and that asshole Trey, right now.
“Come on,” Ty coaxes, grabbing my hand, dragging me over to the sofa. He pushes me down, wrapping one of the blankets around me before sitting down beside me, wrapping his arm around me and drawing me into his comforting arms.
Barrett makes his way over, sitting on the other side of me. Wanting to capture this moment where my world starts to right itself once again, I pull my phone out.
“Say cheese,” I tell Barrett and Ty as they lean in. Taking the picture, I have a goofy grin on my face as Barrett kisses my cheek and Ty gives one of his panty melting smirks to the camera.
Making the photo the background on my phone, I decide at the last minute to send it to Mia too.
Sophie: Netflix and chill Sunday.
The dots indicating Mia is replying pop up immediately, quickly followed by the ding as her message comes through.
Mia: *shocked face emoji* Guuuuuurl! You guys are too cute! There’s no way I’d be watching any Netflix with all that hotness around. #relationshipgoals.
Laughing, I put my phone away, settling into the sofa between Ty and Barrett, the two of them pressed up against me. Mia doesn’t know what I’ve been through this last week, and I plan on keeping it that way. No one needs to know the shit that is our lives, other than me, my guys and Oliver.
I intertwine my fingers with Barrett’s, and relax into Ty’s embrace. I’ve never felt safer or more content than I do right now.
Chapter 34
We’re several episodes into ‘Totally Spies’ when Aiden returns, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Based on the outdoor wear he’s sporting and the bag, I’m guessing he took himself off for a round of target practice, probably needing to burn off some of the stress from the last week.
