“Shh,” I murmured, stifling his argument. “You and Ezra are discovering so much right now, having death on your hands would only complicate it.”
“But not you?” The challenge made me grin.
“Of course not, I’m his kotyonok, he adores me.”
The fact his eyes flashed with jealousy briefly before they turned full of affection amused me. “You are very lovable.”
I didn’t snort, but I did trace my fingers against his cheek. “It took us time to find that trust, Adam. It took a lot of pain—we’ve all hurt each other. The big ones, the rejections, we understand. They were done in the name of protecting each other.”
It didn’t mean they didn’t leave their own scars. Those marks had been gouged deep in some cases. Adam had done his own share of rejection and control. Eventually, I’d lashed out at both of them. We were all guilty of it to some degree or other.
“But it’s the little wounds, the little cuts, and lies that we tell each other that have been allowed to get infected. Until we clear all of them out, until we stop trying to shield ourselves from what might happen, we’re never going to have what can happen.”
“What can happen—you with all four of us, building a life?” He frowned for a moment. “Me and Ezra figuring out our part. Can we have that, Lainey? All five of us? Milo’s probably got the easiest of it. He doesn’t have a dynasty or inheritance to worry about.”
I shrugged. “I want it enough to make it happen. If that means we sacrifice, then I’m willing. If it means we fight, then I will take on the rest of the damn world. I love you. I love all of you.”
No one was taking that from us.
“To hell with the inheritance and the legacies. This is our time. We are going to be the ones who make the rules and set the tones. If that means I have all four of you and you and Ezra have each other, then that’s what it means. No one is going to stop us. Besides…the five of us together are stronger than any other family. What chance do they have?”
“Not a damn one,” Adam murmured. “Not against you.”
“Us,” I reminded him.
“Oh, don’t you worry. I know just how to be an enforcer, so do the others. Knights and Bishops for our queen.”
Heat scorched my face at the endearment. “Not yet…”
“Queen takes King, that’s the match.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s a move on the board to get rid of him. The match is getting our sister back and bringing her home.”
His lashes dipped as he closed his eyes and then he held me closer. A long moment of just being, then he eased me to my own feet.
“Stay,” I told him when he would have slipped out. “You need to shower as much as I do…and I like having you here.”
“Your grandfather is going to have words.”
I chuckled. “Probably. Is that going to scare you off?”
“Not even a little,” he promised. “I’ll stand there and take it in the chin from Leopold because at the end of the day, we both love you far more than any old feud that may have existed between him and my father.”
“He’ll come around,” I said. “I can be quite persuasive when I really want something.”
“No,” Adam mocked me gently. “Really? I would never have guessed.”
I elbowed him lightly before I reached for the shampoo. Showering with Adam relaxed another jagged little part of me that had been disconnected. This was natural and normal now.
Being together was how it should be and after so many years of being pushed away, I craved these little moments.
“Adam?”
“Hmm.”
“I love you.”
He paused to glance down at me, the shower spray leaving droplets on his face. The tenderness in his eyes would have made his feelings clear even if he’d never admitted them before.
“I’m damn lucky you do,” he said, one corner of his mouth kicking up before he dropped a kiss on my lips.
“Yes you are,” I teased, bumping his hip with mine. “Don’t you forget it.”
“Oh,” he promised in between nibbling kisses. “I won’t.”
Chapter
Twelve
EZRA
Dad was dead. Not playing dead. Actually dead. All the times I’d ever imagined it, I’d relished the idea. Sometimes, I even prayed for it. The fact it was the only thing I prayed for probably wasn’t okay with God, but like whatever.
Wallace Graham, my tormentor, the man who hated me more than he ever loved me, and spent most of my life making me endure pain, was dead.
Good. Fucking. Riddance.
