Luck starts rubbing her back again, and I arch a brow at him.Cool it, dude.
This isn’t the old days where we had to peel Leo off of us. She’s skittish, she’s scared, and our girl can’t handle her emotions on a good day. If he keeps it up, he’s going to push her right back into herpitlike Norm said.
But Lucky just winks at me before reiterating what we’re saying. “We never gave up on you. On us. We knew that one day you were going to wake up from the nightmare you were living, and we had every intention of being there when you did.”
He reaches out to catch the lone tear that manages to escape down her cheek then traces the path it took to her chin.
God, I just want to fucking hold her.
“Plus, you’re right, we fucking suck without you.” Mark smiles through his beard, the fur on his face sparkling with the tears no one saw him shed. “I was a little worried we were goingto have to send up a flare or call in the troops, though. You were thick in that shit, Leo.”
The most beautiful smile breaks out on her face and I know we have her, I know that this is the beginning of a new chapter in the story of us, so I move. I cross the space between us and turn her toward the doors that will lead to her loft, motioning for everyone to get on board. And as Mark distracts her with another stream of goofy bullshit, I shoot a grin to Lucky and Norm while marching our girl inside.
If we don’t take the chance that has presented itself after all this time, we’ll lose Leo, most likely forever, and I’m not prepared to go through that again.
None of us are, and even though I’m still leery, hope wins out in the first of what will no doubt be many battles to get our girl back for good.
6
LEONOR
For the first time in forever I feel safe and dare I say, almost happy?
The feelings are foreign and extremely uncomfortable, which is why I don’t notice we’re at my front door until I’m discreetly removing the dried-up black rose from the handle, unlocking it, and pushing inside with the four brutes on my heels.
I’d been basking in their presence, in their forgiveness and acceptance so completely that I totally forgot that I’m a demented shut-in living in a mausoleum, and I never wanted them to see that.
Norman gasps under his breath as soon as we’re inside, and I internally wince at that.
“It is fuckingdarkin here,” he says strolling over to the ceiling-to-floor windows hiding under thick, heavy tapestries.
He whips the first set open and everyone squints, taking a few moments to adjust to the sunlight as it blasts through the darkness that usually swallows my apartment whole.
“Well, this isn’t going to work.” Lucky frowns, looking around at the room briefly before making his way to the nearestghost so he can unveil what’s hiding underneath. “Yeah, I was pretty sure you had furniture.”
Within minutes, Lucky and the others have found my couch, coffee table, a couple of recliners, and several bookshelves. I watch them move around the room uncovering everything I’ve tried to bury, my palms sweating as they close in on the brick wall across from me. Panic rises from the pit of my stomach and I open my mouth to speak but they don’t hear me, my voice is so small trapped in the back of my throat. Until Mark grabs the corner of a sheet covering the biggest object in here, and I totally lose my shit.
“No!” My hand shoots out to stop him despite being on the other side of the room. I might as well be on the other side of the world, but it doesn’t keep me from trying.
They all stop dead, Lucky and Pete slowly turning first before the others follow suit.
I wring my hands in front of me, breathing heavily while I try to calm my erratic pulse. “I’m not ready.”
God, what a lunatic.
They’re trying to be helpful, kind and supportive, and I started having a panic attack and almost took their heads off.
But the fear and anxiety I felt as they moved toward the rawest spirits in the room was crippling, overwhelming, practically smothering me under those white sheets. My throat had already started to close by the time I screamed at them, and there was nothing I could do to stop myself.
“No worries, baby cakes. We got you when you are.” Lucky flashes that million-dollar smile—which isn’t the least bit affected by the angry scar running through half of his face—then claps Pete on the shoulder as they exchange a look.
I take a deep breath and force a smile.
Fake it till you make it.
I’m totally going to have to readjust to this wholeoutward physical display of emotionthing, or any kind of acceptable human reaction, really. Going psycho on these men isn’t an option, especially when they’re just trying to help me.
“What gives, Leo?”
