"This was a fucking setup," I hiss, pulling out my phone to call Grayson and Luca. "We need to get home immediately." The call goes straight to voicemail. I try again with the same result. "They're not answering," I say, panic starting to claw at my throat. "Luther, we have to go. This whole thing is a trap."
Luther's expression shifts as he processes what I'm telling him, and then his face goes white. I almost ask him what’s wrong when I feel a surge of fear through the bond, emotions mixed with pain and pure terror, Blake’s eyes widening as he clutches my hand. Tears fill his eyes as he looks up at me. “What is wrong with my Omega? Why does he feel like that?Grayson!”
This is so fucking bad.
Luther weaves us through the crowds and I all but pick Blake up as we hurry toward the car. “I found a fucking trap door in the bathroom but the letter in the trash had Ward’s name on it. He owns the fucking house, Luther.”
Anger surges through the bond, overshadowing the fear and pain I’m getting from Luca and Grayson. “Call again, Maceo. Keep fucking calling.”
23
Luca
With the others out at the gala, I have absolutely no responsibilities, nothing pressing, except the nagging feeling that I won’t have a lot of time after tonight. Which is why I tell Grayson that I want to focus on the nursery with the last bit of strength I have.
Setting up the small room feels like playing house in the most wonderful way possible. We're giggling and messing around as we arrange the furniture for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find the perfect placement for everything. The cribs look beautiful against the far wall, positioned so I can see both babies from the rocking chair without having to turn my head.
"What do you think about putting the changing table here?" Grayson asks, pushing the white wooden piece closer to the window. "The natural light might be good for diaper changes."
I waddle over to examine the new arrangement, my belly making even simple movements more challenging than they used to be. "I like it. And we can put the mobile over the cribs once it arrives."
"The one with the little stars and moons?" Grayson's face lights up with enthusiasm. "That's going to be perfect."
I love how invested he is in every detail, how he treats this space like it's the most important project in the world. The care he puts into making sure everything is perfect for James and Samuel makes my heart swell. The others don’t really know it yet but Grayson has mentioned taking an extended leave to stay at home with me and I’m so excited. He’s going to be a great daddy.
"So," Grayson says as he adjusts the angle of the rocking chair slightly, "have you thought about feeding preferences? Breastfeeding versus bottle feeding? And what about schools eventually?"
Heat floods my cheeks immediately, embarrassment making me duck my head. "I haven't really thought about any of that," I admit. "Just a few months ago, I was in a situation where I never even thought I would have any of that. The idea of making choices about schools and feeding schedules still feels surreal." I’ve browsed through them on my phone every now and then but they’re such big choices that I’ve started avoiding it.
Grayson stops what he's doing and moves closer to me, his expression softening. "Hey," he says, pulling me into his arms despite my awkward belly getting in the way. "You are able to have all of that. Every single piece of it. You get to make decisions about how to raise the boys, what kind of life you want them to have, and what values you want to teach them. We also don’t have to do all of that now. I was just asking."
I lean into his embrace, breathing in his comforting scent as tears threaten to spill over. "Sometimes I still can't believe this isreal. That I have you, that I have all of you, that I'm going to be a father to these perfect babies."
"It's real," Grayson murmurs against my hair. "You deserve every bit of happiness, sweetheart. You deserve to have the family you've always dreamed of."
My phone buzzes with a text message, interrupting the emotional moment. I pull it out to see a picture from Blake, and I can't help but grin at what I see. "He looks really hot," I say, showing Grayson the photo of Blake in his perfectly tailored suit, two fingers held up in a peace sign as he poses for the camera.
Grayson chuckles as he looks at the image. "Yeah, he does. Maybe we'll get you in a suit soon too."
"Once these babies are out, I'm not wearing anything restrictive," I say with a laugh. "Right now I can barely handle elastic waistbands." I’ve been waddling around in one of my Alphas’ shirts and sometimes Maceo’s while stuffing myself into their shorts, the waistband hanging below my belly so I don’t feel restricted.
"Fair enough," Grayson agrees, still smiling. "Comfort is definitely the priority."
My stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly, making both of us laugh. "Can we get something to eat and then lay down? I'm exhausted from all this furniture arranging."
"Absolutely, baby," Grayson says, helping me navigate around the furniture toward the door. It’s not even all in the right place as we make our way toward the kitchen, my hands supporting my belly. The babies have been even more active than they were yesterday, shifting and kicking in ways that make me think they might come today. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing but I haven’t actually wrapped my head around the birth part of the equation.
As we pass through the living area, a sound from the garage has me tensing up, which is strange because we don't really usethat space. We usually just park in the driveway for convenience. I frown, listening more carefully, but the sound stops. Maybe it was just the house settling or something outside. But then I hear it again, more distinctly this time. "Hey, Grayson," I say, my voice wobbling a little. "I think something's in the garage."
Grayson stops and listens, his expression growing alert as he focuses on the sounds I'm hearing. Then a light flips on, shining through the small window facing the kitchen. My heart jumps into my throat, palpitations making it hard to breathe as panic starts to set in. This house is supposed to be secure, protected by multiple locks and security systems. No one should be able to get inside without us knowing.
Grayson immediately moves in front of me, his gaze darting back toward the stairs. If we move now, whoever is in the garage would have direct access to me and could easily yank me away from my Alpha. Grayson pushes me back against the counter, the back door opening as Hudson steps into a view, a scream tearing from my throat.
My nightmareis here.
However, he looks worse than I've ever seen him. His clothes are wrinkled and dirty, his hair unkempt, and there's something wild in his eyes that sends terror shooting through my veins. "What the fuck are you doing here? Didn’t the fucking police pick you up? How the fuck did you get out?" Grayson snarls, his Alpha instincts flaring with protective rage. "How dare you come into our house?"
"I just need to talk," Hudson says, his voice carrying that deceptively calm tone I remember from the worst of his abuse.
