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Well, he was going to learn that Margo was not a pushover and that she didn't let anyone take over unless she absolutely had to. If any of the cartel thugs showed up, she would gladly let Negal take care of that, but she was perfectly capable of paying for her own stuff.
62
ROBERT
Robert leaned against the balcony railing, a cigar in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other and listened to the soft hum of male voices. Bathed in the gentle glow of the setting sun reflecting off the water, the balcony provided the perfect ambiance for celebrating his last moments of bachelorhood with his friends—his new family, or rather, the only family he'd ever had.
He could hardly remember his mother or what life had been like in the Brotherhood's Dormants' enclosure. It had been so long ago. But he remembered vividly his first day in the training camp, and those weren't good memories. He'd been lucky to be a big guy and quite strong at thirteen, so he could defend himself and hold his own against the others, but fighting had never been in his nature, and he'd suffered through every moment of the training and the years that had followed.
Getting picked up by Sharim to be his assistant had been a liberation because it had taken him off the battlefield, but working for a monster had proven to be another form of torture even though Sharim had never hurt him.
Watching the sadist at work had been its own hell, but even though Robert had been miserable, he never would have gathered the courage to escape if not for Carol. Her suffering had been the catalyst that had ejected him from the Brotherhood once and for all, and for that, he would be forever grateful to her.
He might have saved her from Sharim and the daily torture she had endured, but she had saved him from an immortal's lifetime of horror.
Turning around, he looked at the shimmering ocean water and regretted that the ship was docked near the port of Puerto Vallarta and not out at sea.
He'd felt calmer during the voyage—had to struggle less with the demons of his past that refused to leave him alone. Surrounded by the infinite expanse of the sea, he'd felt adrift, and for some reason, it had been a good feeling.
Still, he was grateful to be here, with a small, tight-knit circle of unlikely allies, the rich, earthy scent of their smoldering cigars intermingling with the briny sea air and creating this moment suspended in time.
Bhathian, who was standing beside him, raised his glass. "Robert, my friend, this is to you and the crooked path that led you to this happy day." He clinked his glass to Robert's. "May all of your tomorrows be at least as joyful as today."
"I'll drink to that." Robert downed the shot in one go and extended his hand to Charlie, who was holding the bottle. "A refill, if you will, my friend."
His former roommate filled his glass to the brim. "To Robert, the myth, the legend, the man."
Robert chuckled. "I didn't know I was a myth."
"But you are. Every member of the clan, including those in Scotland and Alaska, knows the story of you saving Carol from the sadist, and it's going to be told for many generations to come. That's what myths are made of, my friend. It's just a shame that the two of you didn't end up together. It would have made for an even better story."
"I don't share your view." Robert puffed on his cigar. "The way I see it, Carol and I saved each other so we could go on and find our fated mates. I found mine in Sharon, and Carol found hers in Lokan." He chuckled. "Maybe the Fates were confused between me and him because we were both members of the Brotherhood, and once they realized their mistake, they convinced Carol to end things between us."
"Technically, Lokan is still a Doomer," Dalhu said. "He's still a member of the Brotherhood."
Robert exchanged looks with Dalhu, an unspoken understanding passing between them. The two of them were not friends, but they had a common past, and that bound them whether they liked it or not.
Out of everyone here, Dalhu was the only one who truly got where Robert had come from, and the shadow of the past still loomed over him despite the home he had found in the clan.
They were both still battling similar demons.
Ed, reclining on a lounger with his feet propped up, nodded thoughtfully, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Lokan is a brave dude. I admire him for what he's doing. I would be terrified to spy on the Brotherhood for the clan, and if I had a mate, I would never endanger her like that. They are both insane for coming on this cruise." He looked at Robert. "Love's not just about the sunny days. It's about weathering the storms together. But enough about your former girlfriend and your former boss. Sharon is a badass in her own right, and you are one lucky dude to have snagged her. What is it about you that attracts these tough women?"
Robert shrugged. "Beats me. I'm as boring as they come, so maybe that's the attraction. They have enough turmoil in the outside world and prefer calm waters at home."
Nick nodded with a sage expression on his face. "You are onto something. Opposites attract and all that. My Ruth is an introvert, and I'm an extrovert, and we get along splendidly."
Bhathian snorted. "Your theory falls apart with me and Eva. She's a major badass, but so am I. We are more alike than we are different."
"Yeah," Roni snorted. "But thankfully, she's much better looking than you."
Robert had thought that the guy was asleep on the lounger, but apparently, he'd been listening to the conversation.
Jackson, who was usually the one talking the most, hadn't contributed to the banter so far and seemed a little broody. Maybe he was regretting passing on the opportunity to get married on the ship.
Hopefully, there would be another wedding cruise, this time without all the excitement.
Robert glanced at Julian. "Next time, you and Ella?"
