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Romero, like me and Grimm, was a good six feet, muscular, and covered in tats.
Here he was, cradling a swaddled up blob that had started sucking on its tiny fist.
I grinned openly at the visual.
“The fuck you smiling at?”
“Stop talking like that in front of her, Rome,” Cali snapped.
“It slipped,” he said unapologetically.
She shook her head at him, and Arlen laughed under her breath.
“You won’t think it’s funny when you’re dealing with it, too.”
“Brat’s mouth is a lot filthier than mine,” Grimm replied.
Watching them all together brought Rome’s words from the night before to the forefront of my mind.
Our dynamic had been so simple with just the three of us and the acolytes.
Since the day they’d saved my scrawny redheaded ass from being a man’s nightly fuck-buddy, we’d been inseparable.
Romero was the devil in the flesh, a damn king in his own right.
Grimm, well that one’s a given. The man collected souls as a hobby.
And then there was me.
The black cobra tat coiled down my arm represented everything I was, a lethal monster of my own making.
The inverted cross tatted beneath my eye represented what I stood for.
Together, we’d built the foundation for the Savages, a satanic cult no one with half a brain fucked with.
But things had most definitely changed.
Romero had Cali, and she’d made him semi-human again. Grimm had Arlen, someone who accepted every immoral part of him. Our acolytes had families of their own.
I was still wrapping my head around the fact this pair of assholes had found themselves two kickass women to hold onto. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tiny bit envious.
And right now, it was all at risk.
I felt I played a role in how we got here. Nah, scratch that, I knew I’d greatly contributed to this clusterfuck we were dealing with.
It was another black mark on my character card.
Personally, I couldn’t give two fucks about myself, but this was my family, and I gave all the shits about them.
If I thought it would end things peacefully with no repercussions, I’d give my life for theirs with no hesitation.
I was the most expandable and the least likely to be missed. I was gonna die a painful death eventually—it came with the territory. At least that way, it’d be worth it.
This was the Badlands, though, and every undeserving asshole seemed to want a piece of our home.
Peace was a foreign word they’d never understand. They’d kill me just for the fuck of it and still come for them.
Inside the house we were as safe as could be. The compound was damn near a fortress of security.
