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The second of silence after that lasted maybe half a heartbeat before Dante physically bent over the table and covered his face with both hands.

Rachel made a sound I had previously only heard from rabid animals.

And then she came for me again.

I bolted.

Monster, perhaps deciding my attempted murder was now a community event, joined in immediately. Sunshine shouted, “GET HIM!” like he was launching a siege. Rooster and Chicken were both too busy laughing to be useful. Liam moved hisdrink out of the way like this was all happening around a minor inconvenience. Chris calmly picked up a slice of pizza and stepped to one side so he wouldn’t get caught in the stampede.

I made it halfway around the table before Rachel smacked me in the shoulder with a bag of chips and Monster nearly rugby tackled me into the fruit machine.

“I gave you lunch!” I shouted at him, the air wheezing out of my lungs.

“You gave me fucking trauma!”

“Same difference!”

“Sit the fuck down. All of you. Before I start swinging,” Dante said, reaching the end of his limit.

That, more than anything, was what got them under control.

Mostly because everyone knew Dante would absolutely start swinging.

Grumbling, laughing, still hurling abuse in my direction, the room gradually settled back into order. Monster kept glaring at me like he was plotting my assassination. Rachel muttered something about moving out and finding a convent. Riley dealt the cards again. Ant opened the pizza like it was a sacred offering from the gods themselves.

And just like that, poker night resumed.

Sunshine and Chicken were arguing over whether folded crisps counted as double points if you found them in the packet. Rooster was still retelling the pube reveal to anyone who hadn’t seen it properly the first time. Chris and Trent were already bickering over the pot. Tools had somehow ended up with three slices of pizza and no cards. Greg was being accused of cheating even though he hadn’t actually done anything yet. Monster still looked like he might cry every time he glanced at the sandwiches.

And at the head of the table, Dante sat with Rachel tucked into the chair beside him, muttering under his breath about howhe was too old for this shit while she stole chips off his plate and occasionally kicked me under the table whenever she caught my eye.

“Are you going to deal me in?” Rachel asked, and then scowled when we all shouted protests. “Do you know what, you’re all so unfair.”

“Were you, or were you not, kicked out of here twice for cheating?” Monster asked her.

“You realise your old lady is one of my friends, right? Because I can make your life very, very difficult,” she warned him.

“My life is already difficult,” Ant piped up. “So let me ask you the same question.”

“I was kicked out once,” she muttered, realising she was beat. “Vienna, feed these dickheads more of your pubes. They don’t deserve mercy.”

The room erupted again after that.

And through it all, I just sat there and let it wash over me.

The noise.

The laughter.

The insults.

The warmth of too many bodies in one room and too many voices talking over one another. The kind of chaos that should have been unbearable and somehow had always felt like home.

These men had been there for every version of me.

The little shit with no direction. The reckless bastard with too much charm and not enough sense. The prospect. The patched member. The enforcer. The Vice President.

They had watched me grow up.