Page 37 of Give Me Peace

The sun is just peeking through the windows when I walk back out. Kash is usually up by now, so I’m shocked to see he’s still sleeping. Like a fucking rooster, he rises with each new day and proceeds to wake the whole goddamn place with his racket. Where Krew is content to keep his own company, Kash thrives on interaction. He doesn’t do well when he’s left alone, so as much I might want to strangle the fucker when he interrupts the rare sleep I do get, I understand it’s not something he does to be annoying. But the other hell he causes? Definitely intentional.

I head to the kitchen, planning to get some food going. After the junk we ate last night, we could do with something on the healthy side to even out the scales. I grab some diced potatoes from the freezer, toss them in some seasoning, and stick the baking sheet in the oven. The biscuits Saylor loved so much go in as well, and then I start frying up some sausage. I’ve been cooking since I was a kid, not really having any other choice but to learn or go hungry. The guys caught on pretty quickly, even Loch who’d been used to having a private chef most of his life.

As soon as the meat’s done, I crumble a few pieces up and place them back into the pan to make sausage gravy. Hopefully, it’s not too greasy for Saylor to handle. I know her stomach is still sensitive and trying to adjust, but just like everything else she’s been dealing with, she’s doing far better than I thought she’d be at this point. It’s been little more than a week since I kicked in that fucking door. It feels like so much longer, though. When everything’s done, I start making Saylor’s plate first. I can see the sleepy fuckers rousing, but my Little Fighter is still down for the count.

“Goddamn, that smells like Heaven,” Kade mumbles as he climbs to his feet unsteadily. His eyes are closed as he walks toward the kitchen, but his nose leads the way.

“Only you could take the Lord’s name in vain while comparing something to Heaven.” Loch sits up, elbows braced on his knees as he scrubs a hand over his face. Kade grunts, trying to take the plate I’m making, but I swat him away. I’ve already put him on his ass once for taking Saylor’s food, and I won’t hesitate to do it again.

Krew stretches out, glancing to where his hand is resting on Saylor. The second he realizes, he jerks it away. What a dumb fucker. He can play unaffected all he wants, even try to put distance between them, but it’ll be pointless. If I have anything to say about it, she won’t be going anywhere. Kash grumbles from where he’s passed out, but eventually rolls over and pushes himself to his feet. Both him and his brother follow Loch and start shoveling down mounds of food before I can even get Saylor moving. I walk over, squatting beside the couch, and lightly brush my finger over the bridge of her nose.

“Little Fighter.” I speak quietly, trying to draw her awake gently. She flutters her eyes, slowly coming around and giving me the sweetest fucking smile.

“Good morning,” she whispers groggily. “Something smells good.”

“I have a plate ready for you. You hungry?” She nods, so I hold my hand out to help her up. She stretches, wincing a little at the pull it causes on her ribs. I steer Saylor to the kitchen, get her seated, then slide her food and morning pain meds over.

“You made biscuits and gravy?” She gasps, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. “This was Mom’s favorite.” I expect her to get emotional, but she just grins, looking more nostalgic than upset.

“I might’ve grown up in Washington, but the mouth of the south here taught us a few secrets.” I wink, pointing at Kade.

“It’s her recipe, Say.” He looks up, giving her a sad smile. Well, fuck. Kade’s always been tight lipped when it came to Saylor. We never understood his obsession with finding her. Outside of sharing a hometown, there’d been no obvious link connecting the two. There’s a lot he’s never told us, but his closeness with Eliza Radley was never a secret.

“Seriously?” She smiles, but it’s fragile.

“It definitely wasn’t my shitty mother that taught me to cook.” Kade jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“I didn’t realize you weren’t from here,” Saylor says, giving me a questioning look and redirecting the conversation. She takes a bite of her food and groans. It’s an indecent fucking sound, and I’d bet my left nut that every one of us just popped a semi. She’s the center of attention, but not for the reason she’s thinking. Saylor’s unaware of the affect she has on us, and we’re dirty fuckers for looking at her with any sort of interest.

“No,” I answer, clearing my throat while searching for something else to focus on besides the way she licks her fork. “I was actually born in Albania but moved to Washington when I was kid.”

“What?” Saylor drops the silverware she’d been damn near assaulting, causing it to clatter against her plate. “How did I not know that?” Her brows pinch together.

“I guess it just hasn’t come up before now.” I shrug. “I don’t usually talk about my life before the guys.”

“Oh.” Saylor resumes eating, but she looks like she’s biting back a million questions. “I feel like all of you know so much about me, but I barely know a thing about any of you.” She nibbles on her bottom lip nervously, like she’s worried it’s somehow crossing a line to want to know us better.

“You’re right,” Loch says, rinsing his plate and placing it in the dishwasher. “It’s not something we’ve done intentionally. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m an open book. Anything you want to know, you’re more than welcome to ask.” He smiles, arms and feet crossed as he leans against the counter.

My skin tightens at the thought of spilling my life’s story to Saylor, but I know if she asked there’s no way I’d deny her. It terrifies the fuck out of me that she might see me differently. That she could confirm all the insecurities I fight to overcome every day. The painful thoughts telling me I failed the one person I should have protected above all else. A knife to the jugular would be less painful than to have Saylor’s eyes cloud with judgement and disappointment every time she looks at me.

“Are you from Washington, too?” She questions, taking the opening Loch offered.

“I was born in upstate New York but spent my summers in London visiting my Nan. I moved to Washington when I was twenty because that’s where Ro was,” he responds. Not for the first time, I remind myself how fucking lucky I am to have someone like Lochlan Calloway in my life. I should send the makers of that stupid video game a damn fruit basket or something.

“We’re from Washington, as well,” Krew cuts in. “We met Loch and Ro when we were fifteen. Moved in with them when we were legally allowed to, and then made the jump to Florida about six years ago.” Kash is quiet, letting his brother speak for the both of them. I think we all can agree that our personal shit—the painful shit—should be discussed with her one-on-one. It’s hard enough to open up without the added pressure of an audience.

“And you know how they found my sorry ass,” Kade adds, grabbing Saylor’s empty plate along with his.

“Wow. How did you even meet Roan if you guys lived on opposite ends of the country?” She tilts her head to the side, her nose turning up in confusion as she ponders the logistics of us stumbling across each other from thousands of miles away.

God, I love it when she does that.

“A video game,” Loch answers simply, laughing at the surprised look on her face. “We played together online, got to talking and never really stopped, I guess.”

“That’s…not what I was expecting.” Saylor laughs, earning a smile from each of us at the lighthearted sound.

“So, I know Havok is twenty-one, but how old are the rest of you? I feel like that’s a question I should have asked by now.” Saylor plants her elbows on the counter and rests her chin in her hands, her feet swinging back and forth as she waits to hear our responses.