Page 77 of Property of Quake

They knew we’d bring her home.

Brothers file in behind us, none of them saying a word. I know they want to go to their quarters, get some sleep, but they remain close, their attention fixed on Melissa sleeping in my arms.

“Thank you all,” I say, emotion clogging my throat. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“How we’ll ever repay you,” Whitney says, sliding her arm around my waist and leaning close.

Lyric steps forward. “No thanks or repayment required, brother.” He levels his gaze on Whitney. “You either. We just did what we do for family.” He glances at Melissa and smiles. “And whether you realize it or not, you’re both fucking family.”

With that, everyone disperses, and we head to my suite. When I open the door, Stella immediately leaps off the couch and races to us. Whitney kneels down and ruffles her ears.

“She’s very tired, baby,” she tells the beagle. “We need to let her sleep.”

Stella jumps around in circles a few times before bounding toward the bed and jumping up to lay down as if she knows exactly what’s expected of her.

I smile despite myself as I carefully lower Melissa to the mattress. The second her head touches the pillow, Stella shifts to curl against her side.

The dog doesn't hesitate, simply resumes her self-appointed role as protector. I have a feeling she's going to take that job very seriously from now on.

As am I.

Whitney stands beside me staring down at the pair of them. The exhaustion on her face matches my own, exceeds it even.

The woman has spent the last day terrified. The fact that she's still standing is impressive.

"I should call Sister Beatrice,” she finally says.

“Lyric already did,” I tell her.

“Oh, good. I know she was worried.”

“You can call her after you get some sleep.”

“Okay,” she says, covering a yawn. “I think I’m going to shower first, if that’s okay.”

“Absolutely.”

She hesitates for a second as if she wants to say something, but then she steps around me and heads into the bathroom. What she doesn’t do is shut the door. I don’t know if it’s because she’s so tired that she forgot or if it’s a silent invitation.

The shower turns on, and I stand frozen in place, analyzing every scenario under the sun. Then I hear her clothes hit the tile floor and the glass door click shut when she steps under the spray.

Incredibly, my cock springs to life. This might be the biggest gamble of my life, but I walk to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me when I’m inside the steamy room.

“Quake?” Whitney says tentatively.

“Yeah?” I ask, half afraid she’s going to demand I walk out.

“Are you going to join me?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

She speaks so softly I almost miss it. Almost. I strip out of my clothes so damn fast that she laughs, and the sound is the sweetest music.

When I open the door and join her, her eyes widen.

“I can leave,” I offer, praying she doesn’t take me up on it.