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Alayna
Sitting in front of the ten half packed boxes in the living room, I sip my glass of ginger ale and smile to myself. Packing is probably one of the worst parts of moving, but this time, I can’t find it in me to hate it. I got started on the living room when everyone left for work this morning and with the right music and the image of our brand new home in my mind, it was actually extremely uplifting.
We decided last night over dinner that we would get some new furniture and home decor items since the new house will have more square footage than this one. Add in that all of this stuff was from before I came into their lives, we all thought it would be better to make the new place ours in every sense.
Rhys and I are the ones purchasing the new home under our names even though the house truly belongs to all four of us. Adam and Riggs are going to purchase the furniture and they both gifted money towards the down payment so that each one of us feels like we have a part in this house.
While searching for a new house, we made sure to discuss what we would do in the case of a break up. This was also when we decided how best to split the costs of the buying. We used the same lawyer that Declan used once upon a time, Mr. Daniel Ortman, to help us write a contract regarding any division of assets in case of separation. In this we decided to include all house assets and touch on topics such as custody and visitation of the children.
Marriage isn’t something I think I’ll ever be interested in, especially in the unconventional relationship that we’re in. This is a way for us to forge our bond, with the kids and the house, without needing to choose one of them to marry and the others to stay dating. No, marriage isn’t in the cards for us and I see nothing wrong with that.
My phone vibrates on the table behind a few of the boxes, the consistent vibrations indicating an incoming call. I sigh and use all my strength to push myself up off the couch to reach the phone. The ever-growing bump has been making some tasks, like getting up from sitting or putting on shoes, increasingly difficult.
Hudson’s name and picture is lit up on the screen for the incoming call. Swiping to answer, I place the phone up to my ear. “Hey, Big Guy. Is everything alright?”
“Hey, Lay. Yeah, I just wanted to check in on you while I had a few minutes,” he mumbles, the sound of wind and cars in the background. “Have you been up for a while?”
“Yeah, I’ve been up and going for a couple hours now,” I say after glancing at the clock and realizing it’s only just after ten thirty. “Adam had to get up and head to the community center to stop some sort of crisis so I decided to just get up with him. I wanted to get started on some of the packing since I have time this morning. The crew isn’t going to be on site until noon today.”
“Don’t over do it! Nothing too heavy, I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Did you check with the doctor about how much you’re allowed to be lifting during pregnancy?” Riggs fires off, always the overcautious one.
“I’m not doing anything too heavy, I promise. Just doing some of the smaller things in the living room like decor, movies, and books. I’m leaving all the boxes right where they are until you guys get home later,” I explain, shaking my head and grinning at the same time. “I’m excited for the new house, though!”
“I am, too. I think it’s going to be the perfect new beginning for all of us,” Hudson murmurs, the sadness still in his tone after our talk last night. “It’ll be a clean slate.”
“Yeah, it will. How are you feeling today? Did the talk last night help at all?” I ask, nervously kicking my pointed toes over the carpet. I almost can’t see the motion over the large, round bump that is my stomach.
“I’m doing okay. I called my mom just before I called you to see if she was up for a visit after work today,” he explains. “I think maybe going through some pictures and reminiscing over memories with her might help ease some of the pain right now.”
“That sounds like a really good plan. I’m glad—” I stop at the sound of a beep over the phone. Pulling it away from my ear, I see an incoming call from Ashe. “Sorry, Hudson. Can I call you back? Ashe is calling from the other line and I want to make sure it’s nothing serious regarding the bar.”
“Of course. Give me a call as soon as you’re done and let me know if you need anything,” Hudson answers, his voice ringing with concern.
After we say a quick goodbye, I answer the call from Ashe. “Hey, Ashe. Is everything okay?”
“Hey, Lay. I need you to come down to the bar,” he replies, the tone of his voice sending alarm bells ringing through my head.
Please, not this again,I chant in my head, over and over again. There’s no doubt in my mind that Kevin did something to my space again. He burned the last fucking bar to the ground and murdered my employee, I wouldn’t put it past him to do something again.
“What’s wrong? What happened to the bar?”
Ashe pauses, his breathing heavy on the phone. “There’s been a break-in and there’s some damage. You should really come down and see for yourself, Lay. Brennan and I did a quick sweep of the building and whoever it was is gone now. I do think we should call the police, though.”
My body and mind are numb as I fill with ice cold rage. I start walking to the bedroom to get dressed as I finish the call with Ashe. “I’ll call them now and then jump in the car. If you notice anything dangerous, leave the area immediately. It’s just a place with some stuff, don’t risk yourselves for it.”
“We won’t. We’ll keep you updated,” Ashe responds. “I’ll see you soon, Lay.”
Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Riggs
Pacingbackandforthin the break room at work, I check my phone for the hundredth time since Lay hung up. Maybe it’s just my anxiety speaking, but the sudden incoming call from Ashe isn’t sitting well with me. He wasn’t even supposed to be at the bar for an hour and a half. If he’s calling her before being on the clock, something is wrong.
It’s been five minutes since Lay hung up.Five. Fucking. Minutes.It feels like a goddamn eternity in the panicked state I’m in.
I’ve had this feeling in the back of my mind for a while now, that shit was going to hit the fan soon. It’s been sitting there, whisperingsoonin my ear while I watch vigilantly day and night, waiting for whateveritisto happen. That little voice stopped sayingsoonthe moment Lay got that call. It’s screaming at me now, that shit is on fire and it’s not going to stop without me stepping the fuck up to do something about it. I need to stop this once and for all.
