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“We’re going to have to hose you down before school,” Callum chuckles, cutting a piece of pancake for her.
“No school,” she pouts, opening her mouth when Cal holds his fork in front of her lips.
“Yes, school,” I respond quickly, earning a frown.
I can tell there are more protests on the tip of her tongue, but Cal doesn’t give her a chance to speak as he feeds her with a wide smile.
This is how it should have been all along. Us. Our girl. Little Lyric. I like to imagine what it would have been like if we had stayed in Central City. If I had never betrayed River in such a big way.
Baby Lyric would have had four caring dads at her beck and call from the beginning. Night feedings. Diaper changes. Everything that comes with new babies. Kieran and I would have figured out how to handle Nigel and his demands.
It would have worked out. But I guess this is the ultimate journey we had to make. We’re fundamentally changed. For better and worse.
“All right, Little Lady. Time to get dressed for school,” River says, leaning her cheek on her palm.
“I’m sick,” Lyric says with a fake cough, pouting even more.
“Heard that one before, Little Pretty Girl. You’re going to have to come up with something better than that,” Rad snorts, shaking his head. “There’s five of us now.”
“Let’s not give your momma a hard time today, okay?” I ask, leaning forward and catching her eyes. “Go upstairs, get cleaned up, brush your teeth, and get dressed. I bet your friends have missed you.”
She huffs when she jumps down from Kieran’s lap and walks up the stairs, stomping the whole way.
“And you want more,” River snorts, taking another sip of her coffee.
“It’s five adults against babies. We got this, Pretty Girl. Now, go get dressed and take her to school.” Rad gets up and kisses her cheek.
“Yes, Sir,” she grumbles sarcastically, climbing to her feet and shuffling up the stairs.
“They’ve agreed to a meeting,” Kieran whispers, holding up a text exchange between him, Seger, and Zeppelin West.
“When?”
Kieran licks his lips, looking around between us. “As soon as she leaves. We’re going to tell them what we’re doing.”
Rad grins, rubbing his hands together. “I thought I’d be terrified of this… Losing our music.” He shakes his head. “But I’m excited.”
As soon as River walks out the door, we pile into my car and take off, about to decimate our careers.
But in the end…
It’ll all pay off.
Being scaredto enter my own house shouldn’t be a thing. Right? Like I shouldn’t feel my heart thumping wildly in my neck. Or the anxious swirl in my belly at the thought of walking through my front door.
But yet, here I am, standing in front of my house. By myself, wishing I had someone to hold my hand.
I peek at the quiet band house from over my shoulder. They’re in band practice right now, working hard to get back into a routine. At least, that’s what they told me they were doing before I left with Ly and dropped her off at school. I could march over there and demand someone help me walk into my house. They’d drop everything to help me. I’m sure of it.
But I won’t.
Why? Because I’m a bad bitch who needs to get over the fear coursing through my veins. By myself. Van invaded my privacy here. Multiple times. But he’s gone. Locked in prison until his very last breath. There’s no way he’s getting out now. Jordy made sure of it.
His security firm’s equipment is gone from my home, too. Every camera. Every wire. Any trace of him has been erased like he never existed in the first place.
So, why am I so fucking terrified to go inside? He’s not here anymore. I am. It’s my home, goddamnit. The place I built so Lyric and I could have a paradise of our own on a beach to ourselves. We were safe here. Just us and my security guards. Useless bastards. They’re gone, too, replaced by bigger and better people, guarding my driveway and walking the property. Carter gave me my own Veritas agents who will protect me no matter what. Or I’m sure Carter will murder them in their sleep.
So, I should feel safer than before. My stalker is gone. For real, this time. I have better guards. My guys are stuck to me like glue. So, why do I have this constant anxiety running through me, leaving me with sweaty palms and heart palpitations? God, my stomach churns, thinking about all the shit Van put me through, pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes.
