AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We climb the stairs behind Travis and Maison. The latter goes to talk to the pilot while Travis settles in the first seat by the door, giving Ronan and Max some space. Jake takes the seat beside him, but I ignore him when he tugs at me to join, walking until there's only a seat between me and Max. He's going to want someone after Ronan leaves. I won't let him believe he's alone.
"I'm sorry," I hear Ronan say, his accent thick with emotion. He cups the side of Max's neck and gives him a smile that makes me ache with sadness for them. "Is tú mo chuisle."
I don't know what the words mean, but he says them like someone would say I love you.
A loud sob escapes Max. "I hate you."
Ronan flinches, then hangs his head with a small nod. "Okay. That's okay."
"I hate you," Max says again, each syllable dripping with venom and heartbreak. "Go! Just go, you fucking coward!"
Ronan listens, walking away from the man he so clearly loves. He nods at Jake, then Travis, then Maison. When he reaches the door, he gives Max a lingering look full of pain before softly begging us all, "Please take care of him," and disappearing.
The plane engines kick on at the same time that Max releases his first sob. He quickly stifles himself as I move to the seat directly beside him. “S-sorry. I’m a fucking mess.”
“So am I,” I assure him. I glance at the others on the plane, all pretending they’re not listening, before turning my back on them like I can somehow shield Max. “Do you really hate him? Ronan?”
“I do.”
I nod, understanding a little bit. Mostly from what Carter has gone through. “Do you love him, too?”
He parts his lips, probably intending to answer, but ends up releasing a sob instead. I wrap an arm around him and let him fall against me. His sobs grow in strength as he trembles in my hold.
“Yeah,” I murmur, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “Yeah, you’ll fit in with us just fine.”
Chapter Forty-eight
Jake
Things are quiet in the days following the DuGray trip. With him dead, Elliot saved, and the hit lists for the task forces nearly finished, all there is to do is rest. Heal. Rebuild.
Maison, Travis, Ace, and I do a lot of talking about the house. We pool finances, contact the realtor, and fill out forms using our false identities. The sellers will be out by the end of the month, already having a new home to move into. The last step is to get our official papers approved by the head - the ones that say we no longer belong to him, but we're still open to helping with future missions in a temporary capacity. It's our understanding that Keats has the same deal, so we don't see any issues coming up.
To celebrate - and to finally talk to all the survivors about the plan - we have a bonfire. It's probably one of the last comfortable nights of autumn - warm enough to enjoy the outdoors, but cool enough for everyone to be in sweaters with their chairs pulled closed to the fire. Carter and Travis brought stuff for s’mores, and we raided the liquor cabinet and wine cellar for all the best stuff. Nolan gets grumpy when the mosquitoes that have been too stubborn to die yet decide he's the tastiest of us all. Maison gets him a big blanket and tries not to laugh when Nolan wraps it around his head and body, nothing but his eyes and nose showing. He fails. It earns him a very dirty look from Nolan and a silent treatment until he makes Nolan a marshmallow that's perfectly toasted and feeds it to him so he doesn't have to come out of his anti-mosquito cocoon. I try not to stare when Nolan catches the tip of Maison's finger with his teeth before he can remove it, looking right into the man's eyes as he pulls the rest of the digit into his mouth and sucks it clean. Casey squirms where he's seated in my lap. When I turn my attention to him, I catch him watching them too.
"Is someone getting turned on?" I tease, making sure my voice stays low enough to only be heard by him.
His blush is beautiful highlighted by the fire. "Maybe…"
"Dirty boy." I peek around, ensuring everyone is doing their own thing, before sliding my hand between Casey's legs and squeezing until he gasps. "Don't worry. Daddy will take care of that later."
"Or now," he pants, lifting his hips in a request for more. "We could sneak away."
"You think they wouldn't notice? They're the nosiest fuckers on the planet."
"Don't care if they notice." He lifts his hips again. I move my hands, grabbing him by the waist and pinning him in place. His whimper is low and needy and goddamn beautiful. "Please, daddy."
"Behave, or daddy will be the only one coming tonight."
His jaw drops, but he doesn't have time to argue. Keats steals the show by appearing out of nowhere with a bottle of whiskey and an acoustic guitar. "I heard there was a party."
I exchange a look with Travis, wondering if he invited him. He just shrugs. I shrug too. Who the fuck knows how Keats finds shit out? Maybe he talks to Bryce. He would worship at his feet if allowed, after all - a complete mystery I still haven't been able to figure out. I find Bryce across the fire, studying him for a reaction, but he doesn't even look up at Keats. He's engrossed in a conversation with Max, the two of them nearly falling out of their chairs from how closely they're leaning toward each other. I eye Keats again, fighting a smirk when I catch him frowning at the two of them.
"Glad to have you, man," I say, deciding to save him from just standing there staring at the object of his affection.
Keats shakes his head a little before turning to me with an easy smile. "Thanks. I'm always happy to get to chill with the cool kids."
"We're the cool kids?" Maison asks.
