He gives an exhausted laugh, but when he hunches over her to push a kiss to her temple, his voice is nothing but serious. “Always.”
None of us are going to sleep well until Rath is home, safe and whole. But we collapse onto the mattress anyway, naked and slick with sweat and old blood. Killian runs a finger up her inner thigh to push his cum back into her, and I know instinctively that he’ll go again. After she’s limp and sleeping, warm in my arms, he’ll rock back inside of her as I watch. Rath will come in and take her again, hard and fast, until they’re both too fucked out to do anything but lose consciousness. And then tomorrow, we’ll wake up and do it all over again.
A lot has changed between these past few years.
But the way we love never will.
37
Rath
“You okay?” Even though there’s only the faint flicker of a candle to light the room, I can still make out the frown etched on Story’s face.
I hastily squash the ember of my blunt, clearing my throat. “Yeah, just a headache.”
She lingers by the door, shoulders heavy. “You don’t have to stop on account of me,” she says, gesturing to my makeshift ashtray; one of Killian’s discarded Red Bull cans.
Shrugging, I sink deeper into the water, letting the heat unwind my muscles. “I do if I want you to get in here with me.” This tub is one of the best parts of the house. Long enough for my legs, wide enough to accommodate a pretty, naked brunette.
She ducks her head, but I can still make out the edge of her grin. “I don’t want to intrude.”
I grab the sides of the tub to heave myself into a sitting position. It helps me level her with a dark, threatening look. “If you don’t take off your clothes and get into this tub, then I’ll come over there and do it for you.”
There’s a beat of tense silence, but it’s broken by her snorted laugh. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she says, lifting her shirt over her head. Smirking, I lean back to watch as she uncovers herself, inch by inch. Her tits are truly something else already, full and heavy and begging to be licked and fondled and sucked. Her baby bump is more obvious now than it was even a couple weeks ago, slightly stretching the elastic of her panties. Unthinkingly, I take her hand to help her into the water, spreading my legs to give her room to settle between them.
It’s a new view for me, looking over her shoulder at the swell of belly that rises out of the water. I press her against my chest and melt back against the tub, letting the sensations of warmth and skin and Story soothe me. I’m just coming off the afternoon shift at the community center, so I’m already tired. It was seven hours of scaring the living daylights out of fucked up teenagers and the even more fucked up adults who think it’s somehow cool to deal to them on our goddamn turf. I don’t think any of us are dumb enough to think we can clean up South Side, but we can at least try to keep the kids sheltered from the reality of it. For a little while, anyway.
In any case, South Side might be my obligation, but I’m doing what I can to make sure I have a career. That means auditions, studio time, and late night performances that pay something adjacent to jack shit. But I never got into music for the glory. Glory is something I’ll earn at my brothers’ sides, with a gun in one hand, and a knife in the other.
Still, the late nights are beginning to make my head throb.
“It’s okay, you know.” The words emerge in a soft breath of air I can feel against my chest.
“What’s okay?”
Her fingertips glide lazily through the water, and I watch them, hypnotized. “That you’re not sure about this yet,” she answers, rubbing her stomach. “I can tell you’re not quite on board. Not like Tris and Killian. But it’s okay.” She twists to meet my gaze, blinking those big, soulful eyes at me. “I just wanted you to know I can wait.”
Brows pulling together, I touch the curve of her jaw, rubbing my thumb into the skin. “You’ve got it all wrong.” She raises a shrewd eyebrow, as if she’s expecting me to deny being a little distant lately. I don’t do her that disservice. “I’m on board for this,” I assure, reaching down to place my palm over the swell of stomach. “I guess I’m just finding out what that looks like. For someone like me.”
She puts her hand over mine, lacing our fingers together. “What do you mean?”
Sighing, I observe our hands on her stomach. It’s so fucking weird to think that there’s a baby in there. A baby I possibly made. “Tristian and Killer would be good dads on their own. I’m not bringing anything to the table for them, you know? But take them away, and what am I? Just a South Side reject with a fine arts degree who wouldn’t even be able to afford rent with it.”