Page 33 of All That We Keep (Always Yours #3)

Luca

With the others out at the gala, I have absolutely no responsibilities, nothing pressing, except the nagging feeling that I won’t have a lot of time after tonight. Which is why I tell Grayson that I want to focus on the nursery with the last bit of strength I have.

Setting up the small room feels like playing house in the most wonderful way possible.

We're giggling and messing around as we arrange the furniture for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find the perfect placement for everything.

The cribs look beautiful against the far wall, positioned so I can see both babies from the rocking chair without having to turn my head.

"What do you think about putting the changing table here?" Grayson asks, pushing the white wooden piece closer to the window. "The natural light might be good for diaper changes."

I waddle over to examine the new arrangement, my belly making even simple movements more challenging than they used to be. "I like it. And we can put the mobile over the cribs once it arrives."

"The one with the little stars and moons?" Grayson's face lights up with enthusiasm. "That's going to be perfect."

I love how invested he is in every detail, how he treats this space like it's the most important project in the world. The care he puts into making sure everything is perfect for James and Samuel makes my heart swell. The others don’t really know it yet but Grayson has mentioned taking an extended leave to stay at home with me and I’m so excited. He’s going to be a great daddy.

"So," Grayson says as he adjusts the angle of the rocking chair slightly, "have you thought about feeding preferences? Breastfeeding versus bottle feeding? And what about schools eventually?"

Heat floods my cheeks immediately, embarrassment making me duck my head.

"I haven't really thought about any of that," I admit. "Just a few months ago, I was in a situation where I never even thought I would have any of that. The idea of making choices about schools and feeding schedules still feels surreal." I’ve browsed through them on my phone every now and then but they’re such big choices that I’ve started avoiding it.

Grayson stops what he's doing and moves closer to me, his expression softening.

"Hey," he says, pulling me into his arms despite my awkward belly getting in the way.

"You are able to have all of that. Every single piece of it. You get to make decisions about how to raise the boys, what kind of life you want them to have, and what values you want to teach them. We also don’t have to do all of that now. I was just asking."

I lean into his embrace, breathing in his comforting scent as tears threaten to spill over. "Sometimes I still can't believe this is real. That I have you, that I have all of you, that I'm going to be a father to these perfect babies."

"It's real," Grayson murmurs against my hair. "You deserve every bit of happiness, sweetheart. You deserve to have the family you've always dreamed of."

My phone buzzes with a text message, interrupting the emotional moment.

I pull it out to see a picture from Blake, and I can't help but grin at what I see.

"He looks really hot," I say, showing Grayson the photo of Blake in his perfectly tailored suit, two fingers held up in a peace sign as he poses for the camera.

Grayson chuckles as he looks at the image. "Yeah, he does. Maybe we'll get you in a suit soon too."

"Once these babies are out, I'm not wearing anything restrictive," I say with a laugh. "Right now I can barely handle elastic waistbands." I’ve been waddling around in one of my Alphas’ shirts and sometimes Maceo’s while stuffing myself into their shorts, the waistband hanging below my belly so I don’t feel restricted.

"Fair enough," Grayson agrees, still smiling. "Comfort is definitely the priority."

My stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly, making both of us laugh. "Can we get something to eat and then lay down? I'm exhausted from all this furniture arranging."

"Absolutely, baby," Grayson says, helping me navigate around the furniture toward the door. It’s not even all in the right place as we make our way toward the kitchen, my hands supporting my belly. The babies have been even more active than they were yesterday, shifting and kicking in ways that make me think they might come today. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing but I haven’t actually wrapped my head around the birth part of the equation.

As we pass through the living area, a sound from the garage has me tensing up, which is strange because we don't really use that space.

We usually just park in the driveway for convenience.

I frown, listening more carefully, but the sound stops.

Maybe it was just the house settling or something outside.

But then I hear it again, more distinctly this time.

"Hey, Grayson," I say, my voice wobbling a little. "I think something's in the garage."

Grayson stops and listens, his expression growing alert as he focuses on the sounds I'm hearing.

Then a light flips on, shining through the small window facing the kitchen.

My heart jumps into my throat, palpitations making it hard to breathe as panic starts to set in.

This house is supposed to be secure, protected by multiple locks and security systems. No one should be able to get inside without us knowing.

Grayson immediately moves in front of me, his gaze darting back toward the stairs.

If we move now, whoever is in the garage would have direct access to me and could easily yank me away from my Alpha.

Grayson pushes me back against the counter, the back door opening as Hudson steps into a view, a scream tearing from my throat.

My nightmare is here.

However, he looks worse than I've ever seen him.

His clothes are wrinkled and dirty, his hair unkempt, and there's something wild in his eyes that sends terror shooting through my veins.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Didn’t the fucking police pick you up?

How the fuck did you get out?" Grayson snarls, his Alpha instincts flaring with protective rage. "How dare you come into our house?"

"I just need to talk," Hudson says, his voice carrying that deceptively calm tone I remember from the worst of his abuse.

"We're done talking," Grayson replies, his voice growing more dangerous. "There should have been a conversation when you first took Luca back in college, but we're way past talking now. You've hurt Luca, you've beaten him, you've abused him, you've hurt my family. Get the fuck out of my house."

"No, no, I'm really just here to talk," Hudson insists, but there's something in his posture that suggests otherwise.

"Yeah, but I don't believe you," Grayson says, his muscles coiled and ready. "Because I heard you tried to steal the Vizant’s Omega the other day."

Hudson's mask slips slightly, revealing the desperation underneath. "I have bills to pay. Just let me take him, and you can pretend I was never here."

The casual way he talks about taking me, like I'm property to be transferred, makes my blood run cold. This is exactly what I've been terrified of, exactly what Luther and the others have been trying to protect me from.

"I'm not letting you take anything," Grayson growls. "You can't have anything."

Hudson's composure finally breaks completely, and he comes barreling toward us with the kind of desperate violence I remember all too well. Grayson immediately moves to intercept him, his body colliding with Hudson's in a tangle of limbs and fury.

"I'm going to protect my family regardless of what happens to you," Grayson shouts as they struggle.

Punches land with sickening thuds as they crash onto the floor, rolling back and forth as they fight for dominance.

Grayson ends up with Hudson on top of him, and terror floods through me as Hudson reaches toward me with one grasping hand.

I press myself back further, my arms protectively wrapped around my belly as tears stream down my cheeks.

Just before Hudson’s fingers reach me, Grayson grabs Hudson's ankle and pulls him back down, both men hitting the ground hard.

I scramble toward the landline phone, but when I pick up the receiver there's no dial tone.

“Fuck!” I cry out, a whine following as I dig in my pockets for my cell phone, the picture of Blake still displayed on the screen.

But when I try to make a call, I see that I have no service at all.

The signal bars show nothing, like something is actively jamming the connection.

That’s when it hits me. This was planned. Hudson didn't just break in randomly. This was a coordinated attack and whether or not Kai Vizant knew it, he just helped separate me and my mates so it was easier to get to me.

"I can't get anybody on the phone," I call out, my voice shaking with terror. "I don't know what's going on. Alpha, please."

"You're mine," Hudson pants as he continues struggling with Grayson. "You've always been mine. I owe a debt."

"He's never been yours," Grayson snarls back, managing to land a solid punch to Hudson's ribs. "He's always been mine. He was ours first. He was Blake's first. You tried to ruin him and break him, and I'm not going to let that happen."

Grayson's words give me strength even in my terror.

He's right. I belonged to Blake and him long before Hudson ever took me. The love we shared in college was real, even if circumstances tore us apart. The fight continues, both men bloodying the other but neither giving ground. Then Grayson manages to grab something from beside him, one of his parents’ ugly decorative vases, and brings it down hard across Hudson's head.

The impact makes a horrible cracking sound, and Hudson immediately goes limp, collapsing on top of Grayson before rolling to the side.

At the same moment, sirens erupt in the background, steadily growing closer as if someone sensed there was an issue at this residence.

Relief floods through me as I stumble forward, reaching out for my Alpha but he shakes his head.

"Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" Grayson asks, breathing heavily as he sits up and pushes Hudson's unconscious form away from him.

"I'm fine," I manage to say, though I'm shaking from head to toe.

"Stay over there," Grayson warns, wiping blood from a cut on his lip. "I don't know if he's still conscious. Stay over there until someone comes to the door. Just take a seat. How are you doing? Are the babies okay?"

I rest my hands on my belly, taking inventory of how I'm feeling. "I'm okay. They're moving around more than usual, but I think they're okay."

The sirens are getting louder now, and within minutes we hear a firm knock on the door followed by an authoritative voice: "Police, open up."

Grayson pushes to his feet carefully, still keeping an eye on Hudson's motionless form as he gathers me up against his side and then moves to answer the door.

I watch as Ward and several other detectives spill inside, their eyes immediately taking in the scene of destruction and Hudson's unconscious body.

But something doesn't make sense. I never actually called 911. I couldn't get through on either the landline or my cell phone. Confusion mixes with my relief as I try to process what's happening. Ward's presence feels both reassuring and somehow wrong, though I can't put my finger on why.

"Oh no," Ward says, his voice full of concern as he surveys the damage.

"Let's get you down to the station so the others can clean this up and take care of Hudson. I’d have you stay here but I have no idea who else he’d be working with, so until we can ensure your safety, I think the station might be the best place. "

Grayson doesn't say anything, just nods wearily as the other officers begin photographing the scene and checking on Hudson's condition.

The adrenaline is starting to wear off, leaving me exhausted and shaky.

I glance at my Alpha as he keeps his arms wrapped around me, the confusion I feel showing in his expression.

He knows that there’s something wrong, too, even if he doesn’t know what it is.