Page 70 of Retribution

Now that I’m closer to her, I can smell the scent of smoke coming from her skin.

“I need a shower,” she admits, wincing. “The baby…dammit she needs a name. Let me finish telling you how I found her and then we can decide if you’re going to help me name her or not.”

Fuck me, she still thinks that we’re going to reject her.

“No,” I growl. “No, no! You seem to be forgetting something,topolina.”

“And what is that?” she asks, shifting in her seat, yawning. I’m not surprised that she’s tired. I am not above getting her to move in to offer her extra hands.

I don’t care if this isn’t my house. I live here, which means that I have a say in my omega moving in with us. Let’s be honest though.

Lucas will kiss me stupid if I manage to swing this.

“No one is walking away. Least of all me,” I say. “I don’t know where anyone else stands on kids, but I have a large family. I got to see them while I was in Italy and it was lovely. Sometimes I miss how loud it all is. My apartment is too silent. It’s nice to always have someone around while I’m here.”

“I get that,” Oliver admits. “Not the large family, but living alone. I like being here. The only thing missing is you.”

“Pump the brakes,” Isolde squeaks. “Babies are messy, right?”

Rita walks in, grinning as she sees the baby.

“Cleaning messes is my specialty,” she shrugs. “There’s not much here that a little thing like that can break. Besides, Lucas would level this place without thinking for you.”

“Why do I have to hate this house so much,” Isolde groans. “It’s too big for me.”

“Fuck it, I’ll move in with you,” I decide. “Finish what you have to say, but know that abambinaisn’t going to make me run away screaming.”

“Oh,” Rita says, realizing how heavy this conversation is. “If it helps, Lucas is wonderful with children. Can I get you anything, Isolde? You look a little tired.”

“I didn’t sleep much,” Isolde says, another yawn almost breaking her jaw. “I would love some coffee, please.”

“Ah, have you eaten?” I ask.

“Not a thing,” she winces.

“I’ll put something together before coffee,” Rita decides, escaping the room.

“Finish the story so we can take care of you,” Oliver says.

Isolde looks down at thebambina, smiling as she sees the little girl is asleep. Lifting the bottle away, Isolde catches the dribble of milk that is escaping thebambina’slips.

“I was only in the house as long as I was because I forgot my leather jacket in one of the biker’s bedrooms. Can you imagine if I’d done one thing differently…”

Isolde gasps as tears begin to slide down her cheeks, and that makes me freeze.

“She was in a fucking closet,” she sobs. “Someone stuck her there in the bassinet and completely forgot about her. Who does that?”

“Someone who doesn’t deserve her,” I decide. “I don’t need to know anymore. Do you, Oliver?”

“Nope,” he grunts, moving over to sit on her other side. “How do you change a sleeping babies’ diaper?”

Sobbing harder as she also smiles, she shrugs. “I expect…very carefully.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Isolde moves her so that thebambinais laying across her lap while she still cradles her, and Oliver opens the bottom of her onesie.

“Why are there so many snaps?” he asks.