Page 46

One Week Later

THEO

J ared finds me sitting on the edge of our property, overlooking the cliff as I get some space and quiet from the house. Mr. Reyes even refused to leave, and has been conducting his business in our house.

The only upside is that he’s discussing having Lili’s father bring down Dr. Michaels so we can all get our licks in before he gets put down for good. Mr. Cruz also misses his daughter, so it’ll work out. Ugh, another fucking person in our damn house.

“Taking a break, huh?” he murmurs.

“Yeah, it’s not just the amount of people in our house. It’s large enough that I can get by,” I mumble.

I also have ghosts living in my space now.

Ignacio with his stupid hot body and cum gutters keep mocking me because the man refuses to wear a shirt.

The deep vee points straight to his dick, and his grey sweatpants may as well be a pair of speedos for as much as they hide exactly nothing.

I think he does it on purpose, at least his smirk tells me he does.

I shouldn’t think about him like this, not after everything that’s happened, but it’s the worst kind of edging to still be attracted to him. After everything, I don’t hate Ignacio, I just miss what we had.

“Ignacio is too damn gorgeous for his own good,” Jared says, as if reading my mind. “The pool is cold enough that it helps when I get too overheated. Otherwise, don’t be surprised if I end up dragging you or Elijah off to fuck.”

A startled laugh escapes me, and I shake my head. I haven’t felt much like laughing lately, but this feels good.

“It’s really unfair,” I complain. “I need to talk to Rachelle, and I’m not looking forward to it.”

“You’re her personal trainer and torturer, of course you’re not,” Jared says knowingly.

“You get to play the sweet husband, it’s not fair,” I groan.

“Even still, she’s a brat to me,” Jared mutters. “Rachelle is working on some things for her online classes. I think she’s already feeling stir crazy. If she doesn’t get her body moving, she won’t recover her muscle mass, Theo. You’re the best person to piss her off enough to do it.”

“I’m so glad that I can be of service in this way,” I mutter. “Ugh. Let’s see what she’s made of. She’s been a sassy little thing I noticed.”

“Isn’t it great?” Liliana asks behind me, flicking the back of my head before she sits next to me. “You better hurry up if you’re going to do your thing. I just saw her head nodding.”

While Rachelle is restless, her energy is still shit. She’s mostly stuck to protein smoothies while her throat heals and her stomach has been extra sensitive too.

“Did the bomb threat get called in yet?” I ask, wanting to do something that’ll make me feel better.

“Elijah placed them all on his last day,” Jared reminds me. “We decided that you can have that honor.”

There’s been a lot of behind the scenes shit going on, and getting federal agents to get their ducks in a row has been exceedingly frustrating. Today is finally the day things will go boom, and I fist pump the air in a rare moment of excitement.

“Fuck yeah!” I yell, enjoying their grins as I get up and pull out my phone. One of the reasons for the bomb threat is that the Oxnard Facility for Mental Health’s employees refuse to open their doors for anyone who appears to be a government official.

We managed to find the nurse Rachelle killed, and pointed the FBI in that direction after receiving confirmation that she would never face charges.

The nurse clearly was at fault for hurting Rachelle first. The FBI doesn’t even have Rachel Thompson Denton’s name, as they are working from conjecture and the files Elijah sent to our lawyers.

It’s been a complicated road, but at the end of the day what matters is I also get to blow up a building. I mean, justice will be served, just not in the way most people would go about it.

I have the facility’s number on speed dial and my number is blocked so they won’t be able to find me.

“ Hello, this is the Oxnard Facility for Mental Health. How may I assist you? ” a woman asks. Jared told me often how awful this woman was, and I curl my lip in disgust.

Liliana and Jared watch from the ground as I speak, though Jared shoots a text to Elijah to tell him to come outside. We promised that no matter who made the call, we’d be together. I find myself wishing Ignacio was here as well, but smile as Elijah comes outside with him.

Putting my finger to my lips, I hit the speaker button so they can hear her as well.

“ Hello, is there anyone there?”

Fuck me, the twunt is impatient.

“Yes, did you know your building is currently wired to explode in the next fifteen minutes?” I ask her. “This is not a game, and I am not joking. Get everyone out. Tick tock, bitch.”

“ Wait. We have people who can’t leave,” she says urgently.

Lie , Elijah mouths, shaking his head. The only patient who was hooked up to a feeding tube in the entire facility was Rachelle. While we’ve been putting our plans into place and the facility had Elijah floating all over, he was also checking medical files at the nurses stations.

If anyone would know if this woman is lying, it's him.

“That’s cute,” I growl. My voice is deeper and darker than my usual. Even if she’s attempting to record it, it’ll not do her a lick of good. “Ta-ta. Best get moving. The authorities are on their way to watch the fireworks.”

“ Wait!” she screams, but I’ve already hung up.

Setting an alarm for seventeen minutes just to play fair, I glance up at my audience.

“I love how you don’t fuck around,” Ignacio says with a smirk. “It’s shit or get off the pot.”

“Everyone should be this way,” I say with a shrug. “The world would move so much faster. Now, I have a girl to torture, ah, coach.”

“Uh-huh. I think the first one was more accurate,” Liliana calls after me as I walk toward the house.

We haven’t had a conversation this easy in years. While part of the reason is that we are banding together for common goals, I’m also fucking tired of being at odds. It’s an adjustment to have extra people in our home, but not a bad one.

I just need space sometimes so I can emotionally regulate. Just because it seems as if I don’t have any, doesn’t mean I don’t. They simply present themselves differently than other people.

Opening the door, I walk inside to find Rachelle.

“The afternoon appears to get the best of her,” Mr. Reyes says under his breath as he sees me, glancing into the living room. “It’s like her eyes just won’t stay open.”

“I bet part of it is the lighting, and some of it is not sleeping well still,” I say, continuing inside. Clapping my hands loudly, I refuse to allow any emotion to show when she startles so hard her body jerks. Fuck. “Up and at ‘em, cupcake. We have a date with some cardio.”

“Ugh, it’s Coach Ken,” she groans. God, she’s so not wrong. If Ken and the army had a love child, they’d get me.

“Very cute. Put the laptop away. I heard from some chatty birdies that you were falling asleep anyway,” I say.

“Traitors,” she mutters, tossing the laptop onto a couch cushion as she gets up. Rachelle is wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top because it’s warm inside of the house, which means I can see the way her muscles shake.

“Ya know what,” I murmur. “Go put on your bathing suit. I think we should do this on the sundeck in the pool. You’ll be able to hold on and go through the exercises I have planned. We’ll work up to other stuff.”

“Are you sure we can’t just stay on dry land?” she asks, the blood draining out of her face.

“Positive,” I say, swallowing hard. I never thought she’d still be feeling the effects of the river the day we threw her in. It’s clear that she is, and I’ve read some of it within the text of her journal.

However, I’m not supposed to have that, which means my sympathy has no business raising its head here. I always thought I didn’t have that emotion, but it turns out I have selective empathy. I looked it up when I felt myself feeling it, because I was really fucking confused.

I thought I was misfiring somehow and broken.

“Let’s go,” I say, tugging on her hand. “Shorts and a sports bra will work if you don’t have a bathing suit.”

Glaring at me, Rachelle pulls back her hand and yanks off her shirt to throw it at me. Unfortunately for me, she is wearing a black sports bra. She stomps out of the living room as I follow her and Calvin looks from her to me in confusion.

“We’ll need a towel or two please,” I tell him, trailing her outside to the pool.

“What’s this?” Liliana asks, brow raised as Rachelle rolls her eyes and pushes down her shorts.

Again, she’s wearing a pair of boyshorts that cover her ass, but this may as well be cute lingerie to me. Elijah and Jared stare as she steps down into the sun deck portion of the pool and sits, looking over her shoulder as if to ask what she should do next.

“Her muscles aren’t ready for a weight room, and having her fall on her ass on the treadmill isn’t the type of exercise I’m going for,” I explain. “The water‘s buoyancy will help reduce the strain on her joints and muscles so she can build the type of strength she needs.”

“That’s a good idea,” Jared agrees. “Why is she in her underwear though?”

“Your wife is a fucking brat,” I grunt, smirking as he barks out a laugh.

“Is it too cold?” he asks.

Her lips are quivering, so he takes that as the agreement that it is. Hitting a switch on the pool’s system, he nods.

“It’ll be warmer soon, wifey,” he says teasingly. “I’ll have to switch it off if you start to fall asleep though.”

“Dick,” Rachelle mutters under her breath, turning as she submerges her body while holding onto the ledge.

The peanut gallery goes inside, while I get to work to warm up her muscles.

“Push away from the wall and keep your head out of the pool by treading water,” I tell her, crouching down to watch.