Black Bird (Nevermore Duet #1)

CHAPTER 39

HAPPY CHRISTMAS

Something felt strange. Like his awareness buzzed, even in a heavily medicated sleep, letting him know that there was someone there … someone watching him. Brent’s eyes flew open, and his face darted to his right to find an unexpected visitor sitting Indian-style in a chair next to his bed. She looked up, smiling as she closed a book—a very questionable book for her age—and laid it down in her small lap.

“Well … this is different,” Annie said, fresh-faced and vibrant with life. He couldn’t help but smile at her. “You really do look like hell, Stratford.”

“Your mom and dad letting you read filthy books now?” Brent gestured to the novel she tucked under her oversized sweater.

Annie shrugged. “Well, I did almost meet my maker. What’s the worst that can come out of a bit of light reading?”

“You’ll be a fine lawyer, kid.”

“I’m sorry about your dad …” She twitched her mouth.

“I’m not.”

Annie snorted, “Okay, I lied … I’m sorry about your mom, though.”

Brent reached for the button to incline the bed and sit himself upright. “How’d you hear about that?”

“It’s all over the news. That, and the obvious reason you’re in here.”

He figured now that Conrad was gone, however it leaked didn’t really matter anymore. Now he’d be able to give his mother the funeral she deserved … and without the threat of a feud. “Are you here by yourself?”

“No, my parents are in the cafeteria. I wanted to wait until you woke up. I came to give you your Christmas present.”

He laid his head back against the bed, staring forward and blinking. “Is it Christmas already?”

“Yeah, it’s Christmas Eve.”

Brent looked back at her, and she offered him a tight smile. “You didn’t need to get me anything, kid. I’m happy just to be graced with your presence. You look like you’re feeling so much better.”

“Yeah, about that.” Annie turned her body around and bent over the arm of the chair to pick up a small box wrapped in Christmas paper. She held it in front of her between her two small hands. “ I know … I know your mom told you to pass that blood off to me. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you, your ex, and your mom. I owe all of you my life, and—and I just wanted to say thank you.”

“You already did that, Annie.”

“You lost her because of that.” Her voice broke with emotion, and she eyed him carefully. “I understand we had the same cancer. That’s why your dad sought me out. I think it’s only fair to give you this. You didn’t just take a bullet for that girl he kidnapped, Brent. You took that for all of us.”

“I don’t think I understand what you mean.” Brent’s brows pinched.

“He was a bad man, Brent. Even I knew that, and I’m ten. He did a lot of bad things and hurt a lot of people. People that he was supposed to be looking after. He knew he was poisonous, but … if he were alive to see you like this today? I really believe that it would have changed the man that he was. I feel like whatever part of a father he was to you would have been devastated that he made that mistake.”

Brent sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna diminish that innocence in you, Annie. The young mind that has compassion and sees the good in people. But, I don’t believe that.”

“I do …” She straightened and lifted her chin with such confidence. Brent bristled. “You might not even wanna hear this, but the first day he came into my room with that offer … we talked about you. I might be just a kid, but I’m not stupid. I’ve always been able to tell when my mom and dad were proud of me. I held tight to that on my worst days.” They stared at each other for a long moment. “Your dad might not have shown it enough, but he was proud of you. I think part of him might have even been proud that you weren’t anything like him. Showing that would have made him seem vulnerable, and that’s why he treated you that way.”

His throat tightened, and the doorknob growing in it was hard to swallow around. He dipped his chin. “Thanks, Annie.”

She lowered her legs and leaned forward, bending her small frame over him and pressing a warm kiss to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Stratford.”

Brent pulled her beanie down over her eyes and smiled when she grunted in annoyance. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

Annie pressed the small gift into his hands and pulled back, pointing at it as she turned for the door. “Don’t open that until I leave. I hope it makes your day merry and bright .” She winked over her shoulder, grasping her book in her arm as she opened the door and walked out, softly clicking it shut behind her.

He stared at the door for a few silent moments and then down at the gift in his lap. Slowly, he started unwrapping the box, balling up the paper and tossing it next to his bed. He lifted the lid off, and his breath caught in his throat. It was a bag— a blood bag . The label read Annie’s name, and he blinked once … twice. Sarah’s blood ran through that little girl. A little girl that was cured of cancer … almost within minutes. She was giving him a speedy recovery. A relief to his pain. An end to his suff ering. He unfolded a note written in handwriting that, while childlike, was almost too good for a kid her age.

When you’re ready to use it, call the nurse, and when she answers … tell her you’re ready for your eggnog. We paid her off. She’s waiting to hear from you. Don’t be dumb. I need you to get well so we can start planning our wedding.

-Annie-

Brent smiled, blinking back a tear or two as he folded the note back into the box and fixed the lid. Any apprehension about using it was curbed by his witness to what it did for Annie. The thought of giving it to someone else died with the warning Sarah had given them all about exploiting it. That would have made him no better than his father. Brent bit down on his lip and pressed the call button on his bed.

“Can I help you?” The nurse’s voice answered after a beep.

“Yeah I’m … um … ready for my eggnog ?”

Whatever they had given her was good shit. She’d needed that sleep. Hard, dreamless … block out the world sleep. Wren wondered how much she’d have to pay to have somebody slip her a bit more as her fingers pinched between her eyes, and her mother’s voice scratched on the very last nerve she had.

“None of what they brought is warm enough for this weather. What even is this?” Her mother held up a pair of black tights that Wren had meticulously cut the face of a skull into at the thigh, and snagged runs in all the right places.

“They’re tights, Ma. Put it down,” Wren groaned, pulling her knees to her chest as she leaned against the incline of her bed.

“These should have been thrown away. This generation will be the end of us, I swear it. Tights were meant to warm, and cover. This will do neither. Don’t you have jeans? A pair without holes in them?”

“Nope.”

“What about something that isn’t black?” she asked, digging through the bag Sarah had brought yesterday. They’d allowed her to finally shower, and another glorious thing about being in a stuffy hospital was that the hot water never ran out. While the messy bun that she’d tied up on her head was still messy, it was at least clean, and her sore muscles thanked her for the ease of tension.

“You’re giving me a headache.”

“Well, I’m just trying to help you. They’ll be in here any minute with your discharge papers, and you’ve spent the last few hours sleeping! Maybe that’s why your head hurts. You want me to go ask them if you can have something else?”

“Only if you’re sending them back by themselves. ”

Peggy Vintorri was a force to be reckoned with. She could cut diamonds with the glares she often gave Wren’s father, and not many people deigned to talk to her quite the way Wren did. She gave one of those glares to her as Wren lifted her eyes to meet hers. “You gonna be like this the whole ride to Andover?”

“I already told you; I’m not going.”

“You told us you’d spend Christmas at the house, Wren. If you’d been up there at Thanksgiving, this might not have ever happened!”

“I told you I’d spend Christmas with you before all this happened. I told you not to even come down here, Ma. The ‘coulda, shoulda, woulda’s’ are pretty pointless at this juncture. Sarah will be here in an hour. I don’t need you to stay.”

Peggy’s eyes teared, and she slid the bag over, sitting slowly on the edge of the bed. “I know things haven’t been easy between us, Wren.” She stared forward at the window to the hall, and sniffled. “I think about that fight we had all the time. I know I made too big of a deal about your choices, and your job … but—I just …” her voice broke into a quiet sob, and she put a knuckle to her mouth. Wren fought back her urge to reach for her. “We were one of the last to know that you’d been taken. I thought—” She shook her head and wept.

“It’s alright, Mom. I’m alright.” That fight dwindled, and Wren leaned forward, grabbing Peggy’s hand. “Can you just give me some time to get my life back on track, please? God knows how many makeup sales I missed, or how many lonely guys have been waiting for me to bounce back so I could slither into their bed.”

“Wren Vintorri!” Peggy snapped, jerking her face towards her. Wren grinned and winked at her with her good eye. Her mother snorted and wiped her nose as she softly smiled. “I just want you to be safe. I know you have to grow up and become your own person, Wren. You’ll never know how hard it is to let go until—”

“Until I make a gremlin of my own, I know.” Wren squeezed her hand and offered her a smirk. “I’ll be fine. If I promise to spend a weekend up there in a few weeks, would you finally stop worrying about me and leave?”

“You don’t have to be so snappy about it.”

“I wonder who I get that from?” Wren smiled, rolling one eye.

Peggy shifted on the bed, raising herself from it and straightening her long sweater. “You make sure that girl drives safely. I’m still mad with her.”

“Nothing about it is her fault, and she's not driving. Maybe you’ll feel better if I tell you I’m getting picked up by her detective boyfriend?”

“The one on the news? God, Wren … the people you hang around.”

“Bye, Mother.”

Peggy started to say something else as she shouldered her ugly purse, but stopped when a soft knock at the door interrupted them. She turned and answered, and her hand pressed against her chest. “Oh, my gosh! Bless your heart, sir … I didn’t think I’d get to talk to you this soon!” Wren’s heart skipped when Brent rolled himself into the open doorway in a wheelchair. She pressed herself into the bed. Peggy leaned down without permission and hugged him around his neck, crying again. “Thank you … thank you so much.”

“Ma!” Wren yelled. “Good … bye .”

She huffed, wiping her face and all but stomped her foot at Wren before sniffling and scooting past Brent on her way out. He turned his chin over his shoulder to watch her head down the hall, and then made a face at Wren.

“Please don’t. I’ve had quite enough conversation from and about her for one fucking day.” He grinned at her and cracked the door nearly closed as he wheeled himself over, also making a point to close her blinds from prying eyes in the hall.

“You kinda look like her.”

“If you’re trying to get on my good side today, that’s far from it.” She shuffled from under her blanket and swiveled her legs around the edge of the bed. “What are you doing in here, anyway? I’m honestly shocked to see you wheeling yourself around.”

“I got an interesting Christmas gift from one of Santa’s little helpers. I wanna show you something.”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re cringe-worthy, Brent?” He turned the chair and backed it against the window, securing the brakes.

“Yeah, you do. All the time. You gonna help me?” He threw the blanket off his lap and reached for her hand. Wren sighed, sliding off the bed and helping him stand up. He took it slow and winced a little at some obvious pain but steadied himself enough to pull open the ties on the side of his hospital gown.

Wren’s eye widened and she looked up at him nervously. “Uhh … what are you—what are you doing?”

“Relax …” Brent smirked, making sure his junk was covered before sliding the opening of the gown to his middle. Wren swallowed hard and hesitantly looked down to where he’d peeled his bandages off. “Look.”

“What the f— how? ” She leaned in, and his gunshot wound was mostly closed, healing unbelievably well … and unbelievably fast . She shot her eyes back up to his. “Did Sarah—”

“Yes, and no. It was Annie.”

“That kid?”

Brent nodded slowly, holding the gown in place over his lower half. Wren’s eyes caught a faint reflection over his shoulder in the glass and snorted a laugh, covering her mouth. Brent’s brows drew together.

“What?” he asked, looking over his shoulder and realizing what she was giggling at. “Oh …”

“Nice ass.” Wren laughed, bracing herself on his shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks …” Brent flushed, fixing the issue and tying off the gown. “I work out.”

“Jesus,” she shook her head. “Look, for the sake of … whatever this is? Can you not say douchey shit like that? I literally—”

“Shut me up then, Wren. ”

Whatever she’d been about to say, she choked on. They both went uncomfortably still, and she must have swallowed about a dozen times while they stared each other down. He took an unsteady step closer, and she could practically feel his body heat through her black tank top and pajamas. There were only a few inches of space left between them, but she couldn’t figure out how to move. Couldn’t figure out if she wanted to …

“Next move is yours. I don’t know what the future holds, but … I can tell you a little bit about what I’ve realized in the past few weeks. Especially in the last few days.”

“Tell me,” Wren choked out, swallowing again.

“You’re the most annoying pain in the ass I’ve ever met. You make me wanna rip my fucking hair out. I can’t stand the way your voice changes when you fire off whatever insult you cook up to throw at me, and I really hate that you’re unnervingly gorgeous when you do. I think if that guy at Bunker’s had tried to say anything else, I would have probably snapped his neck.” Wren’s breathing kicked up, and her face felt warm. “I think I’ve been talking myself out of wanting to kiss you ever since that day. And I think if you don’t do it right now, then I’m gonna find myself wishing that bullet—”

Wren leaned forward, closing the space, and hushing him with her mouth. He closed his eyes and melted into her, bringing his arms around her waist while she slipped hers around his neck. His lips were full, and soft … they felt almost damn perfect against hers, and the way he kissed her back—why was it so good ? Both his hands flattened against the small of her back, pressing her closer against him and neither one of them apparently had the good sense to breathe. Or maybe the faint feeling she had were the sparks she’d told Sarah she hadn’t had the misfortune of crumbling under. That stench of romance that she’d desperately tried to outrun was catching up with her and threatening to smother the shower she’d finally been able to take.

“Damn it, Stratford …” Wren whispered into his mouth, hanging on his bottom lip and reaching into his hair. Brent raised a hand to the side of her face and kissed her again, this time with a little tongue. It sent an insane fluttering to her stomach that raged and craved more. “I’m starting to think bestie might have been lying about you.”

“I don’t understand why you keep asking me about it, Athan. That couch was free, and the springs cut into my ass every time I sat on it,” Sarah argued over her shoulder as she and Athan trudged to the elevator on the lower floor to the hospital.

“But it was yours, and mine takes up so much more space in there. I just don’t want—”

Sarah spun on her heel to face him, and he nearly ran into her when she stopped in front of him. “Would you stop?” She gripped the open zipper on his jacket and smirked. “It’s not my place anymore. It’s our place. The couch stays. Besides … ‘lotta good memories on that couch.” Athan loosed a low rumble of a growl as his mouth curled up in the corner. His eyes dripped with sin. “I know this is gonna take some getting used to, but I already love the idea of coming home to my shitty apartment and having a little bit of both of us in it. Relax. I couldn’t be more happy, okay?”

“ ‘Kay …” He smiled, mocking the very thing she said when she’d taken his gun over to the couch that night.

“You’re killing me.” Sarah bit down on her lip and turned back towards the elevator, feeling him close behind.

“Then let’s hurry and get her home so we can … rearrange the furniture .”

“I really fucking hope this elevator is empty.” Sarah shook her head. The doors opened and Peggy stepped out, meeting eyes with them both. “Peggy … how are you?” Wren’s mother gave her a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes and paused in front of them.

“You better take care of her. And next time, bring her some clothes that are actually clothes . It’s freezing out.” She stared Athan up and down, narrowing her eyes. “I want her home for New Years.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Sarah offered, pocketing her hands while she tightened them into fists. Peggy gave her another stern look.

“The next time something like this happens with my daughter, and you don’t call—”

“There won’t be a next time, ma’am.” Athan’s voice was a combination of flattery and an utter threat—however that was possible. Sarah smiled.

“Good. Enjoy your Christmas.” She didn’t say another word, instead pushing between them and making haste for the entrance to the hospital. They both turned and watched her leave.

“Damn … she’s a little ball of sunshine,” Athan smirked.

“Yeah, and Wren swears her hair gets bigger the more pissed off she gets.”

Athan cocked his head, continuing to stare at Peggy until she was out of sight. “It’s pretty fucking big,” he snorted.

“She’s kind of a bitch, but she wears that hat pretty well.”

Athan shot her a knowing smile. “You do know that’s Wren in forty years.”

“Get in the elevator, stupid.”

Sadly, they ended up having to share the elevator with a couple of nurses, and a quiet old woman who never took her eyes off Athan. Sarah couldn’t tell if she was afraid of him, fascinated, or in need of another adult diaper. It was an effort not to laugh. The elevator finally dinged, and they chuckled, shaking their heads on the way out and heading down the hall to Wren’s room. The blinds were shut, but the door was cracked open, so Sarah assumed she was decent.

She was only half wrong.

Her hand froze on the door handle when she caught a glimpse of Wren through the crack in the door—straddling Brent’s lap in his wheelchair. They both looked completely undone, tearing over each other’s mouths and breathing heavily. Sarah turned her head to look up at Athan, who pinched the bridge of his nose.

Umm … maybe we should give them a minute.

Athan snorted through his nose and shook his head.

Unless I’ve read her all wrong these past couple of months, I think she’s gonna need more than a minute. Stratford’s looked a little strung up for a while, too.

“Excuse me,” a nurse said from behind them. “I need to go over her discharge paperwork. Are you here to pick her up?”

Sarah turned her back to the door, covering the crack and blocking her way. “Y-yes … I can take it. She’s umm … changing.” Athan chuckled at her side.

“Oh.” The nurse smiled, looking at him. She flushed a shade of red, and promptly dropped her eyes.

Wise choice.

“If you wanna sign these, that’s fine. I’ll need your I.D. Then if you can just give her this packet and pick up her prescriptions on your way out. The pharmacy is—”

“Downstairs, I know. Thank you.” Sarah dug her license out of her wallet, and followed the nurse to the station, signing a few things and taking the stack of papers. When she returned, Athan stood watch at the door and nodded to let her know it was safe to come in. They knocked and inched the door open. Brent stayed put in his wheelchair, and Wren sat, flushed and disheveled, on the edge of her bed.

“Morning.” Athan smirked, eyeing her. Wren feigned innocence and reached for a styrofoam cup on her cart.

“Morning. You’re early … I didn’t think you’d be here for another hour.” She sipped from her straw and cleared her throat.

“I figured you’d be ready to get outta here. The room service is only tolerable for so long.” Sarah smiled, raising a brow. “Looks like they’ve been doing a shitty job though … both lips look swollen now.”

“A real shitty job … Stratford’s look a bit plump, too,” Athan added, looking in his direction. Brent sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and blushed.

Wren cleared her throat and shot Sarah a look. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” Her smile was anything but innocent. Sarah huffed a laugh.

“Are you ready? I’ve got your shit.”

“Yeah, I just—” She flashed that one good eye at Brent. “I just need to change real quick.” Brent clicked his tongue and there was a long, awkward silence between them all before he started to turn his chair.

“I’ll um … make myself scarce,” he choked, nodding at Wren and wheeling towards them at the door. Athan picked up a magazine and opened it, smiling at him.

“Before you go …” He grinned, offering it to Brent. “There’s a pretty good article in here … about camping .” Brent turned a deeper shade of red and took the magazine—placing it in a particularly convenient position in his lap.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake …” Wren whispered, palming her face. Sarah broke into laughs, and Brent smiled at Athan, who winked at him.

“Appreciate that.” Brent wheeled his chair slightly forward.

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Athan’s chuckle was all Wren needed to plop forward into her pillow in humiliation. Sarah scooted around the back of Brent’s wheelchair and grabbed the handles.

“Let’s go for a little walk, Brent.”

So … they obviously got caught. This was awkward. Sarah wasn’t seeming to let him wheel himself, and Brent gave up hope that trying to would stop the conversation they were undoubtedly about to have from coming to fruition. He held the magazine steady in his lap and swallowed down his embarrassment as they passed nurses and visitors in the halls.

He cleared his throat. “Sarah, I—”

“You don’t have to do that, Brent.”

He wasn’t a hundred percent sure he understood whether or not she was upset about it. After two years together, one would think he’d be able to decipher that by now. What did that say about the relationship they’d had? “Are you pissed at me? I can understand if you are, I—it probably isn’t right, to be honest. She's your best friend, and …”

“And you took a bullet for her,” Sarah finished, slowing as they came to his room. She let him wheel himself inside, and he turned the chair to face her. Her arms were crossed, and she softly shut the door. “I know there’s been a lot of confusion on what’s right and wrong here, Brent. I’m not upset with you. I’m not upset with either of you, and honestly … as strange as it is to say … I’m glad it was you.”

Something in his chest tightened. “You’re glad?”

“I am. Regardless of what mistakes you made, I know what kind of person you really are. Hell, I’ve been trying to convince Wren of that for two years.” She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “All bullshit aside … I—thank you. For doing what you did. I know after getting shot trying to protect somebody, it seems really stupid to say, but … please don’t hurt her, Brent. Promise me you won’t hurt her. I’d really hate to have to actually kill you.”

He winced as he huffed a deep laugh, pressing his hand into his still tender belly. “Honestly, I would be more worried about the opposite. I think we could agree on that.”

“You’d be right.” There was a long stretch of silence between them, and Sarah broke it finally as she stepped towards him. “Want me to help you back into bed?”

Brent threw a palm up. “No, no … you’re good. I, um … think I need to sit just a little bit longer.” His eyes dipped momentarily to his maga zine and Sarah snorted. He lifted his eyes back to hers. “He’s growing on me. The detective?”

“You’re full of shit.”

“No, I mean it. Not just because—because I just made out with your best friend.” He laughed softly, heat gracing his cheeks. “I think you’re with who you should be, Sarah. For what it’s worth, you never looked at me that way, and … you seem really happy. Even he seems like he’s changed. You kinda have that effect.”

Sarah smirked. “I do, don’t I?”

He kept his smile and lowered his head. “You do. I can tell he loves you. The real deal. I think I knew it a while back, actually. I can understand it … you know, as a man.”

“There must be some kind of bro-code I’m missing here. Athan said that exact same shit about you not long ago.”

“Did he?”

“Men are so strange. Utterly exhausting.” She slipped her hands into her jacket pockets, and he looked up at her red shirt, drawing his brows together. Sarah looked down, and then back to him. “What?”

“Santa’s dirty bitch?” Brent grinned, shaking his head.

She shrugged. “Did you expect anything else? I’m getting in touch with my Christmas spirit.” She turned and put a hand on the door handle. “You know … I wasn’t the one sitting in a hospital room with a boner, and sucking face with a redheaded cyclops while she sat on your jingle balls … you dirty bitch .” Her wink was scandalous, and he cowered in bashfulness. “Happy Christmas, Brent.”

He smiled genuinely and nodded. “Happy Christmas, Sarah.”

Ten minutes they’d been bickering back and forth about Wren’s hotheaded, mouthy mother. The fact that they’d caught her getting fresh with Stratford surprisingly hadn’t come up at all. It wasn’t really a surprise, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t shocked to find them lip-locked in a hospital room. When they got close to his old building, Wren finally realized where they were.

“Wait—I needed to go by my place. Grab some clothes.” She pressed a palm to the window.

Sarah looked over at him and Athan smiled at her, taking her hand. “Why don’t we go see Rhaena first? She’s been dying to put some responsibility back where it belongs regarding your cat.” Wren inhaled sharply and leaned her chin over the seat.

“Is he doing okay?”

“He’s obese, Wren. It’s kind of pathetic.” Athan’s smile stretched wide. Wren smacked him in the arm.

“The only one allowed to call him fat is me. Watch your fangs, Blood Daddy . ”

“I missed you too.” Athan chuckled, pulling into the parking structure.

They piled out of the elevator, and Wren fidgeted with her tights as they stopped in front of his old apartment door. When she looked up, she lowered her brows, and her good eye caught Rhaena’s door instead. “Are we not going to Rhaena’s?”

“We gotta grab something first,” Sarah winked. Athan slipped the key into the door and opened it. It was pitch black inside, his old curtains serving immaculate purpose in the harsh noon sunlight. They stepped inside and closed the door before flipping on the lights. Denver meowed and darted towards Wren, bashing into her legs and twining his pudgy body around them. Her mouth dropped open, and she picked him up, wide-eyed as she looked around the apartment.

“Oh my—oh, my God.” Her fingers pressed against her lips as she inched into the living room, finding her entire apartment moved in. She shot her face back toward them. “What did you do?!”

“He … uh … sort of moved in with me.” Sarah smiled, shrugging her shoulders as Athan slid an arm around her. “We figured maybe you wouldn’t wanna go back to the old place. That you’d feel safer being next door to Rhaena. Plus … you know, the whole sleeping on her couch thing had to be getting old by now.”

“You didn’t move out because of me—”

“No.” Athan shook his head. “Sarah offered, I accepted. Couldn’t let an opportunity like this go to waste. Rhaena wasn’t standing for anybody else moving in next door, other than you. Everything just seemed to make the most sense this way. It’s yours, if you want it.” He dangled the keys from his finger.

“Are you kidding? Of course I do!” Wren’s eyes teared up, and she stormed forward, hugging them both. “Thank you … holy shit, thank you.”

“Merry Christmas, bitch.” Sarah kissed her cheek. Athan smiled, awkwardly hugging her and handing her the keys. The door to the apartment opened with a soft knock, and Rhaena peeked in, Jenkins right behind her.

“Hey, twat-waffle …” Rhaena grinned, stepping inside. Wren didn’t appear to have many words left as she cried a little harder, and tackled Rhaena. Denver scurried back into the living room. “I brought you your car keys. It’s parked on the upper level. Didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Wren sniffled, wiping her nose. “Thank you all, so much.”

Athan felt the strangest warmth standing here with all of them, and it threatened to chip away at his brooding facade. He shifted uncomfortably and smirked at Wren.

“Alright. I’m outta here. This shit is way too sappy for me.” He started to turn, and every single one of them—including Jenkins, made an over exaggerated attempt to smother him in affection. His back pressed against the wall, and everywhere he looked, there were arms reaching around to hug him. “No!” he yelped, wrestling them off. “It’s too much! Bunch of fuckin’— get! ”