Violent Angel (Pretty Broken Things #1)

25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

T he day Damon’s parents died, he gave up. Sure, he was still technically alive, and he went through the motions, but it didn’t hit him for the longest time that he should do more. Survivor’s guilt took over the life his father saved, and the only time Damon wasn’t wishing he’d drowned was when he spiraled out of control.

Since meeting Elliot, other than a trip up or two, when he questioned his own worth and earned himself a punch— totally normal, healthy response—Damon sensed something building up inside him. Something he hoped would make his parents proud, even if they were up there in the afterlife, heaven or whatever, scratching their heads over his more questionable choices.

I’m grateful, Dad. I’m sorry it took me so long.

Fuck, I miss you. And I miss Mom.

But I’m not gonna waste my life anymore.

I’m gonna live. I’m gonna love.

And now and then…I’m gonna kick some serious ass.

Pulling into the underground parking of The Inn, Damon got out and ran to Winter’s door to lift Tig out, giving him a reassuring smile as he set him down a bit out of the way, then got in position to carefully lift Parker and carry him to wherever the doctor would be setting up.

Loud, rapid steps, along with a sharp rolling noise, coming toward him from behind, almost had him dropping Parker’s limp body to grab his gun.

“Careful. You let him go and I’ll brain you, driver.” Gerard rolled the gurney up to them with his husband and Dr. Fisher, the doctor leaning over Parker the second he was laid on it. “All of you, out of the way.”

Virgil shot him a warning look. “Don’t make me hit you again, love.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

From the angry blotch covering Gerard’s cheek, the pair had settled a recent disagreement the same way Damon and Elliot did. In the civilian world, it would raise all kinds of red flags, but here, where every action could mean life or death?

Okay, still raises red flags, but if Elliot didn’t knock some sense into me, I wouldn’t be breathing.

And from the cold looks Gerard was getting from his men?

Without Virgil’s intervention, neither would he.

Winter spoke up first as the group moved together around Parker’s stretcher toward the elevator. “I’m not sorry for knocking him the fuck out, just so you know.”

“You shouldn’t be, hon.” Virgil met the younger man’s gaze. “If you hadn’t, Parker wouldn’t be alive. We’re going to be making some changes around here. We’ve lost too much with how things were.” His warm brown eyes glistened, and he made no effort to hide the tears that spilled down his cheeks. “Archie… Hart… Gael…”

A little growl came from Lux, where he hung back with Awolf. “Don’t cry for him. He wasn’t dead…until I killed him.”

Elliot put his arm around his brother and met Virgil’s stunned gaze. “We have a lot to catch you up on.”

“It sounds like it.” Virgil stepped back as Dr. Fisher rolled Parker into the elevator, a team of what looked like other doctors or nurses—maybe both—waiting inside like they’d just arrived and come to meet him. Holding back everyone else, Virgil let the elevator close. “All the equipment that was brought for Damon has been set up in my office. It was the easiest to clean out and had the space Dr. Fisher needed to work. You can all wait in the hall for news, but only after you’ve gone to your own lofts to clean up and change.”

Gerard folded his arms over his chest, standing a bit behind his husband. “I’ll move some furniture into the hall and set up a waiting room.” He scowled at the floor. “There will be snacks. Drinks. And…” He shook his head, closing his eyes like he was in pain. “My best bottle of whiskey. As an apology. I fucked up. I’m sorry, my priorities were…wrong.”

“Not wrong, the missions matter.” Elliot arched a brow when Gerard met his eyes. “But unless you want to send out a bunch of teens to do our jobs? So do we.”

“You always have!” Gerard grunted when Virgil elbowed him in the ribs. “I suck at showing it. I care about all of you. Losing Archie, then Hart, made me feel like I wasn’t in control. I compensated in the worst fucking way. It hurt you.” He glanced at Damon. “All of you. It won’t happen again.”

Damon’s brow furrowed. “Are you including me in this apology?”

“Yes. I knew how to manipulate you.” Gerard’s lips twitched. “It was too easy.” He barely evaded another elbow. “But I’ll get you some training so it won’t be next time. Not that there will be a next time from me—you do need to know how to defend yourself, though. And not just physically.”

A smile tugged at Damon’s lips. “I’d appreciate that. And you’re forgiven.” He inhaled roughly, recalling his time in the man’s office. “After seeing those photos…no matter how well any of us are trained, that would have an impact. It hurt to see them like that, and I only knew Parker for weeks. You’ve known them all for years. As heartless as you pretend to be, you were hurting.”

“I managed.”

“Badly.”

Gerard’s lips parted. Then shut as he inclined his head. “Fair.”

Approaching the handler from the side, Tig tipped his head back, peering up at him. “I forgive you, too, sir. I only wanted to see Winter set you on fire for a little bit…it would’ve made me sad if he’d actually done it. Can you…can you help me bring my sofa down to the hall? It’s comfy to sleep on and I don’t wanna be alone.”

“I, ugh…yeah. Sure, Tiggy.” Gerard gave his husband a helpless look when Tig threw his arms around his waist, awkwardly patting the small guy’s back. “Why don’t you go cuddle Virgil? He gives better hugs.”

“But I didn’t think about him burning alive.” Tig’s voice broke. “I’m sorry.”

Virgil smiled, looking satisfied when Gerard finally wrapped both of his arms around Tig and held him close. “There we go. Be gentle with them, my love. You’ll live longer.”

Moving in to join the hug, Lux nodded as his dog began to chew on one of the pockets of Gerard’s cargo pants. “He’s right. But I love you and I won’t let Awolf eat you.”

Chuckling, Gerard glanced down at the dog. “Thank you. That is not how I want to die.”

“Fuck, I guess I'd better get in on this.” Winter moved in, enfolding the smaller men into a big group hug. “You’re forgiven, Gerard. But next time you pull some shit like that? I’m eating your heart after I knock you out. If I’ve gotta lose one of the only dads I’ve ever had, I’m going full cannibal.”

Elliot hesitated at first, but a gentle nudge from Damon got him joining the rest of his crazy little family, Virgil smiling softly at Damon’s man before wiping away his tears and kissing the top of his head.

Watching Gerard drop the cold, hardass act and comfort Tig while he went on a spiral of all the different ways his hyperactive brain had come up with to kill him—some sounded both disturbing and painful, Damon finally understood two very important things.

One, how a man like Virgil had fallen in love with Gerard in the first place.

And two, why a group of men, all dangerously broken, both fragile and deadly in their own ways, would follow him with so much devotion. Why it had taken such extremes for them to finally say ‘Enough is enough.’

Gerard had earned their respect.

He’d almost lost it for good, but he would get it back because he seemed to truly understand what he had. Not what he’d told Damon Elliot was. Not weapons to carelessly wield against the enemy until they came apart and were considered useless.

But a family, a team, who were worth more than any number of successful missions.

Hours later, all the men sat or lay around the wide hall, on armchairs and sofas Damon had helped Gerard bring down, waiting for news about Parker. A few other drivers and staff came in and out from time to time to offer a kind word, or a hug, or whatever else the remaining men of Eros’ Eight might need.

But the guys mostly kept to themselves. Tig snuggled with Lux on his sofa, smiling as he watched Our Flag Means Death with him. Winter sat alone on a big leather armchair, polishing off most of Gerard’s offered whiskey, nervously toying with his Zippo and eyeing the door.

He lit the whiskey he spilled over his hand on fire twice before Virgil confiscated the Zippo, replacing it with a fiber optic light plume he’d retrieved from his loft at some point. Almost as though he’d been through this with the man before.

Sitting sideways on Damon’s lap, toying with a switchblade, Elliot leaned close and whispered. “Winter used to be a bit of a pyro. Virgil got him through it…mostly.”

“Uh huh.” Damon caught the knife before it could end up in his thigh, folding it and putting it away. “You all have your own little quirks. Virgil and Gerard helped you manage the worst of them…I kinda get why some of you call them ‘The dads’.”

Resting his head on Damon’s shoulder, Elliot smiled and nodded. “Yeah…even when they royally fuck up—usually Gerard—we’re lucky to have them.”

His phone buzzed, vibrating against Damon’s thigh, and he sat up to check the message. His grip tightened around the phone hard enough to make it crack.

Glancing at the screen, Damon made out a picture of an address written on a scrap of paper.

With a bloody lollipop next to it.

The message was from Saint Claude.

“I have to go.” Elliot started to rise, baring his teeth when Damon held him in place. “Don’t you dare try to fucking stop me. You saw what happened last time you tried to force me to do anything. I thought you learned—”

“I did.” Damon gripped Elliot’s wrists tight behind his back, holding his gaze. “And if you decide to go after him, I'll come with you. But you’re going to hear me out first.”

Jaw clenched, body stiff, Elliot nodded.

“You need to heal. Saint Claude is taunting you. He wants to draw you out before you're ready to face him, so he can toy with you.” Damon nodded to the closed door, where Parker was undergoing surgery on the other side, clinging to life. “Like he did to Parker, only worse.”

Frustration and pain filled Elliot’s eyes. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Ignore him?”

“For now? Yes.” Damon framed Elliot’s jaw with one hand. “Be here , Elliot. For Parker, when he wakes up. For your brother and the other guys. And for me, because I love you and I won’t let that bastard take you from all of us.”

“He needs to be stopped.”

“He will be.” Damon touched his forehead to his little python’s. “But not today.”

Closing his eyes, Elliot nodded, relaxing back into his embrace.

And Gerard caught Damon’s eye. “I was wrong about you. You’re exactly what he needs. I’m glad you came back.”

Damon inclined his head and smiled.

“Good. Because this is where I belong. I promised him I’d stay.”

And I’ll never break that promise again.