Own the Wind

Chapter Eighteen

Breaking the Circle

“Did she beg for her life?”

“Man, I got clean.”

“Did he?”

Shy Cage was sitting on his ass on the dirt floor of a shed in the foothills. He had his knees up, his elbows on his knees, his blade hanging from his fingers. His knuckles were split, torn and bloody.

The man in front of him, wrists behind him held together with plastic restraints, had fallen to his side. His position was awkward seeing as his feet were also bound together at the ankles. His face was mangled and bloody. Eyes nearly swollen shut. Blood was oozing from an ear.

At Shy’s question, the man didn’t answer. He simply moaned.

Shy kept questioning.

“She have time to tell you she had two boys at a babysitter’s, playin’ games and eatin’ junk food and watchin’ late movies, havin’ no clue… no… fucking… clue that they’d wake up in the morning with no family?”

The man took in a wet, sloppy, pained breath but didn’t answer.

Shy kept at him.

“Or did you pop them quick? Did they even have the opportunity to say, ‘please’?”

The man shut his swollen eyes and whispered, “I was messed up back then.”

“Yeah, talk to me about that,” Shy said, his words an invitation but his tone was cutting.

The man opened his eyes, kept his head to the dirt but his eyeballs slid up to Shy. “Smack, man. I would do anything.”

“I know,” Shy agreed. “I know, ’cause to get your fix, you fuckin’ killed my family. That, man, that’s any-fuckin’-thing.”

“I’m clean now,” the man told him again, hurriedly. “I made my way out of that and, bro, I’ll tell you, not a day has gone by where I haven’t remembered how far I stooped and it haunted me.”

“You lose sleep?” Shy asked.

“Every night, man, every single night. I see them every night.”

“So, you remember. You see them, tell me. Did they beg?”

The man closed his eyes.

“He got her earrings, every Christmas,” Shy told him. “Not shit, they were diamonds, emeralds, rubies. After you plugged her, when you rifled through my home, you didn’t get that shit, did you…” he hesitated before he finished with a disgusted “… bro?”

The man opened his eyes and whispered, “No.”

“No,” Shy whispered back. “I know. My bitch aunt got them. The aunt my brother and I went to after you murdered my family. The aunt who made us her slaves. Who treated us like shit. Who hated us and let us know every fuckin’ day for six fuckin’ years. She got my mom’s earrings.”

“I’m sorry,” the man replied brokenly.

“So am I,” Shy agreed. “I’ve been sorry for sixteen fuckin’ years.”

“If I could take it back, I would,” the man told him.

“You can’t,” Shy replied shortly.

The man shifted, his eyes locked to Shy’s. “I’ll do anything you want. Anything. I get you. I deserve this. I knew this was coming. My penance. It was gonna come, I always knew it. You can’t do what I did and breathe easy. You need to know I’ll do anything you want but please, please man, don’t kill me.”

“If you’ll do anything I want then fuckin’ answer me, did they beg?”

He sucked in another wet, gurgling breath and answered, “No.”

“Tell me,” Shy ordered.

The man again shifted uncomfortably. “I… they, both of ’em… he surprised me. Didn’t see him. I was dealin’ with the clerk, he showed and I just, I just freaked and I…” He trailed off, but Shy knew what he did. He knew exactly what he did. He killed Shy’s father. Then the man told him, “She was in the kitchen. I surprised her.”

“Quick, right? It went quick?” Shy pushed.

“Yeah,” he said swiftly. “It went quick.”

“They didn’t suffer?”

“No,” the man shook his head against the dirt with difficulty. “No, man, they didn’t suffer. She didn’t…” his voice dropped near to nothing “… she didn’t even know I was there.”

Shy closed his eyes.

In his low voice, the man said, “I shot her in the back of the head.”

Shy’s head dropped forward.

“She didn’t know anything,” the man finished.

Shy lifted his head and looked at him. “One minute alive, two boys she loves, a husband who pulls her into his lap for a kiss, she’s just walkin’ through the room, a husband who gives her earrings, the next she’s nothing.”

The man nodded, his voiced hitching when he said, “I did that. I did it.”

Shy tipped his head to the side. “You got family?”

The man’s body jolted and his eyes, even swollen, went wide, filling with fear. “No, man, no. No family.”

“You have family,” Shy said.

The man shook his head. “No. Not before I got clean. After I got clean. Not before, man, they don’t know that me. They don’t even know I was that me.”

“They should know,” Shy told him.

The man shook his head in the dirt, his body shifting with agitation. “They don’t know. They only know the me after I got clean.”

“You took three lives, destroyed two more I know of, don’t know what you laid to waste for that clerk. You think they shouldn’t know?” Shy asked.

“I did that. I admitted it. I admitted it to that Native American dude who found me. I admitted it to those guys he set to guard me. I did it and it haunted me, man, it haunted me,” he said quickly. “It haunted me so much, what I was capable of, what that shit drove me to, I got clean.”

“So my parents died so you could learn your lesson and have a good life. You think I’m happy with that trade-off? My brother? You think that will mean shit to him? You think that means shit to me?”

“No, I don’t. I just… I don’t know, man, I just, since then, I got my act together. I got family. I got a reason to stay clean. They need me and I’m just sayin’, I get you, do what you have to do but I don’t wanna die.”

“Right now, you want that gift from me. You wanna keep breathin’.”

“Yes,” the man whispered.

“And you think,” Shy leaned forward, “you think, you shot my mother in the back of her fuckin’ head, you took that gift from her, you think you should get that gift from me?”

“No,” the man was still whispering. “I don’t deserve that. I know it. I just hope you have it in you to show mercy.”

Shy changed the subject. “Too young, cops didn’t tell that shit to kids and my aunt and uncle didn’t share fuckin’ anything. So you tell me. Where’d you shoot my dad?”

“Man, don’t do this to yourself.”

“Tell me,” Shy pushed, leaning further in, moving the hilt of the knife into his palm, his fingers curling around the shaft, movements the man didn’t miss. “Where… did… you… shoot my Dad?” he ended his question on a roar.

“Tell him,” Tack rumbled and Shy’s head jerked around.

Jesus, he didn’t hear him.

The brothers moved in behind Tack.

Fuck, he didn’t hear any of them.

“Oh God, oh fuck, oh God,” the man chanted, scooting fearfully away but he stopped when Boz, Hound, and High rounded him at the back and the rest of the brothers circled around him.

Shy pushed up to his feet to stand by Tack.

“I said,” Shy stated, his eyes on Tack, “private party.”

“See you don’t get this, brother, but we’re crashing,” Tack replied.

“Answer his question, motherfucker,” Hop growled, nudging the man on the ground hard with his boot. “He wants to know where you shot his dad.”

“In the aisle,” the man said hurriedly.

“That the info you were lookin’ for, Shy?” Tack asked, his eyes pointed down at the man.

“No,” Shy answered.

The man shook his head.

“Uh… you’re not gettin’ this, dude, but you were in a world of hurt,” Boz spoke up then leaned down toward the man and clipped, “Now you’re in a world of pain. Tell my brother where you shot his fuckin’ dad.”

“Face,” he whispered.

“Jesus, fuck, once we kill him, can I keep stabbing him?” Hound asked.

The man let out a terrified squeak.

Shy stared at Hound then he looked at Tack.

“You been out there awhile,” he guessed.

“Brothers don’t go it alone,” Tack replied, and Shy held his eyes.

Then Shy drew in a deep breath.

Finally, he told Tack, “He’s got family.”

“I heard. Do you care?” Tack returned.

“I been the survivin’ part of a family,” Shy reminded him.

“Vengeance,” Tack shook his head. “Brother, that shit is messy. This fuck we got here doesn’t mean shit but his family, you’re lookin’ at two things. They learn who he was, what he did and know he paid, or they live to have you where he is right now. Difference is, you got your brothers. That kind of shit”—he swung a hand toward the man in the dirt—“unlikely to happen to you. Way it’s goin’, my guess, you’ll have a new family soon. You carry through, suddenly, they’re vulnerable. Vengeance is a circle. There’s no corners to turn, there’s no end of the line. You feel lucky, we’ll deal accordingly. You want this to end here, we get creative in taking his penance and the circle is broken. Your choice. Whatever you choose, your brothers stand with you.”

Shy looked down at the man but felt a presence get close.

“This is not a case for mercy,” Big Petey rumbled.

Shy turned his head and looked into the man’s eyes.

Big Petey kept talking. “But, boy, you make this decision, you get on your bike, you go home, you lie down by your woman. So, right now, ask yourself, next time you touch her, how you gonna feel doin’ it with blood on your hands?”

Shy’s mind filled with all things Tabby. This meant it filled really fucking full.

He drew in another deep breath and looked down at the man in the dirt.

Then he declared, “I’m feelin’ creative.”

The vibe in the room shifted, Shy’s head lifted, he looked to Tack and he found him smiling.

Shy rode hard, his mind blank except for one thing.

Or pairs of them but they were all the same.

All the same.

He hadn’t thought of them for years. They’d been lost a long time. So long, he almost forgot about them.

Tonight, he was getting them back.

He drove his bike up into a driveway he hadn’t seen in years. He didn’t even drive down this street. He got nowhere near this fucking place.

He walked to the door, pressed the doorbell and didn’t let go.

It was late, dark, it had to be well past midnight so he knocked. Loud. Hard. And he didn’t stop.

He saw a light go on in the window high in the door, the locks turned and the door was thrown open.

“Park, son, jeez. What on earth? Are you okay?” his uncle asked and Shy stared at him as saliva filled his mouth.

Then he pushed through him and prowled into the house.

“Park! What the heck?” his uncle yelled after him. “Where are you going?”

Shy took the steps two at a time.

He rounded the flight at the top and stalked down the hall, his uncle still yelling after him.

There she was, in her shapeless nightie, hair ratty from sleep, standing in the door to her bedroom staring at him, pale-faced, eyes wide with surprise.

“Parker, what on earth?” she asked.

“Where are they?” Shy asked back.

“Who?” she queried.

“Not who, what,” Shy clipped and didn’t stop. He pushed right through her, ignoring her startled, strangled screech. “Where are they?”

“What?” she asked, her voice now pitched high.

“Park,” his uncle called, his voice sharp. “Son, what in the hell are you doin’?”

Shy saw the jewelry box on her dresser and went right to it.

“Oh my God!” his aunt cried. “Timmy, he’s going for my jewelry.”

Shy stopped and turned.

“I knew it,” she hissed, her eyes on him as his uncle moved toward him. “You’re on drugs, aren’t you?”

“Where are they?” Shy asked.

“Where are what?” she snapped, her tone ugly.

The same shit as always.

Exactly.

“My mother’s earrings.”

Her hand flew to her throat and her face again got pale. His uncle stopped dead two feet away.

“Son?” his uncle called Shy’s attention to him so Shy gave him his attention.

“I am not your son.”

He watched his uncle wince.

His eyes went to his aunt. “Where are they?”

“I… they—” she began to babble but Shy’s uncle cut her off.

“Park, please. Come back at a decent hour. Obviously you have something on your mind. We’ll talk.”

Shy looked back to the man who failed to raise him after his father died. “We are not talking. I’m never fuckin’ seein’ you or that bitch again after I leave. But I’m leavin’ with my mother’s earrings.”

“Although I can see you’re in a mood,” his aunt bit out, and Shy looked to her, “and I hate to fly in the face of that mood considering who you are and who you spend your time with, but I have to say that not only is this highly inappropriate, you barging in on your uncle and me in the middle of the night, but also you asking for those earrings.”

“My mother’s earrings,” Shy corrected, and she leaned in.

“My earrings,” she sneered, and Shy’s chest started burning.

The bitch wasn’t done.

“Didn’t get much for taking you in, at least I got that.”

Shy stared at her. He then turned to his uncle. “I am not leaving without those earrings.”

“Parker—” his uncle started.

“I’m calling the cops!” his aunt announced loudly.

Shy ignored her and repeated, “I am not… leaving… without those earrings.”

He watched his uncle swallow.

Shy kept his eyes pinned to the man. “You give me those earrings, or I swear to fuckin’ Christ you will not see the end of this.. I will make every fuckin’ day of your life a misery either by makin’ it a misery or makin’ you wonder how I am next gonna make it a misery. You will know every one of my brothers, and you’ll know them well because they will make it a mission to make you, that bitch, and your good-for-nothin’ children miserable. Now you control that fuckin’ woman, get that goddamned phone out of her hand, and give me my mother’s earrings.”

“Ellen, put the phone down,” his uncle said instantly.

“I will not,” she snapped.

“Woman, put the goddamned phone down,” he clipped, shocking the shit out of Shy, who never, not once, heard his uncle speak that way to anybody. Especially not his aunt.

Shy didn’t look at the bitch but he felt the air in the room, already wired, go heavy.

He heard the phone hit the charger then his uncle ordered, “Get Parker his mother’s earrings.”

“Tim, that’s—”

“Don’t,” his uncle whispered. He drew in a deep breath, his eyes glued to his woman, then he went on, “For years, you rode me about this. Give me some goddamned peace. Give Parker some peace. Just give him his mother’s earrings.”

There was silence then movement and a hissed “This is just unbelievable.”

Shy shifted out of her way, not wanting to be anywhere near her.

Moments went by then he felt her standing close.

“Well? Take them,” she snapped.

His eyes moved to her, she looked into them and quailed.

He looked back at his uncle. “I’ll need a bag.”

“Do you want us to wrap up the silver so you can take that too?” she asked snidely.

Shy looked at her again. “I want you, for once, to put away those goddamned fangs, and by that I mean, shut the fuck up.”

“I knew you were a bad seed,” she shot back.

“Like usual, not payin’ a lick of attention,” Shy returned.

“Really?” she asked sarcastically. “Oh. Right. In the circles you run, threatening middle-of-the-night visits are probably mandatory.”

“No, but when they happen, they’re fun,” Shy replied casually.

She snorted.

“Ellen just, please, go get him a bag,” his uncle cut in.

She threw his uncle a look and stomped out.

Shy dropped his eyes to his boots.

“Is there something that prompted this evening’s visit, Parker?” his uncle asked, and Shy looked to him.

“Yes,” he answered.

His uncle waited. Shy was quiet.

The man tried something else, “Landon home safe?”

“Yes,” Shy stated but said no more.

“Well, thank God for that.”

Shy didn’t reply.

His uncle lifted a hand his way. “Son, I—”

“Save it,” Shy bit out and he shut his mouth.

Seconds slid by.

Then his uncle tried again. “Maybe, with your aunt not there, we should find a time to sit down and talk.”

“And maybe that’s never gonna happen,” Shy returned. “Maybe I like it better knowin’ that my brother’s a soldier, a brave man, puttin’ his ass on the line for this country. Maybe I like knowin’ that I got a woman, gettin’ a house, and soon we’re gonna make a family. Maybe I like knowin’ that you know that you had not one thing to do with the good that’s in us, the good that came to us, the good we deserve, the good we’re gonna make. Maybe I like knowin’ that you know that we had to escape this prison in order to carve out that goodness. Maybe I like knowin’ that your kids don’t give one shit about you because they think you’re as weak as I do, and they only have time for their mother because they know she’ll give them shit they ask for.”

His uncle’s eyes flashed and Shy knew his aim was true.

“Bet those assholes don’t even send birthday cards,” Shy continued.

“Don’t think I haven’t thought on things, you boys gone, and—”

“Don’t care what you thought when we were gone,” Shy interrupted him. “The time for you to think and fuckin’ act was when we were fuckin’ here.”

He watched his uncle close his eyes in defeat as he heard his aunt coming back down the hall. Shy moved to the door, stopping and turning to his uncle.

“Last, and best and it isn’t a maybe, it’s a definite. I like knowin’ you’ll finish your life at her side. You deserve that shit. And that’s what it is that anyone gets from her. That’s all she’s got to give. Shit.”

He heard his aunt gasp in affront, turned back to the door as she slid in, careful with her body like being too close to him would rub off criminal vibes and she’d be arrested on the spot.

He reached out a hand, yanked the bag out of hers, opened it, looked inside, and counted boxes.

When he needed to move some to keep count, he reached in, and she snapped, “They’re all there.”

Shy looked at her then to his uncle. “They aren’t, another visit.”

Then, without looking at either of them again, he walked right the fuck out.

He rode home feeling something he didn’t get, something he hadn’t felt, not once, not in sixteen years.

He realized what it was when he got to Tab’s apartment and saw her electric blue car shining in the streetlamps illuminating the parking lot.

He felt free.

The feeling was overpowering, suffusing him, forcing everything else out and allowing him nothing but that.

Feeling free.

Fucking free.

He swung off his bike, jogged to the stairs, took them two at a time and turned the handle on the door. He knew by the light coming out the bottom it wouldn’t be locked.

It wasn’t.

He walked in and saw her curled into herself on the couch.

She shot to her feet the instant she saw him. Her eyes on him, her expression concerned, cautious, even scared, she whispered, “Shy.”

He closed the door, turned, locked it, and then turned back to her.

Free.

He was free.

He thought his brothers gave him that, and they did.

At the same time, they didn’t.

True freedom came from Tabby.

He stalked toward her.

“Bedroom,” he growled. “Take your clothes off on your way.”

Her body jerked but other than that she didn’t move.

He rounded the armchair, positioning to herd her to get her on her way to where he wanted her to go, and when he was a foot away, she stumbled then started backing up.

“Bedroom and clothes off, Tabby.”

“Shy, I… what…?” Her head tipped to the side as he rounded her wide and changed her direction, aiming her down the hall. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“You aren’t taking your clothes off.”

She licked her lip and Jesus, he was hanging on by a thread.

“Clothes, Tabby,” he growled, rounding her wide again to move her to the bedroom.

He moved her through the bedroom doorway and she stopped when the backs of her legs hit bed.

Shy stopped too.

She held his gaze.

Then she said, “I love you.”

Only then did she whip her shirt off.

Shy drew in a breath, he closed his eyes, opened them, tossed the bag with his mother’s earrings to the foot of the bed, yanked his own tee off, and then he lunged, taking her to her back in the bed.

He didn’t hesitate to take her mouth.

Then he didn’t hesitate to take her.

He did not waste time getting rid of their clothes and then he used his hands, mouth, tongue, teeth, knees, thighs, everything he had, to take everything he could get.

He didn’t have to take it, she gave it.

He took it anyway.

It didn’t take long before he was ready, she was fucking ready, he knew because she was panting so he yanked her up, moved her, shifted on his knees, slammed her back to the headboard and surged inside.

His dick sheathed in her tight, slick, hot silk. Connected to Tabby.

Fuck, always, always, gorgeous.

Her arms and legs rounded him, his hand moved up her side, up her arm, pulling it away from him, finding her hand, and he shoved his thumb in the palm, wrapped his fingers around the back and pressed their hands to the wall.

His eyes were locked to hers and he was moving inside her.

“Just like the first time,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Do you love me, Tabby?”

“Yes,” she again breathed.

“I know you do, baby, fuck, I know you do,” he muttered, then took her mouth, took her cunt, took her there. She cried out her orgasm, driving it down his throat as her pussy convulsed around his dick, then he shoved his face in her neck and groaned his climax against her skin.

He stayed that way, planted deep, his body pressing hers to the headboard, his hand holding hers, her other limbs tight around him, holding her close. He kept his face in her neck, smelling her skin, her hair, and he didn’t say anything.

Slowly, he pulled out, liking the little mew she gave that sounded sweet in his ear as she lost him. He moved back, set her on the bed. Reaching out an arm, he grabbed the bag.

“Shy?” she called but he didn’t answer. He dug into the bag.

He pulled out a box, flipped it open, flipped it closed, and dropped it in the bag. He did this again and again until he found a pair of diamonds.

He gently flung the bag to the nightstand, carefully freed the earrings from the box and flung that aside too.

“Shy?”

“Got earrings in, honey?”

Her head jerked on the pillow, her eyes were curious, confused and cautious, maybe still a little scared but she shook her head.

“Pull your hair back,” he ordered.

She did as he asked as Shy settled on her body, careful to brace on an elbow even as his hands moved to her earlobe. He slid the post through her ear then slid the back on. He moved to the other side and did the same. Then he got up on a forearm on either side of her and looked down, his eyes moving side to side, the diamonds twinkling against her glossy, dark hair.

“Shy, darlin’, talk to me,” she pleaded.

He looked at her. “Those are my mother’s earrings.”

Her body tensed under him as her thighs pressed into his hips.

“Went to my aunt and uncle’s house tonight, got ’em,” he went on. “All of them. Dad gave a pair to Mom every Christmas since they were married. Fourteen pairs. Seven for you, seven for Landon. I picked those for you. Lan picks the next pair. We’ll go back and forth until we each got our piece of our parents.”

Her eyes were brimming with tears, her nostrils flaring with the effort to contain them as she asked, “You went to your aunt and uncle’s?”

“First time in years, last time for forever.” He watched as she lifted a hand to touch the gem at her ear. “Diamonds,” he finished.

A tear she couldn’t hold back slid out the side of her eye.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked so quietly he barely heard.

But he heard.

“Was,” he told her, saw her lips tremble then moved close, his hand going to cup the side of her head, his thumb sliding down her hairline and ending, pad to her earring. “Was also wrong,” he told her gently. “Feelin’ too much, knowin’ he was found. Lost it, took that shit out on you. Shouldn’t have done it but I had so much shit coursin’ through me, baby, I had to get it out. So I piled it on you.”

“Okay,” she said quietly.

“It wasn’t cool, Tabby,” he replied just as quietly.

“It’s okay,” she told him, her hands hitting his chest, pressing in.

“No, it isn’t. What it is is done. I hope to God I learn from makin’ that mistake, freakin’ you out, scaring you”—his thumb moved through the wetness at her temple and his voice dropped—“makin’ you cry. Can’t promise I won’t do it again but I can promise to try.”

“I’m glad you promised, honey, but you also need to know that I understand. That was a lot to handle. I didn’t expect you to be surprised by it. I expected I’d get to tell you about what I’d done going to Lee. But I do understand why you reacted the way you did, and I’ve gotta be there to help you deal when life lands a sucker punch, even if it’s me who unintentionally landed it.”

“That’s cool, baby, that’s sweet and you’re right. But when you do that, you do not have to take my shit. And you did what you did to give me something beautiful. I didn’t get it at the time. I didn’t get it until it was all done and I was sittin’ outside this apartment. You didn’t land a sucker punch, and I don’t want you thinkin’ that shit.”

She held his eyes a couple of beats before she nodded and took in a breath that broke in the middle.

“I get it, sugar. You wanted me to have it,” he said gently. “I have it. You gave it to me, but you gave me something else too.”

Her wet eyes stayed on him and she murmured, “Pardon?”

“Closure. Freedom.”

Her eyes closed, he felt her chest heave and tears slid out both sides. Shy shifted his other forearm up so he could put both thumbs to work.

She drew in another breath and opened her eyes.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked.

“Broke the circle,” he answered.

“What does that mean?” she went on cautiously.

“Means I beat the shit out of him, found out he had family, found out how he killed my parents, found I wanted his life in return and found I didn’t want to be in a circle of vengeance. Didn’t want to drag you in. Didn’t want to be in your bed, touchin’ you, blood on my hands.” He paused, his eyes looking into hers and he shared, “My brothers took my back and helped me find the way.”

She got him, he knew when her entire face wobbled as she tried to hold back tears, then she lifted her head and pressed it into the skin of his neck when she failed.

Shy dropped his weight on her, rolled, curving his arms around her and taking her with him so they were on their sides.

She yanked her face out of his neck, took two hitched breaths and asked brokenly, “Are you… are you all right?”

“Best I’ve been in a long time, baby.”

She took another uneven breath as her eyes moved over his face. Then she nodded.

“You gave me that, Tabby,” he reminded her, and she gave him another wobbly smile she couldn’t quite pull off.

“That’s what I was goin’ for,” she told him.

He grinned at her and pulled her closer.

His grin faded and he admitted, “I was a dick again.”

“I’ll forgive you sooner this time, like, say—” her hand slid up so her fingers could stroke his jaw “—now.”

His lips twitched. “It’d help for me to know I got your forgiveness, you quit cryin’.”

She nodded, breathed deep, and got it together.

“Are you…” she hesitated “… good with the Club?”

It was Shy’s turn to nod.

“Good,” she said softly, ducked her face, and shoved it in his throat.

He dipped his chin and against her hair, murmured, “Gotta clean you up then I gotta call Lan.”

“Okay.”

He kissed her hair, rolled her to her back, moved in to kiss her chest then the underside of her jaw, then he met her eyes, gave her a smile, and rolled out of bed.

He got a washcloth and took care of his girl. He took the washcloth back, grabbed his jeans, tagged his phone, and joined her in bed.

She snuggled closer.

He called his brother.

Shy told Lan the story, not leaving anything out, which meant Tabby heard the story. She pressed closer and closer as he talked but she didn’t make a sound.

When he was done, Lan asked, “Tab’s wearin’ Mom’s earrings?”

“Yeah,” Shy answered.

“Fuck, man,” a pause then low, rough and fragmented, “fuck.”

Shy gave him a few beats then asked low, “You okay?”

Landon cleared his throat. “Forgot about those. Totally blocked ’em out. Cannot believe you got them. Cannot believe I forgot them.” He was silent a moment then he said, “Glad you got them back, Park. Fuck me, so fuckin’ glad you got Mom and Dad back from that bitch.”

“Next time you come up, we’ll divvy them out.”

“Right, works for me.”

Neither brother spoke for a long time. They also didn’t break their connection.

Tabby burrowed closer.

Finally, Shy announced. “It’s done.”

“Done,” Lan agreed.

“Over,” Shy went on.

“Now we can move on,” Lan replied.

Shy tightened his arm around Tabby and repeated, “Now we can move on.”

“You know I love you, Parker, and that shit runs deep,” Lan told him.

“Feel the same, Landon.”

“Never forgot what we had, still miss it,” Lan shared.

“Then do what I’m doin’, Lan, and rebuild it.”

There was silence, a short chuckle, and then finally, “Not sure I’m done havin’ fun.”

Shy tipped his chin down to see the top of Tabby’s head, her profile, her eyes open staring at his throat, her hand at his chest, fingers drifting aimlessly but soothingly, giving him time with his brother but not giving him space, something at that moment he did not need.

“That’s your problem, brother, you don’t get that this side is a fuckuva lot more fun,” he returned.

“Take a little somethin’ special to convince me of that,” Lan retorted.

“God, I hope you find it,” Shy replied.

Lan was silent, then Shy got a quiet “Me too, Park.”

They let that hang, then Shy said, “Lettin’ you go.”

“Right. I’ll find some time to come up for a weekend.”

“Cool, see you then.”

“Yeah… and Park?”

“Yeah?”

“You did right, you did good, now they can rest easy.”

They can rest easy.

Shy felt his throat close so he had to force through it, “Yeah.”

“See you in a coupla weeks.”

“Later, Lan.”

“Later, brother.”

He touched his thumb to the screen, twisted just enough to throw his phone on the nightstand, then reached out to turn off the light and rolled into Tabby.

She snuggled closer, hitching her leg back over his hip, her arm winding tight around him.

“You good?” he asked into the dark.

He felt her nod then she asked, “How you feelin’, honey?”

He thought about her question and the answer was fucked. It made no sense. He had a woman wrapped around him, trapping him to a bed. He was facing a mortgage payment. He had plans to plant babies inside her, build a family.

Still, there was only one answer and he dipped his chin, put his lips to her hair, and whispered that answer into her hair.

“Free.”

At his answer, his girl, his gorgeous girl, pressed even closer.

Shy Cage never dreamed a dream.

Still, he knew, without a doubt since he was holding one in his arms, dreams were real.