Page 3 of Unfettered

“Even if they want it?” Jude asks.

“No. This is our job.” Roman nods in agreement, and while I don’t necessarily disagree, I know we’re painting an even larger target on our own backs. We likely won’t all make it out unharmed. Fuck.

“This would give us a plan to present to Javi. And hopefully keep him from going off on his own,” Carter muses. “I agree with it. It’ll be dangerous, and we need to discuss it further. For now, Keegan and Jude, refine this list for us. I’d like to present a plan to Javi in three hours, since I don’t trust him not to abscond early. Lio, Roman, and I will discuss the risks, and who we can pull, while you’re doing that. We’ll also reach out to Leandro and Tennant.”

“Will you join us?” Lio asks Atticus calmly, obviously questioning how far the therapist will go when it’s not his fight.

I’m torn between relief and disappointment when Atticus shakes his head. “No, I’ll sit this part out, except for any planning assistance I can give. It’s not necessarily my fight. Not yet. And I want to observe you all first.”

“Fair enough. Thank you for this. I won’t ask how you found it, but please know, we appreciate it.” The genuine care from Carter softens something in Atticus, but he still merely waves as he leaves.

“That was not what I expected.” Lio doesn’t sound all that surprised, however.

“Yeah, well, tick-tock for Jude and me. We’ll meet you back here in two hours. We’re going to need every second.” With that, I give Carter a hard kiss before I disappear as well, because they’re asking for a damn miracle, and fuck if I won’t deliver it.

Itoss back the painkillers Dr. Ranlen supplied. They’re over-the-counter, because I can’t afford to be incapacitated with the good stuff right now. But even if they don’t make a dent in the headache pounding at my temples, they’ll hopefully help with the pain…everywhere else. Fuck, I don’t think there's a part of me that doesn’t hurt in some way, and I’ve spent the last thirty-odd hours doing a whole lot of sitting around—part of the problem, of course. My bad leg protests over being immobile for so long. The short walks and pacing I’ve done lost their effectiveness a long time ago.

But there hasn’t been a single available Family member who hasn't been working since Daniel ended up on our doorstep with his news. Add in the timeline Doc was able to extract from Javi… Fuck.

Part of me almost wishes the doctor didn’t agree to Javi’s deal, but the rational side is grateful for the time. It means we could actually put a plan together. One that will bring us one step closer to ending this.

“You know,” Roman says slowly, as we all gather in the conference room that looks more like a war room now. “I’m kinda mad we didn’t think of this before.” He cringes. “Atticus made a point that hitting what’s left of their crumbling Organization should have been on our list.”

“They kept us busy with the cops, raiding and burning our warehouses, fucking arresting one of us, and kidnapping two different sets of Bosses,” Carter points out. “They didn’t want us to have time to breathe, so we couldn’t turn the tables on them.”

“They thought us weak,” Lio says. “They thought by taking the Old Bosses, we would crumble and they could pick us off. When that didn’t work, they took it a step further and used the law to try to take Tennant. And when that still didn’t work, they kept throwing shit at us in the hopes we would break.” He purses his lips, meeting the eyes of everyone gathered around the table. “We’ve proved time and time again that we may bend, but we don’t break. We’re not starting now. The Senator wants to play with fire? He wants to prove he has what it takes to live in this blood-spattered world? We’ll give him our best welcome.” The smile he gives is strained, but there’s determination in his eyes. It's a promise of violence and bloodshed that only Death can bring, and it helps knock back some of the exhaustion tugging at me.

The door to the conference room opens and Tennant strolls in, calm as can be, not a hair out of place. If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t think he’d spent the last day torturing people, but then, that’s why he is so calm and collected. Torture is Ten’s happy place.

He kisses Roman and Lio, before taking the empty seat beside me. He doesn’t hesitate to reach over and turn my chair towards his, meeting my gaze steadily.

“You look like shit, Agnellino,” he signs.

I snort. “Such a romantic, Ten.”

He raises a brow. “I hope you’re not planning on going into the field…”

Before I can argue, he grips my chin and kisses me. His touch is firm and his kiss is hard. Neither of us gives ground to the other, but touching him, having his mouth on mine, the scent of blood wafting off him…it grounds me. When he pulls away, I take my first deep breath in hours.

“Remove your hearing aids,” he tells me.

I shake my head. “I can’t⁠—”

“Roman, Carter, and I are here. We can interpret, or I can call Dominic or Dmitri. Hell, Doc will be here in a minute. We have you covered. I can see the strain on your face…” He places a cool finger against the corner of my eye, as if emphasizing the visible cues that I’m pushing myself beyond my limits.

Before I can argue further, the door opens again and I catch snippets of Javi’s bitching. “...can pick these,” he says as he walks into the room, hands cuffed in front of him.

Doc follows a step behind him, one hand wrapped around the shorter man’s bicep. “I’d like to see you try… I will fucking kill you…”

Fuck. Tennant is right. The addition of their voices is too much for me. My headache gets worse from just the thought of having to pay attention to everyone currently in the room as we outline the plan.

Thankfully, Soren accompanies Doc and Javi—even though this is technically a closed meeting, I don’t blame him for wanting to be near his Boy right now. Catching his eyes, I gesture to my ears and he nods, understanding my question without me having to speak or even sign it—being best friends with Donovan comes in handy because he can read the silent cues better than anyone else.

I toss my hearing aids onto the table, not quite letting out a sigh of relief because my residual hearing can still pick up the noise in the room, even if I don’t bother focusing to try to catch what anyone says. Nothing but sleep and food that isn’t coffee, maybe even some of the good drugs, can fully alleviate the pain of my aching body, but taking away the pressure of trying to process spoken language helps immensely.

“Now that we’re all here, we can discuss what we’ve learned in the last twenty hours or so,” Carter starts.

“This better be good because your time is almost up,” Javi interjects. “I’ll have you know, I’m counting down the minutes.”