Page 160 of Fall Before Her Throne

I grabbed the edge of the blanket to keep my chest covered while I sat up. Obi sat up behind me, bracing one hand on the other side of my waist. “Yeah, I just had nightmares.”

“Nightmares…” Max started as he sat on the arm of the couch. “You said before you had them.”

“Ever since you killed my dad.”

The words even weeks ago would have been an accusation, but now they were just a fact. I didn’t feel upset—instead, I almost felt grateful.

He clasped his hands and stared at them. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Unclear if he was talking about the dad thing or the nightmares. Either way, it didn’t matter. I leaned back against Obi’s bare chest. His lips pressed against my hair. “They got worse after the Vokshi ship, but I have a handle on them now. When Obi and I are together, they go away.”

Obi and I waited while Max seemed to consider what he wanted to say.

“I didn’t realize you…” He paused and then sighed. “I’m sorry for my part in all the pain you carry.”

Obi’s arms tightened around me. He whispered in my ear, low enough so that Max didn’t hear. “Do you want him to go?”

I shook my head and leaned heavier against Obi’s chest. “You have nightmares, too, Max?”

Max nodded. He looked toward the window across the room. “Most nights since my father’s death. That’s why I was cleaning.”

Ten years. Ten years of dark and loneliness. Late nights by himself, with no comfort, no relief.

Obi’s free hand brushed my thigh, drawing my gaze up. His look was understanding, like he could see the way it tugged at me. But this was our time. Obi and I would never have grown as close as we were without our quiet nights together.

“Do what you feel is right, nke’m.” He gave me a quick nod, an answer to the unconscious permission I sought.

I’d told him earlier to sleep with me more often but to also share. This quiet space was just ours, but that could expand. We could make room.

I held out my hand to Max. He stared at it for a second before he stood and folded his fingers against mine.

“Obi and I always find each other here,” I said. “In the dark. In the quiet. You’re welcome to join us.”

He stared at our clasped hands, and his throat bobbed. “Are you okay with that, Obi?”

Obi leaned back down and folded his arms behind his head. “Sleeping with Leona heals my soul and brings me a peace I never thought I’d find. There’s no reason she can’t do the same for you.”

A smile pulled at the corner of Max’s mouth. He squeezed my fingers, and I tugged him downward. “Come on. I’m tired now. Obi fucked me to the point of exhaustion, and I’m about to pass out.”

Obi laughed deeply while I nuzzled back against his chest, and Max cuddled up against my back, snaking his arm around my waist. The flicker of firelight and the rhythmic movement of Obi’s chest lulled me into half-sleep.

“Thank you,” Max mumbled, sounding barely lucid. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Shut up,” I said with a happy sigh.

The weight of sleep pulled us all under.

50

MAX

We’d spent a week fighting back against the Camorra after the Bronx firefight. The news had been running the story the entire time.

“Is the deadly mafia firefight in the Bronx earlier this week a sign of a surge in organized crime?”

“Are the Italian mafia and the Russian Bratva at war? Tune in tonight at 7 to learn how to protect yourself…”

The heat, from law enforcement and from the Camorra, had increased. The only good news was that Greco couldn’t bail out his capos. In that case, the news stories benefited us. The entire public eye seemed to watch us, waiting to see how else our war would spill over into their lives. Our men had been careful, but the skirmishes between us all had increased. Anton Felix and his reinforcements had come in handy—though there seemed to be no end in sight to the warfare.