Page 9

“And it’s not you?” Lane asked with a smirk.

I chuckled. “It’s really not me,” I lied.

I didn’t know the next step—if there would be one. After the interrogation, focus had landed on my education. Which had sort of worked out for me. I mean, in all honesty, I had met up with Penelope to discuss my future. I’d confessed to her that I couldn’t find the desire to go back to school anymore. All that was true. But…yeah, we’d also met up to discuss our scheming.

KC and Ash had it all figured out. I was pretty sure they suspected Penelope too. But the attention had been diverted, and with River and Reese more focused on making me understand that I could do whatever I wanted with my life, with or without my master’s degree, no one was pushing things. It was up to River and Reese.

At some point. Not now. Those lying dicks could suck it.

Lane took off about an hour later, and more people showed up at the house. With absolutely no interest in being social, I hid out in the old cabin. It had been stripped of personal belongings and the feel of it having been River and Reese’s home for several years. Now, the downstairs was more like a makeshift guest room for when the main house ran out of space. No bed, but we’d found a pullout couch that was supposedly very comfortable and had room for three kinksters.

But I had put my foot down. We only allowed members here when they had nowhere else to sleep—and the upstairs was off-limits. That area was still ours.

I couldn’t help but to feel possessive of this little A-frame cabin. It was where I had fallen head over heels in love with two motherfuckers. Where my walls had come down, where I’d cried my ass off countless times, and where the Tenleys had put me back together after everything from rough sessions to legit trauma.

Heading upstairs, my gaze first landed on the infamous subbie bed. The single bed that the Tenleys had once reserved for casual play partners. I’d never once spent the night there. And it had since become River’s place to read. Or wait his turn if Reese or I were in the bathroom. We’d also used it as a place to dump laundry…

I sighed and slumped down on the mattress.

It squeaked a little bit.

Just in case our sheets on our regular bed still smelled like their scents—body wash, deodorant, cologne—I lay down right here and stared up at the slanted ceiling.

I clasped my hands over my stomach.

Scents had always been big for me. I could still remember the feeling of coming home from school when Mom had baked something. I remembered just last week when I’d pointed out to TJ that he overused his body spray. I remembered buying my own body wash because, as much as I liked smelling like a Tenley, I wanted them to stand out. Their scents were my new home. I attached memories to scents. I clung to them.

The good ones anyway. Fire, not so much. Burning electrics, no thanks.

With River and Reese’s help, I’d come damn far. I could enjoy an open fire these days. I found them cozy again. I wasn’t deathly afraid of a fucking fireplace. I could light candles without worrying something might happen.

The nightmares had faded.

River still had them sometimes, though. I hated that. He’d actually had one last night, and now my plan to fuss over him all day was ruined.

I’d had it all figured out. Wash up, fix breakfast, do laundry, and then cuddle the hell out of River on the couch with a bunch of movies and snacks.

Nightmares tended to exhaust him, and if possible, he became quieter than usual.

When Reese had nightmares, he was the opposite. He became restless the following day and stayed busy. That was when he ticked off fucking everything on a to-do list. But they did have one thing in common for dealing with unpleasant memories. Affection. They were mad affectionate with me, as if I recharged their batteries.

I yawned and scratched my hip.

They sort of battled trauma in rounds, never at the same time. One was always there to catch the other. And River and I had noticed that Reese had come out of his last fog around Christmas. I mean, it hadn’t been overwhelming or anything. No panic or triggers for those two. I’d just noticed it when they’d had trouble sleeping—and Reese had told me he sometimes dreamed about losing us. River’s nightmares had been similar, about losing me in the fire. About not getting me out in time. And lastly, the echoes of my crying out in despair, in the middle of a flashback, ’cause I’d been back in the fire where my parents and sister had lost their lives.

Despite the horror from the Mclean fire, though…? I blew out a breath. That whole thing had brought us closer together. We’d coped together. The Daddy Dom in Reese had reached new heights, and the Owner in River had become even more protective and unyielding.

I’d started thriving again. I woke up happy every morning, almost. Sandwiched between my two men or half draped on top of one of them. And now that I’d confessed to them that I didn’t wanna go back to school, I was supposed to figure out what I did want. Like, get a regular job. Because my fighting days were almost over. TJ’s and Levi’s college funds would be secured soon. I needed another four or five thousand bucks, and then I was done. That was like two fights.

Maybe three, since I’d spent a buttload of money on River and Reese’s birthday gifts, which they’d apparently receive two weeks earlier, because I hadn’t known their true date.

Goddammit.

I threw an arm over my face.

I felt my nose twitch.

That’s coffee.