by Rose, Callie
They want my mom to be okay with us, not for their own sakes, but for mine. They know how much I love her, how close the two of us are, and they want her blessing for my sake. Although I would never break up with them just because my mom didn’t approve, I so, so badly want her to be okay with this. To understand it.
Despite the boys’ affectionate teasing, I can’t stop fidgeting as we wait for several more minutes.
But the moment Mom steps through the door, every bit of my nervousness is forgotten.
She’s wearing the dress she had on at the Black’s cocktail party the night she was arrested, and although it’s a little incongruous on a Wednesday afternoon, it’s such a fucking relief not to see her in orange that I almost burst into tears.
Linc’s arms release me, and before I even give my legs the command to move, I’m walking toward her, then I’m running, and she’s running toward me. We practically knock each other over when we collide, but I don’t fucking care because it’s my mom, and I’m hugging her, I’m finally hugging her after way too long.
She’s laughing and crying at the same time, and I can feel her body shaking against mine. I pet her hair and press my face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her soft scent.
Mom.
She’s back.
She’s free.
We keep almost letting go and then clinging to each other again, and when she finally pulls back, she cups my face in her hands, her cheeks flushed and stained with tears.
“Let me look at you,” she whispers.
Even though we just saw each other a few days ago, I know what she means.
This is the first time in months we’ve seen each other without a plexiglass partition separating us, and it’s like a fucking veil has been lifted. I can see the little flecks of amber that dapple her brown irises, can see the small laugh lines around her eyes, the flyaway strands of dark hair that frame her face.
She’s beautiful.
And when I tell her so, she throws back her head and laughs. Then she wraps her arm around my waist, securing me tightly against her, and turns toward the two waiting cars and the four boys gathered around them.
“Come on. Let’s go say hello to your fellas.”
Mom’s step is light, and I feel a sort of manic, exuberant energy radiating from her that makes me think she could run all the way back to the Black’s house without even breaking a sweat right now, as if just being outside the prison walls has given her a massive shot of adrenaline.
Maybe some people would hold on to their bitterness and anger after the kind of shit she’s been through. But that’s never really been Mom’s style. She looks forward, not back, and even though she has ups and downs, she always come back to hope in the end.
Lincoln, River, Dax, and Chase all step forward as we approach. They’re grinning, all of them happy to see me so happy, and when we reach them, I disentangle from my mom and stand between her and them to make the introductions.
“I think you’ve all met before, and I know you know Linc, Mom. But these are the—the guys I’ve been seeing.”
I curse myself for the little hiccup in my voice. Generally speaking, I don’t give a shit if people look at us strangely when we’re all out together, trying to figure out which guy I’m with before slowly realizing I haven’t picked just one of them. But I do care what my mom thinks.
“Of course I remember Lincoln.” Mom smiles at him, then shifts her gaze to the others. “And it’s nice to officially meet the rest of you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
That’s true. Mom and I have had several long talks in the aftermath of Hollowell’s death. Finally free to tell her everything without fear of reprisal, I spilled my guts about all of it, not stopping until my voice was hoarse and my lips dry.
Hearing about everything that’d been going on shocked and scared her, and it took a lot of reassuring to convince her that it really was over, that I was no longer in danger.
I worried that on top of being weirded out about me dating four guys, Mom would blame them for what happened—hell, I did at first. But the truth is, they’ve done more to keep me safe than I could’ve ever asked of them, lifting me up and giving me hope and support when I needed it.
And I hope she sees that too.
She and the guys talk for a few minutes, and I slip between Lincoln and Dax as they do. I can feel Mom’s gaze bouncing back and forth between me and them, and I think it’s this, more than anything else, that wins her over.
I can feel it, and maybe she can see it: the way their bodies shift toward mine as if constantly pulled closer by an invisible force, the way they seem to arrange themselves around me unconsciously, protective and attentive.
A smile blooms across Mom’s face, different than the one she wore when she first greeted them. This one is softer and sweeter, a reaction to some private thought. She casts her gaze over the guys one more time, then claps her hands together, straightening her shoulders.
“All right. What do you say we get the hell out of here?”
* * *
Mom and I both move back into the Black family’s house.
Samuel’s offer to give her back her Executive Housekeeper position when she got out seems like a promise made a lifetime ago, but he apparently hasn’t forgotten about it.
She and I talked a lot before she got out of prison about what exactly we would do now. Honestly, I was a little torn about her going back to her old job, for reasons I could never quite articulate. Maybe it’s because I was worried I wouldn’t be able to see her walking around the mansion in her work outfit without thinking of the night she was dragged out by police officers.
But it’s a good job, with good pay and a boss who appreciates her, who went above and beyond to help her daughter when she was arrested.
And she’s adamant about staying in Fox Hill, at least until I graduate. She says she likes this kind of work, and even if she stops working for the Black family eventually, she’s found her calling in managing staff and organizing events.
She takes over for Bri Marshall a week after being released from Fox Hill Correctional Center, and it’s almost eerie how quickly things settle back to normal. I have dinner with her every evening in her little apartment, and Lincoln sneaks into my bedroom most nights, or I sneak into his. His parents know we’re officially dating now, and they know about the other guys too.
I think Samuel Black is proud of his son. Not for the whole sharing thing, exactly—I think he’s still a little weirded out by that part. But for fighting for what he wants, for choosing me.
Samuel and Audrey’s marriage is dissolving, and I think Linc is right that his dad is heartbroken about it. I do feel bad for him, but I can’t blame Audrey at all for her choice. I hope he’ll be more careful with the hearts of the people he loves in the future.
A couple weeks after Mom’s release, Principal Osterhaut invites both of us into his office.
Part of me wonders if it’s just curiosity on his part—a burning desire to meet the woman who’s become fucking legendary at my school by this point. But, as it turns out, it’s for the much less exciting task of talking about my grades. My classwork in every single subject took a major hit at the beginning of the semester, and I’ve only just started to crawl out of the hole I dug for myself.
“We understand that you were going through something very… unique, and because of these unprecedented circumstances, it’s been decided that you’ll be allowed to do makeup work in all your classes to get a chance to bring your grades back up. You were a very promising student your first semester with us, so I have no doubt you’ll be able to make the most of this opportunity.”
Osterhaut leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk and affixing me with a fatherly stare that holds just a slight hint of interest—as if he’s hoping to pick up some little details about the ordeals Mom and I each went through but knows it would be impolite to ask.
Ugh. No way, buddy.
I’ve had to tell the story in
everything from broad strokes to minute detail enough times that I hope I never have to utter a word about it again. Not to Osterhaut, not to reporters, not to any of the wide-eyed underclassmen who’ve staring at me and the kings as if we’re some kinds of celebrities.
“Thanks,” I say instead. “I’ll do my best.”
And I do.
It means that for the second half of the semester, instead of being able to relax and coast the way I feel I’ve earned, I have to buckle down and study my ass off. But I do.
The guys help, quizzing me on Calculus and finding… creative ways to reward me for correct answers. And the honest truth is, being buried in homework still beats being blackmailed by a psychopathic judge by a long shot.
With the spotlight thrown on the five of us after the story about Hollowell spreads, Savannah seems to realize that feuding with us is the fastest route to unpopularity she could take, so she backs off her threats to spill Linc’s family’s secrets or go digging for more dirt on the guys. We end up alone in the girls’ bathroom once right after spring break, and she turns to me, opening her mouth like she’s going to say something. But then she shuts it again and leaves.
I have no idea what she was planning to say. Whether she was going to thank me or find some way to accuse me of being behind the whole thing. But she stops glaring at me in the halls, and if a truce is the best I’ll ever get with Savannah, hey, I’ll take it.
There’s one thing that’s still bothering me though. That’s bothered me ever since the day Hollowell died. Something that takes me weeks to fully process, and even longer to be ready to talk about.
“He saved me,” I murmur one night just before graduation. I’m curled up in Linc’s arms, our legs tangled together as I rest my head on his chest, absorbing the solid, reassuring sound of his heartbeat. “Hollowell. He saved my life.”
There’s a small pause, then I feel Lincoln nod. “Yeah. He did.”
“But…” I lift my head, draping myself over him a little more fully as I gaze at his face in the darkness. “Why? I mean, why would he do that? He’d already killed Iris. He’d already as good as threatened to kill me. And I honestly think he would’ve done it if he had to. So why save me? It was his last act. It was the last thing he ever did.”
Lincoln lets out a sharp breath, reaching up to run his fingers through my hair. “I don’t know, Low. I’ve asked myself that question more times than I can count, and I still don’t fucking know.” His hand halts its motion, his eyes flashing in the dim light. “I hate that motherfucker. I hate him for what he put you through—what he put us all through.”
Then he hauls me higher up his body, banding his arms around me and kissing me hard, like he’s trying to remind himself that he still can. That I’m still here. When we break apart, we’re both breathing a little harder, and I can feel his body shudder lightly beneath mine as he exhales a long sigh.
“But what I’ve decided is this: it doesn’t matter why he did it. Maybe he wanted to do one decent thing before he died. Maybe he was trying to save his own damn soul. Or maybe he just hated Niles D’Amato more than he ever hated any of us. I’ll never get the chance to ask him, so I’ll never know for sure.”
His hands skim up my body, drifting up past my shoulders to thread through my hair again as he cradles my face, holding it just a few inches from his own.
“But what I do know is, you’re alive. And I’m so fucking grateful for that.”
Epilogue
It’s the sunrise that wakes me up.
I think my body can sense that our vacation is about to come to an end, but instead of letting me sleep in like a normal high school graduate in her last weeks of summer break, it wakes me up early, demanding I not waste any of these last few precious days on something as trivial as sleep.
Who needs it anyway?
I managed to make it to graduation with my GPA mostly intact, and if there were still a few low B’s floating around on my transcript, it certainly didn’t make Mom or Hunter cheer any less loudly for me when Principal Osterhaut announced my name. And I still got into the same university as the guys, which was the only thing I was really concerned about.
Hunter met all of them when she came out to celebrate my graduation, just after walking in her own ceremony in Bayard a week earlier. She teased the fuck out of me for being, as she put it, “a badass bitch with four smokin’ hot boyfriends”, but she gave them all her best friend stamp of approval. Which is a good thing, because neither of us were kidding about our plan—she’ll be going to the same school as the five of us in the fall.
We’ll start college soon, which feels fucking weird to say. But before we tackle that mountain, the guys and I decided to have one last little hurrah, so we rented a beach house in Cape Cod for a couple weeks. We’ve only got a few more days left here though, and I’m not ready to return to real life.
The curtains are open on the sliding glass door, allowing orange sunlight to creep across the floor like slow flowing lava. Dax’s arm is thrown over my waist, and there are several other body-shaped lumps under the blanket on the king-sized bed. There are several other bedrooms in the house, but we all seemed to gravitate toward the one with the biggest bed from day one.
Not that I’m complaining. At all.
Holding my breath and using all my ninja skills, I maneuver out from under Dax’s arm and slip out of bed without waking him. Just because I can’t sleep past six a.m. doesn’t mean everyone should be forced to wake up with the sun on our last week of freedom before school starts.
The sunlight is just beginning to heat the hardwood floor, which feels cool against my bare feet as I pad toward the door. I’m only wearing panties and Chase’s t-shirt, which hangs down to just below my ass, but the back patio leads directly to the private beach behind the house, so no one will be able to see me.
I slide the door open and shut it behind me, tilting my head up to catch the first soft rays of the sun—when a hand whips out and grasps my wrist.
A startled yelp escapes me, and I slap my free hand over my chest as I turn to face Lincoln. He’s sitting in one of the large deck chairs, which is offset just enough from the glass doors that I couldn’t see him before I stepped outside.
“Jesus Christ,” I gasp, panting dramatically. “My heart.”
He smirks at me, then tugs on my wrist, pulling me onto his lap so I’m straddling him. He’s shirtless, wearing just a pair of cargo shorts that fall low on his hips, and a week and a half of lounging in the sun every day has given his skin a gorgeous golden glow that complements the dark gleam of his hair.
He grabs my other wrist too, pinning my hands at my lower back as he nips at my bottom lip.
“You’re up early,” he murmurs.
“Not as early as you.” I brush my lips against his, stealing little half kisses before I draw back to look into his eyes. “I didn’t even realize you were awake.”
Not that I counted the bodies in bed before I got up. Although maybe I should start doing that.
He shrugs, his gaze tracking over my face, his amber eyes warm. “I woke up about an hour ago. Couldn’t sleep, so I came out here to watch the sunrise.”
“Me too.” Then I let out a soft chuckle, realizing he’s put me directly in his view of said sunrise. The slowly rising sun behind me is casting my shadow over Lincoln’s face. “You can’t see it at all anymore, can you?”
“Don’t care.”
The words are a hungry growl as he sits a up little straighter, claiming another kiss.
“I can’t see it either,” I comment in a teasing whisper.
“Oh, you want to see the sunrise?”
“Eh.”
I shrug noncommittally and am about to go in for another kiss when Lincoln suddenly leans me backward, supporting me with one arm so my back arches and my head tilts, giving me an upside-down view of the rising sun.
“There you go.”
“Gee, thanks.”
A dry laugh huffs out of me, but it
turns into another sound entirely as Linc uses his free hand to push the soft, oversized t-shirt up my stomach, sliding it over my breasts and bunching it up just below my collarbone.
I’m bared to him, bared to the whole fucking world, to the sky and the wind and the gulls that swoop and call in the air above us. The air is warm, but my nipples peak anyway, and when he drops his head to draw one into his mouth, I grind my hips against him, arching my back even more.
“It’s a beautiful sunrise, isn’t it?” he murmurs, devouring my skin with languorous strokes of his tongue.
“Mmm…”
I think that noise was supposed to be an agreement, but I’ve already forgotten what the question was. His cock is hardening against me, pressing against my clit as I circle my hips, riding him even though he’s supporting almost all my weight.
When he bites down on the skin of my breast, sucking it into his mouth, my body jerks, my arms flailing for a handhold.
“Fuck! Linc!”
He lifts me back up, and the head rush combined with the spike of arousal in my veins makes me so dizzy I can’t even see straight for a moment. I kiss him hard as all the blood rushes out of my head and straight to my pussy, and a second later, he surges to his feet, holding me in his arms. He reaches out quickly to slide the glass door open, closing it again before setting me down just inside the door.
“It really is a gorgeous fucking sunrise, Low. You don’t want to miss it.”
Before I can regain my equilibrium, he spins me around, then slides his hands along my arms to place my palms against the glass pane of the door. We’re both facing the ocean now, and he’s right—it really is a stunning view.
Too bad I can’t focus on it one bit at the moment.
“Do you realize how beautiful you are like this?” His voice is a low rasp in my ear, and it sends a shiver all the way down to my toes. “Dressed in Chase’s shirt, your gorgeous ass just peeking out, your legs so damn sexy I want to lick all the way up them. I want to lick every fucking inch of you. And you know what? I think I will.”