by Kit Rocha
Dallas didn't need another follower. He needed a friend. "Good. You'll be good for him."
"I hope so."
She brushed her lips over his. "What else do you hope for?"
"You," he answered simply.
The butterflies exploded. Into love.
She tangled her arms around his neck and laughed when he spun her again. The room swooped past in a blur, the smiling faces of her O'Kane brothers and sisters. Even when she had to close her eyes against dizziness, they were there with her—an afterimage etched on the backs of her eyelids. Her family, joyous and celebrating.
The music pounded in time with the blood in her veins, and she wrapped her legs around Ryder's waist and gave in to it. Primal and carefree, sensual and powerful, electrically alive.
An O'Kane. For life.
Declan
There were advantages, Dallas realized, to having unlimited access to the resources and tools of Sector Eight.
He'd always been vaguely curious about how such a small number of factories turned out so many different types of goods and supplies—but not curious enough to go digging. Now he knew the answer.
Ruthless fucking efficiency.
The people in Eight could recycle anything. Break it down into its fundamental parts and then use their fancy printing machines to turn it into something new. Words like rubble and garbage had a different meaning there—resources.
Ryder had pulled a few strings for them, as had Ford and Mia. Dallas's share of Peterson's hoarded resources had done the rest. The Broken Circle was rising from the ashes, bigger and badder and a hundred times more debauched.
It sprawled across the lots that had housed both the old bar and the fight night warehouse, and rose five stories straight up. The massive basement held the new-and-improved fight arena, all set up for nightly betting and weekly blowouts. The ground floor would have plenty of space for dedicated drinking, but there was room for a dance floor now, too. And the shows would go on—on the main stage for the dancing, and exclusive stages where people could pay extra for something a little more hardcore.
Jared and Lili would rule over the second floor. Elite access for people who wanted to gamble with high stakes and drink Nessa's finest. And a lounge for the VIPs, decked out in all the leather and chains a celebrated deviant could want. Gia had even teased him about bringing her girls and boys over once a week to entertain—for a price.
A real den of sin. And it was gonna be fucking beautiful.
"The foreman left you another exasperated note." Lex walked in, with what was presumably the offending note clutched in one hand. "Still trying to pin you down on wall finishings." She wrinkled her nose. "Bare brick and wood were always good enough for us before. Don't know why that should change."
Dallas glared at the note. "Probably because he can charge us more if he talks me into something fancy. I'll put on my scary face and make it clear."
"Tread carefully. If you run him off, who knows where we'll find another."
"We'd make it work." He plucked the letter from her hand, tossed it on his desk, and hauled her down into his lap. "I got a different kind of exasperated note today. From Markovic."
"Really?" She frowned. "Not a problem, I hope."
"More like polite nagging." He rested his chin on her shoulder and inhaled. After coming back from the dead, he wasn't taking this miracle for granted—the scent of Lex, the feel of her body against his. The way she'd taste when he finally got his mouth on her skin. "He's still arguing for a central government. All of us sector leaders parking our asses in those fancy townhouses and ruling from on high alongside him."
She coughed to cover a choked noise that sounded like a laugh. "I see."
There'd been a time when Markovic's offer would have seemed like the next logical step to Dallas, when the influence the man was offering would have seduced him. But that dark, power-hungry little part of him had almost cost him Lex, and the war had given him a bellyful of deciding who lived and died.
"I'd do it if you wanted to," he whispered against her neck. "It's as true today as it was the day I first made the promise. Beggar or king, Lex. I'll be whatever you want me to be."
She stroked his cheek. "I've only ever wanted you to be one thing—mine."
He inched his fingers under her shirt and stroked her skin, where his name was inked low on her abdomen. "That's a given."
"I mean it." She turned her head to meet his eyes. "I wanted you when everything you owned fit into one shitty little safe in your bedroom."
"And I wanted you when I caught you trying to rob it." He grinned at her. "Thank fucking God you did."
"Mmm. So what are you really asking me? If I want to live in some fancy place in the city and have people to bathe and dress me? Or if it's okay for you to want that?"
Trust Lex to ask the question that cut right to the heart of his turmoil. "More like if it's okay not to want it. I mean, I'm all for keeping an eye on what Markovic builds to replace the shit we tore down…" But damn near dying had a way of clarifying things. And after years of scrabbling, he finally knew what he wanted.
She grinned and cupped his face. "It's okay to be Dallas O'Kane, barbarian bootlegger. It's better than okay. It's perfect."
Knowing that Lex would always prod him to be the best version of himself was a comfort. But knowing she didn't want him to be someone else, that she saw him clearly and loved him for it—
Well that transcended comfort. Fuck, it transcended words. Maybe someday someone would invent one that felt big enough.
Until then, he used the ones he had. "I love you, Alexa," he murmured against her lips. "So let's settle down and rule our den of sin."
"For life, Declan."
She'd said it before, a dozen times. But now they could see past the threat of Eden, decide who they wanted to be. For the first time, Declan O'Kane saw the hazy promise of a future he'd never imagined possible.
Love. Laughter. Family.
Peace.
"For life," he echoed, and sealed the promise with a kiss.
Six Months Later
Birthing babies still took forever.
Nessa accepted a coffee from Ryder and snuggled against him when he sat on the couch next to her. "Someone needs to keep an eye on Ace," she murmured. "Everyone thinks Cruz is gonna be the one to crack, but Ace has been storing it up."
"He'll be fine. Have a little faith."
Easy for him to say. The O'Kanes still didn't have a lot of experience with babies, though the fact that Eden wasn't spiking the water with contraceptives anymore might change that. Nessa saw pregnant women all over the marketplace these days—like everyone who'd ever wanted a baby had leapt at the opportunity.
Or maybe it was just the natural result of that first month of victory celebrations. She was pretty sure that was what had gotten Jas and Noelle, anyway.
The door opened, stopping all conversation around the room, but Jyoti was the one who stepped through. "Everything's going fine," she assured everyone. "Lex, can you come deal with Ace before Kora and Dylan kick him out of the room?"
"I'm on it." She rose, then leaned over Dallas with a grin. After a moment, she straightened, the flask from his pocket in one hand. "This is Plan B."
He snorted. "Plan C can be Zan and Bren sitting on him, I guess."
"Nah," Zan retorted. "Save us for when Cruz freaks out."
Nessa rolled her eyes. "If someone needs to sit on Ace, Lex will sit on Ace. She's plans A-Z."
"If he gets too shaky, I'll distract him by having him comfort me. Working smarter, not harder, remember?"
Ryder chuckled. "That's a tactic worthy of an evil mastermind. I'm impressed."
Lex followed Jyoti out of the room, and Nessa sipped her coffee. "I should have made you bet me. I know Ace."
"I'm not a betting man, darling."
She would have called him a liar, but Hawk was approaching with a nervous look in his eyes that she recognized all too well. He dragged a chair from a nearby ta
ble and spun it around before straddling it. "Ryder. Do you have a few minutes?"
"I don't think any of us are going anywhere for a while. What's up?"
"I was wondering if you could take the time to meet with my sisters." Even after nearly a year with the O'Kanes, Hawk could be reserved almost to the point of shyness. But he looked determined now. "They want to expand their business now that trade's opened up in Eden. They've been spinning and dyeing yarn, selling it as fast as they can make it. They need better equipment—and it's more expensive than what I can pay for."
Ryder considered that, and Nessa could almost see the wheels turning in his head. "Do they have a supplier lined up?"
"They have a few leads. A couple on livestock, too. Since Markovic went after the illegal farms for using child labor, a lot of those bastards are looking to unload for quick cash." Hawk quirked his lips. "We just need to get to them before someone else does."
"Why not?" Ryder shrugged one shoulder. "I'll meet with them, see what they have planned, and we'll make it happen."
Hawk heaved a sigh of relief, and Nessa bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. Ryder's investments were serious business, not in the least because she knew the O'Kanes trusted his instincts. Ryder would talk to Hawk's sisters, make suggestions where he saw the possibility for improvement, and help them achieve their dream.
Making his money back wasn't a priority for Ryder, but some of his investments were already paying off. The store he'd helped Tatiana open up inside Eden was the biggest success, but Ace's art gallery had notoriety going for it—and crowds of people showing up on the off chance he'd make an appearance and they could say they'd seen the infamous Alexander Santana with their own eyes.
With Ryder's help, some of the O'Kanes were stretching their wings a little. Dipping their toes into passions they'd never thought to explore. With Eden's markets open to them, Dallas could afford to hire workers to pick up the slack—and help with increased production.
And Nessa could take the occasional day off. For adventures.
Hawk spent a few more minutes trading ideas and setting up a time before shaking Ryder's hand to seal the deal. As soon as he was gone, Jyoti wandered over to discuss some obscure question of trade with Ryder, and Nessa let their words form a pleasant hum as she cuddled deeper into his side and sipped her coffee.
Everyone in the room was talking. Six and Bren were sitting with Dallas. Mad and Scarlet were sitting with Jared, and Lili joined them with a plate of cookies. Hawk was back over there with Zan and Finn, undoubtedly discussing cars. Voices rose and fell, the cheer behind them so determined she could have almost believed it.
People were happy. But they also were carefully not looking at the corner.
Nessa's gaze slid there in spite of herself, and it was like a cloud drifting in front of the sun. Amira seemed serene enough, sitting between Jas and Noelle. Hana had crawled out of her lap and was stringing the words she knew together with a healthy amount of baby gibberish to tell Noelle something of the utmost importance, judging by the expression on her tiny, perfect face.
The last time they'd all gathered like this, it had been for her. Nessa could close her eyes and remember everything, straight down to Six's amusement and Ace's adorable panic.
It still hurt. Six months wasn't enough to mourn Flash. Six years wouldn't be. There was a hole in their lives now that they'd always have to step around, memories that had become bittersweet at best.
But they were living. As long as they were living, there was hope.
As if to underscore that, a baby wailed in the hallway. Conversation cut off abruptly, and all eyes swung to the door.
Lex came in first, smiling widely. She held the door open for Cruz, who followed with a screaming bundle of baby. Ace was right behind him with a second bundle, and he grinned at the expectant room. "Isaac already has my temper, and Rosalía here is perfect, like her mama."
The tension burst into laughter, and the O'Kanes rushed toward them. Nessa groped for Ryder's hand and turned to look up at him. "Isaac," she said softly. "It's Flash's real name. No one ever used it, but…"
His answering smile was soft and somehow serious. "The best kind of tribute."
Something that would keep him with them, honored, forever. Nessa dashed the tears from her eyes and kissed Ryder once, hard. Then she jumped to her feet and joined the jostling crowd of O'Kanes trying to get their eyeballs and hands on the newest members of their family.
"Come on, Ace," Dallas called over the noise. "You know who gets to hold her first."
"Yeah," Nessa countered loudly. "The person who's gonna give you a bottle of black cherry bourbon."
Ace looked back and forth between the two of them, then deposited his daughter carefully in Nessa's arms. "Sorry, boss," he told Dallas. "Got a better offer."
"Asshole," Dallas murmured, but Nessa barely noticed.
Rosalía was tiny and perfect, gazing up at Nessa with sleepy bluish eyes. She had a fringe of dark black hair and ten perfect fingers clenched into adorable little fists.
Nessa didn't want to puke on Ace anymore.
"Hi, Rosalía," she whispered. "I'm your terrible Aunt Nessa. When you're older, I'm gonna help you get into so much trouble, because overprotective dads can bite me."
Ryder leaned over her shoulder, his hands on her arms, as if he was afraid an embrace might jostle the baby. "That's another one for the list."
She smiled as she mentally added it to her list of dreams. Be a terrible influence on this baby.
That one? She'd have no problem pulling off.
Across the room, Isaac finally stopped crying. Nessa looked up to see Amira cradling him in her arms, a gentle smile on her lips. Noelle held Hana on her lap, intercepting the girl's hands as she reached eagerly for the baby.
"He's gorgeous," Amira whispered. "I'm so happy for you."
Ace leaned down to kiss the top of her head, and Nessa swallowed around the lump in her throat and remembered a promise she'd made. The tribute to Flash that she still owed. She twisted her head to look back at Ryder. "I need a favor."
"Anything, Nessa."
He meant it. Which was why she loved him.
The road trip was glorious.
Nessa hadn't admitted it to anyone—even herself—but she'd been scared. The harrowing trip from Texas still featured in nightmares that grew over years until the idea of leaving her snug fortress at the heart of Sector Four was unthinkable.
Maybe the war had given her a different standard for measuring fear. Or maybe it was just the promise—for Flash, she'd face down any terror. But from the first moment she and Amira bundled Hana into the car with Ryder behind the wheel, it was perfect.
Ryder knew everything. All of that education Jim and his mother had crammed into his head came out in the oddest ways. He knew pre-Flare history and geography, and he knew how to make it come to life. He told them about Reno as they drove past empty, decaying structures, and about how the thriving city had died when Eden and the Base redirected the river supplying it to irrigate their communes and farms.
He told them about the Sierra Nevadas, giving the distant peaks Nessa had lived with for half her life a name. Nessa rolled the window down as they drove along roads that seemed carved between jagged mountains and leaned out in an attempt to take it all in.
She couldn't. It was so much, so vast. They parked by the side of the road at a particularly high spot, where a pair of stone picnic tables had survived the elements. While Hana chewed on a brownie Lili had sent with them, Ryder smoothed a map—an actual, honest-to-God, printed on paper map—out on the table and traced their path for her, all three hundred and fifty miles from Eden to the vast swath of blue dominating the left side of the paper.
The ocean. Just like she'd promised.
Nessa had seen it in movies before, but vids and her imagination didn't do it justice. They parked in an overgrown parking lot just before noon on the third day, and she was overwhelmed the second she pushed open
the door.
The smell—salt and something else she couldn't put her finger on, almost like the one time her grandfather had gotten his hands on some crabs and boiled them. And the sound—the waves crashed and surged, and birds flew overhead, crying out to each other in alarm.
Amira stood next to her, fingers pressed to her trembling lips. "Pictures make it look so calm."
Nessa wrapped her arm around Amira's waist. "And small. I thought the reservoir was big."
"It goes on forever, doesn't it?"
Nessa's eyes prickled as Ryder brought Hana around the side of the car. "Not forever. There's islands all through it, and land on the other side. We just can't see it."
"But it's there." Amira smiled. "It's beautiful. Untamed. That seems better than calm, somehow."
"Because it's like us. Wild." She squeezed Amira tighter. "Let's go get our feet wet."
She didn't know how Ryder had found them a stretch of quiet, sandy beach, but it was perfect. They kicked off their boots and socks and went right down to the edge of the water. Hana squealed the first time a wave rolled in and splashed her little legs with cold water, and Amira swept her up with a laugh.
It was the most beautiful thing Nessa had ever heard.
Later, stretched out on a blanket they'd flung across the sand, Nessa watched Hana offer Amira a fistful of dried seaweed and smiled. "Thank you for making this happen."
Ryder made a soft noise and cracked open one eye. "You're welcome."
"I mean it." She picked up another brownie and broke it in half, offering him part. She couldn't say she'd softened him up too much in six months, but she had time. Hopefully years. Decades. "I made a promise. You helped me keep it."
"I know." He rolled to face her. "It turns out, I really like your dreams. Especially making them come true."
For the first time in months, nervousness fluttered in her belly. She laid her hand on his cheek and rubbed her thumb over his lower lip to soothe herself. "I have another dream, you know."
"Does it involve swimming? Because that water is cold."