by Bo Reid
“Please, Nash, I don’t think I can tell them. Especially not after that,” I say.
“Okay, Darlin'. Let’s go get you in bed and I’ll tell them.” I nod my head and let him lead me to my room. “What happened today? Something caused this, this isn’t you.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. “One of the agents… he got out of hand. Nothing serious, it wouldn’t have even phased me before, but…” I trail off and Nash nods as his jaw clenches in frustration.
“He’s dirty?” he asks.
“At least two of them are shady, dirty, probably on someone’s payroll.”
He nods. “You think they have something to do with this setup?”
“Crossed my mind.”
He places a small kiss on my forehead before tucking me into bed like a small child. When he closes the door behind him I let my tears fall, burying my head in my pillow and scream until my throat’s raw.
Nash
I close Morana’s door behind me as I walk down the hall, knocking on Ranger’s bedroom door before moving on to get Hunter as well.
“Where is she?” Ranger growls at me like I’m the one that hurt her.
“Laying down. You both need to sit down,” I say, gesturing to the couch as we enter the living room.
“No, we need to see her,” Hunter says and turns towards her room.
“No,” I say firmly, reaching out to grip his arm, stopping him from leaving. “You need to sit your asses down and hear what I’m about to say.”
They reluctantly agree and take seats across from me as I sit in the chair. I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, running my hands down my face and blow out a deep breath. This is harder than I thought it would be.
“What the fuck, Nash?” Ranger growls.
“Do you guys remember after Morana woke up in the hospital and told us what happened while she was gone?”
“Yes,” they both agree.
“Do you guys remember her kicking you guys out, then later that night I brought her home and we had a classic sleepover?”
“Yes.” They nod in unison.
“She told me some things after you guys left and made me promise to let her tell you in her own time.”
“Nash, get to the fucking point,” Ranger growls.
“The point is, tonight she asked me to tell you.”
“Tell us what?” Hunter asks.
“Maverick raped her in that cabin.”
“What?” Ranger growls and Hunter’s face falls, all the color leaving his features while Ranger’s face reddens in anger.
“He became obsessed with her, and when she picked you guys over him, he lost it. That’s why he tortured her over just outright killing her. I guess, in a way, his obsession saved her life. Then when she almost died, he brought her out of the basement, cleaned her up. Acted like he was caring for her, to him she was his. He raped her, then told her he was going to kill us so she could never pick you guys over him again,” I explain, the words sticking in my throat as I reveal the details she told me.
“Why didn’t she tell us?” Hunter asks.
“At first she was worried you guys wouldn’t want her anymore. That you would see her as damaged goods or something. I told her that wouldn’t be the case. She asked me to give her one night of peace with all of us and that she would tell you guys after that.”
“Only she never told us,” Hunter says in a quiet voice.
“I know. I asked her every day for a while, but she just kept saying she was fine. That she didn’t need to talk about it.”
“But clearly she’s not fucking fine,” Ranger growls.
“No, she’s not, because one of those fucking FBI agents touched her. She said it was fine. That whatever he did wouldn’t have even phased her before Maverick, but that it fucked with her head. Then you grabbed her from behind,” I gesture towards Ranger, “and she just couldn’t shake it off. So, no, she’s not fucking fine.”
“I…I didn’t mean it, I was just relieved she was back,” Ranger says quietly, falling back against the couch.
“I know, and she knows. She doesn’t blame you. She feels bad for how she reacted,” I explain.
“But that’s not her fault,” Ranger says.
“You know how you feel guilty even though she doesn’t blame you?” I ask and he nods. “Well, that’s how she feels. You guys have always been like that. Always feeling guilty over something the other doesn’t even fault you for.”
“One of these days you both might actually have to accept your feelings and fucking communicate them,” Hunter grumbles.
“And that’ll be when Hell freezes, pigs fly, and Morana likes the summer.” I roll my eyes.
Hunter
Pacing around the living room, I can’t get that fucker Maverick out of my head. I want to bring him back from the dead just to kill him again.
The level of overkill and rage that was present in his body makes more sense now. We couldn’t put it together why our girl would spend so much time, strength, and effort to stab him repeatedly when she was losing as much blood as she was. It’s clear now. Painfully clear.
When I can’t take it any longer, I walk down the hallway to her bedroom and knock softly. Ranger won’t come back here; he’s beating himself up for grabbing her like he did. But it’s not his fault, he couldn’t have known what it would do to her. Even so, he’s struggling to move past it.
Seeing her like that, it was enough to break us.
Knowing why could ruin us.
“Pretty Girl, can I come in?” I call softly, and when her small voice calls through the door I enter.
Instead of taking a seat on her bed or under the covers with her, I pull a chair over next to the bed. I just want to hold her; I want to be able to make her forget the pain of everything. But I don’t want to be the one to trigger another sort of panic attack.
“Nash talked to you,” she states. It’s not a question and I nod.
“Pretty Girl, I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“I don’t need or want your pity Hunter. You can go, that won’t happen again. I’m fine,” she says, her voice devoid of any emotion, devoid of Morana. My girl isn’t here right now.
She thinks I’m here to tell her I don’t want her, and she’s walling herself off so she doesn’t end up hurt. She’s pushing me away like always. Always a wall up, emotions always boxed away. Always pushing us away from her, either to protect us or to protect herself. Either way, she just hurts us all in the end.
“You’re clearly not fucking fine,” I growl, trying to keep my own emotions in check for her sake, but I’m not willing to lose her.
“I said it wouldn’t happen again,” she says and rolls over in bed, giving me her back as she stares out the windows.
“Why are you pushing me away?” I whisper, suddenly feeling the weight of her past on my shoulders.
“Because it’s easier to push you away first then to hear you don’t want me anymore,” she whispers, barely loud enough to be heard and it spears my heart.
How could she possibly think I wouldn’t want her? She told Nash she didn’t want to tell us the full truth about Maverick because she thought she was damaged. After all these years it still baffles me how she could think so little of herself.
“Pretty Girl,” I say getting up and walk around so she has to look at me again. I lift her covers, watching her face for any negative reaction as I slide underneath.
I reach my hand out for her. When she accepts my outstretched hand, I pull her close to me, not letting an inch of space separate us. “Tell me to stop whenever you need to,” I whisper. “But Morana, there is no way in Hell I am ever fucking letting you go. Do you understand me?” I ask, hugging her tightly to my chest.
“But- “she starts to argue.
“No, I’m never letting you go, and neither’s Ranger. He’s beating himself up right now for putting you through those memories again.”
“It wasn’t him. It was just everything,” she whi
spers.
“I know Pretty Girl, but you’re going to have to open up now, even the hard stuff. Communicate what you need. We’ll do whatever you need us to. Do you get that? Anything you need, just tell us and consider it done.” I plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. “We want all of you Morana, we always have. The good, the bad, the dirty, the damaged, you’re everything to us and we willingly hand over every part of ourselves to you. You know everything about us, you always have, we just want to know every part of you in return. Okay?”
“I don’t want you to look at me differently. I don’t want pity, or for you guys to treat me like a glass doll. I just want to be me,” she whispers. “I don’t want to lose who I am.”
“But what if something like what happened today happens again? What do you need from us?” I whisper.
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t have a fucking clue,” she sighs.
Holding her close to my chest with my arms wrapped around her, she slowly falls asleep in my arms. I hope to god we can bring her back from this, give her what she needs.
I watch Morana as she stands at the edge of the water, letting the tide wash over her feet. We’re not sure why but she insisted we make the four hour drive out to the coast today. So we got up early and Lucinda packed us lunch and snacks for the drive. Aeron called us in sick and we took off.
Sometimes the things he’ll do without question for his daughter still shocks me. But I see it in his eyes, the worry, the concern, the way he breaks slightly every time she walks away. When she goes to a job, coming home covered in blood and a smile on her face.
He acts like an I-don’t-give-a-fuck mob boss, but the truth is she’s always been his world, and if you look closely you can watch as his world slowly cracks and shatters around him.
The remote cove we stumbled upon while driving up the coast is deserted. Today’s not a beach day. The wind is harsh and cold with grey storm clouds looming overhead.
Yet our girl stands in the freezing ocean water in nothing but shorts and an oversized hoodie, her hair whipping back and forth in the wind.
As soon as we got here she kicked her shoes off and made her way into the water. We tried to stay by her side but we can’t handle the cold as well as she does.
“Either of you know why we’re here?” Nash finally voices the question on all our minds. If anyone would’ve known I would have guessed it would have been him.
“Nope,” I say.
“'Cause she wanted to come,” Ranger says, and I chuckle. If that doesn’t sum up our lives these days I don’t know what would.
We can use ‘because Morana wanted to’ as our reason for doing just about anything. Our lives revolve around her as much as she pushes us to do our own thing. We always end up back with her, and I’m confident that we always will.
When Morana looks over her shoulder and smiles at us it’s like the missing ray of sunshine from this beach-filled adventure.
“You guys decide on prom?” Nash asks us. And we shrug.
Ranger and I both want to ask Morana, but regardless of the fact that she’d say no, we can’t ask her. We’ve come too far over the years to fuck it up now. It was hard not to fall in love with her, trust me, I actively tried. I figured she was going to end up with Ranger, he was here first after all. Dibs and all that.
But I couldn’t help it, there’s just something about her that makes me want to dive headfirst into the unknown. It doesn’t matter where I go in life as long as I have her in my future.
“We should all just go as a group,” Ranger says. “Unless you guys asked someone else?” he says, shrugging nonchalantly. I scoff, he knows damn well I didn’t ask anyone else, how could I? There isn’t anyone else that could hold a candle to our girl.
Nash isn’t in love with Morana, at least not that we know about, but he loves her like a sister. He loves her how we’re supposed to love her.
“You know she isn’t going to go,” Nash says, fixing his gaze on the horizon.
“I just wish she could have one normal night, one night that doesn’t end in murder,” I sigh, running my hand over my face.
“I just wish I could have one night with her,” Ranger says.
“One night would never be enough,” I whisper.
Chapter 3: Ricin
Talin
“Are we sure she’s capable of what they say she is? I mean look at her!” Agent Holt yells exasperated, as we sit in an unmarked car tailing Morana Valdis and her crew.
I understand what she means. The first thing that comes to mind is her size. She’s barely five foot two and maybe one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. Could she be capable of the force necessary to do what the rumors claim?
On the other hand, her brothers look like they’d have no issue taking out hundreds of men. All equipped with sealed juvenile records mostly for fighting, theft, and a few minor violent offenses, but as soon as they were adopted by Aeron Valdis none of them got so much as detention or skipped school. A complete one-eighty.
Morana, on the other hand, has never been in trouble with the law, never gotten so much as a parking ticket. For a mob princess that’s shocking, to say the least. Even her father and brother, Hades, had minor offenses on record.
She got straight A’s in mostly advanced placement and honors classes in high school. She even graduated as the rightful Valedictorian but refused to give the speech, and at eighteen her IQ test came back scoring at one hundred and sixty-five points.
That’s genius-level and rare. It’s the only thing that leads me to believe she could be capable of all they say she is. Someone that smart could do just about anything she set her mind to, which leads one to question, why that thing would be murder?
Watching her this last week has painted a different picture for us, one you can’t read in a file. She hasn’t once left the apartment alone, always accompanied by one of her adopted brothers. She’s got a thing with two of them, Hunter and Ranger, and they either don’t know or don’t care that they’re sharing her. I’m betting it’s the latter.
We’ve watched them go to breakfast and eat an unreal amount of French toast. They greet people on the street, and it seems everyone’s happy to offer a smile and a handshake.
They walk down the street outside their apartment and play the lava game from when we were kids. You know the one? Someone yells the floor is lava and everyone has to find a place to stand so they’re not touching the ground. Whoever lost bought breakfast that day.
As I watch I find myself wishing I could hang out with them. There’s something about whatever it is they have that makes you wish you were a part of it. Maybe there’s something in the water in this town. Everyone seems infatuated with the Valdis family, but why? What’s so special about them?
I never had a ton of friends growing up in my small town and I’m an only child. The only friends I’ve ever really had are my co-workers and they don’t count, considering I only trust Holt with my life.
You don’t get to count someone as a friend if you’re more confident they’ll stab you in the back while shaking your hand than invite you over for a barbecue.
The connection Morana, Ranger, Hunter, and Nash have is the kind that makes someone ache to have the same thing. If they really are the people this town claims they are, if they really are ‘The Reapers of Sanorah’, then I have no doubt it’s that unbreakable pull, that connection they have, that made them who they are.
It’s rare for partners to kill side by side for an extended period of time. Someone’s always the Alpha, and someone always ends up dead and replaced.
It’s obvious that Morana’s the Alpha in this group, not because she demands it, but because they adore her. They’d give their lives for her; they’d give their lives for each other, and I suspect she’d do the same for each of them. The longer we watch her, the more I feel that same pull.
A knock at my window pulls me out of my thoughts. When I look over, I see a small black-clad tor
so and two coffees. Holt and I roll down our windows. One coffee is thrust through my open window while another is handed to Holt.
“Agent Marks, it’s wonderful to see you again today. Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” Morana sing-songs as she leans in through my open window.
I guess we haven’t been as stealthy as we thought. Just another reason to suspect there’s more than meets the eye in Sanorah. A regular citizen wouldn’t have been able to pick out an FBI tail. We’re good at our jobs, it’s why we have them.
“Miss Valdis,” I say, and Nash Lee leans into Holt’s window.
“We thought you guys might want a coffee since you’re stuck in this car,” he says, smiling and winking at agent Holt who blushes like a little girl.
For fuck sake, she’s worse than me.
“We’re on our way to the hospital now,” Morana says as she lifts her shirt and taps on a particularly gruesome set of stitches. “Gotta get these suckers out, meet you guys there?”
I scrub my hand down my face and let out a deep breath, “How did you make us?”
“It’s a small town agent, and you guys always drive the same type of unmarked vehicle. Do you guys get a group rate or something?” she asks. “Anyways, no one in this town drives one of these unless they’re a cop, so you were pretty easy to pick out,” she says, tapping the hood of the black Crown Vic.
“Next time if you want to blend in get a black Toyota Camry. I don’t know why, but everyone here fucking drives one of those things,” Nash says, ever so helpful.
“Right, thanks for the tip,” I grumble.
“Anyways, come on, Nash, we have to get going if we’re going to make my appointment with Doctor Hottie,” she sing-songs as she stands up.
“Do you call him that just to drive Ranger and Hunter mad?” I hear him grumbling.
“Of course,” she tells him with a smile as they link arms and walk across the street.