much a cabin as a mansion made out of wood so that it can pretend to still be a humble abode. One of the rooms has windows for three of the walls, from floor to ceiling, giving an excellent view of the surrounding forest but also making me feel rather exposed. There’s a bowling alley and a movie theatre down in the basement, the hot tub’s big enough for all eight of us, and there are more bedrooms than I know what to do with.
“Now this is living,” Nix declares, flopping down onto the couch in one of the three living room areas. “See? I told you all that living off the grid isn’t so bad. I don’t know why you give me shit about my lifestyle choices.”
Remi immediately slips into the kitchen, murmuring that he’ll check out what food is in the cupboards—Beckett called his whiz of an assistant and arranged for groceries to be delivered from the nearest small town, which is about fifty miles away. I’m grateful he did. I’m starving, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I ate.
“You don’t live off the grid,” Sawyer says, translating for Knight with a grin. “We all know where you are.”
Nix flips them both off, then looks at me. His laughing features pull down into a frown, and he scrubs a hand through his ash-brown hair. “Why the long face, sugar? Come sit with me. It’ll help you warm up.”
I’m not particularly cold, and I’m about to tell him that. But then I realize that I’m hugging myself, my arms wrapped around my waist as if I am cold. With a little nod, I go over and sit with Nix, sinking into him. I scoot over a little, get myself comfortable, and then beckon Knight over. He comes and cuddles up on my other side.
Sawyer smiles at me, and it’s not one of the seductive, teasing smiles I’m used to from him. This one is warm. Open.
Real.
Holding on to two of my men, I feel better. Not that they’re my men, exactly—
No. No, that’s not right.
I’ve kept telling myself that, repeating over and over in my own head, reminding myself that this thing between us couldn’t possibly be lasting and real.
But that’s a lie.
They are mine. Or at least, that’s how they feel to me. I feel like they’re my men, and I don’t want to be away from them. Even now, I want to touch them all over, compulsively, to make sure that they’re really here and really okay. I’m almost terrified that if I let them out of my sight, they’ll disappear.
Those moments when I thought they were gone and it was my fault were the worst I’ve ever experienced. I still feel aching and sick inside, like residue from throwing up or getting punched in the gut. Not exactly pain, but an echo of it.
What if I lose them again?
What if they die for real?
Not just from getting into a battle, although that’s a possibility if Salinas and Anderson find us—but what if they’re redeemed?
And they will be, I think, curling up further into Nix and Knight, if they keep doing these good things and trying to protect humanity.
For the first time in my life, I realize that I’m feeling… selfish. I’m not sure that I want to save the Earth if it means I could lose the men I love.
Yep. Love. That is absolutely the right word. I’m in love. I realized it when I thought they were dead, and now that I know they’re not, I feel it in a way that seems to fill up my entire body.
Does it make me an idiot to have fallen in love with the personifications of the seven sins? Probably. But this is the first time I’ve really felt anything like this, other than a general, sort of distant love for humanity in general. This is so much more intense and personal.
I don’t want them to die. And I’m willing to let other things fall by the wayside to make that happen.
“We need a plan of attack,” Beck says from where he’s standing in the door frame. “We can’t stay here indefinitely. Only long enough to rest up and make a plan. Then we need to move again.”
“A-fuckin’-men.” Ford growls the words, prowling around the living room like a caged animal. “Like fuck I’m staying here. Waiting this shit out. We have to hit back. Best defense is a good offense. That Salinas fucker and some