Chapter 172

Jack

I groan and wake up.

It’s dark.

I try to sit up.

My abdomen hurts like hell.

"Sunshine?"

"Nolan?"

No response.

That’s weird.

Despite the pain in my abdomen, I stumble toward the bathroom and fumble with the switch until the light comes on. My eyes hurt from the sudden brightness. They focus.

I look at myself in the mirror.

My heart drops.

The bandage around my torso is seeping red. My body is full of scars—everywhere. Bullet wounds. Knife wounds. Scarred, jarred skin from burns I’d forgotten I had.

No.

No.

No.

No.

I stumble back into the room. I turn on the light.

This is my apartment.

Not the palace.

Not the bedroom I share with Ciel and Nolan. Not the room where Lanny’s crib sits in the corner.

This is the old place. The beach house? No. Smaller. Darker. A place I haven’t seen in years.

I look at the cigarette butts on the bedside table. Next to a gun. Next to a phone. Next to a bloody shirt on the floor.

No.

No.

No.

It can’t be.

Where’s Ciel?

Nolan?

My son?

My dear Lanny.

I fall to the ground and sob.

---

"Jack!"

"Wake up!"

I gasp.

Light floods my vision. Not the harsh bathroom light. Soft. Warm. Familiar.

Ciel’s face hovers above me. His hands are on my face, my chest, my shoulders. He’s shaking.

"Jack, can you hear me? Jack!"

I blink.

The ceiling is wrong. No—the ceiling is right. Palace. Our bedroom. The curtains. The lamp. The crib in the corner.

"Sunshine?" My voice cracks.

"You were screaming." His eyes are wet. "You were screaming and I couldn’t wake you up."

Nolan appears behind him. His face is pale, his jaw tight.

I immediately sit up and pull them both into a hug, needing to feel their body warmth, their presence. Are they real?

"I thought I lost you," I say in a broken voice. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

They relax in my hold.

"It’s okay. We’re here," Ciel says.

He releases his pheromones ,the soft, calming ones, not the sharp ones meant to attract. They wrap around me like a blanket, easing the frantic edge of my panic.

I breathe him in.Roses. Home.

Nolan’s hand presses against my back. Firm. Grounding.

"We’re not going anywhere," Nolan says.

I hold them tighter.

We stay like that for a long moment—tangled together on the bed, my face buried in Ciel’s hair, Nolan’s cheek pressed to my shoulder.

When I finally pull back, my eyes are dry, but my hands are still shaking.

I lie back on the bed. I realize the needle in my arm is bent now—it’s uncomfortable. I remove it.

"I need some water."

Nolan hands me a glass. But they both hover over me, concerned.

I hand Nolan the glass back.

"It was just a nightmare. Don’t worry about it."

I settle back into the pillows.

They don’t look convinced.

"I’m serious." I take Ciel’s hand and place mine on top.

They don’t look convinced, but thankfully, they don’t pry any further.

*

I’ve gone to work with stab wounds or broken bones before. I never thought the day would come when I’m treated like this over mere scratches on my palms and fingers.

And... I don’t hate it.

I’m babied.

For the shower, they showered me. I just stood there.

Obviously, I was going to take advantage of the situation.

It was nice—the teamwork they had. Bringing me to release.

They dressed me up.

Fed me.

I’m okay. I really am.

But... I could enjoy this treatment a bit longer.

"Dada!" Lanny says.

Clearly jealous of not being the sole center of attention.

I lean on my elbow. "It’s my turn to be babied, Lanny."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes."

Lanny stomps his foot. It’s about as intimidating as a kitten hissing.

"I was injured," I say.

Lanny crosses his arms. "Dada not injured."

"My hands." I hold up my bandaged palms. "See? Ouch."

Lanny squints at them. Then at me. Then back at them.

"Mama kiss better."

Ciel chokes. "Papa. Papa kiss better."

"Papa kiss better," Lanny repeats, then marches over to Ciel and presents my hands to him like evidence. "Kiss."

Ciel looks at me. I shrug.

He sighs, leans down, and presses a kiss to each of my bandaged palms.

Lanny nods, satisfied. "Better."

Then he climbs onto the bed and plants himself directly on my chest.

"My turn," he announces.

I look at Ciel. "He gets it from you."

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Nolan laughs outright.

And I lie there, with my son on my chest and my partners beside me, and I think—

This is what I was dreaming about in that apartment.

This is what I was afraid I’d lost.

This is everything.

My worst fear is waking up to realize none of this was real.

I don’t get to dwell in those emotions before Lanny smacks the shit out of me.

"Ow."

Ciel grabs him immediately. "No, Lanny. We don’t hit people."

"Papa." He says it so earnestly. Papa. Not Mama anymore. He finally got it right.

"I’m serious. We don’t hit." Ciel’s voice is firm. His face is serious.

Lanny’s lip wobbles. His eyes fill with tears.

No. My baby.

I want to intervene. I open my mouth—

Ciel’s cold glare hits me like a wall.

I shut up. Look away.

I’m sorry, Lanny. Your papa is just too scary.

Lanny sniffles. Ciel holds firm.

"We don’t hit," he repeats, softer now. "We use our words. Can you say sorry to Dada?"

Lanny looks at me. His eyes are huge, wet, devastating.

"Sorry, Dada," he whispers.

I melt.

"Thank you, buddy." I open my arms. He climbs into them immediately, burying his face in my chest.

Ciel sighs. Runs a hand through his hair.

"I’m not scary," he mutters.

Nolan and I exchange a glance.

"You’re terrifying," Nolan says.

"I’m parenting."

"Same thing."

Ciel throws a pillow at him. Nolan catches it, grinning.

Lanny peeks up at me. "Papa scary?"

"Very scary," I whisper. "That’s why we listen to him."

Lanny nods solemnly. "Okay."

Ciel glares at me. I smile innocently.