Breaking the Beast (Seven Ways to Sin 5)

I kept in touch with the others, Étienne and the rest, by text. They wanted to visit Jacques in the hospital, but they had their hands full trying to find a new place to live, somewhere big enough for all seven of them. “As long as it’s not another castle,” Raphael texted me one night, along with a string of laughing emojis.

I missed them terribly, longed to hear each of their voices, feel their touch on my skin. Jacques and I had not yet told them what we had discussed, wanting to wait until we could all be together.

My heart raced when I considered each of the possibilities.

What if they were against our proposal?

It was one thing to share when there were no feelings involved, when the only thing on the line was no-strings-attached fun, but quite another when it was a matter of love.

I tried to give it as little thought as possible, to focus only on getting Jacques better, until he was strong enough to return home. Little by little, his old strength returned to him, until the doctors finally pronounced him fit enough to return home.

The new house, smaller than Villeneuve, but still larger than any home I had ever dared to dream of living in, was quite a bit closer to the city. We clasped hands in the back of the rented town car as we drew closer. “Are you all right?” I asked in a whisper. Jacques answered by squeezing my hand.

“Never better,” he said.

I smiled outwardly, but inside my heart pounded wildly. I hadn’t seen any of the men since that terrible day, when they had watched me ride away in an ambulance with their best friend. Did they blame me for inadvertently setting Luis on them? They had assured me that they didn’t, but until I saw it in their eyes, I couldn’t know for sure.

I helped Jacques out of the car as he grumbled that he was perfectly capable without my help. I smiled. He was still as stubborn as ever.

When I turned back to the house, I realized that the others had collected on the front steps. Bernard came forward, beaming. “Mon ami, it’s so good to see you,” he said. “Both of you.” He gathered us each into a tight embrace, which Jacques accepted a little awkwardly.

With that, each of the men rushed forward, eager to welcome us home.

“You’re looking well,” Étienne said to Jacques, who nodded.

“I still have a ways to go,” he said, “but I’m getting there.”

Vincent and Raphael collected our bags and led us inside, the others trailing behind eagerly. “I believe Isiah has prepared a lunch for us all,” Vincent said, “Unless the two of you would prefer to get some rest first?”

Jacques and I traded glances. “Lunch sounds great,” I said. “We have some things we want to talk to you all about.”

“Of course,” Vincent said smoothly. “The dining room is right this way.”

The new home was expertly decorated, but all the same, I wondered if Jacques grieved the loss of his expansive collection of antiques. Many of his pieces had been irreplaceable. I studied his face, but his expression remained pleasantly neutral.

“Was there anything salvageable, after the fire?” I asked carefully as we settled ourselves around the dining room table.

“A few things,” Bernard said, taking a sip of his water. “I can show you both what survived after lunch.”

Jacques nodded silently. I could feel the anxiety radiating off of him, and I reached over to place a comforting hand on his knee. I felt Étienne’s eyes linger for a moment on the contact.

For a few moments, we ate our lunch in silence, the clinking of spoons against our soup bowls the only sound in the room. Raphael coughed and shifted slightly in his seat, blushing and ducking his head when we all turned to look at him.

This was agony. Someone should say something. I should say something. But how do you casually drop to a group of men that you’re in love with all seven of them? Desperately, I glanced to Jacques for help. He squeezed my hand reassuringly and cleared his throat.

“I owe all of you an apology,” he said, when he had everyone’s attention. “Not just for my behavior the night Isabel left, for that was truly inexcusable, but for the last five years.” Bernard opened his mouth as if to protest, but Jacques held up his hand to silence him.

“You all have treated me with more patience and kindness than I deserve, and for that I am more grateful than I can say. I doubt I would have survived the last five years without you. But that doesn’t mean that I haven’t asked far too much of you over the years.” Jacques’ voice was thick with emotion.

“You all have given me more than I had any right to ask for, and you’ve received nothing in thanks for your many sacrifices.”