Once her diaper was changed, I lifted her into my arms, leaving her little hospital blanket on the bed. I still couldn’t believe how tiny she was, especially when the added bulk of the blanket was gone. She was so light, and she naturally curled into a ball, making her seem even smaller.
“Oh, come on,” I chuckled as I felt her fill the brand new diaper. “We’ve only got a couple of these left, dude.”
She stretched, arching her back, and I felt my chest get tight with a surge of protectiveness and love. That feeling still caught me by surprise every time it happened. I hadn’t expected it. When I’d first felt her start moving around in my belly, I’d tried to just ignore it. I’d went about my days, refusing to even acknowledge to myself that there was a tiny human taking up space in my body, growing and saying hello with little taps of her fists and elbows and feet and knees. It was safer that way. I thought it would make things easier.
It hadn’t.
“Okay, this one is going to piss you off,” I murmured, grabbing for the wipes.
I was right. The cold wipes meant an end to our quiet diaper changes, and by the time I was done and picked her back up, she was so loud that I was sure the people in the kitchen thought I was torturing her.
Popping one of the pacifiers in her mouth and bouncing from side to side, I calmed her down. Biting the inside of my cheek, I slowly let out a breath through my nose, trying to calm the anxiety and tension that thrummed under my skin. She was fine and I was fine.
But Liv wasn’t.
I cleared my throat and straightened my shoulders, trying to ignore the way Liv’s scream seemed to echo in my ears. The sound hadn’t been one of fury or surprise, it had been pure fear. I swallowed hard, trying to make myself think of literally anything else. She’d been so happy, practically floating out of the nursery when Cane had called her downstairs to help him with their sound system. I huffed out a frustrated breath. They’d wanted to listen to Christmas music. It was the only reason she’d been downstairs.
Maybe, if she hadn’t gone down there—no. I shook my head as if to clear it. No maybes. No what-ifs. I knew where that led, and it was nowhere good. Logically, I knew that if Liv would’ve been upstairs with us, all of us would have died. I wasn’t supposed to even be there tonight—but Liv was—and whoever killed her and Cane would have searched until they’d found her.
Sucking in a sharp breath and then blowing it out through my lips as if blowing out a birthday candle, I tucked my phone into the waistband of my yoga pants, grabbed the dirty diapers off the bed and ventured out of the room. I couldn’t just stand there in the silence with my thoughts, even if I felt weird walking through Mark’s house.
I didn’t belong with the people in the kitchen. I didn’t know them. Yet, they’d saved my life. I didn’t know if there had been anyone in the house by the time they’d arrived, I’d ask for the details later, but in the end, it didn’t really matter. They’d come for me. For us. It was a debt I’d never be able to repay.
My stomach churned with anxiety as I made my way down the hallway.
“Come on, man,” a guy’s voice said. “You know you were fucking out of it tonight.”
“Subpar work at best,” a different voice stated.
“Cut him some slack,” Ephraim said. At least I thought it was him. “Have you seen her? Jesus.”
“Watch it,” Mark barked.
Ephraim laughed.
“We get it,” the southern guy drawled. “There’s history. But you were about as useless as tits on a boar tonight.”
“Won’t happen again,” Mark said flatly.
“Hey,” the woman said in surprise as she came around the corner almost running into me. “Everything okay?”
“Peachy,” I muttered. “Just tossing these in the garbage.” I lifted up the dirty diapers.
“Go on in, they’re just giving Chief shit.” She gestured with her head toward the kitchen. “I’m Lu, by the way.”
“Cecilia,” I replied.
“They’re a rowdy bunch, but they’re all softies. Don’t let them intimidate you.”
I laughed. “They don’t scare me.”
Lu smiled before sliding past me. She strode down the hall like she knew exactly where she was going, and I felt a small twinge of something. Jealousy? Sadness? I couldn’t decide, but whatever it was needed to disappear.
“Hey,” I said as I rounded the corner.
Ephraim, Josiah, Mark and the southern guy were sitting around the table, beers in hand. A man I didn’t recognize was sitting on the island between the cooking area and the table. Another unfamiliar man was sitting on a bar stool, pointed toward the table with his elbows on the island.