Camden (The Henchmen MC 18)

I could afford better. I could even throw some money into the place to update it. But I had lived in worse places in my time. Much worse. So none of the little everyday annoyances bothered me enough to do anything about it. Despite Liv's weekly drop-ins telling me that I didn't have to live like this.

She'd been the one to buy and have furniture delivered when, after more than a month of living there, all I had gone out of my way to get was a headboard-free bed, a recliner, and a TV. If it weren't for her, there would be no small sectional in my living room - a deep brown material that matched the recliner I'd bought - no cabinet under my TV, nightstands, lamps, a two-seater dining table, window treatments, or a couple rugs. If it weren't for Astrid, the walls would be bare. And while I couldn't claim to share her interest in chickens, I didn't exactly hate the black and white dramatic canvas she had made up for me of her silkie chickens. In a way, it felt like there was still a small piece of her around by having it there to look at.

After years of living with them, I had found it surprisingly hard to let them go. Even though I knew they had moved on to better things, and started to build bigger lives.

Maybe a part of me missed what we'd all had together - a makeshift family of misfits who didn't have anyone else but one another. Maybe I missed having them around, having all those years of history to allow me to feel completely comfortable around them, to be understood without having to work at it at all.

I'd never really had anyone steady in my life until Liv showed up, until she needed me, until she decided to keep me around, then keep Astrid around as well. They became good friends, then something like sisters to me after a while.

Just as suddenly as they came flitting into my life, they both went off on their own.

I had to give it time, I knew.

To really connect with my fellow brothers.

It took a long time with Liv and Astrid as well. The lack of communication thing just made it all move at a glacial pace. Some of the guys caught on faster than others, communicating with me via text; Reign, Cash, Laz, Reeve, Roderick, Roan. They just made that effort without making a big deal about it. As such, I felt closer to them than some of the others.

Though, to be fair, many of the others were just wrapped up in their wives and their kids and their general life shit. Reign's kids were all but grown; Cash's adopted daughter was as well but they had a different dynamic because of what she had been through which gave him more free time; Reeve only had the one kid; Laz was just the type who was likely to put extra effort in when he saw a need for it; Roan didn't have kids, so when he wasn't busy with Mack, he found the time to connect with me. And Roderick, well, Liv had likely nudged him in the texting direction since that was how we connected most of the time anymore, too.

It would happen with the others eventually as their lives calmed down a bit.

Until then, I was happy to have a little time to myself, to not have eyes feel like they were watching me, trying to figure me out. There was a certain comfort in solitude it was hard to find in company.

It was also a substantial fucking weight off to know Liv and Astrid were, for all intents and purposes, retired from arms trading. No more worrying myself to ulcers about their safety, about how to try to protect them single-handedly. There was protection in numbers, in old connections like Reign had gotten for himself ages ago. No more uncertainty. No more suicide missions we'd tempted fate by going out on time and time again.

This was stable.

As stable as the arms trade could be anyway.

There were always risks.

But there was less to lose here.

I don't remember a time in my life where I wasn't literally on the verge of losing my life. For a myriad of reasons. All I could recall from later elementary school and up was survival. Sometimes by the skin of my teeth.

It was hard for someone whose entire life was a tightrope walk between perfect health and almost dying to accept calm, comfortable, easy.

But that was what this life was for me.

Comparatively speaking.

Any Average Joe would think dropping off a shipment of guns to a notoriously mercurial group of Russian mob guys was, well, a bit dangerous.

But for me, for us, that was just any other Tuesday.