“It’s okay, darling, we are here,” I whisper to her, and she buries her head in my chest, twists her hands in my shirt, and cries.
I hold her through it, stroking her back and kissing her head, telling her we are here, that we love her, that I’m sorry. Her tears do funny things to my heart though, making it ache. They affect the others as well. Garrett mumbles about going to fight. Ryder seems helpless and stares at me in pain. Diesel growls and storms away, probably to kill someone.
But she doesn’t need that right now, she just needs to feel, so I let her, and when she finally lifts her head, I brush her tears away and press kisses to her face. “I love you, darling.”
“I love you too,” she whispers, her voice thick before lowering her head again.
That’s how she falls asleep in my arms, and I look to Ryder, who watches her with his face contorted in pain. “You knew what to do,” he murmurs lowly, so as not to wake her.
I nod, and he sighs, scrubbing his face. “I didn’t.”
“You don’t have to know how to do everything, she needs us all,” I whisper, and he nods and gets to his feet.
“I’m going to work. I’ll check in on her bar and everything. Let me know if she needs anything.” He walks away then, almost running.
These idiots. When faced with tears, they turn into scared little boys. I don’t tell her about the breaking stories and gossip spreading about us all. Everyone wants to know about the woman who tamed the Vipers. The picture of her between us at the funeral is being spread everywhere. Ryder put protections in place, of course, and keeps her identity a secret so they can’t dig up her past and hurt her.
But every eye is on us now. Everyone wants to be her.
But all we want is her.
Our Roxy.
“Kenzo?” she whispers, half asleep.
Shifting, I pull her closer. “Hey, darling.” She blinks her eyes open and looks up at me.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to cry all over you.” She sighs.
“Cry all over me anytime, Rox.” I grin. “It’s an excuse to keep you close.”
She snorts and rolls over, so I flip onto my side and hold her in my arms as she absentmindedly traces her finger across my chest. “I guess it brought it all back. I kept seeing Rich—” She hiccups, and I hold her tighter. “It’s easy sometimes to not think about it, to just keep busy so I don’t have to, but I couldn’t today—”
“That’s okay, darling, you’re allowed to miss him. You are allowed to hurt, you loved him,” I soothe, and then deciding now is the time, I pull the picture from my pocket and hand it over. “I thought this might be important, I took it the day we took you.”
She grabs the photo and stares down at it, tears filling her eyes again, even as she smiles. “He was a fucking hard man, so gruff and snappy, but God, I miss that. I miss his ‘hey, girl, get yo ass over here.’ He would pretend he didn’t care, but whenever I needed him, he was there. Never judging, just understanding.”
“He sounds like an amazing man. I wish I could have met him.”
She nods, brushing her hand over the photo. “Thank you for bringing it.”
“Always. Tell me more about him?” I request.
She sighs and looks at me. “He would have hated you guys, probably would have tried to kill you. I remember this one time I brought a guy back—”
I listen to story after story about the first man she ever loved, and I can’t help but fall more in love with her. She loves so deeply, cares so deeply, and I owe that man everything. Without him, I might have lost Roxy before I even knew her. For that, he has my respect and loyalty, and I will ensure he is never forgotten.
For her.
“I have an idea,” I tell her later on, when we’re just watching the sunset through the windows. I know she’s been thinking about starting a fund in his name, but maybe…just maybe… “Why don’t you name your new bars after him?”
She shuffles back further against me where we sit on the balcony. “You think Ryder would let me?”
“They are yours, darling, not his, name them whatever you want. It was just an idea,” I offer, wrapping her tighter in my arms.
“That’s a good idea. He would like that,” she whispers, and I press my face to her head.
“Kenzo?” she murmurs.
“Yeah, darling?”
“I still fucking hate you all, and I want my bat back,” she snaps.
I can’t help but laugh, and she joins in, and when we stand up and she pushes me into the pool, I come up sputtering but smiling. She’s going to be okay.
Roxxane is a fighter, but she will never have to do it alone again.
Chapter Sixty-Two
DIESEL
“What do you think?” Ryder asks, sweeping his hand out to encompass the house.
“It’s…homey.” I never pictured myself in a home like this, but now that we are starting our family properly, it makes sense. “The massive bed in her room is a nice touch.” I snort, flicking open my lighter and lighting a fag.
He smirks. “I figured you’d like that, almost as much as the basement.”
I perk up at that. “Basement?”
“Basement.” He nods. “To turn into yours and Roxy’s dungeon. Do whatever the fuck you want down there to each other, but work stays at the apartment building.”
“Fucking deal,” I murmur around the cigarette. “Goddamn, I can’t wait. Think of all the toys I could fill it with.”
The house itself is a fucking safe house. It’s massive, with barriers, fencing, and guards ready to patrol. It has an armoury, bullet proof windows, and escape tunnels. It’s a goddamn fortress, just what we need. It’s also black.
Like our fucking souls.
All black, the outside, and even most of the inside. Roxy will love it. I don’t even ask when Ryder had the time to start on this project. It’s clear he’s had this house renovated to his specifications, the sneaky bastard. But he’s right—our apartment is nice, but it’s not a home.
This is.
With Little Bird.
I can’t wait to show it to her and play in our new dungeon, I’ll have to get her a housewarming gift…whips are good for that right? I must say it out loud, because Ryder laughs and claps me on the shoulder.
“It’s a good job she loves you, D, because you are one crazy bastard.”
I blow smoke in his face for that. “Yup, but Little Bird wouldn’t have me any other way.”
“I’m thinking we could be in as soon as the end of the month. I’m going to need help, but with Roxy busy working on her bars, this should be easy enough to do. Garrett is already working with security specialists to secure it, and I’ve set up a home office so I can be around more.”
“What about Kenzo?” I inquire, trailing my hand across the black and gold marble kitchen counter.
“He’s aware. I wanted him to have the home he always wanted as well. This was the place he used to want when we were kids. He’s happy to work from home as much as he can, which is why the garage is so big—for his toys,” he informs me.