Page 156 of 12 Months of Mayhem

Rex’s warm hand envelops mine, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my skin. “Welcome home party,” he says simply, his dark eyes holding mine. “You’ve been through hell, Rem. We all have. Figured it was time for something good.”

My throat tightens with emotion. I want to protest, to say I’m too tired, that it’s too much. But the love in Rex’s gaze silences me.

“Mama!” Birdie squeals from the backseat, already fumbling with her seatbelt. “Can we go see everyone? Please?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Beaux chimes in, his earlier concern replaced by excitement. “Looks like the whole club’s here!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s do this.”

Rex is at my door in an instant, helping me out of the car with a gentleness that belies his imposing frame. As soon as my feet hit the driveway, we’re surrounded. My girls from the Voodoo City Queens engulf me in a group hug.

“Easy now, ladies,” Rex warns. “Let’s not smother her. She’s still on strict orders to rest.”

The group parts, and I find myself face to face with my mama. Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears as she pulls me into a fierce hug.

“Oh, baby girl,” she smiles. “We’ve been so worried.”

I melt into her embrace, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume mixed with the spices from her cooking. “I’m okay, Mama.”

She pulls back, holding me at arm’s length. “Hmm,” she hums, not entirely convinced. “Well, you will be. I’ve made enough food to feed an army, and you’re going to eat every bite. Rex’s got everything set up for you inside, and I’ll be here every day to help with the kids.”

As I’m about to respond to Mama, a familiar voice cuts through the noise. “Rex Reed! What in the world are you thinking, keeping that poor girl standing out here like a display mannequin? Get her inside this instant!”

I can’t help but chuckle as Miss Blanche’s graying head pops out of the front door, her eyes narrowing at Rex with the kind of authority that makes even the toughest bikers straighten up.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rex responds. His large hand settles on the small of my back, gently guiding me towards the house. “Come on, Rem. Let’s get you settled.”

Rex helps me up the porch steps, his touch gentle but firm. The familiar creak of our front door is a welcome sound, and as we step inside, the coolness of our air-conditioned home washes over me like a balm.

But it’s not the comfort of home that makes me stop dead in my tracks. There, lounging on our weathered leather couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table is a sight I never expected to see. My step-brother, Voodoo, or Bobo, as I’ve called him since we were kids, grins at me with a familiar cocky smile.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, standing up with an exaggerated stretch. “If it ain’t the prodigal sister, finally gracing us with her presence.”

For a moment, I’m frozen, overwhelmed by a tidal wave of emotions. I cross the room in three quick strides and throw my arms around him, burying my face in his chest.

The familiar scent of motor oil and leather envelops me, stirring up memories of late-night rides and shared secrets. Bobo’s arms wrap around me, strong and secure, and I feel the rumble of his chuckle against my cheek.

“Easy there, Rem. I hear you’re supposed to be taking it resting.”

I pull back, blinking away the tears that are forming in my eyes. “What are you doing here?” I manage to ask.

Bobo’s grin widens, “I was hungry, and I heard Ameline was making one hell of a feast.”

I can’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within me. It feels good like something long-dormant finally waking up. “Of course you’re here for the food,” I tease, punching his arm lightly. “Some things never change.”

Before Bobo can retort, Miss Blanche’s voice cuts through the air again, sharp as a whip. “Rex Reed! I swear on all that’s holy, if you don’t get that girl sitting down right this instant, I’ll tan your hide myself!”

Rex appears at my side, his massive frame somehow managing to look sheepish. “Yes, ma’am,” he calls over his shoulder, then turns to me with a mix of amusement and concern in his dark eyes. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you comfortable before Miss Blanche decides to make good on her threat.”

He guides me to our oversized recliner, the one we picked out together when we first moved in. It’s seen better days, with a few mysterious stains courtesy of the kids and a small tear in the arm that we keep meaning to fix. But as I sink into its worn leather embrace, it feels like coming home in a way the hospital never could.

Rex fusses over me, adjusting pillows and making sure I’m not straining anything. His hands, calloused and strong from years of working on bikes, are impossibly gentle as they brush my hair back from my face. “You good?” he asks.

“I’m good,” I assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand. “Really, Rex. You can stop hovering.”

He gives me a look that says he doesn’t quite believe me, but he nods anyway. “Alright. I’m gonna grab you some food. Don’t move.”

As Rex heads towards the kitchen, Bobo plops down on the arm of the recliner, his mass causing it to creak ominously. “So, little sister,” he says, “when were you going to tell me about the issues you’ve been having with your pregnancy?”

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