Page 60 of The Hitman's Omega Priest
Bishop still wasn’t so sure of that. Allowing Kensley to be stolen off the island felt like a huge personal failure to Bishop, despite Kensley’s (and King’s) reassurances that he couldn’t have prevented the ambush. Bishop was lucky to be alive, period. He was also still alive for a reason, so Bishop would do his best to protect his loved ones, love his charus, and rain justice down hard on everyone who had and ever would try to hurt them.
Period.
SIXTEEN
The water pressurein the lodge wasn’t as good as on the island, but Kensley imagined he wasn’t the only freed captive needing to scrub his skin free of that awful brothel. Even though Kensley had escaped the worst of the abuse, he still allowed the hot water to sluice over his skin, until the steam left him falling asleep on his feet.
Bishop was there, though, attentive as always, and he helped Kensley dry off. Wrapped Kensley up in a towel and carried him to their bed. They curled up together beneath thick, warm blankets, and Kensley slept peacefully, in his lover’s arms for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. He didn’t dream, and he woke to Bishop dropping gentle kisses along the back of his neck.
Kensley rolled over and climbed right on top of Bishop’s big, broad, gloriously naked body, and kissed the man his soul had chosen. The father of his child. The owner of his heart. His erection swelled and his hole slicked, and they made love quietly beneath the sheets, moving together like they had all the time in the world. Kensley savored the heavy slide of Bishop’s cock in his body, a claiming and a promise, and a source of absolute pleasure.
Bishop came first, filling Kensley with his gift, before sucking Kensley down and devouring his come in return. They showered again, before joining the group downstairs for breakfast. Kensley’s stomach rolled a bit at the sight and smell of bacon, but he managed a pancake with a small pat of butter. King briefly appeared to collect food, and this time, he left the kitchen with two plates.
After the meal, Kensley found Malori in an upstairs bedroom. He sat upright, his left shoulder bandaged, arm immobilized, and the sight of King sitting beside him, holding a forked piece of pancake for Malori to eat, sent a jolt of joy and surprise through Kensley’s middle. Malori tossed him a bashful, exhausted lip-twist that wasn’t quite a smile, while King focused on the plate.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Kensley said, leaning down to press a kiss to Malori’s temple. “I’d hug you, but I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yesterday, I would have preferred dying in that apartment,” Malori replied softly. “I couldn’t see a future beyond those walls and that pain. Now, I think maybe…maybe I can smile again. One day.”
“I know you will. And I hope that when you do, I’m there to see it.”
“You promised me your brother would save us, and you were right. I owe you both.”
“You owe nothing,” King said gruffly. “The people who put you there? The people who abused you? They owe you a great debt, and wewillextract it from them.”
Malori’s eyes watered, and he silently accepted another bite of pancake. Kensley excused himself. Bishop hadn’t expressly said it, but based on the interaction Kensley had just witnessed, he knew Malori was coming wherever Kensley and King were headed. King was enchanted with Malori in a way Kensleyhad never seen before—not that he knew anything about his brother’s sex or social life. But he did trust his instincts.
King had promised to avenge Malori’s pain, and King wasn’t going to pass that task off to one of his people. King was taking on that job personally.
No one was allowed to leave the lodge for safety reasons, so Kensley and the others passed the morning much as they had last evening—playing games in the dining room and main lobby, which had an enormous fireplace, multiple couches, and a plethora of board games. The only thing they lacked was a television, but Kensley imagined that if tourists were paying for the lodge experience, they weren’t here to watch TV.
He had a brief, private meeting with Dr. Melish about his pregnancy, making future plans to do an official blood test, and then to get Kensley started on prenatal vitamins, once he arrived at his final destination.
After lunch, Kensley said tearful goodbyes to everyone he’d befriended, at once grateful they were leaving to begin new lives, and also sad to lose those connections so soon. King promised that they were in good hands with Hartford, and that one day, they’d all be allowed to contact each other again—if they chose to. But after a lifetime of losing his friends or having only surface relationships in the abbey, the separation still left Kensley in tears.
Tears Bishop gently wiped away in the privacy of their room. Kensley was still nauseated and not in the mood for sex, so they held each other until Garvey knocked. Said it was time for the last of them to leave the lodge. Garvey drove a new van, this one with tinted windows and, like yesterday, Bishop and Kensley sat together in the middle bench seat, while King and Malori rode in the back. Malori was awake, aware, and wound so tight Kensley worried for his physical and mental health.
An hour into the drive, King finally announced they were heading back to River City and his penthouse. “It’s large enough that we could not see each other for days at a time, if you wish,” King said, more to Malori than anyone else. “We’ll be safe there while we continue ferreting out Marta’s group, and whoever else was providing Decker with his victims.”
“And my children?” Malori asked, the only three words he’d spoken since the lodge.
“We won’t stop until we find them. You have my word.”
Malori nodded, and then turned his attention to the window and the landscape whizzing past.
Kensley pressed both hands over his lower belly, at once sad for Malori’s losses and ecstatic for his own joy. He would never rub his pregnancy in Malori’s face, though, not ever. He’d quietly tell King at some point. After that? He would play things by ear. New chapters in Kensley’s life had been unfolding since the day “Drew Burton” walked into his cathedral and they spoke in front of the bulletin board.
But this chapter? A chapter led by his charus and their future child? This was a chapter Kensley couldn’t wait to experience. Its highs, its lows, and everything in between.
Kensley had a vague idea of what a penthouse was from movies he’d watched in his pre-Order years, and from the occasional news or magazine article he’d read about the super-wealthy. He understood they were large, opulent apartments, usually on the top floors of very tall buildings, and sometimes they had pools, hot tubs and gardens, even!
His imagination did not do justice to the size or opulence of King’s penthouse. It took up the top two floors (two!) of a verytall, very secure building, and the roof had not only a large patio with dozens of plants, it also had a greenhouse, a small fountain, and multiple seating areas. Both floors had long balconies with multiple entrances from both bedrooms and common rooms, full kitchens, multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, plus an exercise room, and even a small, cozy library.
Kensley had to pinch himself multiple times during Bishop’s tour, because no way was this his home for the next unknown number of months (years?). Except itwashis home. Their home. The penthouse even had wings, and his new home with Bishop was the upper south wing, which was like its own mini-apartment: a bedroom, living space, private bathroom, a kitchenette, and its own balcony entrance. It was quiet, private, and Bishop insisted the windows were all bullet-proof, the glass shatter-proof, and the security system as state-of-the-art as possible.
King spared no expense in his home.
Bishop produced a familiar duffel bag from the bedroom and handed it to Kensley with a shy smile on his face. “Here.”
