Page 104 of Their Property
I climbed off the bike and locked gazes with Grudge standing a few feet away. I couldn't read his expression and didn't know what he saw in mine, but we started toward each other and met in the middle in a tight, desperate hug.
“Grudge, I don't know what's going to happen. Hopefully nothing, but I want you to know,” I drew in a shaky breath and his arm tightened around my lower back, “I'm never letting you go. You're just as much mine as they are. Whatever you need from me, I will give you. Just name it.”
He drew away from me so slowly, brows drawn tight and mouth frowning as if it physically pained him to separate. His thumbs caressed my cheekbones, fingers skimming gently over my face. Then he cupped my face and pressed his lips to my forehead. My eyes closed while I just inhaled the scent of him—leather, ink, and paper.
When he stepped away, he signed a brief sentence. “I only need you.”
I wanted to cry and jump for joy at the same time. “I feel the same,” I answered. “You're perfect as you are.”
Grudge blinked, then his eyes widened as if he came to a sudden realization. He started to reach for me again when T-Bone said, “We should get this over with. Then we’ll celebrate like a happy quadruple later.”
“That's a stupid word,” Dyno muttered, heading for the city hall entrance.
T-Bone followed. “Yeah well, you got a better one? How about love-rectangle?”
“Ugh, that's even worse.”
Grudge's hand slid into mine, fingers interlacing as he tugged me after them. The warmth had returned to his dark eyes, and I swore even he was smiling.
“I suppose your president's right,” I said, the spark of hope glowing even brighter. The guys were relaxed and cracking jokes. If they weren't worried, why should I be?
Once inside the building, we didn’t have to go far. Across the long foyer, I saw a small crowd of soldiers, General Bray among them, moving quickly toward us. The general’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, regarding the Sons and I cautiously.
“It’s true, Governor,” he said, stepping aside. “She’s home.”
The soldiers spread out to reveal my father, Governor of Four Corners, Martin Vance, in the middle.
He looked exhausted and thin. When did the uprising happen, three or four days ago? He looked almost as bad as when I’d been held in Blakeworth for over a week.
“Kyrie.” He choked out my name with such immense relief, his posture sagging like he barely had the strength to stand upright. “My girl. Oh, my sweet daughter, you’re alive.”
“I’m okay, dad.” I came forward to accept his hug, smiling to reassure him. “I’ve been okay the whole time. I was never in danger.”
Dad clutched me to his chest tightly, his breaths fluttering my hair. I felt his hands lock together around my back and that made me stiffen, like he was already caging me again.
“Never again,” he murmured in my hairline. “It was a mistake to let you live in another territory. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
Fuck. That was exactly what I was afraid of.
I wrestled out of his hug to put some distance between us. There was still so much to say, and this already wasn’t looking good.
“Dad,” I said in my sweetest tone, still smiling at him. “Everything turned out okay. No one could have predicted the uprising, but the Sons did their job phenomenally and kept me safe.”
Still keeping a tight clutch on my arms, he looked past me to the Sons, as if noticing them for the first time. “That is wonderful to hear, darling. Thank you, gentlemen, for fulfilling your duties, as you always do. I know we’ve had our disagreements, but you have my deepest gratitude.”
None of the Sons spoke but gave him tight-lipped nods in response. My dad’s thanks sounded like empty lip service, and it soured my stomach. Even General Bray noticed, his head tilting curiously at the words.
“You will be paid handsomely for my daughter’s safe return and, of course, you may stay in Four Corners for as long as you like, as my esteemed guests,” dad went on. “Now that Kyrie is back, your services are no longer needed, so enjoy your free time—”
“Dad.” I cut him off sharply. “There’s more you need to know.”
He gave me a puzzled look, clearly displeased at his polite, agreeable daughter speaking out of turn. “What is it, dear?”
“Don’t you want to know where we’ve been? What we’ve been doing?” I almost got a sick, perverse pleasure from goading him like this. I was about to blow the top off his carefully curated image of me. His innocent, mild-mannered daughter was an illusion, and I was fucking sick of playing the part.
I thought I needed to steer this conversation carefully, to be mindful of my father’s sensibilities. But all that changed just now with that dismissive attitude towardmymen. Ordering them away like fucking servants? No. I wouldn’t give him the truth gently. I wanted to crash it over his head like the Sons had into my heart.
“Of course I do, dear. But you must be exhausted. Why don’t tell me all about it after you’ve had some sleep and—”
