Page 129 of Strays
“He’s already filing jury strategy. Told me to give you the news myself.” He pauses. Then, quieter: “Let yourself feel it, Kory. It’s okay to hope.”
I take another deep breath. Then finally, I mutter, “Yeah.”
I call Shane and Jay into the DEA’s break room to tell them. I want us to bealone, so they can feel what I’m feeling now without worrying about someone seeing their reaction.
When I say the words, it’s like we just won something. Jay closes his eyes for a second, and Shane lets out a breathless, “No fucking way,” punching the air.
Shane’s the first to move. He grabs my shoulder hard and knocks his forehead against mine. Jay steps in next, clapping my back so hard it rattles my ribs, then grips both our necks, mine and Shane’s, and leans in, pressing his forehead against ours.
Three foreheads pressed together. Three hands locked tight on each other’s shoulders. One breath shared.
Then Shane slaps Jay’s chest and mine like we just took a hill together. “Let’s fucking go.”
We laugh, then leave to go home early, eager to tell Jo everything.
Our celebration with her is way better, and it takes half the night. When we’re finally spent, naked, sweaty, and panting in the nest, she stands up and disappears into the closet. A minute later, she comes back holding four small, fancy white boxes, the kind lined with silk.
She hands one to each of us and keeps one for herself.
“I was waiting for the right moment to give you this,” she says, opening her own. Inside is a silver necklace with a round, flat pendant. “I have your bite marks to show the world we’re bonded, but you guys don’t have anything. I know is not traditional for our people to wear wedding rings like the humans do, but I wanted you to have something.”
She’s wrong. Our entire bodies are statements of our bond with her. Anyone who looks at us now can tell we’re mated; there’s no way an unmated pack reaches our size and bulk. But I understand what she means, and the fact that she wants us to have another symbol of our bond makes something warm swell in my chest.
I open my box carefully, and my brothers do the same beside me. Inside are necklaces identical to hers, with a lightweight long chain and a small, flat pendant.
Then I see the engraving. In delicate cursive, it reads: Whatever happens here, we remain.
My chest clenches.
Jay and Shane are holding theirs too, eyes wide. When they look at Jo, it’s like they’re seeing her for the first time again.
Her voice deepens. “It’s from a song I love. The words said exactly what I wanted to tell you — a reminder of my promise. Whatever happens, I’ll never leave you again. Ever.”
She takes a breath. “And it’s not just because I made that promise. It’s because I don’t want to spend a single day without you. If the trial takes you from me, I’ll wait for you, every second. I’ll never walk away from us. Every timeI’m not with you, I miss Kory’s voice. The way Shane hugs me so tight it’s hard to breathe. The way Jay always pulls me into his lap, no matter where we are.”
She smiles. “The way you all butcher vegetables when we cook, everything uneven and mismatched. How excited you get watching basketball. How you actually listen when I ramble about patients and hospital protocols, how sometimes you remember more about my cases than I do. The little conversations you have with each other. The weird way you move in sync.”
There’s a lump in my throat so thick it hurts. I swallow hard, trying to keep it down. Jay and Shane are so still, they could be carved from stone.
Jo looks at each of us, straight in the eye. “I love you. Every single one of you. You’re kind, gentle, responsible, trustworthy, mature. Each of you is everything I ever dreamed of in a partner. That’s why I fell for you so hard, so fast. The scent bond might’ve pulled me to you. But what made me love you, it was you. Not the bond. You.”
I wish I could speak. Wish I could tell her how much I love her back. How she’s the air I breathe. But I can’t; my throat won’t work.
Thankfully, Shane finds his voice and speaks for all of us. “I love you, Jo,” he says quietly. “Welove you. All of who you are.”
His eyes are wet, little tears clinging to his lashes. He leans forward and clasps the necklace around her neck. She mirrors him, fastening his around his throat. Then he presses one hand to the pendant on her chest, the other still resting on her neck, and pulls her into a kiss.
“Thank you for this,” he whispers against her mouth.
When they part, she leans towards me. She kisses me slowly, then drapes the chain around my neck. Then Jay’s.
Afterward, we curl up on the nest together, and I fall asleep with the pendant still pressed to my chest.
The next morning, we’re all groggy from lack of sleep, but happy as hell. And I feel it, deep: hope. And hope is fuel.
With the judge showing that he’s fair, and that we’ll get a real shot at the trial, I put all my focus on bringing Aranya to justice. Over the next few days, I decide to push things to the edge of the legal line. We start by calling the U.S. Attorney’s Office for New Jersey. We take turns, one call a day, rotating between the three of us. Every time, it’s the same response: he’s unavailable. No, you can’t schedule a meeting. No, we can’t take a message.
After a full week of that bullshit, we’re done waiting. So on Thursday, we take the afternoon and drive to Jersey. No calls, no notice. We show up at the office in person, ready to plead our case face-to-face. Since we’re not here in any official capacity, we leave our badges in the Bronco.
