Page 95 of Call It What You Want
“You guys look so domestic. It’s disgusting,” Lux teases, setting the cups on the counter.
Roman smirks, dragging Lux closer. “Careful. Keep talking like that and baby-making goes straight to the top of my to-do list.”
Lux elbows him in the ribs, and he grins wider. Jameson starts clapping, delighted by the new arrivals. Jackson gives Roman a mock glare.
“You’re corrupting my son,” Jackson says.
“The kid’s gotta learn eventually, and Uncle Roman is here to teach him all our wicked ways.”
Jackson
The chaos of the kitchen lingers in my chest long after the laughter dies down. Jameson’s sticky hands, the sunlight on the countertops, the way Ava looks at me. I try to hold onto it, like it can shield me from everything else. But I know it can’t. There are still ghosts waiting, questions that won’t go away...
I show up at Mom’s place the next morning, early. The living room feels smaller somehow, everything frozen in place like a snapshot from years ago. I sit across from her, hands restless in my lap.
And then I just...unload. Everything. Dad’s connection to Senator Davis’s death, the Burning Crown’s involvement, Jameson’s existence, Ember missing…all of it. First, she’s stone-faced, lips pressed together tightly, like she’s holding it together by a thread.
Then something shifts. It’s like watching a dam about to burst.
The tears come first, then her voice breaks—part rage, part grief. She’s shouting one moment, begging the next. Years of fear and pain just explode out of her, raw and unfiltered. I sit there and take it, watching her fall apart in a way she never has before.
When she finally runs out of words, there’s something different in her eyes. Not the fight I’m used to seeing. Just...surrender. Like, a quiet acceptance.
“I’ll go to Lockly,” she says, and those five words feel bigger than anything we’ve ever said to each other.
I pull her into a hug. “I’ve got you, Mom,” I whisper.
For the first time in forever, it feels like hope.
By the time I make it back to Rush House, the emotional hurricane has subsided. When I walk in, there’s some kind of plan brewing between Eve and Wyn. Something to do with the rift between Christian and Lucas. Apparently, their girls are done waiting for their monstrous pride to wear off.
“If I’ve forgiven Lucas, then I feel like Christian should, too. But he still refuses to go anywhere near his brother,” Eve says, arms crossed. She shrugs. “So we’ll give him a reason.”
“A heart attack,” Wyn adds.
“Come again?” I say, because I’ve clearly misheard her.
“Not literally,” Eve says. “Just…a scare. I told Christian that Lucas collapsed in the basement gym and refuses to go to the hospital. He’s on his way now.”
“Oh, my God. Seriously?” Ava says with a laugh. “You guys are too much.”
Wyn shrugs. “Desperate times.”
Roman and Lux drift in, looking like they’ve just remembered there’s a world outside their own private universe. Lux’s lip gloss is smudged, Roman’s collar slightly crooked. No question what they’ve been doing.
“What the hell did we miss?” Roman asks, dragging a hand through his messy hair.
“Fake heart attack,” Wyn answers without blinking.
Roman nods once. “Cool.” Then, the words sink in, and his expression turns to confusion. “Wait, what?”
Before anyone can explain, Christian storms in through the back door, wild-eyed, shouting his brother’s name. “What happened? Where’s my stubborn cunt brother?”
He doesn’t even wait for us to respond. He opens the basement door and flies down the stairs. We all follow.
Lucas, perfectly healthy and mid-rep, sits up when he hears us coming down the stairs in a stampede. He wipes sweat from his forehead with a towel. “What the fuck is going on?”
Christian freezes, a whole-ass emotional journey flicking across his face in a split second—shock, disbelief, rage, then finally, relief. He rakes a hand down his face, then levels a glare at his brother.
