Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(17)

“You love better than any man I know,” Vee said, letting out a breathless sigh. “If my sexuality was a choice, I would have chosen you a million times over. Don’t think you’re like him. You are nothing like any of the men in our families. You have honor. Billie knows that.”

She was stabbing at wounds, and I needed her to stop. “Billie is not our concern right now,” I said shortly, straightening out my leg when it began to ache from remaining in the same position for too long. “Our concern is this brewing mafia war and how the fuck we deal with it without becoming collateral damage.”

Vee placed her hand on my right bicep and squeezed tightly. She kept her hand on me as she said, “It’s Christmas. The family can wait for tomorrow; God knows it’s not going anywhere.”

That was the problem. The families we were born into was a life. It was a forever life, and there was no fucking out. “You’re right. Tell me what’s happened since we ended up in the hospital.”

Vee quickly launched into the timeline of events, from her release and Grayson offering his place as a safehouse—I owed him for that, among other things—to Billie being kept involuntarily in the hospital to deal with her flashbacks. “She got out last night after her therapy session,” she continued, “and it is so nice to have everyone here, together and alive.”

Nice was debatable. I could do with less Bellerose and more Billie, but that was probably still the fucked-up brain injury talking, as it gave me a front row seat to my teenage trauma. Jace hadn’t mentioned that he’d had Billie semi-committed, and I wondered if that was because he felt guilt over it or because he didn’t want us to fight again so quickly. Either way, that was a conversation we’d need to have one day soon.

“You and Jace seem good now,” Vee said suddenly, her voice low enough that no one else heard. “Did something happen?”

Not something. Everything. “He risked his life to save mine,” I said. “When I woke in the hospital and he was at my bedside, I was so goddamn confused. My mind was back when we were eighteen and I was with Billie and Jace was gone, so to see him sitting there…”

I hadn’t really known what to think, and it had only added to my confusion.

“But then he set me straight, and we talked about all the shit that went wrong between us eight— well, shit, nearly nine years ago now, and I think maybe we’re ready to let the past go.”

At least most of it, since there was no way either of us could truly let Billie go. Not even if we wanted to. We’d both tried and failed, and it was time to learn from that. She was a part of us, and not even nine years apart had changed that.

“We should write a song now,” Rhett declared loudly, holding his bottle of whiskey in the air like a salute. “Come on, it’s Christmas day, and we already have multiple miracles. Jace and Billie haven’t killed each other, Angelo woke from his coma, and none of us have had an attempt on our lives today. Let’s celebrate. It’s the perfect time to write our next hit.”

Grayson, Jace, and Billie yelled their agreement, and it was clear that they were all much further along in their festive drinking than Vee and me. Maybe some alcohol would help with the mental anguish that was apparently wrapped around me, refusing to let go. Fuck the rules around alcohol and painkillers.

Reaching for the cane, I started to get to my feet, but before I could, Billie had jumped up from her spot on the couch and was rushing in to slip under my right side. “Get his left, Vee,” she said sweetly. “Let’s get him more comfortable.”

More comfortable. That brought up some thoughts that were better left for another time. Comfortable with Billie used to be naked afternoons in bed eating, fucking, and watching movies. These suppressed memories had chosen the worst moment to burst into my head and refuse to leave.

Fuck. I’d locked them down once, and I could do it again.

“I’ve got this,” I said shortly when I was up, shaking off the two women. “Just wanted a drink.”

“All you had to do was ask,” Jace said, appearing before me, a glass of whiskey in his hand. I knew before I even took it that it’d be Yamazaki 21, my favorite whiskey. Drinking on medication was definitely against my doctor’s orders, but since when did I follow the rules?

“Thanks,” I said softly. “It’s the day for a drink.”

“Or five,” Grayson agreed, moving closer as well.

Rhett let out another cheer. “We do need to celebrate. I know that Flo isn’t with us now, and we haven’t mourned her yet. But Christmas is for celebration, and I’m going to count all of my blessings today.”

There was this brief moment of silence, and fuck if we didn’t all bond like teenage girls at a damn sleepover. Upending the glass, I swallowed the shot straight down, and already Jace had the bottle ready for number two.

“Keep them coming,” I told him before I dropped back into the couch I’d been trying to get up from. Billie didn’t attempt to touch me again, but I felt her eyes burning into the side of my face. The need to look her way was so strong that I almost caved into her pull.

I managed to ice her out until she said, “Will you play bass for them while they’re putting music together?” Her voice was tentative. Hopeful. “It might help… seeing as Flo is gone.”