NASH

NASH

I had no contact details for Viktor, and the number I had for Jakov was dead.

The Ducati was too hot to store at the compound. We stashed it in a safe lock up and followed the others to Embry and Mateo's house, where we'd collectively spent every night since the elders had done a bunk. It wasn't as easy to defend as Orla's flat, but it was out in the open, surrounded by families, school teachers and their Ring doorbells, and the safest place I could think of for us all to get some rest.

Not that most of us did much sleeping.

Orls and Juana stuck together and took over upstairs with the kids. Mateo and River did their best impressions of Saint and loitered outside. Only Locke and Embry knocked out, while I found myself with Rubi, seeking comfort in my best friend and hoping he found some in me while Saint's cat stared at us from an empty bookcase.

The hours passed, the burner phone Cam had left me taking up space on the coffee table, silent and still among the detritus of the dinner Orla had cooked, my woman steadfast and strong in the eye of a crisis we'd never faced before.

Cam.

Saint.

Alexei .

However fucked up things had been for us, I'd never contemplated a permanent reality without them. Any of them, even Alexei.

Even Saint when he'd been so badly hurt it was a miracle he'd survived.

Even Cam when he'd hurled himself into the path of a lorry with me.

They're not dead .

I clung onto that, but the truth was, I wasn't fucking sure. How could I be when I had no fucking clue where they'd gone or why?

It burned that I didn't know. That Cam had iced me out the second I'd told him Orla was pregnant. I understood it—I was grateful . But in moments like these, the long nights when I had nothing to do but think , it fucking hurt.

"You're not used to not knowing." Rubi nudged me with his foot. "Wish I could tell you it gets easier, but it doesn't."

I let my gaze drift to where he slumped on the couch, playing pillow to Embry as he slept beside him. "You choose not to know. This is different."

"Yeah, but it's the same."

I lacked the enthusiasm to puzzle that out, and let my thoughts meander again. The Elders. Man, I loved them, and like Embry, I couldn't shake the feeling that discovering Viktor's long-abandoned Ducati on Joe's land was a sign from God profound enough to make my catholic ink itch. But all that shit was hard to concentrate on when my lover had folded his extra-long body into an armchair across the room to take a nap, and my pregnant woman was asleep upstairs.

Rubi was still talking.

I got up and left the room, jogging upstairs as silently as my aching leg would allow.

The girls had holed up in the spare bedroom that Mateo had put together for this reason. We'd coined it the sleepover room, or the queen cave, depending on what mood Rubi was in. Set it up with a big bed and futon that slept two extra kiddos. A giant TV and an ensuite bathroom with a clawfoot tub. Anything to distract the kids from the fact that their lives got turned upside down on a regular basis.

Would this happen to my kids? Would they sleep here too while we waited for the world to end?

I didn't like the possibility that they might, but thinking about it took me back to an almost-forgotten drunkedy-drunk conversation I'd had with Cam over Christmas. The context was long gone, along with any words either of us had actually uttered, but I remembered stumbling away from it with a sense that whatever apocalypse came for us next, it would be the last.

And maybe this was it.

Which meant The Elders had gone, and they'd done it on purpose so the rest of us would survive.

I eased open the door to the spare room. Not much had changed since I'd last stuck my head in. Orla was asleep, curled up on her side, her arm around her swollen belly—her huge belly. How none of The Knowers had noticed she was twice the size she should've been at this point in her pregnancy, I had no fucking clue, But then maybe they'd had other shit on their minds.

"Nash?" Juana's whisper reached me from the bed, when she was keeping watch over everyone, as tough and unflinching as any soldier. "Come here."

She beckoned me over, grasping my wrists and pressing my hands to Orla's stomach. "He's been kicking all night."

"He?" I felt the by now familiar wonder of the fluttery thumps and bumps inside Orla and my heart…fucking hell. I didn't know how I'd survive it. "You know something I don't?"

"Feels like a boy. Either that or your daughter has four feet."

More secret, terrified joy surged inside me. "Wouldn't that be something?"

Juana laughed.

I stayed put a minute longer, then I slipped away again, knowing I'd be back before an hour passed, or Locke woke up to take over the hovering that drove Orls mad when she was awake.

Downstairs, Rubi had wriggled out from under Embry and made tea. "No coffee." He gave it to me straight. "You've had enough for the next century."

I didn't mind tea. I drank it more now I was mostly off the smokes, the change enough to help me stick at it. Though I'd fucked up a few days ago, and honestly, it haunted me as much as everything else.

"Made you a sandwich and all."

Rubi thrust a plate at me.

I pushed it back. "We just ate."

"That was eight hours ago."

"Was it fuck."

"Check the time, Nashticles."

I didn't bother. It was a sworn fact that Rubi was right as often as I was wrong, and knackered as I was, I was okay with that.

Yawning, I ate half the sandwich, saving the rest for Locke.

As if he'd dreamed my intentions, Locke woke up, gaze darting around before he was truly awake, subconsciously scanning his surroundings before he settled on me. "All right?"

He reached for his phone as he spoke, checking on his kids, another wave of autopilot.

"Nothing's changed," Rubi told him. "Tea's up, though."

Locke accepted the mug from Rubi and the plate I set beside him, blinking away sleep as he squinted at his phone.

"Everyone okay?"

"Think so." Locke scrubbed a hand down his face. Then he rose suddenly, ditching his tea, and disappeared up the stairs with the same energy I had half an hour ago.

Rubi clutched his heart. "You two are so cute."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

A phone buzzed.

We both jumped, but it was Locke's, Willow's smiley face lighting up the screen. I saw Folk's name and swiped it, scanning the bright and breezy message on the screen.

Willow : Is Folk going swimming today? I want to go too. Should I text him? Will he be up yet? xxxx

I winced. Along with keeping The Elder's disappearance from Decoy and Folk until they got back from celebrating Iggy Whitlock's sixtieth birthday, we'd had to sell Willow the same lie we'd fed Liliana. Which meant she thought they were on holiday, like regular people, a bucket of bullshit Folk would see through in a heartbeat if it reached his ears before he came home.

Locke came back as me and Rubes were scowling at his phone. "Fuckin' hell."

"I know, brother." Rubi gave him a side hug. "I'm really fucking sorry you have to lie to her."

"Not your fault."

Locke tapped out a response.

Dad: folk's away. it's his dad's birthday. don't bother him. i'll ask when he gets back xx

"Ask her about the song she had to write for her coursework."

Locke blinked at me. "What song?"

"The one with the banjo and pipes; she had to compose something for a spiritual gathering."

Mystified, Locke tapped more words into his phone, and the distraction worked, messages pinging though one after the other. Sound files. Videos.

I passed him an AirPod, singular, knowing his busted ear couldn't handle two. He settled in to listen and I went back to the couch with Rubi.

He dropped his head on my shoulder. "Daddy Nash."

That fear squeezed my heart again. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"You'll jinx it."

Rubi sighed. "Orla's not going to miscarry. She's past that point now."

"Other things can go wrong." More things than I could comprehend. "She's having a C-section. That's major fucking surgery."

"That the doctors perform eleventy times a day. Doctors that want your baby and their mamma to come out of it fighting fit. Everyone's on your side, Nashie. Even fate."

He'd said that before. So had Locke. So had Orla . But I was still scared to death of losing them—the babies, my woman.

The Elders.

A shaky exhale escaped me.

Rubi sat up. "All right. I'll stop saying it until your miracle dragon lands earth side, but for what it's worth, you're already an amazing fucking dad."

"To who?"

"To Willow." Locke glanced up from his phone. "To Nicky. Babe, it takes a village, and you're a bigger part of that than you'll ever fuckin' know."

Locke was the oldest man in the room, but time stood no chance against the love that blazed in his eyes, that sea-green as hypnotising to me as it had been that long-ago frosty morning when I'd finally found a way to truly see him.

"I love you."

His smile deepened. "I love you."

Mateo drifted inside as the words settled. He brought River with him and I got up so he could sit with Rubi. Or, you know, on him, as Rubi dragged him down.

River cursed.

The commotion woke Embry up, kinda. It took a minute and I let Mats ease him awake, finding my place with Locke at the armchair by the window.

My tea had cooled and lost its appeal, but Locke never would. I perched on the arm of the chair and took his free hand, losing myself in the easy affection that was so different to what I shared with Rubi. My best friend had been my safe place for as long as I could remember. Then Locke had come along and shown me that I could find comfort in a man I wanted to bang my fucking brains out, and the loose bolts rattling around my soul had finally found their home.

But as Locke absently kissed my knuckles and skimmed his thumb over my pulse point, our missing brothers claimed my wandering thoughts again. "You think it was deliberate?"

He gave me his full attention. "What are you talking about?"

"The timing. With Folk gone. It feels that way…like, whatever they're doing right now, they knew he'd figure it out."

Locke opened his mouth to give me the answer. Or maybe even just to tell me he loved me again.

But another buzzing phone pierced the air.

Louder this time.

Closer.

Persistent.

The burner.

It lit up, surging to life, and for the first time in days, so did I.