Chapter Twenty-Four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

EPILOGUE

Dav - 1 Day

I woke up early, wincing at the light streaming through Cinna’s windows thanks to some awfully placed cracks in her plastic blinds.

I stifled a grumble as I climbed out of bed, cursing her lumpy mattress as I ached in places I didn’t know could be sore.

Then again, some of that might have been from the whole going batshit crazy and bashing two guys’ skulls in thing.

The memories came back, and I tamped them down, not wanting those thoughts on my mind first thing in the morning.

It wasn’t that I regretted them. I didn’t. I would do it all again and more to save Cinna. I just didn’t want to focus on the dark shit when there was so much bright now.

Because while we hadn’t exactly made heartfelt declarations, Cinna and I had come to an agreement. We were doing this. To hell with the consequences.

Life-or-death situations, it seemed, really show you what’s fucking important in life.

Like whatever it was growing between us.

And waking up before Cinna, so I could make coffee that was halfway tolerable.

I made my way out to the common area, finding Joel out cold on the couch, his arm thrown over his face to block out the morning light coming through the open blinds.

Lip was on the floor using the couch’s back cushions as a bed. And, fuck, it struck me as I looked at him curled up tight in a ball like he was fighting off the cold of the streets, that this was likely the most comfortable bed he’d had in months. The safest sleep he’d had in longer.

I had a feeling that now that these kids were here, they were never going to leave. And as much as you would never look at Cinna and think she was the maternal sort, I thought they likely couldn’t ask for a better parental figure. She was loyal, fiercely protective, stable, and didn’t get too riled up about small shit.

“That doesn’t smell strong enough,” Cinna accused in a soft hush, even though Lip was used to sleeping on the noisy streets, and Joel had been sleeping over the sounds of his parents’ screaming matches for his whole life.

“I am looking forward to not having heartburn,” I told her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pulling her in at my side as we waited for it to finish dripping.

“I can’t let him go back on the street,” Cinna said, gaze on Lip.

“No, you can’t,” I agreed.

“And I can’t make him go back to his shitty parents either,” she said, glancing over at Joel who was grumbling in his sleep.

“No,” I agreed.

“But I don’t have enough room here for kids. I don’t have the disposition for motherhood.”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t need to be sung to sleep and have you kiss their bruised knees, love,” I reminded her. “They just need an adult looking out for them. Think you’re more than capable of that.”

“I know you didn’t want—“ she started, getting cut off by a knock at the door.

She winced, looking over at the boys, but they were still out cold.

“It’s Renzo,” the boss called through the door, making her break away from me, and rush to unlock the door.

Renzo moved inside, his thumb snagging Cinna’s chin, and turning it side to side to check out the damage, before glancing around.

His gaze went to Lip, then Joel, and finally me before landing back on Cinna.

“Seems like we got more to talk about than I realized,” he said, moving toward the kitchen.

“You want some coffee?” Cinna asked, and I suddenly remembered her lack of a third cup.

“From you? No,” Renzo said, shaking his head. “What’s with the kids?” he asked.

“Strays,” Cinna said. “Joel,” she told him, waving toward the couch, “is a neighbor. You should hear his parents wake up and start screaming at each other any minute now. And Lip was the homeless kid who helped you guys find me,” she told him.

Renzo, a man who picked up strays himself, Cinna included, just nodded at that.

“Alright. Well, shit is handled at the apartment building. We decided to take all the bodies. Better not to have cops sniffing around, since we don’t know who that crew was talking to about what. It was a long night. You owe Rico a nice meal,” he said, looking at Cinna.

“Thanks, Renz,” Cinna said, sucking in a deep breath.

“Now why do I get the feeling two of my most trusted capos have been lying to my fucking face about more than just fucking each other?” he asked.

Cinna was not a woman who blushed. But her cheeks went pink at that.

“Renz,” I started.

“I’ll get to you. I want answers from Cinna first,” he said, giving her unnerving eye contact.

Renzo was a fair boss. But he wasn’t going to let you off easy when you fucked up.

“It’s a long story,” she admitted.

“And I got time. So you better start fucking talking.”

“I was working one night,” she started. “And three guys came out of nowhere. Chased me into an abandoned warehouse. And beat the ever-loving shit out of me. Tried to do worse,” she said, making Renzo’s jaw tense. It wasn’t like he was na?ve to the risk that the female capos in his organization were taking that the men never really had to consider. But he didn’t like realizing shit like that got close to happening.

“They… almost killed me,” she admitted, face twisted like those words tasted bad in her mouth. “It was pure luck that I managed to get away,” she added. “And I… I went to Dav,” she said, leaving off whatever thought process had her making that choice.

A muscle was working in Renzo’s jaw, the only proof of his emotion. But he wasn’t going to let his feelings make him soft.

“And the reason I didn’t get a fucking call?”

“I honestly don’t think she could have,” I piped in, watching as his gaze slid to me. We had an entire silent conversation then, wanting to spare Cinna the embarrassment of having me tell the boss how wrecked she was.

“Alright,” Renzo relented. “Then why the fuck didn’t you call me?” he asked. “If it was as bad as all that, seems like there would have been a long recovery time where one or both of you should have been fucking contacting me.”

“I begged him not to,” Cinna admitted, making Renzo’s gaze shoot to her.

“You? Beg?” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Yes. I begged, Renz.”

To that, Renzo sighed. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t want anyone to think less of me,” she admitted.

Renzo stood with that for a second. “It wouldn’t be the first time a capo got their ass handed to them.”

“This was different,” Cinna insisted. “It was bad.”

“Even so.”

“Renz,” I said, shaking my head at him. “It’s… different,” I reminded him.

“You think any one of my men would look down on you for getting hurt? Would think it had something to do with you being a chick? Unless you are fighting with your pussy, can’t imagine how that has jackshit to do with this. Everyone knows you can handle yourself, Cinna. You were outnumbered. That’s all it was.”

“Maybe,” she said, not willing to fully concede. I had to imagine that there were things Cinna understood about her place in the criminal world that we could never grasp.

“So, what, you hid out with Dav while you recovered, then the two of you finally gave in to the tension sparking between you for years?”

“Something like that,” I agreed.

“And, what, you decided to continue working this case without bringing me in?” he asked, looking at Cinna.

“Right,” she admitted.

“Christ, Cin, the fuck am I supposed to do with this shit? I can’t have my fucking capos running around like they don’t have anyone to answer to.”

“You could bench me,” she said, sounding a lot calmer about that possibility than I knew she was. Cinna lived for the job. It would kill her to sit home twiddling her thumbs. “Or take more of a cut. Pull jobs from me.”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “You both need to be humbled,” he said, making my stomach curl. “You,” he said, looking between both of us, “now pass all your moves through Rico. He doesn’t like it, you don’t do it. Case fucking closed.”

It was a demotion in everything but title.

And he had every right to make that decision.

“Okay,” Cinna said, face tight.

“Six months,” Renzo added, softening just a little. “Six months of answering to Rico for all your moves. All good then, shit can go back to normal.”

“We can do that,” I said.

“About that,” Renzo said.

“About what?” Cinna asked.

“You. As a plural,” he said. “Officially, as your boss, I don’t give a fuck who you date or fuck or marry,” he said. “As your friend, fucking happy for you,” he said. “Now, I haven’t seen my woman all night. So I’m going home to her. Keep your fucking asses out of trouble for a while.”

With that, he was gone, and the door slamming had Joel waking up.

“That coffee smells weak,” he said in lieu of a good morning to us as he climbed off of the couch, and made his way over.

“It is,” Cinna grumbled, wrinkling her nose.

“So… is he staying too?” Joel asked, looking over at Lip.

“We can’t make him go back on the street,” Cinna said.

“You’re gonna need another couch,” he said, seeming totally fine with another new addition.

She was going to need a bigger apartment.

Preferably one with me.

But she was going to have to come to that conclusion on her own.

I would just be there with her when she did.

Cinna - 6 weeks

“Do you see it now?” Joel asked, pointing toward the paused TV where Spike was giving Buffy the moon eyes he’d claimed weeks ago that Dav had been giving me.

“I see Spike looking at Buffy like that, yeah,” I agreed.

“I say this with love,” Lip piped in. “But you can’t be that blind, right?” he asked, shaking his head at me. “That’s the exact look Dav always has when he looks at you.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, my gaze sliding to my phone for the umpteenth time since Dav walked out of the door eight and a half hours ago.

But I wasn’t keeping track or anything.

Work had been relatively tame for us for the past few weeks. Which meant that we hadn’t really spent that much time apart.

We’d been holed up in my apartment almost nonstop since the kidnapping, just letting ourselves enjoy each other. And spend time with the boys.

I was thankful for them right then, even if their obsessive need for me to admit that Dav was in love with me was getting just a little bit old.

Mainly because I knew how badly I wanted that to be true. But how scary that reality would be at the same time.

“She’s hopeless,” Joel declared, hitting the play button, so we could get lost in the fantasy world of Sunnydale for another whole season.

With no sign or word from Dav.

Eventually, I peeled myself off of the couch where Joel was already fast asleep and walked into the bedroom. Where I did not keep checking my phone. Like some pathetic, lovesick teenager.

Oh a sigh, I dropped onto the foot of the bed.

Finally unable to pretend for another moment that wasn’t exactly what I was.

Pathetic.

Love sick.

God, I loved him.

There was no other explanation for the whole swooping and soaring sensation in my chest when he was near, the way my stomach did somersaults when he laughed or reached for me.

For the way I couldn’t stop thinking about him even when he was lying beside me.

I loved him.

Damnit.

“What are you growling about?” Dav asked, making me jerk and straighten, too caught up in my confusing feelings to even hear him come in.

“You,” I admitted, gaze sliding over him, looking for any injuries, but finding none.

“What are you growling about me for?” he asked, shooting me a bewildered smile as he started to peel off his shirt.

“Because I love you, you jackass,” I blurted out, making his brows rise before his eyes went all gooey.

“Yeah?” he asked, coming toward me.

“Yes. I’m not exactly happy about it,” I told him, getting a little chuckle out of him as he dropped to a squat in front of me.

“No?” he asked, shooting me a soft smile. “‘Cause I’m fucking thrilled about it,” he told me, reaching out to grab my knees, giving them a squeeze. “I think I’ve been a little bit in love with you since I first laid eyes on you.”

To that, I snorted.

“You just liked my tits.”

“I mean…” he said, gaze sliding to my chest. “They’re definitely a part of it,” he admitted, making my lips curve up. “But it’s not just your looks, though we both know those are fucking killer. It’s your strength and independence and your annoying inability to ask for help. It’s that gooey heart of yours, and the way I’m the only one who knows about it.”

“What about the thing you say about the way I make coffee?”

“I’m… working on that,” he said, smile spreading enough to make his eyes crinkle. “I fucking love you, Cinna. And I feel really lucky that you love me back,” he said, leaning up, and sealing his lips over mine.

But right before that?

I saw it, damnit.

The Spike looking at Buffy glance.

I guess I owed Joel and Lip an apology in the morning.

Cinna - 5 months

“I swear to god if you don’t start throwing your clothes in the hamper instead of on the floor beside it,” I grumbled, tossing the clothes into the aforementioned hamper that I bought expressly for that purpose since having three extra people around all of the time meant the laundry situation was absolutely out of control.

“Who are you yelling at?” Dav asked as I walked back out of the bathroom, tying my wet hair up into a ponytail.

“Where are they?” I asked, looking around the living room that had been full just twenty minutes before, but was now suspiciously empty.

“Went down to get the mail, apparently,” Dav said, looking as confused by that as I felt.

I mean, it wasn’t weird that one of them had ordered something. After a solid month or so of settling in, they both kind of… became the kids that life hadn’t let them be before. Making messes, arguing with each other and us, asking for things without looking like it was killing them to do so.

I was almost immediately glad that Renzo hadn’t chosen to financially punish me, because these teens were expensive as fuck.

It didn’t help that neither of them had… anything. Sure, Joel had some clothes and shit in his parents’ apartment, but it got more and more clear each time he needed to do so that he dreaded going back in there. So I finally just gave him some cash to go get new clothes and shoes.

And Lip, well, he literally had nothing but one or two sentimental items he had with him while living on the street. He needed an entire wardrobe, personal care items, electronics, a couch to sleep on, the whole thing.

I mean, the couch was temporary.

It was better than the cushions on the floor, which were better than a box on the street.

But I wanted the kid to have an actual bed. Both of them, actually. In a room, or rooms. Preferably situated a safe distance from my bedroom, so I didn’t feel weird about sharing a bed with Dav, and possibly being overheard.

It was just, you know, a process.

When I’d found some private moments, I’d been looking at listings for apartments or condos that would have enough room for all of us. I even had some flagged to go do a walk-through of.

I just didn’t know how to approach the topic with Dav.

Sure, we were practically living together now. But practically living together and actually living together were completely different things.

And there was also the issue of, you know, taking Joel with me out of this building. Which could, essentially, be seen as a sort of kidnapping.

I’d looked into that as well. Having his parents sign over their rights. But it was complicated. It involved court. And that would mean someone might figure out who I was and what I did. Then no one would let Joel near me.

There was just… shit to work out.

“What’s got you looking so—“ Dav started, but the door flew open, and the boys were making their way in, looking a mix of excited and nervous as Joel brought the box over and handed it to me.

“For me?” I asked, surprised.

I mean, we’d been through a holiday together. And both of the kids had picked up gifts for Dav and I. But that was, you know, what you did on a holiday. This was unexpected and sweet.

I handed the box to Dav, feeling oddly nervous myself as I pulled open the top, then moving some of the packing peanuts out of the way to pull out a mug.

It was white with red blood splatter and little crushed bullets and bullet holes around the words scrolled across it.

Not the worst mom.

“The mug lady triple-checked to make sure we wanted the blood, bullets, and holes,” Joel admitted as, to my utter humiliation, I felt my eyes go all glassy.

“We’re still always a mug short,” Lip added.

I wasn’t exactly good with expressing emotions. Especially of the warm and squishy variety. And warm and squishy were definitely how I was feeling right then with these two kids I was starting to see as mine giving me a gift calling me, of all things, Mom .

“I think we broke it,” Joel said when I let out this strange, strangled sound.

“That’s her ‘trying not to cry’ noise,” Dav supplied just as I practically tossed the mug at him, so I could wrap an arm around each of the boys.

They were equally as awkward with the show of affection, and our mutual ineptitude made it a whole hell of a lot less awkward.

“Thanks boys,” I said, giving them one last squeeze before moving away.

“Now make your coffee,” Dav said, passing the mug to me. “We have a busy day planned.”

“We do?” I asked, looking between the three of them.

“Two open houses and three private showings,” Dav said, nodding.

“Wait… what?” I asked, stiffening. “That wasn’t… in the immediate plans.”

“All the good shit is gonna pass us by if we keep waiting,” he said as the boys moved off toward the living room.

“Dav, we can’t,” I whispered.

“Why not?”

“Mostly because of Joel,” I told him. “We’d be… kidnapping him.”

“That’s kind of the beauty of the ones I have picked out,” he told me. “They’re in the neighborhood. One is right across the street. He could still drop in from time to time, so they know he’s around.”

I had to admit that seemed like a solid compromise. And we genuinely were bursting at the seams here. The one bathroom situation alone was a nightmare. I took for granted how nice having a bathroom all to myself was. I would never, ever take it for granted again.

“It won’t hurt to look,” he reasoned.

“Okay,” I agreed. “But I don’t want the kids getting their hopes up if it’s not the right time.”

“They’re big kids. They’ll manage their disappointment if it comes to that.”

“I guess that’s… wait,” I said, turning to look at him. “There’s no apartment building across the street.”

“There’s… a building,” he said, looking all mischievous.

“Dav…”

“Look, I’ve been needing to open a legit business to wash more of my cash through,” he said, holding up a hand when I opened my mouth. “That building is as good as any. Plus, it had empty space above that could be converted to a multi-floor condo.”

“Dav, no.”

“Why not?”

“It’s one thing for me to rent a new apartment. Or even buy a condo. It’s another for—“

“For what?” he cut me off. “For us to move in together? Even though I’m already living here? I get that we are, technically, new, but it’s not like we’re strangers who started shacking up, love. We’ve known each other for a decade.”

“I know, but—“

“Your stubborn ass is going to dig your heels in about this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted, almost smiling at his exasperation.

“Fine. Then if we both like it, I buy it. You rent the apartment from me. That’s a win-win to me. You’d have a landlord almost anywhere you moved. Why not have it be me?”

“That’s… not a terrible idea.”

“Careful, Cin. You’re dangerously close to agreeing with me.”

“It’s… a rational plan.”

“And you don’t even know the best part yet.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll get to live out all of your DIY renovation dreams.”

That wasn’t exactly true.

Since in my DIY renovation dreams, I was picking paint swatches and deciding what kind of built-in cabinets would look best. Not trying to map out a floor plan, figure out where walls would go, and dodging sparking electrical wires.

In the end, though, Dav had been right. The building across from my current one made the most sense. It worked for Joel. It made life easier while we worked on renovating to be able to just walk across the street to go home, and having a business a floor below was smart fiscally, legally, and even from a safety standpoint.

We ended up not making any of our other appointments.

We knew it was the one as soon as we walked inside.

Dav - 2 years

No matter how much money you’re willing to throw at a project, renovations in the city were notoriously slow and frustrating.

Our conservative estimate of getting in before the end of the year I’d bought the property had been pushed back time and time again as things got ‘backordered’ or the crew was ‘short on staff.’

Eventually, we’d had Renzo himself lean on the crew to stop jerking us around, and get the damn place done.

All said and done, though, it was worth the often frustrating wait.

Above the storefront on the street level, there were three floors of space. The first contained the kitchen, dining, and living rooms as well as a half bath and a guest bedroom.

The second was Cinna’s suite, essentially. Except, of course, it was both of ours, just not on paper. There was a large primary bedroom with his-and-her closets, a seating area, then a bathroom complete with a soaking tub, a walk-in glass shower big enough for five, and two separate toilet rooms and sink cabinets.

Because, apparently, Cinna was hellbent not to ever have to wait for a bathroom again.

On the third floor were three more bedrooms, a full, and a half bath, and a small seating area for the kids to hang out in.

It was the first time in Lip’s entire life he had his own bedroom.

And, we learned after Lip admitted it, that Joel had also been sleeping on a couch in his parent’s place. Right there in the center of all their constant arguments. It was no wonder Cinna used to find him passed out in the hall instead.

As for his parents, well, they mostly forgot they had a kid. Save for when tax time came and they wanted the write-off. Never mind that we paid for all of his clothes, food, electronics, interests, and medical care.

Not that his parents mattered for much longer anyway. Joel only had another year before he was free of them for good.

Both of the boys had started working in the convenience store I’d opened at the street level, learning a little responsibility, and giving them a taste for making their own money, with the hopes that it would motivate them to eventually figure out a career for themselves.

I didn’t have the heart to tell Cinna, who believed both kids were destined for college and shit like that, that both Joel and Lip were showing a fuckuva lot of interest in the family business.

“Do you hear that?” Cinna asked, holding up a hand as I walked into the bedroom.

I paused, listening.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly!” she said, flying off of the bed, and rushing toward me, fingers pulling at clothing until it was in a pile at my feet. “We’re actually alone,” she added, reaching down to fist my cock, stroking me impatiently.

I pulled at her clothing then too until they were heaped next to mine.

Some part of me wanted to take full advantage of an empty house. To get lost in each other for hours.

The other part, though, knew that the sanctuary could be ended at any moment, leaving us needing to try to be quiet, not be overheard.

Sliding my hand down Cinna’s back, I sank my fingers into her ass, pulling upward until she was wrapping her legs around my waist. Then I was turning, walking her backward, and slamming her back against the wall, then surging inside of her, both of us gasping at the sensation.

We were pure feeling then, hands sliding, grabbing, lips crashing, tongues teasing as I fucked her hard and fast through one orgasm before she was demanding I take her to the bed, where she climbed on top, riding me as I enjoyed the view as she bounced and writhed and cried out as she came.

“More,” I said, grabbing her, and rolling her onto her side, facing away from me as I thrust inside of her again, my hand slipping across her throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to increase the sensations as I drove her up and through another orgasm that had her body shuddering hard as she cried out my name.

“I can’t,” she gasped as she came back down, finding me still hard inside of her.

“Yes, you can,” I told her, moving onto my knees, and pulling her onto all fours, reaching into the nightstand for a bottle, then pouring a small bit of lube over her ass, then teasing her with one finger, then another, loving the way she wiggled and whimpered at the sensation.

“Dav, please,” she pleaded, voice a rough whisper.

“Please what?” I asked, fucking her with my fingers harder. “Please fuck your ass?” I asked, spreading my fingers, preparing her.

“Yes, please,” she begged, rocking her ass up toward me.

I fucked her with my fingers for another minute before adding more of the cool liquid as I eased my fingers out, then pressed my cock in, feeling her tightness close around me as I eased in.

Cinna was sucking in deep breaths as her moans got louder, more ragged, as I pressed all the way in and paused.

“Move,” she begged, wiggling back against me.

I didn’t need more encouragement than that.

I fucked her slowly at first, but harder and faster as she begged for it.

My hand slipped between her thighs, working her clit as I fucked her.

“You’re taking my cock so good,” I said, getting a low whimper in response as she got closer and closer, the way her pussy was clenching making her tighten around me too. “Are you going to come with my cock in your ass?” I asked, getting another moan out of her in response just as her pussy started to spasm, the orgasm slamming through her.

“Fuck,” I groaned, thrusting through it, then pulling out, coming hard and hot on her ass as she struggled to catch her breath.

I was still sitting there holding my cock when, a floor below us, the front door flew open, cracking against the wall.

On the mattress, Cinna let out a little laugh as she rolled her upper half over, looking up at me.

“That was really good timing,” she declared, all pink and dewy from the orgasms.

And I knew right that fucking moment that this was the woman I was going to marry.

Now I probably just had to wait another decade to convince her she wanted to marry me too…

Cinna - 3 years

“Are you wearing heels?” Lip asked as I came into the apartment with a long raincoat belted tightly around my body, finding him standing in the kitchen, eating ice cream right out of the tub.

“I wear heels all the time,” I insisted. Yeah, they were heeled boots, but still.

“Why are they white?” he pressed, frowning at the damn shoes. I should have waited to put them on.

“It is a Friday night. What are you doing home?” I shot back.

“It’s only ten,” he said, shrugging.

Only ten?

I was ready for bed already.

You know, after my plans.

“Where did you go?” he asked, eyeing the bag in my hand.

“I had to get Dav’s prescription,” I told him, shrugging. “Had to go all the way across Brooklyn for an all-night pharmacy,” I added. “So he better not give me a hard time about taking them.”

“I’m sure if anyone can make him take them, it’s you,” Lip said, shrugging and moving back to the couch, blissfully leaving me and my weird outfit alone.

Still, not wanting to draw his attention again, I tiptoed across the apartment and up the stairs before moving onto the second floor, and heading into the primary bedroom.

“Where have… are you wearing heels?” Dav asked, pulling himself up in bed with a grimace.

He had a hastily stitched up bullet wound in his right shoulder, hence my trip to the pharmacy. For antibiotics I’d conned out of one of those internet doctors who asked some basic questions, then sent off a script. So long as you could fake the symptoms that would have them prescribing some broad-spectrum antibiotics, you were all set.

The pain pills were in the bag too, but those had been bought from a trusted dealer.

I set the bag on the nightstand before moving back a few feet. Reaching for the sash of the coat, I silently prayed he remembered this reference because I was going to feel really fucking ridiculous if he didn’t.

With a deep breath, I pulled the sash off, then slipped out of the coat.

Leaving me standing there in thigh-highs and a little white nursemaid’s dress. With a red bra peeking out.

“ Fuck ,” he groaned, his head falling back onto the headboard as his gaze roamed over me. “You even got the bra right,” he said, making my heart swoop and soar.

“I aim to please,” I said, making my way toward the side of the bed, reaching for the bag, but finding my left wrist snagged in his hand.

“And here I was thinking the only time I’d see you in a dress was on our wedding day,” he said, his finger sliding across the ring that had been settled on my finger for months now.

I’ll admit that, before Dav, I never really understood the whole wedding and marriage thing. But I found myself doing girly shit like looking at floral arrangements and tablescapes ever since Dav got down on one knee.

The whole thing was practically planned out even though we hadn’t even set a date yet.

“You know,” he said, pulling until I had no choice but to move up onto the bed, straddling his waist. “There is one major advantage of dresses,” he told me, pushing my skirt up, and teasing his fingers over the red lacy panties I put on to match the bra.

“You’re injured,” I insisted.

“Baby, if I’m ever too injured to fuck you, take me out back and put me out of my misery,” he said, yanking me in, and sealing his lips to mine.

Before showing me all the advantages of dresses.

Dav - 7 years

“I just think it’s time you let the poor guy move up from associate, that’s all I’m saying,” I told Cinna as we walked out of the restaurant and onto the cold December streets, the wind biting at any exposed skin in seconds.

“He’s a child,” Cinna insisted of Lip. Who’d just turned twenty-two.

“He’s three years older than you were when you became a capo,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, but—“ she started, suddenly wrenching away from me, and turning on her heel.

Before I even knew what she was doing, her arm shot out, grabbing the wrist of someone trying to get away from her as quickly as possible.

“Nice try, kid,” she said, yanking harder until she turned the person in a black hoodie around, revealing a young girl of maybe fifteen or sixteen with light blonde hair around a deceptively sweet-looking face with big, doe, blue eyes. But there was cunning behind them.

And I didn’t know exactly why until she sighed and reached into her hoodie pocket.

“Fine. Here,” she said, holding out Cinna’s wallet to her.

“That was really fucking smooth,” Cinna told her, taking back her wallet.

“Not smooth enough,” the girl said, that look in her eye suddenly disappearing, leaving only a soul-deep sort of desperation.

It was then that I saw it.

The gloves with holes in them. The shoes worn halfway through the rubber. Her greasy hair. The way her jeans were sagging off of her waist and legs, like she’d lost a lot of weight since she’d originally gotten them.

“How about I buy you something to eat, and you tell me who taught you to pick a pocket that well,” Cinna suggested, that big, gooey heart of hers never able to walk away from a street kid in need.

“Fine,” the girl said, looking annoyed, but there was relief in her blue eyes as she fell into step beside Cinna.

“What’s your name?” Cinna asked.

“Della.”

“Della, nice. I’m Cinna. This is my husband, Dav. Who I will meet back at the house later,” she said, tone a bit pointed. She wanted me to get lost.

There was no way to be offended since we both understood that girls on the street might have more of an issue being around a strange man than the street boys did.

“Yep. See you there,” I said, pressing a kiss to her temple before moving in the opposite direction of them.

“I know I risk sounding fucking ancient saying this, but can you turn that racket down?” I asked as I moved into the house, hearing the thump of the base shaking my bones.

“Didn’t think you’d be home so soon,” Amaya, the only girl street kid we’d ever taken in, said as she flicked off the music.

She’d been a little older than Joel and Lip when we’d come across her. But she’d been on the street with her fifteen year-old brother as well. The now sixteen-year-old Darron was sprawled across the couch, his phone held aloft over his head, scrolling through some videos.

Amaya was tall with a lot more meat on her bones than she’d had when we’d first taken her in, always giving any food they got from passerby to her brother as she wasted away. Her dark skin wasn’t stretched over bones like a skeleton anymore, and her love of eating once she was free to do so as much and often as she wanted had morphed into a desire to open her own restaurant one day.

Which meant that, even though I’d just gotten in from dinner, I was about to try no fewer than five different dishes she had spread across the island.

“I think Cinna might be bringing someone back with her tonight,” I told her, watching as understanding crossed her face. “A girl,” I added.

“Oh, that would be nice,” Amaya said, glancing over at Darron. “There’s enough boys in this family already,” she declared.

“Listen, the next time you drop shit down the sink, figure out how to fish it out your—“ Joel cut off as he walked into the common area, holding the cross to Darron’s necklace in his hand, “Hey,” he said, nodding at me. “Why am I on plumber duty if you’re home?” he asked.

“I just got here,” I told him as there was a racket outside of the door before, suddenly, it opened and Lip came in with three bags hanging from his hands.

“Amaya, do you have any idea how hard it is to find caramel baking chips at this time of night?” he asked as he moved into the apartment.

“Since I can’t usually even find them at a decent hour, yes,” Amaya said, not apologetic at all. “But you were the one who wanted the cinnamon scones, weren’t you?”

“Fair enough,” Lip said, snagging something off one of the platters on the counter. “Weren’t you supposed to be on a date?” he asked, looking at me.

“Cinna got pickpocketed by some girl,” I told him.

“So, should I just go and make up the guest room bed now?” Joel asked.

The two older boys had moved out together a year before, wanting to, well, do shit they didn’t want their parental figures seeing.

It had been good timing, since Amaya and Darron had come into our paths just a few weeks later, needing rooms to call home.

Amaya was still explaining the importance of quality butter in baking twenty minutes later as the apartment door opened, and in walked Cinna with Della in tow, her shoulders hunched and her head on a swivel, like she was expecting some sort of ambush instead of a family gathering.

“Oh, everyone’s here,” Cinna said, closing the door behind Della. “Alright. Well, you met my husband, Dav. And these are our oldest boys, Lip and Joel,” she explained, each of the boys giving her a wave. “They don’t live here anymore, but the younger two run them ragged doing their errands for them,” she explained. “Amaya and Darron do live here. Guys, this is Della. She’s going to crash for… the night,” Cinna said, though we all knew it was never a night or weekend.

Once they came in, they didn’t leave until they were grown and ready.

“Want me to show you to your room?” Amaya asked, wiping her hands on the pretty floral apron she’d gotten as a birthday present from Lore. Renzo had, in typical mafia uncle fashion, given her a can of mace. “I can lend you some pajamas too, if you want to shower,” she said, and some sort of understanding passed between the girls then.

“Sure,” Della said, following Amaya down the hallway.

“You know,” I said, snagging Cinna around the waist, and pulling her back against me, “for two people who couldn’t have children, we sure have a lot of children,” I said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“And we didn’t have to change a single diaper,” she declared, leaning into me.

“Exactly,” I agreed.

“Pretty fucking perfect,” she said, a smile toying with her lips.

Yes, yes we were.

XX