Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

SALEM

I shuffled into the kitchen the following morning, cocooned in one of Cole's oversized shirts and my trusty pair of fuzzy socks. The scene that greeted me was unexpectedly domestic. Mateo stood at the stove, his bare back to me, clad in gray sweatpants with a tea towel casually draped over his shoulder. The aroma of something delectable filled the air, drawing me further into the land of the living.

Cole walked over to me, his lips pressing against my forehead, before placing a cup of steaming coffee in my hands. Still in a daze, I stumbled over to the kitchen table where the others were seated. Fallon made no effort to hide her amusement over my obvious confusion at the domestic bliss, her lips curled into a teasing smile.

With my senses slowly coming to life, I took in the sight before me. Lennox sat at the head of the table, a rare smile gracing his features as he talked with Cohen, who was assembling a cat tree for Loki. Mateo, still tending to the stove, exuded an air of quiet confidence as he effortlessly navigated the kitchen. Cole moved to sit beside me before leaning back in his chair, sipping his coffee in contentment. And Fallon, with her contagious laughter and wicked grin, brightened the room with her presence.

The warmth of the coffee seeped into my bones and chased away the last remnants of sleep. This was all surprisingly tranquil and so different from the chaos and uncertainty that often defined our lives. It felt as though we had been transported to a different world, one where the Triad no longer held sway over us.

But even in this fleeting moment of harmony, the message from Javier played on my mind, reminding me that danger was lurking just beyond our doorstep. Massimo's knowledge of my survival threatened to shatter the fragile peace we had managed to carve out for ourselves, and I knew I needed to tell the others.

Mateo bustled about the kitchen before serving up breakfast for everyone. The tantalizing aroma of sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs had my stomach rumbling.

After taking a few bites, I decided to get the ball rolling. Clearing my throat, I turned to face Lennox, his expression content as he sipped his coffee. "I need to talk to you all about something," I began, my voice loud enough to be heard over the clinking of our utensils.

All eyes turned to me, curiosity etched into their expressions as they waited for me to continue. With a deep breath, I relayed the contents of Javier's message. "Massimo knows I'm alive," I confessed, my voice wary with apprehension.

A heavy silence descended upon the kitchen, broken only by the sound of utensils being set aside. Damn, there goes our carefree morning.

Lennox raised his stormy eyes to mine. "I have already informed Salem she isn't to leave the estate," he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Fallon let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're a bloody idiot, Brother," she retorted, her frustration evident. "You can't just lock her away like some damsel."

I scoffed at Lennox's misguided attempt to protect me. "Keep dreaming, Lennox," I shot back, my tone laced with defiance. "Like hell am I going to sit around twiddling my thumbs while Massimo's out there plotting against us."

A wave of tension washed over the kitchen as I issued my challenge. I could feel their gazes upon me, each one silently pleading for me to reconsider. But deep down, I knew I couldn't simply stand by and watch as my fate was decided for me.

Cole shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting between each of us as if searching for a resolution. "Guys, we can figure this out," he interjected, his voice a calm anchor amid the rising tide of tension. "Fighting among ourselves isn't going to solve anything."

But I couldn't let it go. "I won't let him control me," I declared, my voice firm.

Lennox's expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing his features as he regarded me. "I just want you to be safe," he murmured.

Cohen's gaze met mine as he offered a sympathetic nod. "Lennox has a point, Salem. You should really be laying low for a while. It's the safest option."

Beside him, Cole chimed in with a supportive nod of his own, his expression mirroring Cohen's sentiment. "Yeah, I agree," he added, his tone equally resolute. "Better to be safe than sorry, right?"

I could feel the frustration surging in my stomach, threatening to spill over at any moment as I struggled to come to terms with the reality of my situation.

Before I could fight for my freedom, Mateo spoke up, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "What if we compromise?" he suggested, his tone measured and deliberate. "You stay put until Remington's visit next week. We can use that time to figure things out, and then once he's here, we're making a plan to take Massimo out anyway."

My jaw clenched in protest, the urge to lash out building within me as I wrestled with my conflicting emotions. But as the seconds ticked by, resignation washed over me, the realization sinking in that Mateo was right. I could deal with a week staying out of sight.

"Fine," I muttered, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "But I'll be bored as fuck, so don't expect me to be in a good mood."

Mateo offered me a troublesome smile, his eyes heating. "We won't," he promised, his tone teasing. "There are plenty of ways for us to keep you occupied."

Mateo shot me a playful wink, and I cracked a small smile in return.

Lennox's exasperated voice cut through the lingering tension, drawing our attention back to the task at hand. "Alright, now that that's settled, can I finish my bloody breakfast?" he grumbled, annoyance coloring his words as he gestured toward his plate with a fork.

This elicited a round of chuckles from the rest of us, breaking the remaining tension in the group. With a collective sigh of relief, we all turned our attention back to our food, the clinking of utensils against plates filling the air once more.

I had made my way to the home gym with the morning's conversation still on my mind. I stepped inside, the familiar scent of sweat and leather enveloping me, a comforting reminder of the countless hours I had spent in similar settings honing my skills.

I wasn't surprised to find that the gym was equipped with a boxing ring. Cole loved to fight, and Lennox had taken all of us into consideration when remodeling the house. Without hesitation, I wrapped my hands and stepped into the ring, the canvas cool beneath my feet.

With each punch, I felt a surge of pent-up anger pulsating in my veins, my muscles straining against the resistance of the punching bag. I knew I shouldn't be pushing myself so hard, especially with the injuries I had sustained in New Orleans, but I couldn't help it.

I had always found solace in combat training, a way to channel my emotions and focus my mind. And with the looming threat of Massimo's retaliation hanging over me, I couldn't afford to let my guard down for even a moment.

As I moved through my routine, the rhythmic thud of my fists against the bag echoing through the room, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of my mind. Massimo knew I was alive, and it was only a matter of time before he came looking for me.

But I refused to cower in fear, to hide away like a frightened child. I may have been injured, but I was still a force to be reckoned with.

With each punch, I reaffirmed my determination to take control of my own destiny—to fight for the future I wanted. And as the sweat dripped down my brow and my muscles screamed in protest, I knew that I would stop at nothing to protect those I loved.

I was lost in the rhythm of my punches when I was interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind me. I turned to see Cole, his expression a mix of concern and disapproval.

"I thought I'd find you here," he said, his voice carrying a hint of reproach. "You should be resting, Salem. You're not fully healed yet, and I can see you're already bleeding."

I sighed, glancing down to see that he was right. I'd probably pulled a stitch, but that could be easily fixed. "I know, but I can't just sit around and do nothing. I need to be ready for whatever comes next."

Cole shook his head, but there was amusement in his eyes. "Stubborn as ever, I see."

He sighed but continued forward until he was stepping into the ring, holding up a pair of pads for me to spar with. I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You're going to train with me?"

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I wouldn't dream of letting you have all the fun."

With that, we fell into a rhythm, trading blows as we moved around the ring. Cole was a skilled fighter, his movements fluid and precise.

After what felt like hours, he finally called a halt to our training session, his chest heaving. "I think that's enough for one day," he said, handing me a towel to wipe away the sweat.

I nodded, feeling the familiar ache of exertion in my muscles. "Yeah, you're probably right."

My body trembled with exhaustion. My stab wounds were bleeding steadily now, and every inch of me ached. But despite the physical toll it had taken on me, I felt clarity and peace wash over me.

"Come on," he said, stepping forward with a concerned look on his face. "I'll help you with your wounds."

I nodded, grateful for his offer of assistance. Together, we made our way back to my room, where I quickly stripped off my sweaty clothes and stepped into the ensuite shower. The hot water stung against my many injuries, but it also helped to soothe the ache in my muscles.

When I emerged from the shower, Cole was already rummaging through the first-aid kit, his brow furrowed in concentration. He turned to me as I approached, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Let's get you up on the bench," he said, reaching out to grab me by the hips. He lifted me with ease and placed me beside the sink.

Cole then set to work, his touch gentle and precise as he redressed my stab wounds and applied a balm to the bruises and cuts left behind by the cattle prod. With each movement, I felt the tension in my body slowly melting away, replaced by a sense of calm and reassurance.

As he worked, we fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of Cole's murmured reassurances. Despite the pain and discomfort, I was grateful for his presence, his unwavering support, and his care.

Cole finished his ministrations and stepped back to admire his handiwork with a satisfied nod. "There," he said. "All done."

The wounds still ached, but they were now clean and dressed. "Better?" he asked, his eyes meeting mine with concern.

I nodded, offering him a small smile of gratitude. "Yeah, much better. Thanks."

He returned my smile, his expression warm and reassuring. "Anytime, Butterfly. Let's just try to keep the injuries to a minimum going forward, yeah?"

I flashed him a rueful smirk, my lips curling up at the corners as I met his gaze. "A bit hard in my line of work," I admitted with a chuckle, "but sure, I can give it a shot."