“No,” King says. “It certainly wasn’t.”
I let out a breath and turn off the taps before stepping out of the shower and right into Cruz’s arms. He wraps the warm towel around me, and I cringe as his hands roam up and down my body, over my scrapes and cuts while helping to dry me off. “So, what now?” I ask, walking across the bathroom and back to the mirror where I can see myself properly.
I adjust my towel and wrap it around myself as King steps into my side and takes my arm. His gaze sweeps over my injuries. “Now I bandage you up and put you to bed.”
“I meant with Dynasty,” I tell him as he releases my arm and begins searching through the cupboards for the first aid kit. “How am I supposed to face Carver and Grayson knowing that their families were responsible for killing my parents?”
Cruz grips my waist and steps in behind me, meeting my gaze through the mirror. “They would never hurt you,” he insists, his fingers tightening on my waist. “They want to protect you just as we do. They don’t hold the same values as their fathers.”
“But if and when their fathers are dead, they’ll be the head of their families and made to stand against me?”
“Mostly,” King says as he starts working on my arm. “We’re hoping that when that happens, they can sway their own families and the other six families to stand with you, but you’ve got to remember that it’s good versus bad, and you are neither. You’re Switzerland standing in the middle. You’re the deciding factor, and while I shouldn’t be encouraging this, if you showed favor to them, they’ll be more inclined to accept your rule.”
“Show favor to the people who sent hitmen after me? Yeah, right.”
“That’s what I thought,” King scoffs.
Silence falls around us as King bandages me up and makes me comfortable, and before I know it, Cruz is slipping his hand into mine and pulling me out of the bathroom. “Come on,” he murmurs. “It’s late. Let me take you to bed and then we can talk it all through properly with the boys in the morning. I’m sure after sleeping on it, Carver and Grayson will have plenty to say.”
I groan and listen to King’s soft chuckle as he follows us out of the bathroom, switching off the light as he goes. “They’re really not that bad,” he tells me. “They’re just—”
“Assholes?”
“Yeah,” he laughs, not able to deny it.
We reach my bed and Cruz pulls the blankets back then indicates for me to get in, and feeling the weight of the day resting on my shoulders, I don’t hesitate. There’s nothing I’d like more than to fall into a deep sleep and put the day behind me. Perhaps we can try another birthday party next year, though that’s assuming I’m still breathing this time next year.
I scoot down between the sheets, and the second my head hits the pillow, a yawn tears through me. Cruz dips down and gently brushes his lips over mine. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he says before swiftly disappearing and making his way out of my room to make space for King, who just gives me an awkward smile before turning and walking away.
I can’t help but laugh. He’s so damn stubborn, but I kinda love that about him. He hates showing that he cares, but he does it in so many other ways that it’s impossible for him to deny. His fingers brush over the light switch, and my room instantly drowns into darkness, and as he goes to close my bedroom door, I realize that there’s a good possibility that Carver won’t be showing up tonight. With the fresh memory of hitmen chasing me through the woods, alone is something I definitely don’t want to be.
“Wait,” I call, watching as both of their handsome faces appear back in my doorway.
“What’s wrong?” King demands, his eyes alert as though he’s searching for some kind of threat.
“I …” Shit. Suck it up and admit your fears, Winter. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Would you guys stay for a while?”
Not another word needs to be said before Cruz is pushing back through the door and kicking off his shoes. He slips into the bed beside me, instantly pulling me into his arms as King walks around the other side, laying down behind me.
With my body curled into Cruz’s side, King rests his hand against my thigh and presses his body up against my back. “We’ve got you,” he murmurs into the dark room. “You can sleep.” His hand soothingly moves up and down my thigh, traveling right up to my hip and then back down to my knee, and while his movements are meant to help me sleep, all they do is remind me that I’m as naked as the day I was born between two of the most gorgeous men I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.