Page 115 of The Price of Forever

Damian popped his head into the bedroom. “Morning, Jordan. You hungry?”

“I have no idea,” I told him. “I’m either famished or repulsed by the idea of food.”

“Sounds like a hangover,” he said. “Trace and I made brunch if you want anything.”

“Thanks, guys.” I grinned over at Damian. “I’ll just go wash my face and then be out.”

Axel came to his feet, headed for the door. “I won’t forget about the wedgie, just so you know.” He sent me one last smile before he pulled the door shut behind him. I relished the comfortable, safe silence. I liked sleeping over at my brothers’ penthouse. No, I loved it.

Just like I loved rebuilding these family ties.

I looked down at my hands, my chin wobbling as emotion found me so early in my day. Seven would be proud of all the progress we made last night as a family. But he hadn’t shown up.

I tore myself out of the extra-comfy bed and slipped into the attached bathroom to get ready for the day. After washing my face and changing clothes, I found Axel, Damian, and Trace at the main island in the kitchen, munching on bacon. Zero sat at Axel’s feet, perking up as I walked in.

“Morning, Jordan,” Trace called out.

“Hey guys.” I paused to pet Zero’s glossy, boxy head, planting a kiss on him before settling on an open stool facing the spread they’d laid out. Zero stood and stretched, then repositioned himself at my feet. “Which cook should I be thanking today?”

“Mostly him.” Damian jerked his thumb toward Trace. “Though I oversaw the bacon crisping.”

“It looks exceptionally crispy,” I said. “Just how I like it.”

“Must be a Haynes thing,” Axel mused. “If Trace had his way he’d serve it half-raw.”

“Hey now,” Trace said, lifting his palms. “I like it softer. Not still oinking.”

“We need to enjoy the bacon now,” Axel muttered. “Because who knows if we’ll get it in prison?”

Damian wilted slightly. “Axel—” But he didn’t say anything more.

My gut wrenched—there was darkness lapping at the edges of our conversation now, and I could feel how it threatened to pull them under. Me included.

“You guys don’t know if you’re going,” I reminded them, reaching for the perfectly crisp bacon. “I think this is going to blow over.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” Damian said softly.

“We heard from the lawyer last week,” Axel said, clearing his throat. “They’ve set the first trial date. It’s in a month and a half. Our lawyer has been reviewing everything, and he says it’s looking fifty-fifty right now. I don’t know about anyone else, but fifty percent chance of prison is one hundred percent too high.”

Trace studied his plate with deep ridges in his forehead. Damian pushed around the remaining eggs on his plate without eating anything.

And all I could do was grasp for something to reassure them.

“Do you know what evidence they have?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Damian said. “It’s all focused on our algorithm, the one that reinvests a portion of client profits back into the neediest areas of society.”

“I think it really depends on how much of an issue the jury is going to take with our quasi-Robin Hood approach,” Trace added. “If we get a bunch of penny-pinching assholes who couldn’t give a fuck about the less fortunate, then we’re probably screwed.”

Silence thudded through the kitchen.

“How long would you go away for?” I asked timidly.

“It depends on the judge, and the verdict. But likely a decade,” Axel said flatly.

My gaze dropped to my plate. I’d just started to get to know them. To feel good about having them in my life. And now they were potentially going to be disappearing for ten more years? It didn’t seem fair. Life had ripped us apart for so many years already. Why were we facing the possibility of losing ten more?

“Is there a chance that someone…I don’t know…framed you? Or something?” I’d asked the question before I even realized I was speaking.

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