Page 129 of Love Him Like Water

Nico.

In the apartment.

As were the rest of my brothers.

The joy fizzled out into worry as I ran toward the steps.

“What’s going on? Where’s Renzo? Is he okay?” I asked, nearly falling off the last step in my haste.

“Hey, he’s alright,” Nico said, voice calming. “He asked us to come hang out with you while he was… working.”

“He asked you to babysit me while he handled the coup,” I clarified. “Don’t think I missed this,” I added, reaching out to tap under his arm where the firm outline of a gun was situated.

“Something like that,” Nico said, reaching out to snag my chin, turning my face from side to side. “What’s this from?”

“An airbag,” I told him. “Didn’t Renzo tell you?”

“The Cliffsnotes,” Cesare said, moving closer, holding out his arms.

I didn’t hesitate.

I folded myself into them, realizing again just how much I missed my family.

Having them here was a step in the right direction when it came to mending fences between our families, to having a true alliance, not just one in theory.

“Figure you can tell us the whole story,” Gavino said, accepting his hug.

I went around to them all before circling back to Nico, folding myself in, borrowing a little of his strength before moving away.

“I can do that,” I agreed, making my way toward the kitchen that someone, likely Nico, had already cleaned up. “But I need some coffee and acetaminophen first,” I told them.

The screaming in my head had become a dull, but ever-present, ache.

“Coffee is on the way,” Cesare said, making my brows pinch as I turned away from the coffee pot.

“You ordered?” I asked, looking at Nico, who was the only one of them who likely remembered how I took my coffee, since we went out and got it often.

“No,” he said as there was a knock on the door, making me stiffen.

“You’re okay,” Cesare said, voice soft, sensing my anxiety. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

I nodded tightly at that, pushing back the memories of the last time I stood in this kitchen, the confusion and fear I’d felt then.

But Nico pulled open the door, then let two people inside.

Cinna, carrying two cardboard trays of coffees.

And right beside her…

“Elian!” I said, heart leaping as I rushed toward him, wanting to throw my arms around him, but pulling back. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I said, arms still raised a bit, but not going for it.

“You won’t,” he said, reaching for me instead, holding on for a second. “Worried we lost you,” he admitted.

“Me?” I scoffed, pulling back. “I was worried about you,” I said, thinking of the pop of the gunshot, the thud that I knew now was him hitting the ground.

“He’s fine,” Cinna said. “Dug around in his chest a bit, pulled out a bullet, stitched him up, and pitched a small fit when he signed himself out first thing this morning.”

“Had to check on you,” Elian admitted, then his gaze slid from me to my brothers behind me. I could practically feel their gazes on us, trying to make sense of our obvious closeness.

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