Page 55 of In Their Arms

Quentin pauses, just long enough to make me nervous. Then—

“You’re having twins, Luca. Twin boys.”

For a second, all I can do is stare at the phone, my mind trying to catch up, my heart hammering against my ribs. And then—Grayson groans so loud I think half the parking lot hears it. “I swear to god, if you give birth to Omegas, Luca, I’m going to have your ass.”

I wiggle my ass at him, still dazed, still buzzing with joy. “You’re already allowed to have it.”

Blake laughs, burying his face in my neck, kissing me over and over, his hands resting on my stomach like he can already feel them.

Luther shakes his head, amused. “Twin boys. Holy shit.”

But I barely hear any of them because another realization hits me.

I jerk back, eyes wide. “Pillows,” I gasp. “I was promised pillows.”

Luther chuckles, ruffling my hair. “Next stop, pillows.”

Blake grins so wide it hurts. “You’re going to be so fucking big,” he says, his hands sliding down to my stomach, his voice full of awe. “I love it.”

And for the first time in forever, I feel nothing but happiness.

34

Epilogue

The Buyer

The county jail stands out, all sharp angles and cold concrete. It’s the kind of place that eats men alive, grinds them down into nothing. Hudson Ellis has been sitting in one of those cells for the last week, rotting, stewing, waiting. And now, I’m here to remind him exactly how deep in the shit he really is.

I straighten my suit, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, adjusting my tie with precision. This is just another business meeting. Another deal. Another loose end that needs tying up. The persona I hold during the day pales in comparison to these moments that I get to be the real me.

I step inside, nodding at the officer at the front desk as I drop my phone, my watch, and my keys into a plastic bin. The process is routine, unquestioned. They know who I am. They know why I’m here. The escort leads me down the hallway, past thick metal doors and flickering lights, past cells filled with men who have no future left to salvage. Hudson should be one of them. He should have known better.

I’m taken into a private room, empty except for a metal table and two chairs, one on each side of the table. I settle into one, legs crossed, hands folded neatly on the surface, waiting and that’s when the door across the room opens, Hudson shuffled in.

The Alpha is a wreck. His hair is unkempt, his jumpsuit wrinkled, his face drawn and pale. He looks smaller than he did before, his confidence stripped down to nothing but the raw nerves underneath.

Good.

The guard shoves him down into the seat across from me, locking the cuffs to the table. I can see it the moment Hudson registers who he’s sitting across from. His face turns ashen, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

Pathetic.

I don’t say anything, letting him squirm, letting him wonder why I’m here and then slowly put all the pieces together. “I—I’m sorry,” he stammers, blubbering already. “I didn’t mean for things to go south. I didn’t know—”

I laugh, a sound that bellows in the small room. “You’re not sorry about that,” I say, shaking my head, amused at the desperation leaking off him in waves. “You’re sorry you got caught. And you wouldn’t have, had you been a little more careful with the product.” His face blanches as I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “But you couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Hudson shakes his head quickly, hands clenching into fists. “No, no, listen, it’s not like that. Just—just get me out of here and we’ll talk.”

Oh sweet lord, this man is precious. The sheer audacity of the man sitting across from me, the way he still thinks he has even a shred of control, is fucking hilarious. I slam my hands against the metal table with a loud crack, the sound ricocheting off the concrete walls. Hudson flinches, his entire body jolting, his shackles rattling against the surface as his back hits the chair. He looks at me like he’s finally realizing, finally understanding, that I am not here to help him.

"I'm not doing jack shit for you,” I muse.

Hudson’s mouth opens, but I don’t give him the chance to speak.

"I’ve covered for your ass more times than I can count,” I say, my fingers pressing against the cold surface between us, my patience snapping thread by thread. “Thrown other people in jail, ruined their lives just so you wouldn’t get in trouble. Made evidence disappear, made sure every single one of your fuck-ups never saw the light of day. And for what?" I click my tongue, shaking my head so that he truly understands. “But this time, I think I’m going to let you rot in here for a little bit.”

“You can’t leave me in here.”

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