Page 54 of Beyond Redemption

“I can’t lose you,” he choked out. “As long as I still have you and Stella, I can survive this.”

I waited a beat, watching as he repositioned himself next to me. I stared directly into his eyes, making sure he understood the commitment behind my words. “Then you’ll survive this.”

He pulled me close, and though there was so much I wanted to say—in anger, aimed at his brothers, desperate to defend him from the words they’d used that would scar him long after tonight, to seethe over how easily they’d forgotten everything he’d sacrificed, how quickly they’d left him standing outside the family he built—I held back. I let the fury rest, let the arguments go. I let him hold me, choosing to be his ballast instead of the sword I so badly wanted to raise on his behalf.

“Liis?” he whispered.

I kissed his chest, then rested my cheek against his skin. “I love you.”

He breathed out a laugh, emotion still straining his voice. “That’s what I was going to say.”

I closed my eyes, smiled, and nestled into him. “I know.”

Chapter Ten

Thomas

Under the sharp, white glare of the Arizona morning sun, my brothers were seated around an oval iron table beneath a wide, shaded terrace that stretched along the east fence line, its steel beams and canvas panels designed for survival in relentless desert heat. Steam rose from our ceramic mugs and insulated tumblers. Every plate held only remnants of what had once been generous stacks of southwestern-style eggs, warm flatbread, and fresh-cut fruit, all supplied by the Marcel’s commissary kitchens, where quality was treated as policy.

Beyond the table, a compact but carefully maintained playground sat in a shallow basin of packed sand and crushed gravel, bordered by a reinforced wooden fence and wide, professionally installed shade structures designed to withstand years of desert sun. A solid steel slide, two reinforced swings, a modular climbing frame, and a seesaw made up the entirety of it, nothing excessive or neglected. It was simple, but it reflected the same standard as everything else in the compound.

Olive was at the center, smiling more than I’d seen in years, treating the space like a small kingdom entrusted temporarily to her care as she watched over the next generation of Maddoxes within it.

Olive’s hair was pulled away from her face into a French braid, her sleeves pushed above her elbows. She directed traffic like a barefoot camp counselor who took her responsibilitiesseriously, happily supervising as Hollis chased Hadley in frantic circles, James and Jessica competed to see who could swing higher without flipping backward, and Carter toddled near the sandbox under Abby’s close supervision, every minor wobble triggering her instinct to intervene. Stella was already resting in double shade provided by the slide and canvas-topped structures. She wasn’t quite asleep but lazily running her hand along the fabric of Liis’s pants to lull herself into a nap. Camille sat next to them, swaying side to side as she rocked Oliver.

Falyn lingered just outside the natural flow of the playground, never more than a few steps from Olive but pretending she wasn’t tracking her every movement. She’d drift closer when Olive was focused on something, retreat when Olive glanced her way, then circle again under the guise of checking on Hollis or brushing sand from Hadley’s knee. Her eyes rarely left Olive for long. Two and a half years of believing your daughter was dead didn’t dissolve in a day. It clung and hovered, the way Falyn clearly wanted to, though she held herself back with more discipline than most people would have managed.

Olive seemed to be counting the kids over and over in her mind, her gaze constantly shifting as she crouched to untangle Hollis’s shoe, clapped when Hadley finally made it across the climbing bars, redirected James when he started pushing the equipment beyond what it was designed for, scooped Carter up before he could face-plant, and smiled at Stella every time their eyes met. Every so often, she would glance toward Falyn with a small, reassuring grin. It threatened to make my cold, black heart kickstart a bit, so I focused on the commotion around her. I would’ve been mentally exhausted within the first five minutes, yet Olive was clearly in her element.

Bodhi remained against the fence, leaning into the planks with his arms crossed loosely. His eyes followed Olive with subtle vigilance; his expression softened in a way most mennever learned how to manage without embarrassment. He never crowded her or interfered, but he was so consistently present that his absence would have been more noticeable than his proximity. Every few seconds, his gaze flicked outward toward the perimeter, the guards, and the outer ridge before returning to her, as though he were cataloging potential threats in the background of his devotion.

Travis watched him over the rim of his mug. “Kid’s solid.”

Tyler nodded. “Didn’t hesitate. Not once. Last night, I mean.”

“In a room full of us? Most guys would’ve folded,” Taylor added. “Or tried to acquiesce. He backed her up without making it about himself.”

Trenton’s fingers curled around the handle of his mug, wholly unimpressed. “Jury’s still out.”

I chuckled, following Olive’s movements as she climbed the steps to the slide, paused to make sure Carter wasn’t wandering into danger, and then sent Hadley down with exaggerated fanfare, her laughter carrying as Hadley landed in a burst of sand at the bottom.

“I’ve watched him for over a year. I appreciate most that he’s not intimidated by her strength,” I said. “He’s very go-with-the-flow, but push him or challenge her, and a switch flips. He’s very protective without being controlling. He makes her laugh, listens without interrupting, and treats every small interaction with her as if it matters more than life itself… what do they call it? Labrador something?”

“Golden retriever, dumb ass,” Trenton grumbled.

“That’s right,” I said, still watching her, still smiling at how happy she seemed in that moment.

Travis side-eyed Trenton with a smirk, wholly entertained with his discomfort.

“Sounds like us when we fall in love,” Taylor said, glancing over to Falyn. “For the most part. He’s probably the most like Shep.”

“Speaking of, is he wondering where we all are?” I asked.

“I told him before we left,” Travis said. “He knows it’s unlikely we’d be able to contact him once here. I let him know we arrived safe at the gate.”

Trenton scanned the compound. “Glad Mare’s not here. She’d hate this.”

“I don’t know,” Travis said. “She runs her house kinda like a military base. She might feel right at home.”