'You are more than enough, don't change
You are more than enough
Don't let the demons get you down
You'll be where nothing can break you
When love is on your side, it's a beautiful life'
*BLADE'S POV*
"Oh no, fucking hell!"
What a greeting! I stopped dead in my tracks as soon as I opened the old creaky door, though it wasn't because of the 'welcoming' shout coming from another room, nor the bang echoing with it. Those were usual around here, and even the loud squeak following wasn't surprising.
What was preventing me from taking one step were the cardboard boxes everywhere around the entrance hall. If it was the entrance hall? Because except for the little I could see of the dark wooden walls and counter, it was unrecognizable.
I would have thought I was at the wrong address if a ball of fur hadn't been running towards me, and he didn't look bothered by the mess around as he jumped and weaved between the boxes to crash into my legs the next second.
"Meteorite! Hey, fella." I took the raccoon in my arms as the little bastard scratched my pants – not so 'little' actually.
He'd grown up more than I'd imagined, and I could feel the weight of the too many crackers Pete had spoiled him with on my forearms.
It was hard to believe it was the same ball of fur that had been shaking and bleeding in my hands six months ago.
Now, he didn't even flinch at my glare as his small paws gripped my shirt, and he licked my nose. But he still had those fucking little puppy eyes, and that was probably the only reason he still had his tongue, when most would already be dead on the floor if they tried to do the same.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it. You were worried, and you missed me." I chuckled, brushing the back of his head, a spot that still made him purr. A little bit more, and he would fall asleep.
But it was another beast that rushed towards us.
"Meteorite! What's the– Blade?!" Raymond squeaked as high as Meteorite, and even if the old man was less agile than the raccoon, he crossed the cluttered room as fast, pouncing on me with two open arms, and I leaned away before he could even think of pulling out his tongue.
"I get that the plan worked? Where's your girlfriend?"
"Don't worry. She's at her parents', and she'll– Wait." I stopped, mid-shrug, to narrow my eyes at his cheeky grin. "How do you know Dorothy's chosen me?"
"I didn't until now. But it was obvious. I know how to recognize love when I see it."
To think that if he'd told me those same words a few months ago, I would have been freaking out and probably have got the hell away, and now, I was sharing his dumb smile as I remembered all the times he'd pushed me to fight for her and even just invite her on a date.
"And why aren't you with her? Do I have to kick your ass for you to meet her parents too? As her boyfriend, you'll have to make a good impression."
Here he was with his 'wise old man' advice, a little too late though.
"That's already done," I replied, chuckling at the memories of the impression I'd made. "But she wanted to have a one-to-one talk with them while her sister was still at home too. She'll come after the Thanksgiving meal."
And it should be one hard to swallow for her parents if she and her sister explained all the truth. There was no need to give them indigestion by being there too, and I could wait a few more hours without her, couldn't I?
"Oh right, I almost forgot it's Thanksgiving! Nellie has baked some pumpkin pie, if you want?"
"Speaking of Nellie... Why aren't you with your girlfriend?" I smirked, not bothering to answer his question, as Meteorite was already squeaking for me, and Pete led the way inside, glancing at my cocked eyebrow over his shoulder.
"She's celebrating at her brother's, and she invited me, but I wanted to be here in case you got back." Like every time I was released from the police station. "And I had some stuff to finish anyway."
"What stuff? A house move?" The question was ironic as I pointed at all the boxes on our way, but I quickly lost my smirk when we entered the living room.
It was unrecognizable here too, even if in the opposite kind, as all the shelves were emptied.
"I'm retiring and moving out too, yes."
"What's the fuck?! Is it because of those bastards of Thorntons?"
Of course, it was. Why would Pete have given up this place when it was just starting to yield some bread otherwise?
I should have known it couldn't be that easy. Happy endings weren't for people like us, and even behind bars, the Thorntons still had something over us: money. So they wouldn't surrender.
They were like those bastards on the ground during a fight, when you thought they were knocked out, but they stood up the moment you turned away to attack you from the back, and those were often the hardest punches. I could feel the impact until my chest as I looked around the familiar room.
That was why it was always safer to kill your opponents in those kinds of brawls.
"No, no, it's only my decision." Pete grabbed my arm, trying to calm me down.
But if it stopped me from reaching for my knife, it didn't prevent the tension in all my muscles. On the contrary, my frown was even sharper. "How?! You worked your ass off for this place, and it's your whole life!"
"I know, and I still love it. But I'm not getting younger, and now I have other things in my life." His gaze traveled to the covered pie on the table and Meteorite in my arms before he focused on my face again. "I've found someone trustworthy to take over and make it even better."
"Congrats. That was fast." I forced a smile that came down before I even turned away, heading to my room to pack the bag I hadn't even got to set down.
Was I unfair to the old man? Probably, because it had been months I hadn't been in that house, and a lot could change. I was the proof of it. I'd planned to move out anyway. The pad wasn't mine, and Pete had welcomed me generously for two long years already.
But right after a night of torture at the police station, it was too fast, and maybe, I was too slow with the headache Spencer had given me.
"For fuck's sake, kid! It's you!"
I'd barely taken one step into the hallway when he turned me back to him, dangling the rusty pieces of metal in front of my wide eyes.
"Me?"
"Yes, of course! Sometimes I regret saying that you're smart!" he laughed, shaking his head and throwing glances at the raccoon as if they were sharing some inside joke, while I stared blankly between them and the keys, still not getting the punchline.
"I'm smart enough to know I don't have the money to buy it."
I didn't even have a job at the moment.
"I know. That's why I'm not selling it, but giving it to you."
"What?!" This time, I was starting to get it, my bulging eyes taking in the keys he was pushing in my hand, the knowing smile hidden in his beard, and the few remaining things on the shelves: a hook knife, bike gloves, and an old lighter, my things. But I was still as dumbfounded. "I can't. It's your bread and your place. I can't kick you out like that."
I may have done way worse in my life, but I couldn't do that to him, and he probably knew I was about to throw the keys in his face as he put both of his hands over my palm.
"You're not. Nellie offered me and Meteorite to move in with her, and I have enough money to live well. I'll help at the diner, and I was already spending every night at her house, so don't worry for me. It's all I've ever wished."
His choice of words pulled me a quiet chuckle, easing my frown just slightly, and the old gangster knew what he was doing as he continued with a twinkle in his eyes,
"This place's more useful to a family, with some repairs, of course. But I know you'll make it the best home, and you can use the part of the shooting range for work, maybe some wood shop, since there's still all the machines and tools."
He never gave up until he'd won, and he aimed for the final blow...
"Let me give you this great opportunity for you, Dorothy, and the baby."
...Right in the bull's eyes. The old gangster hadn't lost his tricks, as he pulled his hand away, after having knocked my breath out, and all the strength was leaving my tensed muscles from my unclenching jaw to my tight chest and my arms, while my fingers were left shaking with the keys in my palm.
It wasn't about the rusty pieces of metal in themselves. I had the same in my jacket. But this set would be for Dorothy, and as I closed my fingers one by one around it, the same fingers that I'd brushed over her stomach to feel the baby move one hour before, the cold metal tingled my skin like a great opportunity.
"I'll repay as soon as I can." I nodded to Pete, still too stunned to find any other sharp remark.
"Don't even think about it. I won't take any bill from you – nor scrap," he added, raising a finger before the bad intention could even form on my smirk.
He knew me too well. How could I even counter?
"But if you want to repay, all I ask is a right to visit from time to time to see the baby. You know... as his or her grand uncle–"
"No."
It was priceless, what he was asking, and the way his eyebrows fell down in a puppy look at my instant reply. Yes, a fucking puppy look, exactly like the raccoon's beady eyes, who stopped sniffing my jacket collar to stare at me, and between the two, I had to fight down my grin.
I'd found a way to get back at him finally, and after he'd left me breathless, it was only fair I enjoyed it for a second – maybe one and a half, once I swallowed the dryness in the back of my throat and let my lips stretch into a small smile.
"Not 'grand uncle'. Grandpa. You earned that title long ago."
Dorothy was right. He was part of my family. He'd always been; he'd always cared, and I wasn't an expert, but his eyes were gleaming like Spencer's dad when he'd come to visit his son in our cage, and his arms suffocated me in a tight hug like Dorothy's parents had embraced her, like a parent.
When I returned the hug with one arm, he also sobbed like a parent. "Fuck, kid, I love you. That's the best gift you could give me!"
"Don't get ahead of yourself 'cause there's a 50% chance this kid isn't mine." I chuckled, patting his back, as he wasn't pulling away, and between Meteorite's drool and Pete's tears, the hug was getting awkward.
"It doesn't matter. Step-grandpa's perfect too, and I've still got you and Dorothy, and I know you'll make lots of babies."
"Whoa, slow down old man!" I leaned away, only to be met by his twinkling gaze and taunting grin, which didn't waver as I explained a baby was a lot of work from what we'd read, and we would take our time and be more careful in the future.
Actually, it didn't falter through the whole 'Thanksgiving' meal we shared, his eyes only sparkling more when he served the pie, and I described the mind-blowing sensation of feeling the little badass moving under my fingers before he pestered me with questions about Dorothy, the cabin, and all those past months.
I was starting to think he had a zygomatic cramp until I wiped the last plate and announced I had some unfinished business to handle, the grin disappearing in his beard like the sparkle under his frown.
"You better not do something stupid or crazy now!"
"There's no way I'm going back to the slammer if that's what you're worried about. For the rest... I don't make promises."
Although it didn't ease his frown, it was the truth.
I knew I was about to do something crazy and stupid when I crossed the street, and even before I could glimpse 'The Drillin' neons, a familiar voice I hadn't missed reawakened my headache.
"What's the fuck 'he's back'?! I thought we got rid of him. His head's wanted all over the country! You sure it was really him? Why didn't you fucking tell me?!"
That was a lot of questions, and I didn't know if the two figures following him out of the bar could answer them all because they were whispering, contrary to him.
"If it's the truth, I need to beat feet before he finds–"
"Already leaving the party? What a bummer." Walking from the shadows of the wood, I had the perfect view of his body freezing and his eyes bulging out before he snapped his head towards me, just right there, so close... because of course, he hadn't checked around in his rush.
Only one person was stupid enough to do that. Only one person would try an exit 'under the radar' by yelling through the front door.
"Rye."
"B-Blade." The bastard imitated my smirk, but his facade was crumbling down, almost as fast as the blood was draining from his face, almost as fast as his little minions skedaddled. "You're back."
"Yes, it's really me." And not a ghost from his worst nightmares, like he was staring at me, paralyzed for the past minute – almost paralyzed.
I wasn't fooled, and despite his useless statements to distract me, I caught his shaky hand sneaking into his pocket as I nodded my chin there.
"And there's no need for your knife. I'm here to make you an offer, a friendly offer."
Of course, the bastard only tightened his hold on the knife handle, though I couldn't blame him. We both knew that even with my hands up, I would have been faster to reach my knife and attack him if I wanted.
That, if I even used my knife because, with two empty hands, I could already twist his healed wrist again and grab his neck in less than a second. Break one by one the fingers that had shaken Kenneth's hand and signed Dorothy's death warrant, while I choked him slowly, making sure he was conscious enough to feel all the pain.
No, I would definitely start by cutting his tongue and teaching him how to hold it.
"I'm not here to fight." It was myself I had to remind, as the words barely seeped through the tightening clench of my jaw, the tensions there already re-sparking the ember of a dangerous blaze.
You would think that after all these months, it had died out completely. But no, I could still see myself on my bike, full of hope for a new day before those fuckers crushed it with a simple handshake. The numbing rage and panic were as fierce in my veins, and after too many sleepless nights, they'd brewed with all the what-ifs.
What if Pete hadn't woken me up earlier that day? What if I'd passed just a few seconds later? What if I'd come too late to Dorothy? What if I hadn't even found out she'd been about to get arrested?
I couldn't imagine not being there to hold her shaky hand and even less what would have happened after if she'd been alone or only with Spencer to face the fuzz, Kenneth's gunshots, and everything else.
I didn't imagine it, shaking my head and even the possible thought away, and I rather pictured her this morning, surrounded by pigs, but the only bangs had been the ones inside my chest as her hand had been linked with mine, over her baby bump.
The bright green in her eyes was outshining any red anger, the tingles from her giggle overpowering the numbness, and along with the flutters of the little badass, it allowed my jaw to relax, enough to be able to speak again.
"I was on my way to announce it to Otto, but since you're there..." I slid my hand into my pocket, gripping Dorothy's lucky panties as I took a deep breath. "I'm leaving you the leader role."
"What?!"
Dorothy was right. Words were a powerful weapon, so much that Rye choked on mine, coughing to catch his breath.
But if I killed him with words, it didn't count as murder, right?
"You heard it. I'm stepping down and leaving you the role."
"And what tells you the position's still open to you?"
Fuck, he was still alive, as annoying as ever, and I had to grip Dorothy's panties tighter to keep my fist from slipping 'accidentally' in his lifted nose.
Instead, I just let my gaze flicker down to his jacket collar. "You're not wearing the leader's mark from what I see, and a little bird told me Otto isn't trusting you. And he doesn't even know his dear son is a backstabber who broke the Cross'code. Maybe I should tell him?"
It was almost too easy to take down his smile and more blood from his pale face. Though as fun as it was to watch him grow blue with terror, my focus stayed sharp on business.
"Or... I could put in a good word for you to get the role."
"What's the fuck? You're telling me you'd give up the leader role, the money, the power, and all the perks to give it to me? Are you fucking kidding me?!"
"No, I'm deadly serious." And I couldn't believe it myself.
Giving up this opportunity was crazy. Giving it to that bastard was stupid. Still, I was here, and he was breathing... for now at least.
"Let's say I'm feeling generous."
"Cut your bullshit. What's the catch?"
Maybe he wasn't as stupid as I'd thought. He could've almost looked credible as he narrowed his eyes at my crooked grin.
"No catch, only one condition. I'm leaving the gang, but I keep the Crossbones protection for me and my family, meaning Dorothy, the baby she's expecting, Pete..." My fist tightened around the smooth fabric again before I continued, "Spencer, Dorothy's family, and everyone around us.
"You're dreaming! It's not how it works. You can't–" He didn't get to finish as my hand let go of Dorothy's panties in my pocket so I could leap on him and turn him around into a tight hold with both arms behind his back.
"I can." I could also break his wrist again if he moved, and I could do so much worse. "Don't think I've forgotten the stunt you've pulled with the Thorntons."
Just in case he'd forgotten to whom he was talking, I snatched the knife from his hand and let the cold blade refresh his memory, slowly drawing blood along his neck, nothing much, just a trickle, as thin as the warning seeping through my clenched teeth.
"You're lucky Dorothy got by fine. But if she or the baby ever get hurt because of another of your sneaky 'killer plans', I won't be as lenient. It doesn't matter if I see you or not. In fact, even if someone else tries to touch one of their hair, I'll hold you responsible for it, and believe me, I can find many painful ways to kill someone.
So yes, you're gonna make sure they're always safe, if you wanna be too. It's a win-win, you see?"
I ended the second loop of the bloody B close to where his pulse was pounding, and I took his loud gulp as a 'yes', since he didn't add anything, his hand flying to his neck as soon as I shoved him away.
"Do we have a deal?"
He still had the choice, and as his gaze flickered from my held-out hand to the drops of blood on his, he knew exactly what were the two options.
"And you won't tell a word about what I did to my dad?"
"As long as you keep your end of the deal, yes, Crossbones' honor." I crossed my arms in the sign, watching him mirror me because once a Crossbones, always a Crossbones.
That was why I'd made sure Spencer didn't mention any Crossbones member in the article, including Rye.
Okay, it had been for other motives that I wanted him free, and never ever would I have imagined I would shake this bastard's hand and give him back his knife. Even less that he would walk away with his stupid grin intact and his tongue still allowing him to yak.
"I'm glad you've come to senses and realized you're not up to be a gang leader!"
I couldn't kill him... I couldn't kill him... I repeated to myself, even if I didn't lack ideas for a painful and slow murder after having pictured it so many times.
But now wasn't the time, when I'd just got what I wanted, and Dorothy would be here soon anyway. I had better plans for us than dealing with another dead body, and the smile that stretched my lips at that thought was much bigger than Rye's.
"You're right. You deserve it!"
I had my great opportunity, and he could enjoy his.
After all, revenge was a dish best-served cold. He would realize it soon enough when he would find himself frozen in this leader role, with a cold loneliness no bitch, smoke, or Jack would ever warm up.
While I would hopefully be snug in my home with my family, a little badass, and the hottest mess I knew, steamy in my bed with my Shooting star...
I had so many plans, and as soon as I'd talked to Otto, I walked back to the shooting range, or at least, what had been the shooting range so far. That wooden sign on the front would be one of the first things I would remake, and I already had a few names in mind...
I couldn't wait to tell them to Dorothy.
Did I miss her already, when it had been barely two hours since I'd last seen her?
Yes, so fucking much, and when I didn't find her red curls near Meteorite, they were still in all my thoughts and plans... Her bedhead hair behind the kitchen counter, where she would probably make a mess – where we would make a mess. Her soft voice singing 'Blue Moon' off-key in the shower. We would surely make a mess there too, and in every room, except for the baby's bedroom.
I didn't know which one it would be yet, nor what this little badass would look like, but I'd already scribbled some outlines for a cradle, with rocking legs and a stars mobile, if she or he was like their mom, and I knew the room had to be close to Dorothy and I's bedroom, which I had the perfect spot for.
Helping Pete carry 'a few' more boxes, my feet instinctively led me there, and I stopped with a dumbass grin to picture it, our bedroom.
Of course, we would have to take down the black and white circles, the booth separations, and renovate the walls and floor. Though maybe we could keep the soundproofing, and mostly, the bed would be where I was standing, on the third booth.
What could I say? I was a romantic for my Shooting star, and there was no better place for those green eyes to blow my breath away every morning like the first time she'd turned to me, for me to make love to her in all the ways I'd pictured fucking that priceless body since the second I'd glimpsed her, and for my heart to go wild like her gunshots when I'd told her...
"I wouldn't like to be the one you're picturing right now!"
Here they were... the bangs of my heart, more out of control than an automatic gun firing, the bad intentions reawakening in my dirty mind, and the breathlessness of my hoarse voice as I turned towards the door.
"No, you wouldn't." I let my gaze trail down the petite silhouette there, even slower than the first time as she walked up to me, and my smile was more shameless, as I knew exactly what that coat was hiding. "I'm picturing an unforgettable girl, my girl."
"Oh good, because I'm looking for my evil genie."
Dorothy stopped in front of me, just when my eyes reached her blushing face, letting me catch all these details I would never get tired of: her cheeky smile, the infinite freckles growing brighter under my gaze, her puffy eyelids – No, this last detail wasn't something I would ever like, and my frown reappeared as fast as my murderous instincts.
"How did it go?"
"Fine... I guess. It was a lot to talk about and also a lot of tears, but don't worry, it was good tears." She smiled, grabbing the finger I brushed lightly over her eyelids to dive her gaze into mine. "I'm fine now."
I was too, and this woman was the only person who could soothe my murderous impulses so quickly and make me grin so foolishly.
"Good tears? Does that mean you need some sweets? 'Cause we've kept some of Nellie's pie for you."
"Of course! We always need sweet." She glanced down at my hand resting over her belly, her smile becoming a mix of purity and deviousness as she nibbled on it and tickled my own hunger. "By the way, are Pete and Meteorite there too? I didn't see them."
"Yes, they're here." But I wouldn't let that little fucker of raccoon steal all her kisses, and I was already leaning my head down when–
"And what are all the boxes in the entrance?"
"Oh, you noticed, inspector Dorothea?" I chuckled, as I couldn't even be mad she was pulling away when she looked at me with these doe eyes, the crease between her eyebrows so different from the ones I'd seen in interrogation rooms.
No cop could pierce through me as easily as her green gaze, nor make my stomach do those backflips.
"It's because this place's becoming a woodshop."
"What? Why? How? When? Who?" She fired the questions breathlessly, her eyes probably as wide as mine when Pete's had announced the news to me.
Yet I didn't give her time to storm off like I had, explaining without even taking a breath, "Pete's retiring and moving out with Nellie, so he's leaving me– leaving us the place, if you want?"
Exactly like on our first encounter, I held out my palm for her.
Except this time, it wasn't empty. The small item was waiting there just for her, like the plans I'd made, my thumping heart, and my destiny. They were all hanging on her gaze that flickered down there and the tip of her fingers as she slowly hovered them over, my nerve endings already tingling in anticipation.
The sparks in the diminishing inches separating our skins were also fiercer, as the stakes were higher.
Okay, maybe the stakes had been the same, but at the time, I hadn't realized how much my life could change if she took my hand, and that had surely been why I'd been so confident in my arguments.
Now, the thuds of my heart were echoing from my throat to my chest to remind me of what would happen if she refused, what could happen if she accepted.
"Move in with me? We could live–" Happily ever after.
She didn't take my hand this time, the keys ending on the floor with a clink as she jumped at my neck, crashing on my lips like... a Shooting star.
My Shooting star. A hot mess so fast and so rare that if you blinked, you could miss her. But she could also make all your wishes come true, and that was what she did as she kissed me passionately, these cherry, plump lips making magic on mine.
I could see and feel all the plans I'd dreamed of within reach... The mess we would undoubtedly leave in this room in a few minutes as I lifted her in my arms, her legs wrapping tight around my waist, and my hands gripping her priceless butt. But also all the messes we would make in our life together as she giggled on my lips.
"Yes, yes, yes! I love you so much my evil genie!"
Everything was possible in this instant, even a happy ending for our own fairytale. Not a fairytale with a princess and a prince charming. No, this one had started once upon a time... when a murderer had stumbled upon the girl with a gun in her hand.
"I love you more, Dorothea."
Yes, Blade, I always write happy endings, even for you and your Shooting star 😉✨
Who's crying with me and Pete? 😭😭 Who's missed Meteorite? 🥺🤩
I think this chapter is one of my favorites (and it's also the last one before the epilogue 😭).
Pete has gained the official 'Grandpa' title, and Blade has his happy ending and his revenge, well, he will 😈✨ Did you expect this kind of revenge from him? He's really changing for his Shooting star and the little badass 🥺❤️
Also, what do you think the wood shop will be called? 😉
Tell me all your thoughts in the comments, and don't forget to vote ⭐ if you liked it!
I can't believe there's only the epilogue left! I know I started this story more than 1 year and a half ago, but it feels like yesterday, and I'm so not ready to let my babies go 🤧🤧 I think we'll need more tissues for the epilogue!
In the meantime, keep shining my little Shooting stars 😘💕✨🌠