“I don’t follow.”
He looks up at me. “If he’d died, I would have never forgiven myself, yet I pushed away from him. It would have taken him passing for me to realize what a fuckin’ idiot I was. It’s the same with so many. They don’t talk to someone, they avoid them, but when that person dies, the first thing they say is ‘I wish I’d been there, I wish I wasn’t so stupid’. That brings me to my point. We’re stupid as humans. It shouldn’t take that shit for us to pull our heads out of our asses and fix shit.”
I nod, understanding. “You’re right,” I whisper.
“I got you to thank for this, Jaylah.”
“No.” I shake my head, sitting on the bed and watching them. “This is all you.”
“Wrong,” he says, but doesn’t go on.
His word is enough for both of us to understand.
I lie back on the pillow, exhausted.
“Jaylah?” he says as my eyes flutter closed.
“Mmmm?”
He hesitates, then in a voice so low I’m not sure if I dreamed it, he says, “Thank you, honey.”
~*~*~*~
MACK
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Maddox says, standing at the door, watching Diesel sleep in my arms.
My son’s warmth is radiating through my body, and every now and then he reaches out and curls his tiny fingers around one of mine. Breaking my heart with each movement. Breaking it because I was such a fucking asshole.
“Can thank her for that,” I say, nodding my head to Jaylah who is curled up, looking fuckin’ perfect, sleepin’ on the bed.
“She’s a good girl, Mack.”
“I never said she wasn’t.”
He turns his eyes to me, and they grow serious. “Let her go.”
I blink at him. “What?”
“Let her go, bro.”
“What are you fuckin’ on about?”
He shakes his head. “She cares about you, it’s written all over her, and more, she cares about that baby. You ain’t gonna give her what she wants, then you need to let her go. She’s a good woman. She deserves to be more than a fuckin’ bedmate.”
“Jesus, Maddox,” I grunt.
“You care about her?”
Fuck.
I glare at him. He goes on. “You don’t, you let her go. Don’t hurt her, Mack. That’s one woman who deserves more than just an occasional fuck.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I hiss.
“Then you’ll let her go.”
“And if I don’t want to?” I grind out.
He turns, looking back over his shoulder. “Then you’ll give her what she needs.”
Fuckin’ bastard.
He’s always right.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Dammit, why can’t I have an ass like yours?” Santana groans, turning and staring at her ass in the mirror.
I laugh, smoothing my tiny skirt down over my thighs. “Santana, you have a killer body.”
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t. I’m getting fat.”
I snort. “You’re growing a baby.”
“Still . . .”
I button up my skin-tight shirt and stare at myself in the mirror. “Is this too slutty?”
“God, no. If I had a booty like yours, I’d be wearing that, too.”
“I agree,” Ash says, coming out of the bathroom in a tiny black dress.
“Whoa, Momma!” I laugh.
She twirls. “Krypt is going to have a fit.”
“Let him.” I grin, releasing my hair from the curlers and letting it flow down my back.
“Krypt ain’t goin’ to be the only one,” Santana murmurs.
I turn, and they’re both staring at me. “What?”
“Yeesh, you’d turn a woman lesbian.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You girls are over-reacting.”
I step in front of the full-length mirror and gasp. It’s been a while since I’ve dressed up, and I must admit, I like it. My hair is flowing in loose curls around my shoulders and down my back. I’m wearing a tight black top that buttons all the way up the front, literally. I can open it or close it as much as I want. I’ve left the two buttons at the top down so my cleavage is on display. I’ve paired it with a short white skirt. It’s a little short, but it suits the top.
My shoes are black pumps, strappy, and fucking high. I look good; even I’ll admit that. I’ve got makeup on, but I’ve left it light and smoky, almost seductive. I breathe out, and then grin. “Damn, we’re going to have a good night.”
“You’re right about that.” Santana beams.
“How did you go dropping Diesel off?” Ash asks.
I frown. “It was hard, but she’s a great woman, and I know it meant the world to her that we asked if she could have Diesel for the night.”
“Tracy is really sweet. How’d you get Mack to agree?” Santana asks.
“I told him that he either gave Diesel over or he couldn’t come.”
Ash pouts. “I can’t believe the guys are crashing our girls’ night.”
“Protection,” Santana grumbles.
“Dammit,” I mutter, but secretly, I’m not overly upset that they’re coming. I’m looking forward to being around Mack.
“Well,” Ash says, adjusting her hair. “Let’s go.”