The Home-wrecker (The Goode Brothers)
The Home-wrecker: Epilogue

Abby slams the side of her hand down on the thin board with a loud “Hiyah!” It breaks with a resounding crack.

“Fuck yeah,” Dean cheers quietly in the stands next to me.

“Good job, peanut!” Briar squeals.

I’m holding my phone to record the entire thing as she bows to her sensei with a beaming smile on her face. When she spots the three of us in the crowd, she waves while practically bouncing in place.

I wave back, making sure to look her in the eye instead of at the screen of my phone. I want her to know I was watching. When she looks back at her childhood and all of her accomplishments, she’ll remember us being here and cheering her on.

As they take her white belt and replace it with a yellow one, Abby looks so excited I feel myself starting to get emotional.

Everyone applauds, all of the students on the mat bowing together.

Afterward, Abby comes running toward us. “You are such a badass,” Dean says as she wraps her arms around his legs.

“Can we get pizza?” she asks excitedly.

“Sure,” Briar replies, taking her hand.

As the four of us leave the gym, Abby and Briar in front, I place a hand on Dean’s back affectionately. I don’t miss the way other people, specifically dads, glare contemptuously, but I’ve learned to brush it off by now.

Since Abby joined karate almost a year ago, the other parents have shown their curiosity every time we’ve shown up with our daughter. Sometimes, it’s just me and Dean. Sometimes, Dean and Briar. And sometimes, all three of us.

Briar says I show off too much, never shying away from holding their hands or showing affection, but deep down, I do it for the version of myself I kept quiet for so long.

I won’t change myself to make room for other people’s close-minded biases.

With that, I squeeze Dean a little bit closer.

As we reach the parking lot, I kiss Dean on the side of the head. The sleeve of my shirt rides up, exposing the large black-and-white angel tattoo on my forearm.

There’s a matching one on Dean’s arm. We take our angel with us wherever we go.

After pizza, the four of us head home. As we pull into the driveway, there’s a new Theo Virgil song playing on the radio, and I smile to myself as Dean and Abby sing along.

I’ve messaged my little brother nearly every day since that night, mostly with pics of Abby.

His new album has been a huge success, and I know this is going to mean a lot for his hidden identity, but for now, I try not to be the overprotective (to a fault) pain in the ass I was before. I simply cheer him on and offer support where I can.

The only person in my family who knows about my brother, as it turns out, is my mother, who revealed to me that she’s known his whereabouts this entire time. I can’t say I was surprised, though.

There’s nothing Melanie Goode can’t do.

My father’s case continues to drag on, but it’s a footnote in my story at this point. If I remember to check the news, I might hear about a new development. But as far as I’m concerned, that day he threatened Dean and Abby, he stopped being my father.

And the peace I feel now is astounding.

Like Isaac said, I’m not entirely free. The cancer that is Truett Goode burrowed its way into my psyche, but at least this cancer has a cure—the three people in this car with me.

“What do you say we do some renovations in the apartment tonight?” I ask as we climb out of the SUV.

Doing renovations is our code for sneaking out after Abby’s asleep and doing ungodly, filthy, and exquisite things to each other in Dean’s old apartment. Since he’s officially moved into the house, the space has essentially turned into our sex den of sin.

“Can’t,” Briar replies as she leads the way into the house.

“Why?” I ask.

“I have book club tonight.”

She’s been reading the same dusty old bodice-ripper romance novel that Sage has, and once a month, she attends their little Laundromat book club and margarita night.

It was her Bible study replacement.

And since her relationship with Juliet and her mother is still not repaired, we encourage her to get out and be with better people who actually lift her up instead of tearing her down.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” I say as we reach the kitchen. When we get inside the house, Abby bolts up to her room to play.

“What about you?” I ask, smacking Dean’s ass. “You’re off tonight, right?”

He gives me a sly smile over his shoulder. “I am, and I could be down for some renovations.”

“Not fair,” Briar whines, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Taking her in my arms, I offer her a kiss on her pouting lips.

Working out the boundaries and rules of this relationship has been interesting, and we’ve definitely hit some bumps in the road along the way. It’s hard to be in a relationship like this and not feel left out sometimes, but according to our new poly friends, that’s normal.

But, to be honest, seeing them love each other fills me with so much peace and happiness. I love to see Dean and Briar together, and instead of feeling jealous when they’re alone, I take such pride in knowing that if I’m not around, they have each other.

Of course, first and foremost, we carve out time to be sure we’re feeding this relationship the most. It’s the one that means more.

I still like time with Briar or time with Dean alone, but it’s nothing compared to the times when all three of us fill the same space. That’s when this love shines the brightest, and I feel most at home.

But if Briar is going to be gone for tonight, you best believe I’m going to indulge in some time with my sexy fucking man.

After pouring myself a glass of red wine, I cross the yard toward the apartment, where I know he’s waiting for me.

Opening the door, I find the room already dim, with the string of lights around the ceiling illuminated in a magenta haze. Dean is standing near the record player, flipping through the selection of vinyls.

He’s in nothing but a pair of black pants, and I lick my bottom lip as I take in the sight of him.

“What’s the mood tonight?” I ask as I set down my glass and begin unbuttoning my shirt.

There’s a scratch of the record through the speaker before the sultry, sexy sound of jazz echoes through the room.

“Vintage,” I say with a crooked smirk. “I like it.”

He turns around and smiles at me. Crossing the room, I slide my hand along his jaw, holding his face as I pull him in for a slow, sensual kiss. He’s been growing his hair out lately, and I love that I can run my fingers through it. Hold it. Pull it.

“Lie down,” he mumbles, his soft lips against my neck.

“Why? You got something for me?” I ask.

“As a matter of fact… I do.”

My brows lift as a myriad of possibilities run through my mind. “You have my attention,” I reply.

He shoves me toward the bed, and it does something to me when he takes control. “I said, lie down.”

With a growl, I do as he said. When I start to pull my clothes off, he stops me.

“No. Let me.”

“Yes, dear,” I reply as I drop onto the bed. Resting my back against the headboard, I watch him with lust-filled anticipation as he begins to unbutton his pants.

Biting his lip, he says with a wince, “God, I really hope you like this.”

I find myself chuckling. “If it’s on you, I will.”

He flicks open the button, and I narrow my eyes curiously. Then, he slowly eases his pants down his legs, and at first, I don’t notice anything.

Then, as he stands, I get a look at his underwear, and a whimper slips through my lips.

He normally wears briefs, and with his strong thighs and tight ass, they always look amazing.

But tonight, his briefs are special. They are black lace and delicate. They hug his cock and balls, and when he turns, revealing the soft, see-through lingerie around his ass, it’s so hot I could cry.

“Oh…baby,” I mumble as I sit up and reach for him.

“You like ‘em?” he asks as he climbs on top of me, straddling my hips.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, running my hand over the back, his tight little cheeks peeking out the bottom. “I think I’ve found something new to keep in my office drawer.”

He laughs as he leans down and kisses my neck, slowly sliding my shirt from my shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur, gliding my fingers over the crack of his ass.

I can’t stop touching him, running my hands over the lace to cup his hardening cock. The music continues playing as Dean works his way down my body, tugging down my pants until I’m naked.

Then, he lays his outstretched body between my legs and puts his mouth on my cock. Licking, sucking, and nibbling on my dick, he fondles my sack and even teases my ass as he brings me to the brink of heaven.

Staring at his perfect ass in that black lingerie, I come down his throat with a grunt, pulling his short hair as I thrust up into his mouth.

It’s just the appetizer for the night, I know. As he rests his face on my thigh, my cum still wet on his lips, I say a little prayer of thanks that he came back into my life. If it weren’t for that fire, I’d still be living in denial, bitter and lost. My marriage would still be suffering. My wife would still be unhappy.

Instead, his father lit a match that burned down more than just his house. My life, built on lies, was left in ashes.

But with fire comes renewal, and what we’ve gained is better than anything heaven could ever offer.