REESE

chapter fifty four.

This Chapter Contains Content That Is Intended For Mature Readers

Reese POV:

"I was thinking about something."

Six pairs of eyes dragged themselves to mine curiously in the dark. The movie we had all been watching, immediately abandoned. "Thinking about what?" Rocco yawned, groggily adjusting the pillow he had been falling asleep on.

When I didn't answer, too busy processing my own thoughts, Rocco's breathing evened out again. At least until Pria yanked his pillow right out from under his head.

She shot him a warning look to pay attention as he sputtered awake in confusion.

"I should have thought about this before." I admitted, propping my newly cast-free legs onto Carver's lap. "But in the heat of the moment, I didn't think. We shouldn't have sent the Müllers a request to meet." I frowned. "They've publicly aligned with the Baudelaires and they're deliberately trespassing onto our territory assuming that our resources to detect them died with me. Those are grounds for war."

Rubbing his jaw, Carver released a short breath. "We're already at war." He reminded me. "Everyone is tired of fighting. Better to douse the fire and meet with the Müllers than to fuel the fame and add another empire into this clusterfuck of a situation."

The bitter truth didn't bode well with me. It was one thing for me to suspect that I wasn't the only one that had fallen from grace, it was another to physically hear the defeat in my family's voices and thoughts. "But see, that's bullshit." I scorned. "We survived, we're still standing, the Baudelaires are the ones that lost everything. So why are we the ones turning soft?"

"That tends to happen when you almost die." Nico's voice was riddled with brotherly concern and a hint of warning. This was exactly what I was worried about. You get hurt once and you're treated like delicate goods for the rest of your life.

"So...what then?" I narrowed my eyes at him, waiting for the alternative . "What are we supposed to do? Lay around and do fuck all? Because if it is..." I gestured at the way we were all sprawled out lazily on the couches. "...by all means, let's continue."

Shaking my head, I put my hand on my chest. "And before anyone says anything, I know I'm a hypocrite. I know. I haven't been going to physical therapy, I've been a ghost of my past self." I paused. "Hell...I stared at a wall for weeks. But, I'm bored of those walls now, aren't you guys?"

"You just started walking again without your crutches." Kenzo commented, making my face fall. "Maybe take it easy for a little while longer."

"She doesn't need you telling her to take it easy." Carver's voice was hard as he scowled at the assassin. "If she feels ready, if she's telling you she's ready. Then she's ready."

Biting down a smile, I nudged his chest with my foot, wordlessly telling him to cut it out but he just grabbed my ankles and squeezed them in response.

Four days under the same roof and Carver still hated Kenzo just as much as the day he met him.

Annoyance rippled down Kenzo's face, I could tell he was getting tired of Carver's constant admonishment. Whenever he spoke up, Carver immediately shut him down. There was not only a severe lack of trust between the two of them, I know Carver somewhat blamed Kenzo for being the metaphorical Harbinger of this week. It wasn't Kenzo's fault the Germans were now vying for our blood but Carver was associating the new problems brought to our door with the arrival of the assassin.

Plus, it really didn't help that Kenzo was a little too comfortable around me.

I guess that one was on me.