“He’s a good kid. Make sure you keep that one.” Harley grunts at him from where he’s helping Avery mop up the gore from the floor and walls. “She’s keeping us all, this isn’t a fucking competition. It’s not a trial to see which one of us is the best fit.” I scoff at them both and say, “They’re all a good fit. I’ll have them until they’re sick of me.” Illi grunts and grinds his teeth as he settles back in the bed to get comfortable. “I look forward to being the joint best man at your weird-ass wedding.”
