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dellsiming.bsky.social
Dell
@dellsiming.bsky.social
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I actually do really want to thank anyone that followed me over here from twitter

I know its been a while since ive shared my story and im sorry for so many unplanned hiatuses🥲

2024 has not been a great year for me so thank you for your patience 💛
“Ready?” Ren called down the stairs from the landing outside the girls’ apartment.

“If I have to be,” Lysander called back.
December 10, 2025 at 6:03 PM
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I love you. I’ll be home soon.”

“I love you too. Stay safe.”

Pulling away far sooner than Max was ready to let go of him, Lysander nodded. “Text me if anything happens… text me if nothing happens. Just text me, please.”

Max nodded with a giggle. “I will.”
December 10, 2025 at 5:45 PM
Wrapping his arms around Max’s neck, Lysander pulled him into a kiss, slow and soft, breath warm across his lips when he pulled back for air.

Hands on his back, Max could feel the tense in his muscles, how desperately he didn’t want to leave.
December 10, 2025 at 5:31 PM
He tucked it into his waistband, just as Lysander always did.

It was uncomfortable, the hammer digging into his back, the weight foreign, like he’d filled his back pocket with rocks.

Fingers brushed his jaw. “I’m sorry…”

“I know you are, Lysie.”
December 10, 2025 at 5:15 PM
He knew they were necessary, knew the guns themselves couldn’t hurt him, that no one with access to them would ever turn them on him, but… they made him uneasy nevertheless.

Even after so many years he could still see it so clearly in his mind, the gun that had killed him.
December 10, 2025 at 5:04 PM
In the months since he had returned, he’d done everything in his power to not acknowledge the plethora of guns that somehow surrounded him now.

There was one under Lysander’s pillow. One stashed under their bed, beneath the couch in the living room, in several drawers throughout the kitchen.
December 10, 2025 at 4:45 PM
“I know, baby,” Lysander murmured softly, “I know and I’m sorry. But I can’t leave you with nothing. Don’t hold it, don’t look at it, don’t think about it. But keep it within reach. Please.”

Slowly, Max nodded. Swallowed the lump in his throat.
December 10, 2025 at 4:31 PM
“I trust the girls with my life. I trust them with 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 life,” he amended, knowing that said far more than the first statement had. “If anything happens, you find them. This is your absolute last resort.”

Eyes fixed on the gun, Max swallowed. “I, um… I don’t really…”
December 10, 2025 at 4:15 PM
Turning the hand in his grasp palm up, he held it gingerly, seemingly waiting for Max to pull it away from him.

Reaching into the back of his waistband, he retrieved the gun that had been tucked there and placed it hesitantly in Max’s palm.
December 10, 2025 at 4:02 PM
Letting go of the belt loop he’d been holding, he took Max’s hand instead, pressing lips to knuckles.

“I need to give you something, but you’re not going to like it,” he mumbled, breath ghosting across the back of his hand as he said it.

“Okay…”
December 10, 2025 at 3:45 PM
“You’re not going to miss me then?”

It was such an absurd statement that Max laughed in his face. “You’re stupid,” he giggled, “Of course I’m going to miss you, Lysie.”

His husband sighed dramatically.
December 10, 2025 at 3:30 PM
“You gonna be okay?”

Lysander huffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t say it like I’m a stage five clinger or something,” he muttered.

Max glanced down to the finger that was hooked through one of his belt loops with a grin, but didn’t say a word about it.
December 10, 2025 at 3:15 PM
Ren and the girls went up the stairs first, voices growing distant as they chatted away about what the brothers had planned and how best to go about it.

If they’d noticed Max and Lysander still idling in the entrance, they didn’t pay it any mind.
December 10, 2025 at 3:04 PM
“You feel like a divorced dad doing a custody swap?” Miranda asked as she pulled his bag from the trunk of the Jeep.

Lysander sneered. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”
December 8, 2025 at 6:00 PM
With the girls, he could be sure Max was safe.

Safe and well entertained, his husband already laughing at the sight of Sasha bounding down the front steps of the apartment building as they pulled up.

“Maxi! Aren’t you so excited, this is gonna be so much fun!”
December 8, 2025 at 5:45 PM
He was staying with the girls while the brothers were out of town.

Lysander didn’t like leaving him when he went to the office each day, he thought he’d probably have an aneurysm knowing Max was home alone for the weeks they’d be gone.
December 8, 2025 at 5:30 PM
“Ready?”

“Ready!”
December 8, 2025 at 5:15 PM
In the front entryway Greg was stamping and pawing at Max’s feet, as if aware they were about to leave him and Aite home alone with Ren’s hellspawn of a cat.

“I’m gonna come check on you everyday!” Max tried to assure him, but the three brain cells the husky owned were preoccupied with being angry.
December 8, 2025 at 5:00 PM
“Packed?” Ren’s voice called as he came up the stairs to the loft, shaking Lysander free from his thoughts.

He nodded, waving an aggravated hand at the duffle bag he had just zipped closed, the bag disappearing, sent down to the car instead.

Ren paused. “Do that with mine too. Let’s get going.”
December 8, 2025 at 4:45 PM
As far as Lysander was concerned, this was his city.

If they thought they had the upper hand he’d snap their fingers.

If they thought they had a foot on his neck he’d bite it off at the ankle.

No one would push the Devil of Del Sol out of 𝘩𝘪𝘴 valley.
December 8, 2025 at 4:30 PM
Unfortunately, he was his mother’s son in all of the worst ways.

A Pickingill’s pride was more deadly than any man, more catastrophic than any war or plague. It took and took and took, until there was nothing but void, no way of fixing its follies.
December 8, 2025 at 4:15 PM
For a fraction of a second Lysander had considered disappearing.

It wasn’t as if they could kill him. He could pick up his husband and his brother and their girls and vanish to the other side of the world. If the mafia truly wanted his business prospects that badly, they could have them.
December 8, 2025 at 4:00 PM
“I want a good look at the inner workings of his operation, and then I want his head on a platter as an example for the other families,” Rosewood had ordered.

“His second is someone I trust far more for the job, so sit him in that seat instead.”

It all sounded so tedious.
December 8, 2025 at 3:45 PM
They were being sent in as envoys for the Rosewood family, there under the guise of assisting Daelan in matters concerning the authorities sniffing around some of his businesses.

The higher ranking families were apparently not the only ones to notice him getting too big for his britches lately.
December 8, 2025 at 3:30 PM
Daelan Thomas was their target, a young man who had inherited the seat at the head of the Thomas family when his father had passed only a year prior.

Evidently, he was too ambitious for the ranking his family held in the hierarchy.

Whoever sat above Harper and Rosewood wanted him gone for it.
December 8, 2025 at 3:17 PM