258. Rin - The Brid Clan 2

258. Rin - The Brid Clan 2
Yan throws me a questioning glance. I never told him what happened to the man who killed Aunt Ayita, but I killed him. I found him not long after Yan was kidnapped and taken to the facility. Even after all this time, I still remember every cry, every plea for mercy. By the time I was done with him, he was begging me to end him. I did. Eventually. 
After I killed him, I skinned him and hung it in the Fun House together with the skin of all the other people I’ve killed there. 
“Those who killed Mom and Aunt Ayita will never hurt anyone again,” I add. 
Uncle Yonah nods in approval as he collapses in his armchair. “Good.” 
He might say that, but there’s deep sadness in his gaze. 
But Aunt Karen asks. “Did you cover your tracks well?” When Uncle Yonah gives a curious glance, she says, “What? We can’t let the boy go to jail!” 
“The police won’t find anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I reassure her.
“Where’s Grandpa Takoda?” Yan asks. 
“He’s visiting a friend on the other side of the reservation,” Aunt Karen replies. 
The following hours are spent with my aunt, uncle, and cousins, getting to know Harper, Roman, and Emily. Despite the bad news about my mother and Aunt Ayita, they are very happy to hear that Emily is pregnant. 
It doesn’t take long for news about our arrival to spread around the reservation. Grandpa Takoda cuts short his visit and comes home just in time for lunch. 
“My boys!” he says as he sees us. His arms open wide, and Yan and I don’t hesitate to give him a hug. “God, I missed you so much. How have you been? Tell grandpa everything.” 
And we do. We spend about an hour explaining everything to him. When we are done, he thanks us for our honesty. 
After lunch, we put Harper and Roman down for a nap, while Grandpa Takoda and Uncle Yonah walk around the reservation, letting everyone know there will be a bonfire tonight. Aunt Karen, Emily, and all my cousins—fourteen and older—head to the community kitchen to help prepare the feast alongside the other tribe women. My blood-brothers and I get stuck babysitting the younger kids.
By the time the tribe gathers around the fire, night has already fallen. The flames crackle as we celebrate not only Yan’s and my return, but also our family. At the same time, we mourn my mother and Aunt Ayita. The men have cut their braids, and the women have shorn a few inches from their hair in remembrance. My blood-brothers, Emily, and I do the same.
When everyone begins to eat, I rise to my feet, wanting to show my gratitude.
“It’s been years since Yan and I were last here, yet we haven’t been forgotten. Just as my mother and Aunt Ayita haven’t been forgotten. Coming home wasn’t an easy choice. I feared we wouldn’t be welcomed. But I am grateful to see how wrong I was. More than that, you’ve accepted Mads, Steven, and Cirro as one of our own. They weren’t born Cherokee, but they are my brothers.”
My gaze shifts to Emily. My hand brushes against the small box I’ve carried for nearly a month, waiting for the right moment—for the moment my blood-brothers and I would ask her to become our wife.
What better moment than this one, here, surrounded by the entire tribe?
After I give the others the signal that this is the right moment, I take her hands into mine and pull her to her feet. 
A thousand thoughts rush through my head, and I realize I’m nervous.
I am the first to talk.
“Thank you for taking a chance on us—for not giving up on us. When you met us, we were broken in so many ways, but your love, patience, and understanding glued our shattered pieces back together. We’re not perfect; there are still cracks, and some pieces are lost forever. But it’s our imperfections that make us perfect for each other.”
We kneel before her as tears form in her eyes.
Steven says, “Beloved Em, being with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to us. Your love brought together five men who had lost everything. You gave us a family and hope.”
“A year ago, I was a struggling artist. I thought having a ton of money would make me happy. Spoiler alert—it didn’t. If anything, it made me more miserable, because it showed me women were only interested in what was in my wallet, not in me. But the only thing that mattered to you was family. You reminded me of what’s truly important.” A stupid smirk spreads on his face as he adds, “Since I have more money than I could possibly waste in a lifetime—because really, how many luxury cars does one man need—I’ll spend it all spoiling you and the kids.”
Emily laughs.
Cirro speaks next. “I never thought I was good enough for any woman, so I kept finding ways to push away anyone who got too close. But something about you was different—it caught my attention. You accepted me exactly as I was, without ever trying to change me. You saw me when no one else did. Falling in love with you was inevitable. Predestined, even.”
Yan is the last. 
He takes one of Emily’s hands into his shaky ones.
“For a long time, I hated myself. I hated myself so, so much. I didn’t think I deserved to be happy; I believed I was too broken to be loved. I spent all my time thinking about what had happened instead of what could happen. The more you reached for me, the more I pulled away, not caring that I was hurting you. I was like a wounded animal, lashing out at anyone who came near. Despite everything—despite hurting you, even breaking your heart—you never gave up on me. I love you, Emily. I never thought it was possible to love someone so deeply, so fiercely, so selflessly. You are my best friend. You are my home. You are my refuge. You are my hero.”
By the time I open the box, revealing the vintage diamond ring and ask, “Will you marry us?” tears are falling down Emily’s face.
It takes a bit for her to find her voice. “Yes! A thousand times, yes! In this life and all that are to follow.” 

PS thank you, Heather (shout out to the Deer Clan!!!), for letting me know of the tradition of cutting the hair when mourning for someone.