by Aly Martinez
A fresh set of tears streamed down my cheeks as Heath’s warmth blanketed me in a way I knew I would never lose. How had I gotten so lucky? How, after spending years of kissing the clock just to survive, had I found a man better than anyone I ever could have wished for? Maybe God hadn’t abandoned me after all. Because whoever had paved our pasts that ultimately put him in that gym with me had known exactly what they had been doing.
I sucked in a deep breath and held it until my lungs began to burn.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Yes. Utterly. Completely. Thoroughly. Entirely. And an entire thesaurus’s worth of synonyms more.
And it was only that feeling of contentment that allowed a smile to spread across my face.
“Yeah, but I have a question. You’re, like, eighty. Isn’t your biological clock ticking?”
One side of his mouth tipped up as he wrapped his arms around me, muttering, “She’s cryin’, but she’s still got jokes.”
“It’s a valid question,” I squealed as he began tickling me.
“It’s not a valid question, Clare. It’s you being a smartass.”
“And me being a smartass,” I confirmed, laughing wildly and flailing in his arms.
I stilled when his hand slid under my T-shirt.
I moaned when his finger slipped inside my panties.
I cried out when his mouth found my nipple.
Minutes later, I came with his name on my lips.
Minutes after that, he came with mine on his.
And then, just before my eyelids got too heavy to stay awake, he got our girl and put her in bed with us.
She promptly curled into his chest.
And I fell asleep without a single worry on my mind.
Two weeks later…
“But it’s January,” Clare objected, settling on the barstool on the other side of the counter.
She’d been visibly nervous all morning and spent a full hour earlier chewing on her thumbnail and staring into space. I couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on, but I figured she’d come to me when she was ready.
Using a fork, I removed one of the steaks from the marinade and set it on a plate. “It’s almost February in Atlanta. We’re basically a week away from summer. It’s perfect grilling weather.”
“It’s still cold,” she argued.
I cleaned my hands off on the gray-striped dishtowel Clare had ordered to replace Elisabeth’s pink ones. “So put on a jacket.”
She tipped her chin to the plate of meat. “You know I could pan-sear those and no one would have to put on a jacket.”
“I love your food, but you’ve cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day since we’ve been here. After two weeks, I think I can handle a meal.”
“But you’ve bought all the food, and Tessa new clothes, and…” She trailed off, biting on her thumbnail again.
“So?” I drawled.
“So I need to be pulling my weight.”
“I’m not saying you don’t. But you don’t have to pull all the weight.”
“I’m not pulling all the weight. I mean…I’m not sure cereal can even be considered ‘cooking breakfast.’” She tossed me a pair of air quotes.
I arched an eyebrow. “Did I have to pour the milk?”
She shyly glanced away. “Well, no.”
“Then it’s considered cooking breakfast.” I grabbed the plate and headed around the bar. “Besides, you put forty dollars’ worth of steaks in a frying pan, we’re gonna have problems. There’s one way to cook a steak, and it’s on a grill. End of story.”
She rolled her eyes as I stopped beside her.
“Now, get up here and give me a kiss, pull on a jacket, and meet me on the deck.”
She stood off the stool and lifted up on her toes to touch her lips to mine. “You want me to grab you a beer?”
I shot her a grin. “So you do understand the fine art of grilling.”
She rolled her eyes again. “I’m teachable.”
I chuckled before turning away and calling out to Tessa, “Sweet girl, we’re going outside. You want to come, or are you waiting on pins and needles to see if he can actually find the girl to fit the glass slipper for the seven thousandth time?”
She laughed loudly. “Dis not Cinderella, Heaf!”
I scoffed. “Oh, well, excuse me. You gonna be able to tear yourself away?”
“After he kiss her,” she said, turning her attention back to the TV.
I bulged my eyes over my shoulder at Clare. She was now in one of my hoodies and carrying a beer my way.
“Why is her favorite part always them kissing? This does not bode well for our future.”
“She’s a girl, honey. She’ll be chasing boys around the playground, trying to kiss them first chance she gets.”
I curled my lip and shook my head. “Hopefully, Roman pays well, because I see a private all-girls school in her future.”
Clare smirked and called to Tessa, “Okay, baby. We’ll be on the deck. Come out when it’s over.”
“’Kay,” she chirped.
I was contemplating how hard it would be to check her into a convent before preschool when I felt Clare’s hand on my back.
“Let it go,” she said. “I’m starving.”
Begrudgingly, I led the way to the sliding glass door.
“Hit the alarm,” I said, shifting the plate of steaks to one hand so I could take my beer from her.
After she disarmed the alarm, she slid the door open and we both walked out.
She started to close the door as I emptied my hands on the side of the grill.
“Leave it open,” I told her.
She continued to slide it shut. “All the hot air is escaping.”
“Babe, leave it open so we can hear her if she needs anything.”
“I’ll just crack it. I need to talk to you about something private.”
“What kind of private?” I walked over and caught the top of the door over her head. “Leave. It. Open.”
She narrowed her eyes and thinned her lips. “Above and beyond wasting money on heating the backyard, you’re going to freeze her out in there if we leave it all the way open.”
I shoved the door wide open. “Good. Then she’ll be forced to come out here to ask for a jacket and hopefully miss the fucking kiss.”
She laughed but gave up on the door.
I twisted the top of the beer off and went to work on the grill. “What’d you want to talk about?”
“Well,” she started at the same time my phone began ringing.
Tomlinson’s number showed on my display.
“Hold that thought,” I said, lifting the phone to my ear. “Light.”
“We picked up Brock Nolan today,” he stated as his greeting.
My back shot ramrod straight, and my gaze sliced over to Clare, who was lounging in the white Adirondack chair she had long since claimed as her own.
Nolan was Noir’s number two. He was one of the few men he’d trusted with Clare. Which was insane even for Noir because, by all accounts, Nolan was off in the head. I wouldn’t have trusted that scum with a goldfish, much less my wife and child. I had often seen him lurking around at the gym. And not just because he was keeping tabs on her. His eyes were always aimed at her ass or tits.
“He with Noir?” I asked.
Clare’s attention snapped to mine.
I pushed the button to put him on speakerphone.
“Nope,” Tomlinson said. “But guess what? The asshole hasn’t stopped chirping since we got him in custody.”
“No shit?”
“No shit,” he confirmed. “We’ve got units headed out to where he says Noir’s been hiding out.”
Clare rose from the chair and took a step in my direction, her hand covering her mouth as hope and surprise mingled in her eyes.
I extended an arm and curled it around her shoulders. “Keep us updated. Yeah?”
“Will do.” He hung up.
“Who’d th
ey get?” she asked immediately.
“Brock.”
Her body tensed, but just as quickly, she melted into my side. “Good. I hated him.”
“I know.”
“I once found him standing in the bathroom when I got out of the shower. He refused to leave until one of the recruits rushed in and told him Walt was home.”
I gritted my teeth. I knew this story all too well. I’d destroyed an entire office after Atwood had reported it back through his chain of command just days before he was killed.
“The recruit was Tim Madden, right?” I asked.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, stepping out of my embrace. “That guy was an asshole too.”
“He wasn’t an asshole. He was a good friend of mine.”
“W-what?” she breathed.
“Rob Atwood was his real name. We got to the DEA about the same time.”
Her mouth fell open. “He was DEA?”
I glanced down at the wooden deck, the pain of the memory ripping the scab off. “Yep. He was the first guy we were able to get into Noir’s operations. I was already under as Luke when I got word that we’d landed someone on the inside. I got a lot of my information on you from his reports.”
“Oh my God. I never would have guessed that. He was such a dick.”
I swallowed hard and told the ground, “It was his job to be a dick. But he was always looking out for you.”
“Holy shit. What happened to him?”
I lifted my gaze back to hers. “Tim Madden landed on the APD’s radar, so the DEA was forced to step in and leak his identity to get him off of it. We’d thought for a long time that Noir had someone on his payroll in the APD, but this was the final straw. A day later, Atwood was found dead.”
She slapped a hand over her mouth and gasped. “Oh my God, Heath.”
I shook my head and went back to the grill, opening it to find forty dollars’ worth of charred steaks. “Fuck,” I growled, turning it off.
Her arms folded around my waist from behind. “I’m so sorry.”
“I hope you like well-done,” I replied.
“I meant about your friend.”
“Yeah…it wasn’t exactly a good time, but—”
All further conversation was halted with the shrill of a little girl’s scream.
“Tessa!” I shouted, rushing past Clare and bolting through the door.
I made it into the house just in time to see movement at the foyer.
I couldn’t make the man out, but I knew that it wasn’t Noir. My body relaxed for a fraction of a second when I assumed that it had to be an agent.
And then ice fresh off a glacier flooded my veins as I saw my little girl’s bare feet kicking in his arms.
“Heaf!” she cried.
That was the exact moment every decent, law-abiding part of me tore away from my soul, leaving nothing behind but a visceral need to slaughter whoever had her.
My pulse spiked as I darted after her—after him.
I reached for the gun I wasn’t wearing at my hip, but I never slowed my feet. “Tessa!” I roared, pushing myself harder and faster.
He was slow—clumsy, even—bumping into the walls as he tried to escape. I lost sight of her as the bastard rounded the corner. Then I heard the front door open and my heart lurched into my throat.
“Heath!” Clare shrieked behind me.
“I’ve got her. Hit the panic on the alarm,” I ordered as I ran out.
The unknown man trudged through the grass toward a black SUV at the curb. I knew with an absolute certainty that, if he got to that car, I would never see her again.
I also knew with an absolute certainty that he would never make it to that car.
Her cries fueled my system with a tsunami of adrenaline that allowed me to gain ground on him.
His chubby arm held her around the waist, her head and her legs flopping and jarring with his every step.
My long legs swallowed the distance between us. And, just feet from the car, I dove, landing a shoulder at the small of his back. I did my best to break her fall, but she went crashing down with him. I landed hard on top of his back.
Slinging him over me, I got him as far away from her as I could.
She cried again, but this time, the sound soothed me. She was okay. I could handle whatever the fuck else the asshole planned to throw at me as long as she was okay.
“Go to Mama, Tessa,” I barked, wrestling with the man.
He was no competitor, and I easily got him on his stomach and wrenched his arms up his back until his fingers were nearly tickling his hairline.
He cursed in pain.
I kept my eyes trained on Tessa. She stared at me, tears rolling down her face, grass stains covering her clothes and face. But, despite the emotional trauma that would probably never heal, she appeared unharmed.
“Heaf,” she whined, reaching out for me, concern and worry aging her baby face.
“I’m okay, sweet girl.” I assured.
The man bucked beneath me, but I fisted the back of his hair and slammed his face into the ground, following it up with a knee in his back to pin him.
“Tessa, go.”
She sniffled but scampered away.
With her on her way to safety, my body relaxed and my instinct-driven senses gave way to logic and reason.
And that was when a second wave of panic hit me.
With the exception of the man on the ground grunting and cussing, it was silent.
No screams from a relieved mother.
No alarm screeching out in warning.
No sirens blaring in the distance.
Only absolute, terrifying silence.
It was wrong.
So fucking wrong.
“Tessa, freeze!” I yelled.
My ribs had still been sore, but I couldn’t sit at home anymore. I was starting to go stir crazy. The only time I’d gotten out of the house over the last few weeks was in order to go over to Heath and Clare’s to see Tessa. We’d been giving them time as I healed to settle in and adjust to their new life. Thankfully, Clare texted pictures nearly everyday. But it wasn’t the same as having her and Tessa living under the same roof.
We’d gone over to celebrate her third birthday only days earlier. It’d been bittersweet. Tripp’s birthday had been the week earlier, but watching Tessa blow out her candles was hard for me. My little boy never got to do that. It was a pain that would never completely disappear, but listening to Tessa laugh as she ripped wrapping paper open certainly eased the sting.
After that, I decided I needed to get out of the house more instead of wallowing in pity and fear.
Per Roman’s requirements, I was wearing a new Rubicon vest and Alex remained close enough that he could have been mistaken as my conjoined twin, but it was a small price to pay for being able to go to the grocery store and then have lunch with Cathy and Kristen.
Alex probably disagreed now that he had been subjected to being our chauffeur to lunch and then forced to eat sushi while listening to Kristen bitch about Seth for a full two hours.
Apparently, Seth had finally called and apologized. They went out again. Hooked up again. Then he never called…again.
Cathy spent half of the time informing her daughter that, if she hadn’t have ended the date on her back, things might have turned out differently.
Kristen spent the other half of the time informing her mother that it was Seth who had been on his back.
Alex spent the majority of the time shaking his head and groaning.
I spent the entire time laughing my ass off.
It was much-needed. After my incident with Noir, I’d been struggling with nightmares and anxiety. I had no idea how Clare had lived with him as long as she had and was still able to smile. I could barely breathe sometimes when the memories of that night ravaged me.
Through it all, Roman had been right there with me, holding me and reminding me that I was safe.
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Ethan. An
d it shredded me. Leo’s company, Guardian Protection Agency, had paid for his funeral, and Roman had sent a large sum of money to his parents, but I knew that that did nothing to heal the holes in their hearts. I hated the helplessness and guilt I felt about the whole situation.
I also hated that Clare, Heath, and Tessa had moved out.
I understood why—sort of. But it still stung. Clare and I had become close, and Roman and I had both fallen head over heels for Tessa. And, honestly, I even missed Heath’s quirky jokes—even if he did bitch about my food sometimes.
However, it wasn’t as though I’d expected them to live with us forever. I’d just expected that the threat would be gone before they finally moved out. I worried about them more often than I’d ever admit.
So yeah. A delicious lunch, good friends, and a lot of laughs were exactly what I needed after the last few weeks—or, really, few months.
“I’ve got the check,” Cathy announced.
“No. No. I’ve got Roman’s credit card. He’s buying lunch.” I leaned forward and whispered to Cathy, “Do you have any idea how much money he makes now? It’s ridiculous.”
She giggled. “Well, I don’t know the specifics, but seeing as to how I don’t have a house or car payment anymore, I’m assuming it’s extremely ridiculous.”
“Ah, yes. Here we go,” Kristen said dryly, crossing her arms over her chest and reclining back in her chair. “Roman is the golden child paying off all your bills, and I’m the whore.”
Cathy turned the mom glare on her daughter. “I never said you were a whore. God knows I have no room to talk. When I first met your dad—”
“Oh God, Mom! No!” Kristen exclaimed, plugging her ears.
I choked on a sip of water, my tender ribs aching as I coughed.
Cathy patted me on the back but kept her eyes on Kristen as she scolded, “If you don’t want those details, quit being a dramatic little shit.”
“Ms. Leblanc?” a uniformed police officer said, approaching our table.
We all turned to look at him, and Alex immediately pushed to his feet, brushing his coat back to rest his hand on the weapon at his side.
The officer’s gaze flashed to Alex for but a second. “I’m officer Marco with the APD. I’ve been sent to take you into protective custody after a break-in at Agent Light’s home.”