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3
Tai Kaholo strode through the front door of the renovated ranch house that served as Redemption Inc.’s headquarters, the soles of his combat boots heavy on the distressed wood flooring. His friend, and teammate, Bridger North fell into step beside him, the smooth rubber of his tennis shoes whispering in contrast.
“That went well,” Bridger commented.
Tai made a noncommittal grunt of agreement. The job had gone smoothly for sure. Helping the Carlsons fight off the sleazy mortgage brokers trying to illegally foreclose on their land had been super satisfying. Especially the part where he got to punch the lead grifter in the face. But it left Tai unsettled.
It reminded him too much of the home he’d lost long ago, the family that lived only in memories now. His mother’s musical laughter as she hung laundry in the sun. His father leading their old mare across the dusty yard. All gone. Just distant cousins left on the island now. None he knew well.
Kaua’i hadn’t truly been home since he joined the Marines at eighteen anyway. After the cabal of international billionaires behind the Consortium had run his team underground three years back, paying them off with millions in hush money, any chance of home evaporated.
But they were rising from the ashes because of Bridger––and Jane, Bridger’s fiancée. . Bridger had rounded up the team to help him save Jane from a couple murderous blackmailers. That first mission, their introduction to the little town of Redemption Creek, had ended with the team deciding to band together again.
All except Jason, who had disappeared, heading straight after the Consortium.
Though Tai and Bridger and the rest of the team had vowed to follow, Jason was having none of it.
No longer would they hide in the shadows, praying that the Consortium wouldn’t change their mind about letting the team be and hunt them down. Because of Jason’s bold move, they had a mission again. He kept refusing their help. As if they’d take no for an answer.
Besides, he and the crew liked it here in the tiny ranch town. The views of the Eastern Sierra were spectacular, the small town feel exactly what they needed. They’d easily acquired enough land for an excellent base of operations, and a couple spiffy aircraft. For his part, he had all the drones and surveillance toys he could want.
As for the rest, well, that would come in the Lord’s time, wouldn’t it?
Tai glanced at Bridger as they walked, taking in his friend’s barely contained excitement. The wedding was less than four weeks away. Bridger would have Jane and Kellen, the nine-year old they were adopting. An instant home and family.
While Tai would remain adrift.
Bridger caught his gaze, brows raised in silent query.
Tai masked his melancholy with a quirk of his lips. “We still have those tuxedo fittings this afternoon?” He injected dry humor into his tone, deflecting Bridger’s unspoken concern.
“Unfortunately. Jane insists we all match. Something about photos.”
Grinning hard, Tai jostled the groom-to-be with an elbow. “You best pray she doesn’t pick ruffled shirts. You know I can carry that off way better than you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“‘Cause you know so.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “It takes spectacular pecs to rock ruffles. You’re not even in the running, bro.”
Bridger chuckled as they turned down the hall toward the new workout area. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Tai sucked in the scent of new rubber and hard-earned sweat and focused on the prospect of a hard workout, grateful it would keep him from dwelling on the past.
Despite the professional flooring, the aggressive beat of rock music vibrated up through the soles of his boots. He scanned the large open space, taking in the various stations. Their cyber-security operative, Paige, waved from her perch on the elliptical trainer, her face pink with exertion. Their top pilot, Kate Hackett was already dripping sweat as she landed a jumping roundhouse kick on a hanging bag.
Their intelligence guy, Fenn Scarborough, was the only one idle, lounging against the wall with his arms crossed, watching Kate. As Tai’s gaze moved his way, Fenn shot him a crooked grin. “You just missed Mason. He tapped out a few minutes ago,” he said with a jerk of his chin toward the door.
Tai nodded, unsurprised that their taciturn personal security expert had already come and gone. Ortiz kept odd, solitary hours. Still, Tai was sorry to have missed him. He and Mason were the two strongest, and the best fighters. Their sparring sessions were legendary.
He could have used the workout.
Pushing away the flicker of regret, he strode to the chin-up bar and leapt, catching it with both hands. The smooth metal was cool against his calloused palms as he cranked out reps, letting the exertion clear his mind. The only home he needed was right here.
The rest—wife, kids, play sets and soccer practices—would come in the Lord’s time.
It pained him to admit it, but he was starting to get awfully itchy. Couldn’t the Lord move just a little faster?
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