Page 72 of Sight of Fate

Guess I’m serving myself. I chuckle and get up to grab my dinner.

Macklin’s phone pings a minute later. “Elijah says Covey never showed at the grocery store. They went by her house, and a neighbor told them Shane surprised Covey with a last-minute vacation. They’re on hold until Covey returns and calls them.”

“She needs to get away from him,” Charli says, her forehead creased with worry.

Macklin reaches over to slide his hand over hers. “Elijah won’t give up. He’s one of the most determined men I know. And he’s fiercely protective of those he considers his family.”

Her shoulders drop a little. “I hope so. She’s going to need all the support she can get.”

As she digs into her pasta, Macklin turns to me. “Ames called. He restrained Mavros. Says he swings between reality and the facility.”

“He was in rough shape,” I say with a heavy sigh. “Hopefully, he’ll pull out of it soon, and we can get a lead on where to find Raine. How’s Ramiro?”

When Charli looks up with a puzzled expression on her face, I explain. “The panther shifter we found with Mavros. Looked like he’d been there a long time.”

Macklin’s face fills with anger. “He didn’t make it.”

Dammit. I send a quick note to Ronan to let him know.

Chapter Thirty-One

CHARLI

Shoving the red envelope into the drawer with my socks, I decide to wait until I’m alone to see what it says. Besides, I’m feeling too good to deal with the past right now.

My lips are still tingling when I get ready for bed. Lifting a hand, I trace over them. I thought I’d been kissed before, but obviously I hadn’t known the meaning of the word. Rushed, wet, and too much tongue is what I remember. Who knew a kiss could make you want to beg? Or ache with need?

“Damn it.” I forgot to do my laundry again. After we got home from the hospital, Macklin and I spent the afternoon relaxing on the couch, mindlessly watching TV. I fell asleep with my head on his broad shoulder.

“What is it?” Teague asks from the doorway.

I explain the situation, and he shrugs. Walking over to the dresser, he pulls open a drawer. “Wear one of my shirts.”

Peering inside, I spot a Kelly green one and pull it out. “It’s Paddy, not Patty, ya eejit.” I look at him. “What’s an eejit?”

He chuckles. “Idiot. Macklin had those made when we went home to Ireland for St. Paddy’s Day one year. It used to drive him crazy to hear patty.”

Macklin grunts as he walks in. “Wasn’t worth it. The number of drunk tourists who insisted I was wrong was insane. Even after I told them I was feckin’ Irish.”

I laugh at the strong accent he pulled out of thin air. When he slides into bed, I bite my lip, indecision warring in me. Last night, I wanted them both tucked around me like stalwart pillars against the big bad world. But what if I want to kiss Teague again? Is Macklin going to mind?

Kiss me any time you want. He won’t care.

I blush. With him gone the last few days, I forgot how easy it was to communicate with him. “I’m going to change.” Slipping into the bathroom, I brush my teeth and change into Teague’s shirt, leaving on my panties. When I come out, Teague’s standing by the bed in a pair of navy boxer briefs. But unlike last night, I can’t help but glance at the strong outline of his⁠—

He clears his throat, and I close my eyes, mortified he caught me. “Sorry.”

“I’m not,” he returns, a husky note in his voice. He pulls back the covers and motions for me to get in. He joins me a second later.

Macklin’s deep blue eyes are dark with intent, and I hold my breath, wondering if he’s going to kiss me. He reaches out and captures my fingers in his, pulling my hand to the center of his chest. “Good night.”

Teague slides his arm around my body to rest his hand against my stomach. His thumb finds the tiny sliver of skin where the shirt has ridden up and rubs lightly back and forth. I suck in a breath, but all he does is kiss my ear.

“Relax, sweetheart. Get some sleep.”

Rough carpet. Dust. The sound of Martin’s zipper. No, no, no. I reach, fingers stretching. My hand is caught. I scream, but I can’t get him to release it.

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re safe, sweetheart.” Teague’s smooth voice cuts through the fear and fog.