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He gets the tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows that means he doesn’t like not knowing, and finishes zipping me up before turning me back to the door and ushering me out.
“Tell me,” he says as we lock up.
I sigh. Of course he won’t let it go, and it’s stupid, and matters not atallright now.
But of course I tell him anyway. “I was just wondering if this was originally Sienna’s. It’s obviously too small for any of you.”
For the first time since Dante’s call, Logan’s lips twitch in that familiar, tiny smile I love so much.
“No,” he says as we head to the foyer to meet Maddoc. “Maddoc had it made just for you.”
“I what?” Maddoc asks as Logan tosses him one of the weapons bags.
His phone rings almost immediately, and I brush off his curiosity, letting him know that it’s not important as he answers the call.
Itisimportant. It’s everything. But right now, getting to Dante is all that matters.
Maddoc slips into the passenger seat of the sleek little Audi that Logan prefers, reviewing a couple quick details with whoever is on the phone. I have no idea if it’s one of the few Reapers who’ve been trusted this whole time with the secret that he’s still alive, or if word had already spread throughout the organization since Maddoc undoubtedly called in everybody, but either way, I trust him to do what’s best, what’s necessary, to get Dante out alive. If we lose out on the element of surprise when Maddoc shows up alive and in the flesh, we’ll more than make up for it by sheer numbers and fury.
When he ends the call, we’re already on the road with Logan pushing the speedometer to the limit.
He glances over. “Was Isaac able to confirm Dante’s location?”
“No,” Maddoc bites out, his jaw tight. Then, his control snaps and he punches the dashboard hard enough to crack it. “Why couldn’t that fucking thing you gave him include a transmitter?”
It’s not a real question, and Logan doesn’t take offense. “We know he was taken at McKenna’s house. Has the plan changed, or are we all converging there?”
“Nothing’s changed.” Maddoc clenches his fist, the knuckles bloody and the cauterized scar at the base of his missing pinky standing out in stark relief.
“We have no reason to think they would have moved him,” Logan says, his eyes flicking toward a landmark that I recognize as we roar past it. We’ve just crossed over into West Point’s territory.
“You mean, we’re fuckinghopingthey didn’t.” Maddoc scrubs a hand down his face. “We should have had people tracking that shit.”
But we all know that wasn’t possible. If we could have gotten our people that deeply inside West Point’s territory, Dante never would have had to put on this act in the first place.
None of us speak for the rest of the ride, and my terror over what’s happening to Dante right now starts to make me feel sick.
Or maybe it’s the knowledge that there’s a good chance I could die. A good chance weallcould.
I’m in the back seat, and I take a minute to look at the strong jawlines and sharp profiles of two of the three men I’m so fucking in love with, then I close my eyes, taking a couple of long, deep breaths.
Logan is racing us toward hell on earth, and wecouldall die, but I don’t want to, so I need to be as calm as fucking possible. And if we die anyway, I… don’t care.
My eyes fly open, the knowledge hitting me like a freight train. I don’t care if I die. Not for this. I don’t have a death wish, and yeah, I’d feel like shit for leaving Chloe behind even though I know the Reapers would take care of her, but everyone fucking dies, and I already made the choice once before to sacrifice myself for these men. It’s what love is, and I love them with every fucking cell in my body, every breath, every beat of my heart, every dark shadow and bright hope in my soul. I’m theirs, and I would walk into hell for them.
The certainty settles around me like a coat of armor, and when we rendezvous with all the Reapers who came to help get Dante out, it keeps me calm as we go over the plan.
At least, it does until I realize one crucial detail.
“No,” I rasp, when I realize that the whole point of the way they’re dividing up to go in from various points as we attack the house is to draw fire and provide a distraction while Maddoc goes inside.
JustMaddoc.
“We’re not splitting up,” I insist, my voice hard. “Wecan’t.”
It’s one thing to walk through hell for my men. I just made my peace with that.
But it’s another thing entirely to ask me to watch Maddoc go there without any backup.
