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I’d call her when we got to Europe. We didn’t want anyone to trace our activity to South America.
I shouldn’t have turned it on in the first place, but I’d just needed to see my lock screen photo of Blake and me for a second.
A few more days, baby. Daddy’s coming for you. I promise.
River and Shay were next to trail into the common room, with River supporting himself on a crutch. I guessed they were used to handling injuries in this place. They collapsed down onto the couch next to mine, and Danny soon followed.
I rubbed my right ear, the one where the ringing sound bothered me the most.
The room was divided into three seating areas with mismatched couches and one corner with a pool table and dart board. No pictures on the walls. No Hillcroft logo anywhere. No training stats or records listed on a fancy wooden board. Nothing that could identify anyone.
“I wanna sleep for a week,” Shay mumbled, cuddling up against River.
I swallowed hard and cracked my knuckles absently. I’d had this pressure building up in my chest since we’d stepped out of the helicopter. I knew why too. Because we were standing still. We weren’t doing anything. We weren’t on the next flight to Europe.
Coach returned, wheeling in a whiteboard.
That was good, right? We’d get to work and dosomething. I couldn’t handle another bonfire nostalgia trip.
Danny yawned and kicked up his feet on a coffee table. “Are we gonna compare whose gold loot is the biggest?”
River grinned sleepily.
Coach chuckled. “I don’t think anyone can beat River in that arena.”
“Wait.” Shay sat up straighter. “That’s actually a thing you all do? Because River and Reese freaking emptied Luca’s desk. Mostly River.”
“Good to hear they listen to me sometimes,” Danny chuckled. “And fuck yeah, defund the cartels.”
“Amen,” River murmured.
I mustered a faint smirk. “Elliott did his part too. So did I, I guess.”
“Attaboy.” Danny smiled lazily. “We take what we can when we can, and we split it with those who helped out but couldn’t be there.”
I liked that. Most of the time, front-liners had teams of people helping in the background.
“Who wants pizza?” Reese’s booming voice echoed down the hall, and Danny sat up straighter and rubbed his hands together.
“My body is ready—bring it!” he hollered.
Reese and Elliott soon appeared, and the former was pushing an industrial serving cart with several homemade pizzas. The square kind, seemingly thick crust, and dripping in melted cheese.
My stomach snarled and tightened, happy to remind me I hadn’t eaten since Danny, Reese, and I had been stuck in the back of that delivery truck.
Elliott tossed us bottled water, and I caught one with a nod of thanks.
Within seconds, the room smelled of oregano and cheese, and everyone’s spirits lifted.
Before I could even get off the couch, Elliott grabbed one of the oven trays and sat down next to me, and he told me to dig in.
He always stayed so fucking close to me, and he always wanted me to go to hell. He loved to tell me I didn’t know what I was doing, that I should crawl before I walked, that I was in the fucking way and whatever. So why was he here? Why wasn’t he sharing Danny’s couch? Or Coach’s? Why did he hate me so goddamn much?
Granted, I hadn’t made it easy for him at first. When Piper had told me he’d given his ex-wife a second chance, it’d fucking broken me. I’d been walking around for almost a year, thinking he was gonna call soon. Thinking we’d finally get our shot. Fucking hell, I’d been happy. Then everything had gone to shit. My future had disappeared with a by-the-way type of comment from Piper when she and I had been on our way out. We were gonna take Blake to the zoo.
“Oh, I talked to Elliott, by the way. He’s trying to patch things up with Lizzie. Isn’t that great?”
I still remembered how I’d felt all the blood drain from my face. How my stomach had dropped. My chest had squeezed and tightened.
