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“Plenty of speed cameras in Andorra, just so you’re aware, dear,” Mercier drawled.
“Oh. Good to know,” Crew replied, slowing down.
Elliott slid into the middle seat, and I sat up straighter and lifted my arm.
He managed to smile a little and furrow his brow at the same time. I bet he wasn’t used to being taken care of. That ended now.
He didn’t protest, though. He leaned against me and sighed contentedly, and I kissed the side of his head.
“When we get home,” I murmured for only him to hear, “I think it’s important I stay at your place for a while. Crew can help us restore your porch, we’ll upgrade your security together, we’ll put together a memorial for Tariq…”
We’ll let Blake run around like a goofball, we’ll throw steaks on the grill, we’ll heal.
I’d already started researching psychologists specializing in PTSD in children. It was going to be a painful journey up ahead, and we should walk it together, the three of us. Then Elliott could comfort my broody ass when it was Piper’s week with Blake.
I had no doubt my superiors would let me take a leave of absence. I couldn’t imagine returning to work right away. In a few months, when I didn’t panic every time Blake left the room, which I knew was going to happen.
Elliott didn’t respond. He just wrapped an arm around my middle and squeezed me tightly.
I was certain. I was going to see my little girl again, and I was going to build my life with Elliott. At long fucking last.
I spent the next fifteen minutes scratching his scalp and taking in the night scene of Andorra la Vella. The city was by no means large. The mountainsides were lit up by chalets and hotel complexes, some apartment buildings too. We drove along a creek, construction sites, gas stations that promised cheap gas, booze, and cigarettes, and outlet stores. I got the message—this was a tax haven.
On a well-paved road dotted with little roundabouts, we drove through the city in almost no time, and then we were on the other side, heading upward.
Elliott sat up a little and wanted to rest his chin on my shoulder, so I gathered our hands between us instead.
“I can’t lose you again,” he said quietly.
I tilted my head at him and kissed him. “You won’t. You’re it for me, Jones.”
He exhaled, and happiness finally seeped back into his eyes. “Ditto, Hayward.”
“You’re so fucking cute back there.” Crew was evidently watching us in the rearview.
Elliott grinned faintly and rested his forehead on my shoulder for a moment. “That kid, I swear…”
He loved “that kid.”
“Boss, we’re here.”
I looked out the window, between the front seats, as Crew slowed down and veered into a driveway. The two-story house sat on a steep mountainside, with the second story at entrance level and the first farther down the slope. If they used this place to keep an eye on Carillo, he must be fairly close too, though I couldn’t see any neighbors nearby.
We left the car at the same time as a few men came out from the house, and I remembered Darius and Gray from Elliott’s barbecue. Javier Ortega too, of course. I’d met him before. The next man had to be Ryan Quinn; he shared a lot of features with his brother.
“Gramps!” Crew grinned.
Ryan shook his head in amusement and hauled the kid in for a hug. “You had us worried there for a moment, you brat.”
“Turned out, I was just meeting the man of my dreams,” Crew chuckled. “Adrien, you remember Ryan.”
“Vividly.” Mercier smiled wryly and shook Ryan’s hand.
Elliott was busy catching up with Darius and Gray, so I zeroed in on Ortega as he lit up a smoke.
“How you holdin’ up, man?”
“’Bout the same as you, I figure,” he replied. “The confidence comes and goes.”
