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He cracked a slight smirk.
“They’re comin’ ’round the bend,” Reese stated.
This was it, then.
Crew thought it was a great idea to hum “She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain.”
Shay came up to me and spoke quietly in my ear. “Is it wrong to be excited?”
“Yes, absolutely.” I smiled and kissed his cheek to show I was mostly kidding. But yeah, Reese and I had an interesting issue up ahead; that was becoming clear. Shay had always been the one who wanted to be useful and make a difference.
Coach’s haphazard offer for Shay to join Hillcroft was his way of testing the waters, and Reese had already texted with Coach to figure out what the fuck he meant by it. And Shay had subtly hinted he was curious.
Luckily, Coach was talking about a noncombat operator. In short, he was interested in talking to Shay about maybe becoming a martial arts instructor for recruits at Hillcroft. A position that wouldn’t worry Reese and me to death, all while…Shay would get a taste of the PMC life. And what if he fucking liked it? Huh? What then? He was young. He was the right age for those who left the military behind to join the private sector.
Darius’s snort of amusement pulled me from my future headache, and he read something from his phone. “Willow’s named our combat units. Renegade Unit 1—Elliott, Joel, Ryan, and Crew. Renegade Unit 2—Reese, Ortega, River. Renegade Rescue Unit—Gray, Darius, Shay, and Mercier.” He glanced up from his phone. “I guess we’re the renegades.”
I exchanged a wry smirk with Elliott, whereas Crew and Shay fist-bumped and clearly loved the name.
“Okay, that’s cool. I like it.” Gray was on board too. “What a dick magnet.” He sidled up next to Darius and jerked his chin, all flirty. “Hey, big daddy. Did you know I’m a renegade? You wanna come back to my place?”
Darius rumbled a laugh and hugged Gray to him. “My renegade dork.”
“All right, let’s renegade the fuck out of here,” Reese said. “All five cars have passed.”
CHAPTER 6
Joel Hayward
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I don’t wanna say goodbye to her.”
Fuck. I cleared my throat and swallowed back my emotions. But when Blake fell apart again, I couldn’t fight the tears to save my life. I picked her up, and we hugged each other tightly.
“Why can’t she be an angel later?” she cried.
I sniffled and carried her away from the gravesite. My mom had moved back to San Diego, once more, to be closer to Blake and me, and she’d gotten, what, six months?
Fuck cancer.
It’d happened too fast. My shock had barely settled before I’d had to bury her.
“You know what we need now?” I murmured thickly. “Tacos and movies and ice cream and not moving our butts from the couch.”
“I think so too,” she croaked. “And maybe new roller skates.”
She was totally right. We both needed new roller skates.
“We’ll make that happen,” I said, clearing my throat again. Screw this year. I didn’t want any more bad news for at least a decade.
* * *
This was that moment in every drug interdiction at sea before I had eyes on my target. I knew they were out there somewhere, but I couldn’t see them yet. Determination sharpened my focus, and restlessness set my body in motion. I bounced my knee, I drummed my fingers, I bit at my cuticles, and I rechecked my side pockets to remind myself I had everything.
It felt entirely wrong to let Carillo’s caravan of criminals drive so far ahead of us. But we couldn’t afford to be spotted.
