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I ignore him, giving all of my attention to the photo on my screen. My son's round cheeks. Her big brown eyes. Their matching wide grins. Evangeline sent me a selfie with her and Hunter.
In fucking hotdog costumes.
Amusement brushes against my skin, as light as the wing of a butterfly. It makes the corners of my mouth pull upward.
Their faces, in little cutouts inside the hot dog costume, the buns, the little squiggles of ketchup on one side and mustard on the other. The longer I look at it, the bigger the swell of laughter rises, and before I can stop it, it tumbles out of me in such a surprising flood of joy, I have to bend over a little to withstand it.
“Jesus Christ, are you okay?” Nova asks, a note of alarm in his voice.
“What's wrong with him?” Griz asks, hooking his thumb toward me.
“He's fine,” Bane grunts.
I straighten up, blinking a few times and swallowing down the last vestiges of laughter. “Oh fuck, I needed that.”
Bane strolls toward me, all forced casual with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He stops next to me and jerks his chin up. “What did she send you?”
I stuff my phone in my pocket and glare at him. “Nothing.”
He arches a single brow, the look loaded as hell. I pretend to ignore it and walk a few feet toward the road. I don’t know if I’ve ever been away from Hunter for this long before. I don’t think I’ve been on a job likethissince before he was born.
My fingers tap against my thigh, a random rhythm that doesn't alleviate shit.
“You good?” Bane asks, pitching his voice low.
I roll my shoulders back and still my fingers. “I'm fine.”
“Well, I'm ready for this shit to be done,” Nova drawls.
“Fuck,” Griz curses under his breath, staring at his phone. “Time to go.”
I look over my shoulder at him. “Why?”
“Shit went sideways,” Griz says, stalking toward his bike with his phone clenched in his fist.
Well, that's not fucking good, is it. There are too many different reasons for shit to go sideways and none of them are good.
“How?” Bane barks.
Griz lifts his shoulders and pockets his phone. “Dunno, man. Prez sent word they didn't get the package they came for. No one in or out on this end, so your guess is as good as mine.”
“We good, then?”
“Yeah, man. See you next time. Maybe I'll get to meet your nanny, yeah?” Griz says with a leering grin. There's no malice in it, but I bristle all the same.
“I don't fucking think so.”
Griz tips his head back and laughs before the sound of his engine growling drowns him out. The three of us watch as he peels out of the rest stop, flying down the street toward the little town.
“Let's go home.”
* * *
I open my front door,and the scent of baked goods hits me in the face. Warm chocolate and vanilla waft through the air, making my stomach growl. We made the decision to ride straight home, only stopping to piss and gas up. There's been a persistent itch of anxiety against my ribs the whole time I was gone.
I feel like I haven't slept in days, and I know once I lay my eyes on my boy, I'll be able to breathe again. The only thing keeping me somewhat sane was the daily text updates from Evangeline.
And that fucking hotdog selfie today.
