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“I’m not sure there’s anything to thank us for,” Luke sighs.
“How are you feeling?” I ask him.
He shakes his head, eyes closing for a moment. I’d give anything to never see such pain in them ever again. “Horrible. It was supposed to be me behind that wheel.”
“You’re not responsible for Marcus’ death,” I remind him.
“I don’t know how to stop feeling responsible, though.”
“Luke, the only person responsible is the fucker who set up that explosive device in your car,” Kellan says, squeezing his best friend’s shoulder. “And we will catch him. Sooner or later, we’ll catch him. My guys in the bomb squad said there’s enough trace evidence for us to track some of the ingredients back to a manufacturer or at least a distributor. We may have enough to find solid leads before anybody else gets hurt.”
Luke gives him a sour look. “That’s great. But it doesn’t change the fact that Marcus is dead, and nothing is gonna bring him back.”
“What about Charlene?” I ask. “Are you able to implicate her at all?”
“No,” Kellan says with a short sigh. Every deep breath still causes him pain, his ribs still healing from the stash house attack. “But I still advise caution going forward.”
Charlene did say that she never hurt anyone physically, and that should be enough of an argument in her favor. But she did fund brutal mercenary squads across the world over the years. By proxy, she is, in fact, responsible for the deaths of many innocent people. And if the guys’ suspicions are true, she is also responsible for the submarine explosion that cost Luke his leg and nearly killed all three of them. So Kellan is right to advise caution. In light of everything that has happened, it’s hard for me to keep a clear head and a functioning logic.
“I was thinking,” Kellan adds as he watches Helen put Annie and Miley into the backseat of my car, strapping both of them in. “What if Helen comes over to stay with you and the girls for a while?”
“What for?” I ask.
“Company. An extra person in the house can’t do any harm. A single mother with two children is a more vulnerable target, even with our guys watching you. I think Helen would feel safer with you, too,” Kellan says.
Luke nods in agreement. “Oh, man, I didn’t even consider that. Helen must be scared out of her mind, though she hasn’t said a word about how she’s feeling.”
The three of us glance back at her. She can almost sense us watching as she straightens her back and stands up tall before closing the door of my car. Under the timid spring sun, Helen’s hair looks like a spool of silver thread, styled smartly under a black hat. Her face is pale, her eyes puffy from crying, yet she still finds the strength to smile at us.
Despite all the recent adversity, this woman somehow keeps finding enough energy to put on a gentle face while my girls sit in the backseat, giggling and pinching one another. The guys are right—Helen needs us as much as we need her, and we all need peace and comfort.
I have to admit that having her stay with me and my babies for a while is a good idea.
“I’ll talk to her,” I tell Kellan and Luke. “You’re right. She should move in with us, at least until all of this blows over.”
“And you need to keep your phone on at all times. You need to let our agents follow you around—forget the pride, no stubbornness, and no little Miss Independent tantrums, either” Kellan replies with a slight chuckle. “I know you’re tempted to go at it alone in the coming days, but Avery, this has gotten way too serious, way too fast.”
“No, I agree,” I say, feeling my shoulders drop with a mixture of concern and disappointment. I would like nothing more than to say I’m safe under Wolfhound Security’s umbrella and with Kellan, Fallon, and Luke by my side. But it’s obvious that this formula isn’t as foolproof when there’s someone out there determined to kill them and do God-knows-what to me and my girls. “I’ll stay vigilant. I’ll keep to more crowded areas and I’ll make sure the agents know where I’m going every time I leave the house.”
“Good,” Luke says. “We need all hands on deck for this.”
All of this is so fucking awful. We were supposed to be working on our relationship after Daniel died, building something beautiful together, having a baby and raising Annie and Miley as a family. I was supposed to restart my interior design career, to develop a portfolio of satisfied customers, to find fulfillment in my profession after years spent living under the boot of a man whose sole purpose in life was to destroy me.
My men were supposed to grow their company and expand, to clean up Lincoln County of its drug and gang-related problems. They were supposed to focus on putting Elizabeth and Bill Cassidy away, to find justice for Maurice, Helen’s dead husband.
Helen was supposed to live out the rest of her days in peace and comfort, away from her wretchedly abusive sister and her equally terrible brother-in-law. Without kids of her own, she was supposed to find solace and joy in helping me raise mine.
And yet here we are, scared out of our minds, grieving and trying so hard not to cry as we bid a good friend farewell and watch another as she tries to be kind and brave in the face of extraordinary misfortunes. It’s one thing to deal with toxic relatives and even an abusive ex-husband like Daniel, and it’sa whole other thing to find yourself in the crosshairs of a cold-blooded, highly calculated killer.
“Avery,” Kellan says, breaking me out of my heavy, troubling thoughts. “We’re going to be okay.”
“How are you so certain after everything that has happened?” I ask, holding back another round of tears as I look up at him and Luke. Fallon joins us, dark-eyed and sullen but present enough to pick up on the tone of the conversation. “None of us are safe anymore.”
“But we’re not alone. We have each other,” Kellan insists.
“And yet we can’t even be together,” I scoff.
Fallon offers a wry half-smile. “You’re the one who moved out.”
