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He walks to the panel and I open the drawer to the hall table and remove the Glock I do more than keep on hand. I know how to use it and use it well.
Now that I’m armed and ready for trouble, Axe lowers his weapon. “It’s them,” he murmurs, unlocking the door.
I don’t know who “them” references, which is why I don’t return my weapon to that drawer. For just a moment though, I’m back on that golf course, when my invincible father tumbled to the ground. I’m leaning over him, and my father’s pale face and raspy breaths have me screaming for help that never comes. It never comes because he never had a chance. He’d had what they call a “widowmaker,” a massive heart attack that shreds the heart. So yes, Mia’s right about Eric being a SEAL and a genius, but I know from experience that even the good ones, even the strong ones, are not invincible.
Which is exactly why when Axe opens the door, I hold my breath, waiting for the enemy that I can’t defeat, the one that takes and takes and just keeps on taking: death. I’m not holding the gun to shoot someone. I’m holding it because I just need some damn way to feel under control. I’m waiting for bad news, and I’d welcome another enemy, one that I’d have to battle because I can fight and win any battle that isn’t death.
Axe backs up and the first person that I see walk through the door is not an enemy at all. It’s Rick Savage—one of the Walker men. A giant of a man with a scar that ripples down his cheek. “Don’t shoot,” he says, holding up his big hands. “I told Eric not to cut that wire, but you know, I’m just a surgeon, not a fucking savant, and he didn’t listen.”
“I didn’t cut a wire at all,” Eric growls, entering the foyer. “We weren’t there when the damn house exploded.” He eyes my gun and then me. “You’ve been hanging around these guys way too much.”
I’m just processing that Eric’s really here and okay, relief washing over me when Mia beats me to an outward reaction.
“Eric!” she exclaims, rushing forward and throwing her arms around him. “We thought you were dead. God, Grayson would not have survived losing you. I wouldn’t survive losing you.” She looks up at him. “You have no idea how relieved we are that you’re here.”
We.
God, I’ve missed being a “we” with Mia.
Mia gets to Eric, too. I see that in the softening of his facial features that are normally steel and stone. And Eric is not an emotional man. He’s not a man of many words. He’s also a man with a blood family that treats him like shit, but I am his family, we’re his family now that Mia is back. Mia has driven home that point—she’s affected him in that way she does everyone around her.
“Well then,” Eric says, “I guess I better come all the way in then, shouldn’t I?” He squeezes her shoulder. “And your man there needs to put away that gun before he shoots one of us.”
Mia whirls on me but she says nothing. She knows I have the gun. She knows how to use it herself, but I want her to practice. I want her to become an expert. I want her to protect herself in every way possible. I seal the gun back in its drawer, and Axe and Savage head to the living room. Mia kisses my cheek and follows them, a silent understanding in her actions that I need a minute with Eric.
God, I really did miss this woman.
I close the space between me and Eric and while we don’t hug, we do lock palms. And I go one step further and grab his forearm with my free hand. “You’re not a damn SEAL anymore. Don’t do that shit again.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Eric assures me as we break the connection.
My jaw sets. “Yeah, fuck you too, man,” I say, which is not a statement I usually make. That’s not how I talk, that’s not who I am, but that’s exactly why it gets my point across.
He laughs and confirms that I am indeed accurate in that assumption. “Point made. You want to protect me. I want to protect you. But the good news is that we feel like this is over.”
My brow shoots up. “You feel? Since when do you give two coins about a feeling rather than a fact?”
“Since we’re backing that statement up with facts. Brian’s dead. The Dungeon killed him. They ended him because they don’t want him to be able to talk. They want this over. They don’t need him.”
“You’re sure it was them?”
“Blake picked up a plate on a traffic camera near the murder. That plate belongs to someone he’s identified as part of the Dungeon.” The doorbell rings. “And I hope that’s the half-dozen pizzas we ordered on the way over here. Savage and I haven’t eaten in hours.”
