“Am I fucking dying?”
I looked at him like he’d lost his damn mind and he said, “I’ve never known you not to rag on me about my age.”
I shrugged. “Considering I left you alone with two protectees, and you’re lying there busted up while Kit Kat and Jackson are…”
“Stop right there. You’re not to blame. The only thing that would change had you been in the SUV with us would be you laid up, too. Oh, and leaving the rest of us to deal with Declan being a total mess. We’ve gone through that once. That was enough, thanks.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you toppled out of that chopper, they called him. He was struggling already with the break-up…”
“Yet another…”
“Also, not all on your shoulders. Declan screwed the pooch with how he handled bringing you into the fold. Being a Holt, being married to a Holt, it’s not for the faint of heart. I get what he was trying to do, especially after we all learned about Mara and her antics, but he needed to be honest with you once you guys decided to turn the drunken wedding into an actual marriage.”
I swallowed. None of the family had spoken to me about what went down and how they felt about what happened three years ago. Well, other than them working to get Declan and me back together.
“I didn’t handle that shit well either.”
“No, you didn’t, but a man tossed over by someone who is supposed to love him due to his heritage, skin color, lack of money, and social standing should be allowed some grace when confronted by the racist bitch in his husband’s home, especially when she knows he married into wealth and he doesn’t.”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
“That’s not to say I didn’t wanna kick your fucking ass after it happened. You’ll find we Holts are a protective bunch.”
“Then why are we sitting here?”
“Because chasing after that van would have put Katie and Jackson in an extreme amount of danger. They’d already proven they had no qualms shooting Jackson and that bitch is vindictive enough to kill Katie despite what Caleb wants. Plus, the plan has always been if they got taken to go in dark and pull them out while capturing the enemy.”
“And why haven’t we done that?”
“The trackers are dead, and we can’t find the van. Cato’s got imaging software running, but they ambushed us in the perfect spot. There wasn’t a fucking camera for miles.”
“Whose stupid idea was it to rely on trackers?”
“Mine, Walker’s, and the admiral’s.”
“It was a shitty idea.”
Foster burst out laughing. “Believe me. As SEALs and a Marine Raider, not to mention a grandfather, father, and uncle, we’re very aware our plan sucked, but it was all we had. And our wives all agree with you. If anyone ever thinks the Holts are scary, they should meet the people willing to take our asses on. The spouses are even scarier because they saddle this horse to ride.”
I chuckled, but sobered, thinking of Marcie.
“She’ll get there. She’s just scared.”
I nodded, checked we were alone. Deciding not to chance being overheard, I shut the door and sat in the armchair across from him. After chewing my lip raw, I asked a question of him that I didn’t have the guts to bring up with Declan. At least not yet.
“How’s the trust work?”
“Why? Lemme rephrase that. Were you wondering about her or any future kids? Because you’re legally married to Declan, you’re automatically in. Lucas has accounts set up for you already, and frankly has acted like the biggest fucking brat there is about not being able to go over shit with you.”
I wasn’t ready to touch that with a ten-foot pole. “Marcie and any possible kids.”
Foster smirked. “Lucas will be relieved that you’re not chomping at the bit to get at the cash.”
“But you just said…”
“Uncle Lucas is weird. What can I say? He wants to add you but doesn’t want you to want it. If you want it, it’s a red flag that you’re after the money and don’t give a damn about the man you married to get to it.”
