The engagement ring shimmering on my finger is a constant reminder that I’m supposed to be planning a wedding in only six weeks. I wish I could hunker down and iron out all the details, but I can’t yet. Not until I bring Kendall home.
Mason is seated next to me, babbling to a tatty board book that didn’t survive his eighteen-month molars as well as his teethers did. He’s still a baby, but every day he looks less like the fragile preemie I held in the hospital and more like a little boy. His hair is a wild mop of curls, and his cheeks are chubby and adorable.
I’d give anything to freeze time, to cherish these years a little longer, but that would also mean waiting even longer to bring Kendall home.
I can’t do that.
It is time to bring her home.
I rub my eyes, tired from waking up at 4 a.m. to make sure I get my fill of Grayson before Mason wakes a little after 6, before scanning the latest report from Crew. He’s been working with Grayson and me nonstop, and although I’ve said this multiple times over the past eighteen months, I honestly feel like we’re close to bringing Kendall home. Really close.
After Cameron’s ties to the La eMe came to light, we began taking female mafia leaders as seriously as their male counterparts. The intel has been shocking, leading to multiple arrests and the disbandment of over a dozen syndicates.
It is also what led us to India Dvoráks—a ghost in the system, but a woman as ruthless as any man.
India is the key to the syndicate that swallowed my sister when she was resold four and a half years ago, and although she is cunning, she isn’t invincible. We’ve tracked her through three countries, documented her burning through multiple identities, and now, finally, we have solid intel that she is on US soil.
Although I wish we could storm in and arrest her solely on hearsay, we can’t. We need enough evidence to take her down permanently, and we won’t get that without help. We need someone who understands the rules of the underworld and can walk into the den without getting eaten alive.
That person is Maddox Walsh, the man I took the rap for when he murdered the scum who had assaulted me.
He’s not a gang affiliate, not technically, but he is as deep into this case as I am. His fragile state all those years ago was because he was grieving the death of his unborn child—the child India orchestrated to be murdered since its birth would have had ties strong enough to run the Italian cartel.
For the past two weeks, I’ve been working outside the bureau’s safety net. I have tucked my badge away in a drawer, and my loyalties are split between the agency that trained me and the one that will get things done. I’m straddling the line between good and evil, but since I will always ensure my karma balance is even, the consequences of my actions have yet to bite me.
Mason jumps up eagerly when the familiar creak of our front door trickles throughout our coastal bungalow. He sprints for the entryway, shouting his version of “Daddy, Daddy!” with every step he takes.
With a squeal that announces my baby is a toddler, he launches himself into Grayson’s arms. A flood of euphoria heats my veins when Grayson catches him mid-flight before he spins him around the foyer while covering his cheek with sloppy kisses.
Grayson only left two hours ago, but you wouldn’t know that from Mason’s reaction. You’d swear he’s been gone a year.
My response to his return isn’t much better. I’m dying for the sultry smirk he gives me in the seconds leading to his mouth landing on mine. Things are still wildly hot between us, and thathas me unenthusiastic about my first undercover gig not under his command. I’ll still go, though, because the instant my sister is home, I will no longer be afraid that what I’m able to give Grayson isn’t enough.
I join Grayson and Mason in the foyer of our home. “How did it go with Alex?”
“Good. I’m on leave for as long as you need.” For half a second, I get the smirk I’m dying to see before Grayson’s lips brush the corner of my mouth. After breathing in deeply, he inches back. “Did you wash your hair? You smell like?—”
I sock him in the stomach before he scars our son for life, and then I spin to face the suitcase I packed in a hurry last night. It took an Oscar-worthy performance to get Maddox to agree with my plan, but by trusting him, I am slowly earning his trust.
We fly out in a little under two hours, hence Grayson needing approval from his superior to take time off.
“What did you tell Alex?”
It takes Grayson a long time to answer. So much, I think he never will. “I said you were going to visit your grandmother, who is unwell.”
He hates lying in general, but it’s worse when it comes to the people who love and protect us.
“Are you sure you want to run point on this case, freckles?” He uses my nickname on purpose, hoping it will hide the worry in his tone. “I can swap with you.”
I smile, wordlessly acknowledging my appreciation of his offer before declining it. “I need to be there.” Once I’ve slipped my fake ID and passport into the front pocket of my suitcase, I turn to face him. “Besides, you promised Mason you’d take him to the first game Lennox Jamison pitches. That’s this weekend.”
“Because I never thought Lennox would skip his final year of college to go pro early.”
I act as if he never spoke. “And I would never forgive myself if I weren’t there to bring her home. We’re close, Grayson. So close I can feel it.”
Before I can blink back the tears welling in my eyes, Grayson cups my face, and his thumb strokes my thankfully dry cheek. “I feel it too, Mace. It’s time.”
He kisses me, aware that no amount of devastation could keep me from responding to the love he portrays when he worships me. It is a blistering embrace that would usually have Kailany gagging like she doesn’t witness her mom and dad doing it a hundred times a day.
