Kawan shrugged but didn’t answer. It wasn’t really a question. It wasn’t t like Thor was going to ask Kawan to leave Lark’s side. “So, shall we stop by that diner and get some of that sweet pralines and cream pie to go?”
“Seriously? You’re thinking about desert?” She stared with an amused look.
“I’m thinking about how much fun we could have with it… in bed.”
“What is it about men, dangerous situations, sex, and food?”
Kawan laughed. “It’s just in our DNA, I guess.”
“Right. Well, I’m not interested in that pie or a yeast infection.”
“A what infection?”
“Never mind.” She shook her head. “We’re not stopping for that stupid pie. I don’t even like pralines.”
“Fair enough,” Kawan said. “So, if that was Mina, and she turned. Who do you think left that envelope? And do you think Mina could be working with someone else on the team?”
“Fuck. That’s a mouthful.” Lark yanked open the SUV’s passenger door and climbed in. “She’s worked with Wes on a bunch of ops before. Both with me and other leaders in JSOC.”
“What about Alverez?” Kawan shifted the SUV into gear and spun the vehicle around.
“Only under my command, that I know of. But they got along. We all did.”
“If we believe the encrypted message, whoever left the envelope didn’t anticipate the shooter.” Kawan glanced at Lark. “Which means, either one of our missing operatives is feeding us something. Or Wes or Alverez is alive.”
Lark pulled out the envelope and ripped it open. She pulled out the contents. “A flash drive and a note.”
“What does the note say?”
Lark’s hand shook. “It’s Alverez’s handwriting. I’d recognize it anywhere. What I know is on that drive. So is how to reach me—if I’m still alive.” She dropped her hand to her lap. “I need a fucking stress ball.”
“I ordered you one,” Kawan said. “It should be here by the end of the day. Tomorrow the latest.”
She jerked her head. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “I thought breaking you of the habit would be a good thing. I was wrong. Besides, I couldn’t stand to see you claw your nails into your skin another day.”
“Thank you.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “I’ve been using one of those things for as long as I can remember.”
“Everyone has their own way of coping. Thor has always been into quiet spaces, like meditating or something. Lief and Sloan like running and fishing. Moose, he’s got his chickens. Jupiterhas his stupid video games. Drove me up the wall when I used to live with him. And you’ve got your stress balls.”
“What about you? How do you deal with it all?”
“Truth?”
“Yes.”
“For years, I didn’t believe I needed to. I thought living took care of it. All I had to do was put whatever bad shit happened in my rearview. But the first time Thor dragged my sorry ass here, I realized everyone needs something.”
“So, what, you just come to The Refuge?”
“No.” He chuckled, checking his mirrors for cars that didn’t belong or that followed too closely. “I keep a journal. It’s something Henley had me try, and it just stuck.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I don’t write long entries. It’s not like my thoughts are all that deep. But it keeps the demons at bay. The past where it belongs. And the ghosts that haunt me, from sneaking up when I don’t need them fucking with my head space.”
“Did you write in that journal about me?”
