She smiled as the pain pill started taking effect. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” He tugged her forward to look at her back. “You have a couple of scrapes but nothing bad.” He ran the pad of his finger along the VANGUARD tattoo across her left shoulder blade before sitting her back up. “If you’re up to it, why don’t you raid the kitchen while I go find a spare tire for the truck? I’d like to be on the road in an hour. We’ll be in full light for most of the trip as it is.” He frowned, and those blue eyes darkened. “I don’t think we should stay put, especially since we have all the explosives. If the president regroups faster than we hoped, I’d rather be on the road than trapped here.”
“Agreed.” She pushed up from the sofa. The president would be looking for those explosives, and they needed to be safely behind Vanguard fences. “Go fix the tire.” They both needed to deal with Barbara’s death once they were safe.
He dropped a quick kiss to her forehead and then turned to go back through the kitchen.
She stilled and touched her head. Her silly heart jumped. Then she took the lantern and walked toward the red brick fireplace to the left. Framed pictures were stacked all over, showing the evolution of a family. Mom and Dad with three kids. Then grandkids. Then grandparents—just the two of them.
She reached for a pink funeral notice for Eugenia Flangston from nine years ago. Apparently, Mr. Flangston had been a bachelor for nine years. Sami rubbed her chest. Had he died alone in his truck?
She cleared her throat and moved toward the bathroom, finding toilet paper, lotions, and some over-the-counter medication that she put in a shower caddy. There were clothes still in the dresser in the bedroom, and a feminine vanity sat in the corner with perfume bottles still on top. Sami moved toward the vanity, feeling like a thief but curious. Who had Eugenia been?
Yarn and needles took up one drawer, while letters from Albert Flangston when he’d been in the service so long ago were stacked in another drawer and wrapped with a hair ribbon. Sami opened another drawer and gasped at a beautiful green rosary. She hadn’t had one in so long. She picked it up, and the beads felt right in her hands.
“Tire is fixed. You find anything?” Tace asked from the doorway.
She jumped and turned, her shoulders hunching. “This.”
Tace looked at the beads. “I’m sure she would’ve wanted somebody to have it, you know? Somebody to use it.”
Sami nodded and slipped the rosary into her pocket. “Yeah. I would’ve wanted somebody to pray over mine, if I’d left it somewhere.” She carefully put Albert’s letters back into the drawer where they belonged. “I’ll check the other bedroom.”
“I’m going to go scout through the shop for anything, and I found a shotgun in the truck with the body. There was a full box of shells in the glovebox, too. Hit the kitchen after the other bedroom, would you?” Tace looked her over, nodded, and turned on his heel.
She breathed in the quiet room that had probably seen the Flangstons through decades. “I hope you’re together now,” she whispered into the silence. The time of houses and generations and tradition was past. Families like the Flangstons were in the past. Life was different now, but maybe someday there would be nice families raising kids in a house like this one again. She said a quick prayer for all of them and turned for the other bedroom.
The living needed supplies.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sanity is for wimps.
—Dr. Vinnie Wellington
Sami’s shoulder ached and her head pounded when they arrived back at Vanguard around three in the afternoon. The pain pill had definitely worn off. Raze and Jax ran outside the fence to reach them almost immediately.
“Status?” Jax barked, bruises along his jawline and down his neck.
Tace stretched from the truck and crossed to lift her out.
“I’m fine,” she protested halfheartedly, wanting to snuggle into his neck and sleep for a month.
“Right. We had to stop to change the tire and then find supplies to stitch her up,” Tace said, his wrist bandaged. “Then we took back roads to avoid detection, and now here we are.”
The sun blasted down, and Sami tried unsuccessfully to swallow. “Did we lose any more soldiers besides Barbara?”
“We lost three total and the Mercs lost two,” Raze said, yanking a tarp Tace had found off the weapons and explosives. “Several wounded in the infirmary.”
“I’ll see to them after I get Sami settled,” Tace said, starting for the fence.
“I have inner-territory doctors with them. Right now I need you in the war rooms to strategize our attack on the Bunker,” Jax said, motioning for several men to fetch the explosives. “We go tomorrow night.”
Sami nodded. “The president will be sending men to retaliate, Jax. We’ll have to go before they can come up with a plan.”
“We’re done for the day, Jax. Sami and I will be in the war rooms first thing tomorrow morning to plan.” Tace didn’t wait for a response. “You guys get Barbara’s body, and let us know when Derek wants the funeral.”
Sami paused. “Oh, God. Derek. I should—”
