Logical, I suppose. “What is the Z for?”
“Xavier,” she says slowly.
Hunter places a hand on top of her head. “Vee, Xavier starts with X, not Z.”
She blinks up at him, not dislodging him. “Does it?”
“I’ll write it down for you later,” Hunter promises. “Right now, your time is running out, though.”
“Crap.”
“Olivia.”
“Sorry. Crud?”
“Marginally better. I’ll allow it for now.”
Olivia bounces across the room to the hallway heading to the bedrooms. “C’mon, Dax, we’re running late. I have to show you ‘The King of Pyropuff Peak.’”
The what?
Hunter
Oliviaissetupin the rumpus room with a hot chocolate and her latest movie obsession—something about a rabbit and a fox—when an alert tells me a car is at the gate.
Matthew’s car.
I message Six first, waiting for his confirmation that Matthew is in the car by himself, before opening it and allowing him in. They would have let me know if there was a problem before now, or they would have taken care of it, but better to be safe than sorry.
“Problem?” Xavier asks. He closes the dishwasher he’d just been loading, looking expectantly at me.
“I’m not sure. Matthew is here.” It entirely depends on the reason he’s here as to whether there’s a problem or not. Giving him space today was difficult for me for multiple reasons; the danger is very much still real, and having people watch him is not the same as having him within arm’s reach. And I’d like to know why he left without telling anyone. He immediately wentto his room when we got home from the docks, and there hasn’t been time to talk to him about any of it.
He’s had to deal with a lot of new things in a short amount of time, and it makes sense that he needs to decompress elsewhere. I just hope that’s all it is.
Miles opens the door before he gets there, ushering him inside.
Matthew nervously glances at him and stops at the kitchen counter. “Uh, hi.”
“We were afraid you wouldn’t come back,” I say softly.
“You were?” He rubs his forearm. “I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything and just disappeared.”
“It’s alright.”
“Not really. I didn’t realise until later that it looked bad. In a lot of ways, but mostly because there’s a psycho out there that likes to send people with guns after… other people.” He blushes, red spreading in a way that makes me want to kiss every inch of him and find out if it’s as warm as it looks. “That sounded better in my head.”
“We knew you were safe,” Miles says.
“Right. Yeah. That makes sense. You’ve got people too. Not ones you send with guns after people. I mean, maybe you do that. But not like…” He clamps his mouth shut and shuffles on his feet. “Sorry.” He twists his fingers together. “It’s just that I don’t know what I’m doing here. Why you would evenwantme here. And also, yeah, whyIwant to be here.” He stumbles over his words, then takes a deep breath “You’re all kind of insane, right? Like seriously crazy. Your whole lives are like an action movie, except it’s not fun; there’s a distinct lack of Bruce Willis and fewer explosions. I hope there are fewer explosions.” He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth. “There are fewer explosions, right?”
“Entirely depends on the day. Wednesdays are explosion day,” Xavier says with a twitching smile. “Tuesdays are for murder.”
“I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not, which really just drives my point home.”
“The point that we’re crazy?” I ask. I can’t argue with him about any one point. “Matthew, our lives are not normal. They’re messy, dangerous, and occasionally violent. The work that I do means that I live a life of secrecy.” I tip his chin up with my pointer finger. “I also do school pickup, enjoy coffee with a bit of sweet, have family dinners, do grocery shopping, and even go to doctors’ appointments. It’s a balance.” I can’t resist rubbing his bottom lip with my thumb. So soft, just like he is. A heart of gold that’s so different from ours. Perhaps he should have stuck with his first instinct to stay away from us.
“Balance isn’t the word I’d use,” he says weakly.
