I really am scared out of my fucking tits.
We leave the safe house at seven. The sun has already sunk behind the mountains, casting everything in moonlit shadows, but I barely acknowledge our surroundings because I’m too busy trying not to vomit.
Me, the guy with the iron gut who’s run into battles, toward bullets, fires, and even a damn exploding building to save strangers.
But you put me with the one person who means more than my own life, and I can’t even load my gun without dropping the bullets—something that had worry etched deeply into Sterling’s face as he watched me.
Clover rides in an SUV with me. Grant, Sterling, and Chase follow in another vehicle. Chief insisted on coming, despite Roman’s protests, and is riding with the cousins. I’m sure he’s worried about one of us doing something stupid.
Smart man. It’s a much different war when your entire heart is at stake.
Against Wrecks’s whined protests, we left him behind at the safe house. I only hope the building is still standing when we return.
Roman left to meet his team an hour ago. His guys have been in position for hours, holding steady, ready for any and all signs of life. The motion sensors have been calibrated, and cameras are recording from all three hundred and sixty degrees.
We’ve turned the clearing around our tree into a fortress disguised as wilderness, yet I can’t stop the sinking sensation that it isn’t enough.
“Stop thinking so loudly,” Clover says softly.
I glance over at her, but she’s still staring blankly out the window with her hands folded neatly in her lap. She’s perfectly still except for her right foot that’s tapping against the floorboards.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“I’m scared.” Her words barely kiss the air.
“I know, baby,” I say, and she finally turns her honey-colored eyes my way. “But I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
“I always have, Valen. That’s never been in question. I trust all of you.” Once again, she finds Grant’s car in the side mirror. Chase, who’s in the passenger seat, gives her a thumbs-up as if he’s been waiting for her to seek them out again. It gives my fear a momentary reprieve.
They’ll protect her with everything they have.
“It’s her I don’t trust.” Clover’s voice wavers between rage and fear.
No one can trust the woman who birthed me. Least of all Clover.
“That’s good, Honeybee. We can’t trust anything she says.”
She holds out her hand, palm up, and I meet her halfway. “But we can trust Roman’s guys. Grant’s planning. You. You won’t let her hurt us.” She sounds so confident, I do a double take.
Even with our history, she has a faith in me I’m not sure I deserve. It floors me. Guts me. And rebuilds me into someone worthy of that kind of trust.
“Damn right, I won’t.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Then we’ll be fine.”
If only I could have half her faith.
The drive to the compound is too short, but we park a mile away from the tree, forging an off-road path where no one would think to look for us.
Roman insisted.
While I have the field experience, he has the type of mind that was built to strategize for war, and he insisted that we approach on foot to control our exposure. I stopped processing around his fifth command because all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears.
The walk through the woods is silent except for the crunch of leaves under our boots and the occasional breathy gasp from Clover. Her shadows are creeping back in, and they’re having a physical effect on her.
She hasn’t been this jumpy since the first time she saw me again and damn near convinced herself that I was a ghost.
She walks between me and Grant. Sterling and Chase flank us at two and eight o’clock. Chief brings up the rear, moving surprisingly quiet for a man his age.
