She wipes her eyes to see clearly, and then when her gaze meets mine, the expression on her face turns into something friendly—recognizing me instantly as someone she trusts—only for realization to hit like a fatal blow. The familiarity changes in an instant, and her gaze hardens, understanding what this means. Her face starts to twitch in agony…
And my heart breaks all over again.
Her hand drops from the door, and her jaw tightens, topping off the look of betrayal and disbelief. She shakes her head lightly before she draws in a sharp breath, preparing her lungs for a war cry. As if I can see her collapse before her legs give out, I reach out and pull her to my chest, instantly feeling the heat against me from her piercing exhale.
She screams so loudly that it rattles my ear drums, and she grips my jacket so tightly she might tear it apart. I can’t let her, though. I can’t allow her to see her husband’s blood staining my clothes. My hand moves to cradle the back of her head, and I hold her so tightly to my body that she might be able to trade my soul for his.
“Henry’s gone, Marissa. I’m so fucking sorry…”
“Damien?” My angel’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I blink the images away before turning my head towards her. “Areyou okay?” she asks so softly it makes me want to rip my own heart out.
The meeting room is as chaotic as ever. Carter is plugging in his laptop, Alex is stacking paperwork, voices pass through the door from how crowded the building is, and all my sweet wife is worried about isme. I grip the arm rest of her chair and pull her over to me, not wanting any space between us. We’ve had some interesting times in this room, and the resurfaced memory just a few moments ago makes me think back on them. My favorite is when I laid her on top of the table and ate her like a five-course meal, but plenty of others come to mind as well.
“Yeah, baby girl. I’m okay.” I kiss her forehead and peer out of the door, watching my parents talk to the Andersons. Because Mom and Dad live so far away, they weren’t affected, but the moment they heard Adrien’s podcast, they were on their way here. Shockingly, my dad and Richard seem to be getting along pretty well, and I’m not sure I’ve seen my father be friendly with anyone in my entire life. Well, except for my mother, of course.
Zeke’s parents—or adoptive parents, I should say—are also here, but we set them up in one of the interrogation rooms to talk. Today is weighing heavily on all of us, but none more than him. It broke something in my soul to watch Zeke lay eyes on his mother, and then it crumbled to see Ashia’s reaction to their connection. Zeke has told them about her, and they were supposed to meet for lunch one day this week, but this is definitely not how they anticipated they would meet each other.
I look back down at Ashia and take in her worried eyes, the overwhelming urge to hold her washing over me. My hand instinctively finds her small belly, and I let that ground me instead of suffocating her with my grasp. While I love feeling the slight swell beneath my hand, it eases my mind too, knowing that both of the people I hold closest to my heart are right where I can see and feel them. I know the baby won’t be able tohear anything going on around us for at least the next month, but I still have the unwavering compulsion to shield it from everything about the dangers around us.
“What about you? Are you alright?” I ask her softly, knowing the answer for her emotional state, but I need to make sure she’s okay physically too. Learning of Charlie’s passing, and then Emmett’s condition, hit her hard. That, on top of Taylor’s death as well, has us both reeling with despair. It’s important, now more than ever, that I keep her above water, though, and I’ll do whatever it takes to accomplish that. I may have failed at a lot of things the past several months, but this won’t be one of them.
“Yeah, I’m alright,” she replies softly, and lays her hand over mine. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” She tilts her head to the side and studies my eyes, like she’s trying to figure out if I would lie to her.
Truthfully? No. I’m not ready to let a bunch of strangers into our domain and trust them enough to be around my men, but this disaster is proving to be more than we can handle, and Ashia had a good point of using them if they’re here and willing. So, after a long discussion with Carter and Alex, we’re waiting for Kade and Satori to arrive. No one else will be allowed in the building until we come to an agreement, and everyone goes through the same intake as the mercenaries.
Well, not the exact same, because I’m a paranoid mother fucker, but close to the same.
“No, I’m not ready, but you made a good point, and I trust you more than anyone or anything else. So, we’re going with your gut,” I respond truthfully. Her eyes soften slightly, and just when I’m about to lean in and kiss her, the door opens again. Only, it’s not who I expect.
Zeke walks through the door with blood shot eyes and a splotchy face, like he’s cried enough for two lifetimes.
“What are you doing, man? You good?”
He moves and shakes his head, looking like a lost puppy. My body aches from just seeing him in so much misery.
“Please don’t shut me out, I just… I need to dosomething. I can’t sit around and dwell on it, I’ll drown…” he says with a shaky tone laced with such honesty that it weakens the heavens. I nod back to him, and Ashia pulls out the chair next to her, inviting him over with a small pat on the seat of it. He shuffles over and sits just before reaching over to grab a tissue and wipe his eyes. My sweet wife—his sister—squeezes his arm gently, and then loops hers through it, silently showing him that she’s there for him. He gently pats her hand in return, showing his affection back in an awkward fashion, and then he clears his throat. “So, what are we doing?”
“Waiting on Satori and Kade. They’re going through intake now,” Carter tells him, and his eyes widen.
“We’re actually working with those pompous assholes?”
Zeke doesn’t like Sahara—never has. He always said they’re too flashy—too cocky with their work. Which, I agree, but they also had more resources at the time. Unfortunately, that may not be the case anymore.
“They can help us through this shit show, and then we’ll go from there. Okay? Let’s get the people taken care of,” I say back to him as softly as I can, but it comes off more authoritative. He just nods in response and aggressively tosses his tissue in the trash can across the room, making the shot. I scoff and shake my head, silently acknowledging his tiny tantrum.
As if mentioning their names summoned them, Ezra escorts Satori and Kade through the door. Satori’s presence is just as unnerving as before. He stands tall and confident, like he’s already decided that this is his new home.
I don’t fucking like it.
He’s going to learn very quickly that while he may have been in charge before, that he’ll be far from that now. These aremymen,myorganization, and if he thinks his input will ever come before theirs, he’s in for a rude awakening.
Kade’s appearance catches me off guard; looking nothing like I expected. We’ve known each other for years, but virtually, and I’ve only ever seen pictures or seen his face on a video call. He’s shorter than I expected, standing fully at about five foot seven, and his hair is shorter than the last time I spoke to him. It’s bald on the sides, and shaved on top like he’s in the military, while Satori has clean cut, wavy hair that lays backward. Kade takes one look around the room and runs his hand over his practically nonexistent brown hair before having a seat on the opposite side of me and my wife.
Satori is smart enough to sit beside him, and away from us, but is dumb enough to give Ashia the same not-worth-a-shit look that he did before. Does he not like women? I’m going to guess and say everyone in his organization are males, and that might all but confirm my suspicions. Men like him don’t sit well with me, so I’ll be sure to make this as fun as possible for him.
Not.
“Thanks for coming.” I look directly at Kade and speak, intentionally avoiding Satori, and he nods back—finally acknowledging me with more than a nervous glance.
