“And I’m not putting her in front of those men.”
Derek leans back, his thumb tapping the side of his glass. When he speaks again, his voice is careful, almost conversational, each word set down and tested before the next.
“You know, the Council might surprise you on this one. They didn’t approve Annie out of the goodness of their hearts. Coach pulled strings. He went to bat for Gabriel inside that chamber, and they granted it because he asked.”
I turn my head to look at him. “What do you mean?”
Derek shrugs as though he’s repeating the weather report. “Coach has friends on the Council going back decades. He’s also on the short list for the next seat that opens.”
I didn’t know that, and the kitchen feels smaller than it did a minute ago.
“He never told me any of that.”
“Why would he? It’s not the type of thing you brag about.” Derek lifts his glass. “But it means he has leverage, Grayson. Real leverage. If Coach goes to the Council on your behalf like he did for Gabriel, they’ll listen. And they’ll probably say yes.”
I don’t react, sipping my coffee.
Inside my head, a different conversation is running. If Coach is a Council candidate, the last thing the Council would do is move against his family.
Derek is watching me over the rim of his glass. “You all right?”
“Just tired. It’s been a long day.”
“It has.” He stands. “Listen. Until this whole thing is sorted out, I’m going to keep popping in. Drop by during the day. Run the perimeter at night when I can. Nobody is walking back onto this property and getting within ten feet of your boy. Hear me?”
He puts his palm flat against the side of my neck for a second, the old pack gesture from when we were younger, and something in his face when he does it eludes me. I can’t tell if it’s affection or an imitation of it wearing his old smile.
I clap his shoulder in return. “Thank you.”
The stairs creak, and Miranda comes down in the T-shirt and leggings she sleeps in, her hair pulled into a messy knot at theback of her neck. She stops at the bottom of the steps and looks between us.
Derek smiles at her. “I was just heading out, Miranda. Sleep well. Try not to worry. Your boys are well looked after.”
He lets himself out through the side door.
The latch drops behind him with that same small click, and I cross to her before the sound has fully faded, my hands sliding up her arms, pulling her in against my chest. She comes willingly. Her forehead drops to my collarbone, and she exhales like she has been holding the breath for an hour.
She is silent against my chest for a long moment, her good arm wrapped around my ribs, and I can feel her thinking.
“Put a tracker on him,” she says suddenly.
I pull back enough to see her face. “What?”
“A tracker. In his shoes. Sewn into the lining of his coats. One in his backpack.” Her eyes are level. “I know it’s controlling. I don’t care. He’s four, Grayson. If somebody manages to grab him from this house or from a park or anywhere, I want to know we have a way to find him.”
I stare at her, and the wolf in my chest, who has been pacing since I saw her shouting for me in the yard, settles all at once. My hand comes up to the back of her neck, and I draw her forehead to mine.
“You’re brilliant.”
“I’m scared.”
“You’re brilliant and scared at once. I’ll call my security guy in the morning. Multiple devices. Different ranges. We’ll get redundancy on every piece of clothing he owns, including ChuChu.”
A small breath of a laugh leaves her. “Even ChuChu.”
“That bear has been on every adventure of his life. He’s not going anywhere without a chip in him.”
She presses her face back into my chest, and her shoulders loosen a fraction. “Come to bed.”
