Page 54 of Her Chosen Protector

Asher felt himself relax a little tiny bit at the sound of Kane’s voice. Granted, the man wasn’t as good with explosives as he was, but he was pretty damn good. If for some reason they couldn’t get the vault open with fair means, Kane might be able to get it open with foul means….and C-4.

“Ezio says that his guy on Omega Sky is as good as you, and he’s got him on stand-by to face-time me through everything. Of course, Ezio is probably just trying to talk up his team. Nobody is as good as you, buddy.” Kane was pouring it on thick. “But I prefer waiting until Suzanne is out of surgery and getting the code from her.”

“Why do we need her out of surgery?” Asher asked. “We have the combination.”

“Ash, this is Kane. There’s a teensy-eensy little problem. There is a revolving combination that’s employed after each use. There has to be some kind of numeric code for Suzanne to remember, but we don’t know what it is.”

“How do you know?” Asher demanded to know.

“It’s in the vault specs that Rafa pulled up.”

“Fuck!” Asher gave a frustrated groan. “Just when you think something is going to be easy.”

“My personal choice is Suzanne waking up and us finding out how to open that goddamn vault before the building collapses on it. Are we clear?” Max was still pissed.

“I love the sound of your caring voice, Lieutenant.” Asher teased.

“Ah Jesus, don’t go sounding like Cullen, otherwise I’ll leave you in there. Now tell me how the civilian is doing.”

“She’s fine. Hell, she’s more than fine. Did they tell you how she stepped up when needed?”

“Yeah, yeah, Leland can’t quit singing her praises. He told me that he would ruin my credit rating for life if I didn’t figure out a way to bring her out safely.” Max paused. “On a serious note, we should know about Señora Azua in about three hours. I’ve checked with the bank manager, Hector. He told me any kind of override rests with her. It’s going to be a while before the secret police can dig their way to the vault to set charges, so unless you have a problem, don’t bother checking in until midnight.”

“I appreciate it.”

Asher hung up and set his watch. That was one of the first things he learned, never pass up sleep, food, or water when it was available, because you never knew when you’d get a chance at it again.

He picked up another velvet tablecloth. And a pillow, you never passed up a pillow if you had a chance for that, either.

How could Xavier look so calm? It never made any sense. None of it made any sense. Asher watched Xavier finish up scraping off the last dish in the sink, then put it into the dishwasher and start the dishes.

What the hell was that all about?

“Please, Xave, don’t do this,” Asher begged. He knew what was coming and it broke his heart.

Xavier ignored him. It was like he wasn’t even in the room with his brother. Asher could see Xavier clear as day, but no matter how loud he yelled, Xavier ignored him.

“Please no, I beg you,” Ash cried, his hands reaching out in supplication.

He tried to grab him, but his fingers went right through his brother’s body. Ash looked down at his hands and realized that they were made of mist. But he had to try. He had to.

Xavier went to the refrigerator and pulled off a picture that had been taped to the front of it.

The photo was of him and the men in the unit he’d served with when he was in Afghanistan. Xavier took it with him into the garage.

Asher followed, still yelling at his brother to stop.

“Don’t go in there. Don’t go!”

It hit Asher hard when he saw that Xavier’s Mustang coupe and Triumph motorcycle weren’t in the garage. Instead, a plastic tarp covered the cement. He knew this from photos he had pulled from the coroner’s office. He fucking knew this was how it looked.

“Xavier,” he pleaded. Begged. Cried.

His brother propped up the picture of his unit on his workbench. He picked up the Glock and knelt in the middle of the tarp. His gun was steady as he held it against his temple.

“I love you, Xave, no!”

“Asher, wake up.”