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Jerry: Good news, Noah was discharged. I didn’t say anything earlier because getting everything together and home took a while.
Drake looked at his wife, sleeping soundly curled against his bare chest.
Drake: Take care of Noah. If you need anything, let me know.
A few minutes later, his phone pinged with another text.
Grant: All clear. We need you to return to the city and resume operations.
Drake’s domestic bubble burst. This interlude had proved necessary to strengthen their relationship, and he wasn’t sure they’d be able to find this peace again. It was a hopeless dream to expect it to last long.
Maybe it was time for a change. Maybe Chicago wasn’t meant to be their forever home. Washington, D.C. was no longer an option, but they still had a vast world to explore.
***
Chapter Eight
Hiding scars wasn’t new to Alessandra. She’d had years of practice with the ones she bore inside and out. What were a few more?
Alessandra searched through hangers in her closet and emptied the drawers of her wardrobe. She stuffed half of it in trash bags and wrote a giant D on it, indicating it was for donation. Purging her clothes gave her a sense of control, like a snake shedding its skin.
Once she finished, she pulled on a pair of black leggings. The tight pants drew attention to the curve of her hips and ass. She paired it with a camisole and an oversized knit cardigan.
The most important accessory was black fingerless gloves. She flexed and extended her fingers, happy with the flexibility the worn, familiar leather offered. She’d missed the familiar scent and feel against her skin.
She arrived at the Matthews’ residence and rang the bell, hearing it chime within. The love between the men made their home welcoming. The high wood-stained ceiling and artful decor were warm and alluring. Her favorite decoration was a canvas print of Noah and Jerry. They looked blissful on a beach.
Noah ushered Alessandra into the living room, moving slower than he used to. Alessandra could only offer a watery smile as her eyes settled on the angry, red scar that sliced Noah’s eyebrow in two. His eye socket remained swollen and painful-looking. She instinctively reached to brush his hair from his forehead but quickly withdrew as Noah recoiled.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered.
Noah gently grabbed her hand. His thumb rolled over her gloved knuckles. The comforting gesture made her want to weep. Alessandra swallowed the bitterness that rose within her.
She cleared her throat and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m surviving. How about you?” Noah’s voice sounded weak and hollow to Alessandra’s ears.
“Same.” She sighed.
“You look so cozy. I just want to snuggle up with you.” Noah’s lip raised in a half smile.
“You shameless flirt.” She chuckled.
“I prefer incorrigible.” He laughed.
“I’m glad you’re doing better. I was really scared for you.”
“I was too, Alessandra. But we’re both still here.” Alessandra pulled him into a brief but strong hug to offer support before moving off the topic of their shared trauma.
“There’s something I need to ask you.”
“I knew there was a reason for your visit. I’m sorry to disappoint you, lovely. You should know I’m a happily married man.” Noah flashed a crooked grin and waved his hand that bore the solid gold wedding band.
Alessandra rolled her eyes and thumped Noah’s bicep with the back of her hand. “I’m serious, Noah.”
“Okay, okay. What is it?”
“Drake’s hiding something.”
