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He righted his posture, lifting his chin to point his attention anywhere but on me. “Time to go.”
“Nice to see you’ve upgraded from grunting words to snarling them.”
“Only for you, buttercup. Only for you.” He abruptly started for the hallway, probably realizing what he’d said, and how he’d said it. Low, raspy, and full of delicious intent.
Yup, I was right. I was reading him just freaking fine, apparently. “Walls are coming down, down, down . . .”
My words stopped him in his tracks, right in the middle of the doorway. His strong hands went to the doorframe, and his back muscles flexed, cinching his tee together down his spine.
Whatever he’d planned to say, he must’ve decided to stop playing with fire. Because instead of unleashing the comeback I knew he was itching to throw my way, he pushed away a moment later and continued his retreat.
I took a few seconds to heal from the whiplash the man kept giving me, knowing, in part, it was my fault, then joined him and the others by the lake.
Everyone was gathered there, preparing for our send-off. I didn’t miss the fact both Sam and Malcolm were strapped. Like strapped-strapped. M4 sniper rifles were slung across their chests.
“Preparing for war?” I asked as Cindy and Vanessa gestured me over.
“They’ll be following behind at a safe distance, but hidden from view, just in case you need backup,” Vanessa explained, giving my forearm a reassuring squeeze.
“I don’t want them placing themselves in danger.” I looked over at Oliver as he spoke with his father near the dock. The exchange didn’t seem to be heated, which was good. “You sure?”
“They’ll be fine, I promise.” Vanessa’s tone came across as confident as her words, so I opted not to press and argue. I’d save being a pain in the ass for Oliver.
I faced her, finding myself suddenly emotional as I went in for a hug. “Thank you again for everything.”
“Come back soon,” Vanessa offered, “but as a couple on a romantic getaway.”
“You think he’ll ever . . .” I let my words trail off so she could fill in the dots herself.
Vanessa nodded. “He will.” She hugged me again before stepping aside so I could say my goodbyes to Cindy.
“Be safe, okay?” Cindy moved in for the hug before I could, then added in my ear, “That boy loves you. Fiercely. He will come around.”
Now I was going to cry, but I sucked it up and only sniffled as she released me. I nodded my thanks and we exchanged a few more words before we joined the others by the dock.
Easton and Teddy were already on the boat, rifles slung across their bodies as well. When Oliver slipped past me to hug Cindy and Vanessa, I faced off with Sam and Malcolm, deciding to test out whether or not I could handle contact with a man who wasn’t Oliver.
It’s now or never.
Malcolm cleared his throat, then shifted his rifle to the side, sensing what I was about to do. And I did it. Hugged him and didn’t freak out.
I touched my mouth after, finding a smile of victory sitting on my lips. “Thank you for everything. Please don’t get hurt on our behalf, though.”
“Roger that.” Malcolm winked. “And you’re welcome.”
Sam gestured me off to the side of the group, and Oliver caught my eyes before he concealed his with sunglasses his father must’ve given him.
Sam moved his rifle around the same as Malcolm did. “Listen, my boy can be stubborn. In his head, I suspect I’m to blame for a lot of his problems.” He coughed into a closed fist, appearing to get choked up. “He hates himself, too. Although, I don’t think hate is even a strong enough word for what he’s feeling.”
I rolled my lips inward over my teeth, fighting to keep the emotions bubbling in my chest from escaping in the form of tears.
“I’m worried he’s going to get himself killed, just like his brother did.” He blinked back tears. “I wasn’t there for Tucker, to prevent him from . . . but I need to be there for Oliver.” He reached for my hand and discreetly slipped something into my palm. “That’s my number.” He set his eyes on the lake as if worried Oliver was looking on and might suspect something. “When it’s time for him to get his revenge, I need to be there. I have to have his back.” Zeroing in on me again, he emphasized, “I refuse to attend another son’s funeral.”
35
MYA
SWISS-GERMAN BORDER
