Page 193 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

“What’s the catch?” Steele gritted.

Meridian’s black gaze moved to him. “The work…oh…and dealing with me.”

Meridian extended his hand. God shook it.

Whatever passed between them, Xander didn’t fully understand.

Meridian narrowed his eyes at him in a way that made him recoil behind Cassidy. “I expect tickets to your next premiere, Xander Vale,” he said. “One of my assistants is a big fan.”

Xander blinked. “Uhh, of course.”

I’ll mail ’em to your house, next door to Satan’s lair.

Meridian gave the smallest incline of his head before he turned to leave with his men.

When the door shut behind them, the suite seemed to exhale. For a few moments, no one moved. Then Curtis broke away from Genesis and came straight toward Xander, taking both of his hands in his.

“Please come to my wedding,” Curtis begged. “We’re comrades now, brothers in arms.”

Xander shook his head, Curtis was too damn much. How could he refuse him and dim the sparkle in those pretty eyes? “I’d love to.”

Curtis beamed. “I want you in every picture, just move Gen to the side. I want you right by me.”

Xander laughed. It came out tired and rough, but real. He touched Cassidy’s jaw. “You gonna be my date?”

Cassidy stayed on one knee in front of him. He brought his wrists to his mouth and kissed them softly over the angry marks the zip ties left behind.

“I really am okay,” he whispered.

Cassidy’s eyes lifted to his. “Let’s go home.”

Syn

Syn had the sauce for his pasta simmering and permeating the house—garlic, onions, crushed tomatoes, basil, a little red pepper because Furi liked heat, and a splash of Ketel One.

It was Green’s recipe and the only one Syn had perfected. Now the Penne Alla Vodka was the dish he made any time they were celebrating.

He had two plates waiting on the counter. Two long-stemmed wine glasses. A loaf of herb bread wrapped in foil in the oven. And Furi’s favorite bowl set out because he claimed pasta tasted better from it. Syn stirred the sauce and let himself smile.

He was cooking for Furi again.

Waiting for him to come home from his new job. Planning to eat dinner together like normal men who hadn’t almost torn their lives apart, fled to a ranch, had an epiphany, then came back to Atlanta with more love and hope in their hearts than when they’d left.

Normal looked good from where he was standing.

He lowered the heat and tasted the sauce. Needs salt. He added a pinch, stirred again, then leaned one hip against the counter while the Zoom meeting he’d had with the Fulton Municipal Board this afternoon replayed in his head.

He’d gotten the job!

The Atlanta PD had been his identity for so long that leaving it had felt like having skin peeled off.

Law enforcement was in his blood.

Maybe that’s why he’d applied for the sheriff’s position in the small town where Fox and Bull lived.

He’d still be able to protect and serve but with a lot less getting shot at, or serving high risk warrants on notorious dealers who had no qualms killing cops. No more coming home with blood on his shirt and calling it “not mine”.

No more staying at the precinct, strategizing until one in the morning on a case that took months to crack. Or getting called in on his one day off he had a month.