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"Fuck. That," I grunt, her attention snapping to me. "I'll protect you. You're here. You're stateside. I'm here. The boys are here too."

"You don't know everything." She tries to pull her hand from mine but I hold tight. "Why are you here? You need to go. Go far away."

"What all don't I know? Take it off, Pops. I need to see you." My eyes close as I lean back into her warm palm. "I thought you were gone, that I’d lost you forever. I need to see you. Need to know you're okay. Please give me this. Let me see you. Trust me."

Seconds turn into minutes as the clock in the kitchen ticks on and on. But I don't move, giving her time to feel safe. Fuck, I want to see her and make sure she's okay, but I won't force the issue. Whatever happens will be on her time frame, not mine, no matter how much I want to push it.

"Okay," she finally whispers, withdrawing her hand from mine. This time I let it go.

The veil slides from her shoulders, then her face and head. The blue eyes I've dreamed about stay focused on her lap as the fabric pools to the floor.

Not wanting to spook her, I inspect every inch of exposed skin. Her blonde hair appears healthy, not too malnourished, and neither does her skin. Even though she's lost a little weight, she appears relatively healthy. A pang of guilt and envy sucker-punches my gut at the signs that someone else has taken care of her.

"Hey there, beautiful," I say, reaching up to touch her face, but she pulls away. I furrow my brows and drop my hand beside her on the couch. "What's wrong?"

"Don't," she says, still staring at her lap. "Just don't, okay?"

"Okay, Pops." Pushing off the table, I fall to the couch and wrap an arm around her shoulders. She tenses beneath my touch, sending another wave of guilt through me. "I'm sure you'll find these accommodations a lot better than the last ones we occupied together. This one has real walls, windows, and of course indoor plumbing. So no more making me sing and cover my eyes in the corner while you take a leak.”

"You died. I heard the gun, heard the shot. You're dead. You've been dead."

Unable to stay still, I stand from the couch and sit on the coffee table in front of her. Concentrating on my clasped hands, I explain. "I was too out of it to know what was going on, but the guys tell me they dragged me out of that shit hole, fever, bullet wound and all. The fucker hit my shoulder instead of my chest. I was lucky he didn't take another shot." I dare a glance up only to find her eyes on me. My heart hammers against my chest as I fight the urge to lean forward and kiss the lips that haunt my dreams. "So no, I didn't die. I've been here recovering from... I've been... where have you been? I've waited. Worried. Fuck, I've gone insane wondering where you were. Where the fuck were you? I would’ve found you if I could."

Those blue eyes drop back to her lap, the earlier sizzle of connection gone. A chirp beeps through the house, signaling there's a perimeter breach. Careful not to make any sudden movements, I leave her on the couch to meet Raider and Tex as they shuffle back into the room, guns at the ready. I keep mine on my hip but lift the T-shirt and tuck it behind the holster for easy access if needed.

We stare out the front door, watching the new caravan of black SUVs come up the gravel drive. Raider says something that makes Tex laugh before responding with something that pisses Raider off. The two bicker like a damn old couple, but I keep my attention zeroed in on the new arrivals and replay what Pops said.

“You don't know everything.”

What the hell does that even mean? I don't know what happened the last four months? Well no shit, that's what I'm asking.

But it seemed... deeper than that. The fear leaching from her voice tells me I'm missing something.

I pop all ten knuckles before tucking my hands into the front pockets of my pants. As the men unload, I turn back to the living room to make sure she's okay.

"Fuck!" I yell at the empty couch.