Page 112

Eden

Some people aren’t built to fight . . .

so they learn to protect themselves in other ways.

Jasper’s cool hand is tense on the back of my neck as we stride toward Bristlebrook, but it reassures me anyway—just a silent anchor. A skin-on-skin reminder that he has me. That he’s okay.

That I’m okay.

His thumb skates up the side, and I breathe out shakily. I have a note to read.

But first . . .

Jayk, Beau, and Lucky are waiting for us on the porch, and Jasper releases me with a squeeze. Before I can jog up to see them, however, Sawyer shuffles out in front of them, stepping down off the porch.

Shame and misery tangle in his eyes as he approaches us.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. After the attack the other night... I heard the bullets and I just...”

Ran .

My own remembered guilt stings through me.

“It happens,” Dom says, clipped but not unsympathetic.

On my other side, Jasper nods, his gaze dark and assessing. “Come and see me, when you have some time. It might help.”

Sawyer looks away, his throat working, and we continue on, more subdued.

“I guess you don’t really get used to it,” I whisper.

Jasper’s assessing gaze slides to me. “The Sinners’ attack was only recent. He has time to heal.”

I force a smile—it comes out sad anyway.

“I meant all the other raids on their home. He must be living with years of that fear. I don’t think I could have stayed.

” I shake my head as we walk up the stairs.

The dimming late-afternoon light is starting to feel uncomfortably dark. “I don’t blame him for running.”

“You shouldn’t. Some people just aren’t built for this. It’s not their fault.” When Dom stops at the top of the porch, he turns to look down at me, and he adds darkly, “They shouldn’t have to be.”

The others stride over, but Dom gestures at them to give him a minute.

Jayk rolls his eyes, muttering, and Lucky salutes with his middle finger. Beau snorts, but his anxious gaze runs over me.

I smile at them, and when I reach the top of the porch, Dom tilts my chin one way, then the other, checking me for... I’m not even sure. Bruises? There’s still a grim worry living behind his golden eyes.

Maybe he’s just checking on me because he needs to.

I was gone for more than long enough to worry them.

When I steady his wrist, leaning into his palm, he sighs, finally relaxing.

“You shouldn’t have to be,” he tells me softly.

Shouldn’t have to be afraid. Shouldn’t need to go to war. Shouldn’t need to second guess the intentions of everyone around me.

Except for theirs.

It’s been a long time since I’ve doubted my brutes.

Taking his hand from my face, I link my fingers with his, and I meet his eyes.

“ None of us should.”

That is what I’m fighting for. A world where my brutes don’t have to stand as my shield.

They’re so much more than that.

Lucky is on me in the next instant, and I hold up a halting finger toward Jayk before he can toss Lucky off me.

He waits impatiently until Lucky is finished pressing frantic kisses against my mouth—and then crushes me against his chest until I squeak.

Beau’s cuddle afterward is as soft as pillows, as sleep and comfort, and it relaxes me enough that it’s his side I anchor myself against.

Bentley’s secret note is like a live wire in my pocket.

But this time, it doesn’t even occur to me to keep it a secret.

“We need to talk.”

We hole up in Jasper’s room again. The sheets are still tousled on his bed where I slept last night. We’ve all been gravitating to his rooms—not just because, between this and his secret room, he has two enormous beds as well as the couch... he also has hot water.

We’ve gathered around his sitting room, and Bentley’s note lies in the center of the coffee table.

Only, it’s not from Bentley at all.

If you want your Rangers to live, meet me by your “secret” tunnel at midnight.

I have an offer to present.

Consider this me calling in your tithe.

P.S. Only bring one of the armed idiots, or none of you will survive the night.

“No,” Jayk growls, breaking the heavy silence.

He’s in the leather armchair opposite my couch, and I lean forward, trying for delicacy. “Jayk, I really think we need to think about?—”

“No.”

His rough face is set and hard, and I glance up at Beau, who is pacing by the bed. Catching my look, he shakes his head silently.

I don’t think it’s in denial.

Beau looks worried.

“We could just kill him?” Lucky offers. “Can we do the murder thing?”

“Then we have Bane to deal with instead,” Dom mutters. “No better. I say we go.”

“No,” Jayk snaps again.

Massaging his temple, Jasper shoots Jayk a look riddled with forced patience.

“I agree with Eden,” he says in a repressive tone from his armchair.

“Bane... is extremely concerning, and his opinions hold weight with Alastair. Sullivan can be disregarded for now, unfortunately. He appears to have little influence. But if we do nothing, given what we’ve seen today.

.. I do think we’ll be attacked in force in very short order.

If we have any other options, I think we should explore them. Dominic and Eden should go.”

“And if it’s an ambush?” Jayk grits out.

Jasper’s expression gentles. “I can’t imagine what the point would be. They could have taken Eden today. Killed Dom and myself. No need for all the subterfuge.”

Jayk glowers at him... but it doesn’t take long before his expression cracks, and he looks back at me in silent, tight-jawed demand.

“It’s outside the side tunnel. I’ll bring a whistle,” I tell him softly. “You’ll be able to hear it on the other end... and I’ll be with Dom.”

After a long moment, Jayk nods, his shoulders dropping in defeat.

Straddling the arm of the couch beside me, Lucky’s looking down at the note with a sour expression. It’s the worst possible place he could sit.

His foot is half wedged into my ass.

“That dude really needs to learn the art of asking nicely,” he mutters. His long hair sprawls around his shoulders, and he rakes it back irritably.

I pat his foot.

I’ve already filled them in on the important details, the numbers and supplies and the trees ready to span our moat. But the rest...

“When I spoke with them all today... Mateo, Bentley, and... and Heather,” I begin hesitantly, then shake my head.

“I don’t know. I’m conflicted. Heather seemed so sure.

She doesn’t trust Alastair, or his intentions with the captives.

With us. She has so much hate for him, and that could be clouding her judgment, but.

.. with what we’ve seen, and what he and Mateo have done to us and the Reapers. .. I can’t imagine trusting them.”

Dom braces against the top of Jayk’s chair as he leans over it, watching me.

“We shouldn’t,” Beau says, sitting heavily on the end of the rumpled bed. “You two need to be careful. I’m not losing any more of my family.”

He and Dom exchange a silent, grief-edged look, and Jayk drops his head into his hands, his fingers knotting over the back of his neck.

“Agreed,” I murmur, hurting for all of them.

Praying that particular hurt is one I never have to feel myself.

It takes me a moment to find my voice again.

“I just... oh, I can’t reconcile any of it.

Bentley seemed so adamant, talking about them not being what they seem, and.

.. I mean, he gave Alastair the location of the tunnel—which leads to Soren .

He must trust them. Or he’s being tortured in some unimaginable way that wasn’t obvious to my admittedly inexperienced eye. ”

Princely and calm in his chair, Jasper nods to himself, smoothing down his pants absently.

Lucky glances down at me, and the ghost of his dimples appears in his cheeks. “Bentley, huh? Is he still flirting with Mateo? Hey, Jasper, how many points for Stockholm Syndrome?”

Silently, I yank out several dark golden hairs from behind his ankle.

“Ah! No . Those were aesthetic. Don’t make me patchy!” he complains.

Beau talks over him in a slow, thoughtful drawl. “So we’ve heard what Heather thinks, and what Bentley thinks, but darlin’... what do you think?”

Across the room, his hands are buried in the bedsheets like he’s got a stranglehold on them, but he’s watching me intently, the way he does every time I speak. Every ritual, every day, he listens with his whole attention.

My opinions matter to these men.

I tuck my hand behind Lucky’s knee, leaning into him.

“I think...” Frowning, I sigh. “I think that whether Alastair is trustworthy or not, we’re in a bad position, and so is he with his men. I think we should try to negotiate something—some route to resolving this without a fight.”

Looking around this room, I imagine it destroyed and tarred by Sinners.

I look at my men.

“At midnight, we work out a solution with Alastair... because too many will die if we don’t.”