Page 59 of Radar

But there was a simple way around that.

Xander went to Eddie’s to see if he could find her name in his friendship list. And when that failed, Xander remembered that Eddie was bringing up a video when Elyssa asked him not to.

Scrolling back in time on what looked like an abandoned Facebook timeline, Xander found pictures of Eddie’s college days.

And there she was on the rugby field.

Mesmerizing. Fluid. A powerhouse. A team player.

She took the hits and was back on her feet.

Those observations seemed to have played out both on the field and in her personal life, Xander mused.

Elyssa’s grit and determination weren’t a facial expression practiced in the mirror. It was sweat and dirt. It was straining muscles. It was pelting forward at mind-bending speed as she clutched the ball protectively to her chest, palm-fisting her opponents and sending them sprawling to the ground.

Video after video.

In this last video, like in the others, the crowd roared, and Eddie was screaming encouragement her way from the stands. She was in the scrum. She was bending, lifting, and running with a woman hanging over her back, as her opponent still desperately clutched at the rugby ball.

Honest to god, he’d rarely seen men as fierce and powerful as these women.

Xander could completely see Elyssa bursting into a ring of violent men, pushing her way into the center, grabbing up a stranger in need, as Eddie hid behind his palms, and taking him to her car.

Elyssa would probably just say she’d done her little bit of good.

Xander lifted his attention as Radar bounded off the bed. Radar stood stiffly at the door.

Xander figured Radar was sensing animals in the woods, and he went back to his scrolling.

Radar was softly growling at the door, and Reaper had told Xander in no uncertain terms that he was never to dissuade Radar from voicing what was going on around him. Radar might not get the distinction and fail to alert when it was imperative.

Radar kept on with his guttural growls, edging up to put his nose on the door.

Xander wondered if there was a bear outside. He’d get up and look, but he was loath to wake Elyssa. He had these few minutes of bliss with her in his arms—conflicted bliss, but bliss, nonetheless. Xander didn’t want to wake Elyssa if it meant she might go back to her own room.

But suddenly, Radar’s growling changed. It was no longer an awareness; it was a warning.

Xander edged out of bed, reaching for his pants and pulling them on as he moved toward the window to look out.

There was a man at Elyssa’s door, fussing with the lock.

“Radar, dance,” Xander commanded, and Radar was between his legs in a snap.

Opening the door only as much as necessary to keep the frigid temperatures out. Xander pitched his voice to his “I take no shit from anyone” combat tone when he said just above a whisper, “Do you need something?”

The man swung around, startled as he stood at Elyssa’s door. “No. I was looking for a friend of mine.”

“Which friend?” Xander asked.

“I—uhm.”

Xander glanced at his watch. “It’s 4:30, dude, and no one’s around but me and my dog,” he lied. Why did he lie?

“I’m sorry. Is it that late? I’ve,” he looked over his shoulder. “We’ve been drinking and wanted to check on our friend.”

“Wrong door, buddy. The woman who was staying there left with some old fat dude about thirty minutes ago.” Xander had no idea why he said that. “Move along. My dog is paying attention.”

As if on cue, Radar, the magnificent, softly rumbled a warning in his chest.