Page 8 of Remade (Hillcroft Group #3)

“Can you imagine?”

He chuckled. “Wait till you meet my sister.”

Oh, right! She had five boys!

Jesus Christ.

I was so glad Bo only had Alex. She barely counted anyway. She was cool, like a tiny adult. I actually missed her.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’mma go see how Willow’s doin’.” James grunted as he got off the couch, and I told him the code to unlock my door.

“Yeah, I should check in with my wife too,” Ethan said. “That’s another Quinn enjoying her morning sickness at the moment.”

I smiled. “I may have seen that on your Instagram. Congrats.”

He smiled back and rose to his feet. “Thanks. You’ll have to meet all your cousins soon. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Fuck. My stomach fluttered, and he couldn’t possibly understand what that meant to me.

Family had always been an unobtainable dream to me. In school, I’d go over to a friend’s house for dinner, and I’d be envious at the gathering around the table. Parents, siblings, a grandparent or two sometimes, pets silently begging for scraps…

Now I was running out of fingers to count cousins.

“What’re you doin’?” I heard Darius ask Gray.

I looked over at them, only to see Gray holding up four fingers that became three, two, one… “Counting down till you change the subject to work.”

Bo and Ryan found that funny.

Darius smirked. “Knucklehead, you just changed it for me.”

“Don’t even try—you were changing it anyway,” Gray laughed. “You can take the operator out of Hillcroft, but you can’t take Hillcroft out of the operator.”

Ooh, shots fired.

Darius narrowed his eyes, definitely struck by that insult, but he bravely managed to push forward. “Whatever. The others will be back in a few.” He turned to Bo and gestured at Ryan. “He mentioned you’ve been working a Hahn assignment.”

Bo inclined his head. “That’s right. You and Vince had a few of those back in the day.”

“We sure did.” Darius turned a little grim. “Now, given the praise the media is givin’ the Feds for the bust in Fredericksburg, I can only assume it’s a cover-up and that it went well.”

“As well as it could, I suppose,” Bo replied. “You know how these things go. Someone’s going to fill the vacuum eventually.”

Darius nodded. “That’s what I wanted to get at—but I don’t think you need to worry about Hahn. I’m sure Intel’s already on top of this, but it’s the Iraqi warmonger by Hahn’s side you need to keep an eye on. He’s gone from foot soldier to sharing the top seat in about ten years, and he’s got big plans.”

Bo turned pensive and scratched his jaw. “River did mention Omar’s motives are rooted in ideology.”

That seemed to surprise Darius. “You have River in Intel?”

“For the moment. Shira brought them both in as consultants.”

“Then it’s all good,” Darius said. “He knows this already. But you should be prepared too. The last gig Vince and I took together, we saw firsthand how Omar operates. Hahn wants oil, gas, and mining—Omar wants to destroy every diplomatic relationship we establish in the Middle East, including promoting chaos in the West. In my last year alone, he took down half the allies we had on the Iraqi side, and he started a war between a Texas-based oil company and a Mexican cartel.”

I looked to Bo and felt my stomach twist. Was this not over?

Bo scrubbed a hand over his face. “It suddenly makes more sense that we have four operators full time in Baghdad on a government contract.”

Darius nodded. “We need what little diplomacy we have left.”

That reminded me of something our history professor had said. Creating enemies was as easy as divorce. Maintaining an allyship was as hard as a marriage. It required a lot of work.

He’d added that he’d been divorced three times.

I didn’t know if that’d been a joke or not.

“So, is this Hahn case over or not?” I had to ask.

“One tends to set off another,” Darius replied.

“But they could know who Beckett is,” I said, turning back to Bo. “We have no way of knowing if those fuckers in the bunker sent information to higher-ups.”

“We do, actually,” he corrected patiently. “That’s what Intel is for.”

Oh.

“There’s another problem, though,” he went on. “My brother’s safehouse was an intelligence blind spot for months. If any of the Hahn crews relayed information overseas, it was during that time. We didn’t have anyone tracking their movements.”

So the result was the same. Someone higher up in the Hahn chain of command could have Bo’s picture on a proverbial dart board.

“You should talk to Quinlan,” Ryan said. “This might be one of those instances where my brand of diplomacy is best.”

Darius agreed. “Aye. Get a sanctioned hit. Take out Omar. You might even get the green light from the CIA. He’s undoubtedly on their radar too.”

I raised a hand, half jokingly. “Excuse me? What’s Ryan’s brand of diplomacy?”

Darius and Ryan exchanged a smirk.

Bo was the one who answered. “You send in a sniper. No evidence, no one to blame, no red tape. A quick in-and-out.”

Gray sighed. “Yeah, in my experience, those quick in-and-outs are never quick.”

Wait, what? “Are you an operator too?”

“Oh no.” He shook his head. “I just happened to meet Darius under, uh, special circumstances, so I got my own experience. And I did complete Hillcroft’s final selection in Ecuador this summer.”

Whoa. Badass.

“I’m more geared toward search and rescue,” he finished.

“That’s cool.” I was impressed. “Do you work with that now?”

“Part time, yeah.” He smiled. “I also help my mom run a bed-and-breakfast.”

Darius didn’t look too happy about the last one. “And more and more lately, you forget to bring home leftover Danishes.”

Oh. I grinned.

Gray cocked a brow. “Because someone was recently told to keep an eye on his blood pressure.”

“It’s still in the normal range,” Darius defended.

Bo and I exchanged a look.

“Do you think that’ll be us one day?” I teased.

“Nah,” he said. “I’m more of a candy apple guy—and you already promised me that.”

I smirked. “As long as you keep an eye on your blood pressure.”

“That was not part of the agreement,” he argued, dead serious.

I laughed.

When Ethan came back, we returned to safer topics, though not as quickly as one might think. By the sound of things, Ryan and Darius were somewhat open with their brother, which was confirmed when Ethan called himself the peacemaking translator in the family. As in, when Darius and Ryan would take on an assignment back in the day, it was Ethan’s job to smooth things out and downplay the reality to their parents.

“After Darius downplays somethin’, you still need to downplay it another ten degrees to appease our mother,” he said.

At which Ryan said Ethan had fallen asleep at the wheel during this latest assignment. Since James had caught on.

And Ethan turned to me. “One thing you should learn about our family is that Ryan will never admit to being wrong. Never mind the fact that he told me nothin’ about this gig, but he literally invited our folks to Hillcroft. Were they gonna keep thinking this is a fishing trip?”

I cracked up.

“That’s bullshit,” Ryan argued. “I’ll be the first to admit when I’m wrong. You motherfucker.”

Gray turned to Darius. “What is it that he says about various shades of right?”

Darius chuckled. “He says he’s not wrong—he just takes one of the alternate routes to another version of right.”

The banter continued with Ryan defending himself and accusing everyone of planning a targeted attack on him, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I fell back against Bo’s good side, so he put his arm around me, and we just listened to the Quinns’ quick back-and-forth.

This family had tons of inside jokes and memories they referred to, and I couldn’t wait to become a part of all that. Because now I saw it. They were welcoming me into the fold, and I was gonna cry about it tonight. Fuck me, had this morning been overwhelming. In the best ways.

Bo had been right all along. They were good people.

Bo kissed my temple and asked me to grab his mug, so I reached for it and gave it to him.

Ethan and Ryan were currently bitching about someone forgetting the “bro code,” and I wanted to know more?—

“Ahh, what in the actual…” Bo shuddered next to me and peered down into his mug.

Oh crap! I’d mistakenly given him mine.

“Shoot, sorry.” I grabbed the other mug instead.

“Baby, this is just fucking wrong . You can’t drink this. It’s certifiably undrinkable. It’s garbage.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa! First he called me baby again, and then he threw insults at me?

“ You’re garbage,” I tossed back.

Ryan found that funny. “How bad can it be?”

“Field coffee’s a luxury compared to this,” Bo said.

That set the bar high enough for the men to test the claim, evidently. Ryan wanted a sip of his own, and he promptly made a face and passed the mug over to Darius. Who, in turn, only took a whiff at it before he deemed it trash too, and Ethan said, “It’s barely even brown. I ain’t drinking that.”

“It’s the best coffee!” I grated out. What the fuck was happening?

“My son’s first coffee had more coffee in it than that,” Darius chuckled. “It’s cream and sugar.”

I huffed. They were all fucking wrong.

Ethan shook his head in amusement and turned to Ryan. “I’m not saying everything’s hereditary, but do you remember when we started drinking coffee? Jake poured a fuck-ton of vanilla syrup and cream into his. On the other hand, he was like eleven.”

Oh, whatever .

Ryan chuckled. “All I remember is nearly throwing up after I tried a dozen sweeteners in mine.”

Darius smiled a little. “Even as an adult, Jake liked it sweet, though. He used brown sugar.”

“I remember that.” Ryan nodded. “He also introduced me to using whipped cream. Just a spoon of it—it’s damn good on a cold day.”

“That’s almost the same as what I’m doing,” I said.

Darius inclined his head. “Almost, if we ignore the truth.”

I smashed my lips together.

“Now you know you’re family, Leighton,” Gray said with a smirk. “It’s always three or more against one over some insignificant crap.”

That immediately earned him arguments from the three brothers, who turned on him next, and Gray just laughed through a groan and said, “And now it’s my turn. Of-fucking-course. Bring it, you old fucks.”

I grinned.

Bo pulled me back against his side, rested his arm down my front, and kissed the side of my head.

“No reason to be nervous anymore, pup,” he murmured in my ear.

I shivered and hugged his arm to me. It was so freaking bizarre, all of this. I had family .

Something bleak within me was disappearing, a pit of loneliness was being replaced by hope, and the sucking void that sometimes gave me stomachaches was slowly becoming smaller too. Together, those sensations changed my perspective in the blink of an eye, and I decided right then and there to do my best never to dwell on time lost or the circumstances that’d kept us apart until now.

Maybe lingering bitterness and anger would resurface every now and then—but bottom line, I didn’t wanna waste my precious time on the past.

“Leighton,” Darius said, nodding toward the hallway. “Ma wants somethin’.”

Oh. I untangled myself from Bo’s arms and got up. “Please adopt better taste in coffee until I get back.”

Ryan didn’t miss a beat. “That’s rich comin’ from someone who doesn’t know the taste of coffee to begin with.”

I rolled my eyes and went down the hall. Dammit, I should’ve had a quick comeback for that, but I just didn’t.

Mary was waiting outside my door, and her smile grew warmer as I approached.

“Can I do something, ma’am?” I asked.

“Oh—well, since you asked… You could start warming up to the idea of calling me Nana or Grandma, but you take your time, honey.” She didn’t let me process that tidbit before she moved on. “Willow would like to see you, if that’s all right. Did Ryan tell you she’s nonverbal in uncomfortable situations? At least, around people she doesn’t know well, I should add.”

I nodded hesitantly, the terms Nana and Grandma going on a loop in my brain. “Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded too and gestured for me to go in. “Wonderful. Just let her lead. She’s prepared some notes for you. I’d give you a heads-up if I knew what they were about, but that girl can be secretive sometimes.”

Hold on now, I thought I was done being nervous. But just like that, my stomach churned with unease. Willow and my dad had clearly shared a special bond, and I didn’t know how this was gonna unfold.

I mustered a weak smile and opened the door, right on time to see James get up off the couch where Willow was seated.

“I’ll let him know right now, sweetheart,” he said.

She nodded stiffly and didn’t look my way.

James came over and clasped his hands behind his back. “If she puts on her headphones at any point, she just needs a minute or two to gather her thoughts. But if it takes longer than that, come get her mother or me.”

“Of course, sir.” I nodded once.

He smiled and gave my arm a squeeze on the way out.

Without facing me, Willow gestured for me to sit on the bed across from her, so I did as instructed and hoped she’d warm up to me eventually.

She was holding a notepad, a larger one, and she clutched it to her chest as I sat down across from her.

Compared to the biological Quinns, Willow stood out with very dark hair, pale skin, and green eyes. She was also much shorter and much younger. Her cargo pants looked baggier and way softer than normal utility pants. I didn’t know what that top was called, but it fit fairly tight, and it had long sleeves and a wide neck.

She made eye contact for the briefest moment before she turned the notepad in her hands and showed me the first note.

I appreciated her handwriting was easy to read, and the words weren’t too small either.

1.) I’m sorry if I come across as cold. I’m very overwhelmed.

2.) Save your questions for the end.

I nodded dutifully and swallowed my nerves. “I understand.”

She nodded once too, and she tore off the first note to reveal the second.

I love my brothers and sister equally, but Jake was my first friend. He listened to me even when I didn’t speak. He was the first to understand my language. We could spend a whole day together barely saying a word. Or he talked. He’d make me laugh with corny jokes. He recharged my batteries with his presence, and I miss him every day.

Jesus Christ. My vision became blurry right away, and my throat felt thick.

She tore off that note too.

I’ll show you pictures sometime from when Jake was your age. You look just like him.

I nodded and swallowed hard, but a couple tears rolled down anyway, and I quickly wiped them away.

Her hand trembled as she left that note in the neat pile she created with others she’d shown me.

The next note was longer, and I had to lean forward a little to see better.

Since he died, people around me have tried to keep him alive in one way or another. My sister and brother-in-law named their firstborn Grace, because Jake once said if he had a girl, that’s what he would’ve named her. If he had a boy, he liked Todd and JJ. Thankfully, Todd died with Jake, but Ryan named one of his boys JJ. The only surviving soldier in Jake’s unit also named their kid after him.

We’re still big on Easter in our family because Jake loved that holiday for some weird reason. Ryan and Darius still quiz each other about a stack of homemade trading cards of Medal of Honor recipients that used to belong to Jake. Lias named his business after him. Mom lights a candle for him every Sunday, on his birthday, and on all holidays. Before I got married, my brother-in-law Avery would drive me to the airport and tell me stories about Jake for my annual visit to his grave. These days, since I go with my husband, Avery will text me a memory. They went to college together.

Now there’s you.

I coughed into my fist and sniffled.

I’d thought being attack-hugged by Mary would’ve been the biggest emotional assault, but this was quickly rising as a strong contender.

Willow cleared her throat and proceeded with another note.

Tears started rolling down her cheeks too.

When Mom told me about you, I almost shut down. All this grief came back, and I didn’t know how to process anything. But then I found out you’re at Hillcroft to become an operator, and that helped. Anger always helps. I’m so fucking angry, to this day, because Jake gave his life to save others. I don’t care how noble that was. What a hero he was. Because he’s dead. I’ll never get my brother back.

Unfortunately, he’s alive and well in my head, and he would’ve been pissed if I tried to make you feel guilty. So I will ask. Are you sure you want to become a Hillcroft operator? And before you answer…

I knitted my brows as she tore the note and went to the following note.

If you moved to Washington, you’d have your whole family in one place. You could easily find work. Ethan has his gym, Darius runs a fish camp, Ryan is in the process of opening a bar, Lias runs a wilderness resort in the mountains, and no cartel members or human traffickers will ever kill you.

A breath gusted out of me, and I wanted to both laugh and cry. Today had been so damn overwhelming that I could barely tell what was up and what was down. But the thought of leaving Hillcroft behind me was impossible. My own world, my little house of cards, was small and still fragile, but it was my own. I was building this for myself. I was making friends. I had Bo… I was crazy about him. I was crazy about him. And I loved training too. I wanted to be here.

I sniffled and wiped at my cheek. “Darius managed to live in Washington and still work here, right? I’d like to visit a lot. But Hillcroft has become my home.”

Willow pursed her lips and looked a little harrumph-y, then ripped two sheets of notes off, and she didn’t show me what was on them.

Option 2. Go figures. You’re a Quinn. Of course you’re gonna go off and risk your life.

Unfortunately for you, I can pull strings around this place, and I will tell you right now. You’ll never go on assignment without me in your ear. I’m making an appointment with Quinlan and Coach today to make sure I’ll run intelligence and comms on all your future cases.

Was that a threat?

“Okay,” I said, clearing my throat. “That works for me.” Why wouldn’t it? Ryan had said she was brilliant.

She made eye contact briefly and narrowed her eyes, as if she didn’t understand why I’d agreed so quickly. Had she genuinely considered that a threat, then? As something I’d fight against?

Instead of saying anything—or writing it in a note, rather—she nodded with a dip of her chin and ripped off another two notes from the pad.

The next one looked to be the last.

I don’t have any other notes. Do you have questions?

I took a breath and thought about it, but after everything today…? Christ, I’d probably need two weeks of recovery before my brain could come up with any questions.

“I think I’m too overwhelmed to process anything right now,” I admitted. “I’m just happy to have met you. And that nobody told me to go to hell or called me a liar.”

She stared at me blankly for a second or two before she went to write a new note, presumably an answer to what I’d said.

A moment later, she showed me the notepad.

Ryan told Darius that you’ve known about us for a while but were afraid to reach out. It was mentioned that you looked us up on social, but you couldn’t have done it in a suspicious way. I have software in place to pick up unusual activity from four different browsers, as well as social media platforms. If you’d behaved like a stalker, I would’ve known. (It’s a safety measure after years of worrying about Darius and Ryan potentially coming home with targets on their backs. I am their supreme leader in cybersec. And in Darius’s case, general tech support. He’s useless with technology.)

My mouth twitched, and I nodded minutely in understanding. “Once I found Ethan on Instagram, I’d usually find some of you in the comment section. Your sister is private on Facebook, but her Insta is more open. I mean, I can see her comments. She doesn’t have many photos. She does, however, have many witty responses to whatever Ethan posts about.”

My favorite was the time she replied to one of his motivational posts about working out at home with, “My God, you need a cupcake.”

Willow flashed a quick smile and wrote something else on the pad.

Elise and Darius are Ethan’s biggest trolls. It’s fun.

I grinned. “I didn’t know Darius was on there too. I’m assuming a very anonymous account.”

She nodded in confirmation and jotted another note for me.

I’ll make sure everyone adds you today. Not that Darius’s account is interesting. His purpose on social media is to leave comments on Ethan’s posts. You’ll usually see something like, “It’s way too early for this health bullshit. Pick a better time. I haven’t had my coffee yet.”

I chuckled. Fucking hell, this was surreal. Each sentence spoken about anyone in the Quinn family was a new puzzle piece falling into place.

“I only post memes of dad jokes and Army stuff on my account,” I admitted.

She raked her teeth over her bottom lip and wrote me a response.

If you set your account to private, I can teach you how to be safe online and still share a bit of your life. You’ll have an entire family in Washington jonesing for updates. Even Mom has accounts.

I took a breath and let another rush of relief run through me. They were including me in things, and nothing made me happier.

“I’d like that.” I mustered a smile as I pushed back my emotions. Enough was enough. I’d cried in front of everybody already.

She nodded firmly and wrote a shorter note next.

I have reached my limit for social interaction. Can you go get my parents?

Oh. Right, yeah. “Of course.” I got up from the bed and…paused when I noticed her scribbling something quickly on the notepad.

She showed it to me seconds later.

Leave your online handles with Mom so I can share them with everyone.

I smiled. “I will.”

I walked out with a huge weight off my shoulders, and I wasn’t too surprised to find Mary lingering a few feet away, as if she’d been waiting.

She looked up and walked over to me. “How did it go, dear? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

I exhaled a chuckle and rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah, everything’s fine. She just reached her limit for social interaction—her words. She asked me to get you and Mr. Quinn.”

Mary beamed and squeezed my hand. “How many times I’ve heard her and Elise say that. I’ll go check on her.” She turned toward the rec room and hollered for James to join her, and it didn’t take long before he reappeared and moseyed down the hall.

Wait, what was… I did a double take after a brief glance toward the library, and I saw Bo and Darius at one of the tables there. Why were they alone? If they were talking work…

I excused myself to go see what was up, and I winced when I turned too quickly. That bruise on my stomach really hurt sometimes.

Since Bo had his back to me, Darius spotted me first, but he didn’t look like he was giving Bo a heads-up about my approach. He continued with whatever he was saying, his expression remaining the same.

“…to submit an HW-27 form—and I don’t see why Quinlan would deny it,” he was saying. “Frankly, Vince shoulda done this already.”

“There’s a lot he should’ve done,” Bo muttered. He must’ve heard me at that point, because he looked over his shoulder and smiled faintly. “Hey, pup. How did it go?”

“I cried. ’Cause that’s what I do now.” I stopped in front of their table, and I didn’t want their topic to fade away. “What’s an HW-27 form?”

His eyes flashed with a pinch of amusement, and he carefully leaned back in his seat and adjusted his leg, which was by no means held in an upright and straight position. Goddammit.

“It’s a request to open up old case files that might help with a new one,” he replied. “Over the years, we’ve probably worked six or seven Hahn-related assignments, so…”

“I’d double that,” Darius said.

I pointed to Bo’s leg. “You can’t go shooting more Hahns with that leg.”

He grinned a little and pulled me to him, and he stuck a hand down the back pocket of my pants. “He worries about me.”

Darius smirked. “It’s a good feeling.”

Bo peered up at me. “It is.”

Well, all right, then. Good.

“You don’t have to worry anytime soon, kid,” Darius said, capturing my attention again. “Omar Said gets shit done, but he’s a meticulous planner, and there’s no way he could’ve foreseen everything going sideways the other day. He has to start fresh with a new plan, and it’s going to take months.”

I tilted my head. “How can he be in a top position if he doesn’t possess the smarts to have backup plans?”

He inclined his head. “I’ll rephrase. The plan might exist, but he operates on a larger scale. Executing it will take months. And now we know who to keep an eye on. Intel will be all over this.”

That made more sense. To set up a new drug route or whatever he might plan required land, property, manpower, and a big network. Not to mention the logistics.

It made me curious, though. “Would you let him execute any part of his plan, then?”

Bo weighed his answer. “Technically, yes. We need time to map out his routines and behaviors so we can learn how to predict them. It would also help if we could lure him to a specific location for his final days.”

Oh, we’d read about that in training. Legacy had told us about a case during the Cold War—two American agents had dug so deep into a KGB agent’s life that they could manipulate his daily schedule without raising too much suspicion. And on the day they had killed him, they’d essentially created a ripple effect, starting with a slashed tire on the KGB guy’s neighbor’s car. Not his own—the neighbor’s. Because that had prompted the KGB agent to take another route to work, then one thing led to another, and the spy had fallen into several traps that ultimately led to his death.

Tanner, always with his hand in the air, had asked why they’d gone through the hassle. Why they hadn’t just taken him out with a gun or poison or whatever. And Legacy had said, “The perfect murder is only perfect if you’ve never heard of it. Until the end of the war, the Russians believed their agent had died in a fire—an accident, along with all the intel he sat on.”

I figured it out. “You wanna take him out without Karl Hahn suspecting foul play and retaliating.”

Bo merely smiled.

“He catches on quick,” Darius noted.

I stood a little taller.

“He’s a good recruit,” Bo answered. “One might even mistake him for a Quinn.”

Damn. Just like that, my ears felt hot.

Darius smiled, and he actually looked pleased.

That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

Maybe I was dead. Maybe I’d done enough good deeds, and this was my reward, to finally be happy. In which case…

Welcome to my personal heaven.