Page 23

Jules

I probably should feel foolish for last night. For pouring out my heart the way I did, but when I woke this morning, I couldn’t deny that I felt a bit lighter than I did when I went to bed.

Riley was asleep on the other end of the couch, sitting up with his head propped on his hand. I’d spent a few minutes studying the handsome lines of his face, the strength that radiates from him even when he sleeps, before heading into the kitchen to distract myself.

There’s a sleeping giant buried beneath his charming guy exterior. And I don’t doubt that he’s capable of being a deadly enemy. Even in my grief last night, I couldn’t keep from once again noticing the few scars on his arms and hair-dusted chest. He’s taken some hits, yet remains standing.

I guess we have that in common. Though I doubt he’s ever turned to a vice to cope with his pain.

What I can’t figure out is why he seems to care about me so much? Is it truly just because he feels as though God wants him to protect me? Do I believe that God brought him to me?

I crack a few more eggs into the bowl and scramble it up, then check the biscuits I put in the oven five minutes ago. It’s a late breakfast, given that it’s nearly ten in the morning, but I’d wanted to let Riley sleep as long as I could.

A knock at the door shocks me enough I nearly knock the bowl of scrambled eggs onto the floor. Romeo lets out a bark, so I rush out of the kitchen and start toward the living room to wake Riley.

He’s already on his feet though, gun in hand as he heads toward the front door. He puts his finger up to his lips and tells me to get back into the kitchen. I do as he says, hiding just out of view but grabbing a knife from the block just in case.

I hear the door open then muffled voices.

“You can come out,” Riley calls out.

I keep the knife in hand and come around the corner. Every single one of Riley’s brothers stands in my foyer, all of them dressed in dark suits.

“Hey, Jules,” Tucker greets with a kind smile, his blue eyes seemingly brighter when compared to the dark suit.

“Hey. What are you guys doing here?”

“Backup,” Elliot replies with a smile. “What is that smell?”

“Breakfast,” I reply with a smile. “And I guess I need to make some more eggs.”

“I’ll help,” Riley offers, his gun holstered at his lower back.

All of the brothers move past me and into the kitchen while Romeo wiggles his butt, happily greeting each one of them.

The relief that I feel knowing they’ll all be there today surprises me. It’s going to be a hard day. Between dealing with Odie and the funeral, I’d honestly wondered how I was going to survive it.

Now I know.

I’ll have my own private army.

By the time I’ve set the knife down, Riley is already cracking more eggs into the bowl, and I check the biscuits again, so grateful that I went ahead and made the full recipe so there will be plenty.

All of the noise soothes the nerves that I’ve had since I woke this morning—it helps drown out the voices in my head. The ones that tell me I have no business going to this funeral because I was such a disappointment.

Dressed in my black dress and a pair of black heels, I walk into the funeral home alongside Riley. All of the other four Hunt brothers walk just behind us. Since Romeo is a service animal, he’s beside Riley, his sharp ears perked forward as he studies everything around us.

“Welcome,” an older woman in a dark gray suit greets. Her eyes are wide, hungry gaze appreciatively scanning over all of the men with me. “Well, you certainly have brought an army with you, haven’t you, Ms. Landers?”

“Something like that,” I reply, not at all surprised she recognized me. After all, there’s a large photograph of me, my grandfather, and Odie front and center.

“Right. Well. This way, please.” She starts walking, but I remain where I am.

How did I think I was strong enough to do this?

I’m not strong enough to do this. I know that I’m not. So why am I here?

My feet are rooted in the spot, and breathing feels impossible, thanks to the lump in my throat. I don’t see Odie anywhere, and as I look around, I’m surprised to realize that I don’t recognize most of these people.

Was I really that out of the loop? That afraid to leave the house that I didn’t know anyone my grandfather was friends with?

Riley’s fingers thread through mine, and the contact steadies me.

“I’m right here, okay?” he says.

I nod because I’m fairly certain, if I start talking, only tears will come.

With his quiet strength beside me, I manage to put one foot in front of the other until I’m standing in a small room with rows of crimson-colored pews. Ahead, on a wooden stage, is a flower-covered coffin.

The dark wood gleams beneath soft lights above.

A picture of my grandfather stands beside the coffin, a black-and-white from his early acting days.

“I’ll be right out here if you need anything,” the woman says.

“Actually, I’d like to talk to you about security,” Bradyn says. His voice might as well be a million miles away, though, because all I can see is that coffin. This is real.

It’s all real.

He’s gone.

My grandfather is never coming back.

“Come on, let’s take a seat, okay?” Riley guides me toward the left side of the room and sits beside me. Romeo lies down at my feet.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” My shoulders begin to shake, and Riley releases my hand to wrap an arm around me. It doesn’t feel stifling, not like most contact does. Instead, when he touches me, it’s as though some of his strength seeps into me, helping me be stronger too.

“You can,” he replies, no doubt in his tone. “You can do this,” he replies. “And you don’t have to do it alone.”

Somehow, I made it through the service. Through the lovely people saying lovely things about my grandfather. Odie spoke, but I was not invited to come up. Something I can’t say I’m upset about since I’m fairly certain no words would have come out even if I were asked to speak.

As I watch the strongest man I’ve ever known get lowered into the ground, I do what I can to keep myself together so I can leave this place and never come back. He’s being buried right beside where my mom, dad, and Odie’s mom are all buried. All of our tragic moments in one place.

Odie steps up in front of me, and Riley stiffens. I’ve felt his anger anytime my brother came into view, and it’s no exception now. Though this is the first time Odie has bothered trying to talk to me.

“Jules, can I speak to you?”

“Of course. What do you want to talk about?”

“In private,” he replies, gaze traveling over all of the brothers. “I don’t see why you needed to bring them here. I hired security.”

“We’re not here to protect her,” Tucker says with a smile.

“Then why are you here?” Odie replies, his tone arrogant. Big mistake.

“They’re here to protect you,” Riley growls. “From me.”

“Me? And just what reason do I have to fear you?”

Riley doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to.

Because Odie’s gaze travels between us, and he shakes his head, a knowing grin on his face.

“Oh, I see. The drunk spewed some lies and drama about how everything was my fault, and now you’ve decided to go all macho, huh?

Well, news flash, Mr. Hunt, I am not afraid of you.

With the snap of my finger, I could bury you. ” He snaps for effect.

Every single one of the brothers moves in a bit closer. It’s subtle, but the very air around us shifts and goes deadly still.

“Let me make something very clear,” Riley says. “Should you even look at Jules wrong, your fingers won’t be the only thing to snap.”

Odie pales.

He opens his mouth to speak.

Something warm sprays my face. Odie’s eyes go wide. Riley is tackling me to the ground before I can even fully process the red spot blooming on the front of my brother’s once-crisp white shirt.

I scream.

People scatter.

“We have to find cover!” Riley roars as he rips me up to my feet but keeps me in front of him. His weapon is drawn, and his brothers fire in the direction of the shooter.

My blood pounds in my ears.

Death.

So much death.

Another shot fired. Riley grunts behind me. I turn, but he shakes his head and rushes me forward. We drop down behind a large headstone, Romeo at our side. The dog is panting, his ears perked forward as he awaits a command from his master.

“Odie,” I say. “Odie is dead. He died.”

“We don’t know that,” Riley replies as he shrugs out of his jacket. He hisses in pain, and I note the blood staining his side.

“You were shot.”

He raises his shirt, revealing a toned stomach smeared with blood. “I was just grazed. I’ll be fine.” He shoves it back down then rolls up to the balls of his feet and leans out.

In the distance, tires squeal as someone peels out of the cemetery.

“All clear!” Bradyn calls out.

My heart continues slamming against my ribs, even as Riley helps me to my feet.

“Stay behind me just in case,” he says.

The second I see Odie on the ground, Elliot applying pressure to his chest, I push my way around Riley. “Odie!” I call out, falling to my knees beside him.

“Call an ambulance,” Odie growls to a man I’ve only seen a time or two over the years. I know he works for my brother’s security detail though.

“Already done, sir,” he says.

“You’re going to live,” Elliot replies. “It’s a through and through.”

“I was shot!” Odie yells.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve all been shot. Well, except for me,” Tucker says. “I’m too fast.”

“Any idea who the shooter was?” Riley asks Bradyn.

“We got a look at the car, a white sedan with Washington plates,” he says. “Tucker has the plate written down, and he’ll look into it.”

Bradyn looks around the cemetery. “Since they kept shooting even after Odie was hit, I’m assuming he wasn’t the intended target.”

“That, or they both were,” Dylan replies.

“What is going on? Who would do this? Why is this happening?” I’m spiraling—I feel it. My heart rate alone is enough to put me into a full-blown panic attack.

“Stop being so weak,” Odie spits out. “You weren’t even hi—ow!”

“Oops,” Elliot replies. “Did that hurt?”

“I’d suggest watching your tone,” Riley warns. “I’m willing to let you bleed out.”

“I’m not,” his security guard replies. “You’ll keep pressure until the ambulance arrives.”

“Will I?” Elliot asks. “That sounds an awful lot like an order and not one I intend to take.”

“Not an order, merely a suggestion. Because it’s in all of our best interests that Mr. Landers survives.”