Page 8

S itting back in my chair, I run a hand through my hair, grimacing as my fingers snag on the tangles.

I can't remember the last time I left the office over the last twenty or so hours, let alone run a comb through my hair. Not that it matters. No, the only thing that matters is finding the bastards that dared to arrest Tennant and Joel.

Scouring the police and court databases has been my priority, leaving everything else to Leandro. I just finished going over everything I gave him, and am impressed by how far the boy has come in a few short years.

It worries me because his impulse control is shit, and the last thing we need is for him to get into trouble. He’s stopped breaking into police databases without my knowledge, but that doesn’t really mean much when it comes to Leandro. I wouldn’t put it past him to purposefully get caught. Getting Tennant out has been a nightmare on its own, and that's by going through legal means, if Leandro were ever to let his impulses get the best of him... Nightmare is the closest I could come to that situation.

Speaking of my son, I turn to look at him after he tosses a wadded up paper at me.

“The fuck was that for?”

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

I scowl at him. “What do you want?”

He huffs. “Thought you'd like to know they're on their way back.”

My breath catches even as my heart speeds up. Various emotions like happiness, anger, and relief are all mixed with the utter devastation I've been battling.

I know how the court system works, and I understand that nothing gets done quickly—though Sinclair and his merry band of minions have been working overnight to come up with reasons why it would benefit Tennant and Joel to be let out on bail—yet none of that made it any easier.

When Gerald Bradley kidnapped Tennant as an attempt to lure me out, I knew what Ten meant to me. As much as I love Roman and Jude, and what we've built, none of it matters without Tennant.

I thought I was better. I am better. My anxiety and hangups haven't had such a firm grip on me in a while. Time and the death of that bastard have helped. Of course it'd be something to do with Tennant that gets me to fall back on my bad habits.

“How far out are they?”

“Sinclair said they were leaving the courthouse. Enough time for you to look like a human again. Or do you want Tennant to know you haven't been taking care of yourself?”

I grimace as I push away from my desk, knowing he'll take one good look at me and figure out I've barely left my office, but I can at least pretend I'm put together.

“I'll go shower then. Call if anything happens.”

“You know I will. Now, go.”

I head to the door but stop and look at Leandro. “Thank you. You've done a good job since this all started, I'm proud of you.”

He looks over his shoulder and flares at me, his navy eyes are far too serious for someone so young. “Don't start having emotions now; save it for Ten.”

Huffing a laugh, I leave the office and head upstairs.

T he shower did a world of good at helping ease some of the tension, and I stayed under the hot water for longer than normal. I can admit, at least here on my own, that maybe I overdid it.

But I don't know what any of them expected me to do. We're barely getting anywhere in finding the Bosses, the police are breathing down the back of every aspect of the business, and they clearly have bigger balls than any of us have given them credit for.

I'm hanging on by a thread, and Tennant being taken almost snapped it.

Standing in front of the mirror, I run a comb through my too long hair. The dark brown strands fall into my face, and for a moment, I have half a mind to cut it all off. I'm annoyed enough to not care that I hate short hair.

Tossing the comb onto the counter, I set my hands on top of the marble and lean over, dropping my head down and taking slow, measured breaths, trying and failing to get myself under control.

The feelings I've repressed while uselessly sitting in my office as Tennant was fucking arrested bubble up, and I let out a scream through clenched teeth.

I'm shaking with the force of my raging emotions, tears forming at the corner of my eyes, and my throat locks up as a sob builds in my chest.

So focused on the maelstrom inside, I don't notice what's going on around me until strong, familiar arms wrap around me.

“Shhh. It's alright, Tesoro. I got you. We're okay.”

I break.

Turning in his arms, I look into hard, ice blue eyes, seeing in them the same barely-restrained rage that's bubbling in me, and I clutch at him.

“Ten…”

“I got you, Hol,” he says. “They're not taking me from you. Ever.”

Falling into him, I let him hold me close as I cry several days’ worth of tears. Safe in the knowledge that he's here , and we'll take those bastards down, together.