Page 6 of Sigma

“Thank you,” I say. “I’ll feel better with Duke around.”

“None of those guys are spring chickens anymore,” Valentine says, “but I trust them over anyone else. Duke still spars with the recruits, and they’re all scared shitless of him. He also runs that close quarters and urban combat training facility at their place in Colorado you and Layla trained at recently, so you know his combat skill are as sharp as ever.”

I glance over my shoulder—Cal is dressed in his suit, hair pulled back in a neat man-bun, carrying a black necktie in one hand and a small duffel bag in the other. I tug at Valentine’s phone to check the time—less than ten minutes. A small victory, for Cal—having been born and raised in the Caribbean, he definitely has an intrinsic sense of “island time.”

Valentine claps Cal on the back as he approaches. “There you go, son. Looking crisp.”

Cal rolls his eyes. “Crisp? No one says that, Dad.”

“I say it.” Valentine gives him a playful push toward the edge of the dock, causing Cal to windmill his arms to stay out of the water. “Once upon a time, if I was quoted as having said something was crisp, that phrase would have been on trend within twenty-four hours.”

Cal just laughs. “Yeah, once upon a time, a long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…in your dreams.”

Valentine gives him another playful shove toward the sea jet. “Get in there, doofus, before I change my mind.” He follows Cal to the open door of the idling aircraft. “Say goodbye to your mother, boy.”

I’ve followed them to the doorway, and Cal turns around and lifts me in a big, boyish bear hug.

“Be good, Cal. Listen and learn.” I kiss his cheek, and, good boy that he is, he allows it with a minimum of embarrassed squawking. “I’m proud of you for stepping up like this.”

“Where’s Killian and the others?” Valentine asks.

“Killian is seeing the guys off—he’s going to ride with us to Charlotte and hang with Auntie Lay-Lay, Rin, and Bryn.”

Killian and Bryn often stay summers down here with us, and other times Cal and Rin spend the summers up in the Keys with Layla and Harris—or, as the kids refer to them, Auntie Lay-Lay and Uncle Harry. I’m not sure they’re even aware that his name is actually Nicholas, come to think of it—he’s been Uncle Harry since Rin started talking.

The other guys, living locally, have a small island-hopper boat they take to get from here to St. Croix. I’m not really even sure who owns it or the legality of minors operating it; but then, little do they know, they’re always monitored from a discreet distance by our security team from point to point, to ensure they arrive safely.

Cal pats me on the head. “Thanks, Mom. Love you. I gotta go, now.” He wriggles in my hold. “Okay, you can let go, now.”

I reluctantly let go of him, pat him on the chest and back away. “Okay, fine. But be safe, okay?”

“It’s two or three days in New York, Mom. I think we’ll be okay.”

“I know,” I say. “But it’s my job as your mom to worry.”

“And you do a wonderful job at it,” he quips. “You’re, like, a professional worrier. What could possibly happen?”

I snort. “Donotask that question, buddy. The world likes to answer it, I’ve discovered.”

He rolls his eyes. “We’ll befine.”

Killian comes running, still in board shorts but now with a tank top and flip-flops.

Valentine waves him aboard, and once they’re both seated and buckled, he pulls me close for one more hug and a deep, hot kiss. “We’ll be back before you know it, babe. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Bring my boy back safe, okay?”

He taps me on the nose. “Don’t miss me too much.”

I wink at him. “You know I will.”

He sniffs his fingers surreptitiously, grins at me, and then closes the door. A moment later, the aircraft backs away from the dock, pushes away and heads for open water. Once they’re a safe distance from shore, I hear the engines spool up, and the ocean is churned into white spray, and the sea jet picks up speed. Then they’re airborne, and then they’re a speck…

And then I’m alone on the island.

For the first time…ever, actually.

I really don’t like it.