Page 112 of The Souls We Claim

“No. They’re fine. We gave them some of our supplies.”

“If you say so. But at least put four bottles of water outside the door in case they need them.”

“I already left a case of twelve and gave them the location of more on the property.” The property he, Bates, and Switch staked out, walked around in excess of fifty times identifying possible entrances and exits.

In the candlelight, it’s easy to imagine what Halo must have looked like in uniform. Tall and imposing. Armed and dangerous. Focused.

“Do you have any photographs of you in uniform?” I ask. There weren’t any in his home.

“Why?” he asks.

“Just wondering how you filled out your uniform.”

He opens his phone, scrolls around for a couple of minutes, and then hands it to me. “There’s three. Full dress uniform, then two on deployment.”

The first one is a proper military picture. “You look very handsome. And look at your hair!” It’s short.

“Grew it as soon as I was discharged,” he says with a huff.

“I like it better now.”

I scroll to the next. This one, he’s in fatigues, or whatever they call their deployment uniform. Khaki camouflage, a helmet, dark sunglasses, a weapon close to his chest, but he’s laughing. “Can I get a copy of this one?” I ask.

“Whatever you want, kitten. You like it?”

“You’re laughing. I like that.”

The tension lines in his forehead seem to relax a little.

The final one is of a group of men. “Your unit?”

“My team, yeah. Our second deployment to Afghanistan.” They’re smiling for the camera, but as I zoom in on Jax’s face, I can see the fatigue etched in his handsome features.

“Thank you for your service, Jax.”

Jax smiles as I hand him his phone back. “My pleasure.”

I drop onto the sofa and watch Lola, seated on a deep-piled rug, turn the pages of a thickly paged book. Her little hands shake with excitement as she turns them over.

“Book,” she says, waving it at me.

“It is a book. You are such a clever girl.” I look at Jax. “Why are we keeping the lights so dim?”

Jax takes my hairbrush off the small table and moves behind the sofa. He smooths his hands over my hair before kissing the top of my head, then proceeds to brush my hair. “The same reason we left the truck and bikes down the road once we emptied them. It’s to make the place look like it isn’t being lived in right now. The candlelight won’t seep through the curtains as it’s not bright enough.”

The brush strokes are soothing. I love when someone plays with my hair. I also like when Halo pulls on it when we have sex. But there is something impossibly intimate and reassuring in the way he gathers each section of hair and pulls the bristles through it.

Tiny shivers ripple through me, bringing a sense of tremendous ease. And it’s a soul-deep reminder that this man remembers to care for me, even when his world is a whirlwind of terror.

For a moment, it’s like the chaos outside the front door doesn’t exist.

When we arrived earlier, in daylight, the cabin looked absolutely charming. The front door leads into a lovely open space with a kitchen to the right, a dining area to the left, and a large comfortable sofa and fireplace in the middle. There is a lovely bedroom, a small-but-functional bathroom, and the surprise safe room.

The safe room was constructed out of the only closet space in the living room and was expanded into the kitchen. It was big enough for four people to sit on padded benches along the wall.Weapons sit in cases on the walls, each one with a key code Halo was given. There is a small fridge stocked with drinks and a shelf above it with snacks and nonperishable items. By the door is a touch screen panel that King told us would set off a string of alerts to Vex and others and show us the feed from the cameras attached to the outside of the house.

It was surprisingly comforting to know of its existence. And slightly shocking to hear from Halo on the drive up how King had used the cabin when he kidnapped Rae.

Plus, it means we aren’t so far away from the rest of the Outlaws that it would take long for them to get to us. An hour maybe.