Chapter 6
ZANE
It’s amazing the difference a week can make.
This time last week, Cole, Leo, Finn and I were still in Boston, wrapping up security for a fundraising event.
Nora and Jackson were still at his parents’ house just outside Albany, celebrating the holiday early with them.
Elle was just getting home from class and heading up to Maya’s apartment to help her wrap gifts.
Everything was normal. Uneventful. Safe.
This time last week, the idea of someone breaking into headquarters never crossed my mind.
How could they, after all? With all the security we have here—the motion detectors and cameras and biometric keypads and fences that could withstand pretty much anything short of an actual tank—I assumed everyone here was safe.
When I left for Boston two days prior, I knew I’d miss Elle and Noel, but I wasn’t worried about them.
Okay, I was a little worried. I always am, even when Elle heads to the grocery store less than two miles away. But that’s just me. “Overprotective to the ‘nth degree,” Elle likes to tease me. “My hero, always ready to spring into action.”
If I am? I’ll make no apologies for wanting to keep the people I love safe. My wife. My son. My Blade and Arrow family.
Besides that, Elle likes it when I get all protective.
Though she hates to admit it, she still gets scared sometimes, like when a stranger stares at her too long or we’re walking across a parking lot at night.
Then she snuggles close to me, allowing me to pull her into the safety of my arms. She asks me which moves I’d use if someone tried to attack us, reassured when I reel off a string of wicked punches and kicks.
Then, once we’re back home, she asks if I’ll demonstrate some of them.
Shirtless, she always clarifies. And I’m glad to oblige, because there aren’t many things I like more than my beautiful wife running her hands across my bare skin, tracing the lines of my abs before venturing lower.
And then I turn the tables on her, peeling her clothes off and carrying her off to bed, ravishing her body and kissing each adorable freckle.
So the overprotectiveness works for both of us.
Or it has, up until that piece of shit Lance Forrester broke into Blade and Arrow and held my wife and son hostage.
When he scared Elle so badly, she’s had nightmares every night since then; waking on a strangled scream, convinced Noel is hurt or missing.
Noel hasn’t seemed to be affected by the experience, thankfully. Thanks to Maya and Elle keeping their cool while they were held in the storage closet, the kids came away from the experience relatively unscathed.
“I was Mommy’s helper,” Clara informed me solemnly the following day. “She said we were on a ’venture. And ’cause I’m a big girl, I helped with the babies.”
Never one to be left out, little Lily immediately tugged on my arm. “I big girl too, Unca Zane. I read to Sam. He like it.”
Cole, Maya, Leo, and Georgia are still going to bring Clara and Lily to a counselor, just to make sure they’re handling things okay. But given how brave their parents are, I have a feeling Clara and Lily are going to be just fine.
We’ll all be fine, eventually. The bruises on Georgia’s neck and Hanna’s jaw are already fading.
Rylan’s bullet wound will heal. The jagged edges of the memories will soften.
Six months from now, I won’t be reminded of that terrible night whenever I walk past the conference room.
Fear won’t clutch at me whenever Elle and Noel are out of sight.
But for now, the memories are still far too fresh to ignore.
“It’s still Christmas,” Elle reminded me the other day, after I protested when she wanted to take Noel into town for the Reindeer Rodeo.
“And I want Noel to experience all of it. I know it’s hard, going back out there.
I’m nervous about it, too. But I’m not letting that jerk take our holiday away from us. I’m not going to let him win.”
As with most things, Elle was right.
So we went to the Reindeer Rodeo, along with the rest of my team and their partners and kids. We met up with our Sleepy Hollow friends and enjoyed the day. We took the cutest pictures of Noel petting a baby reindeer, and we made new memories to replace the bad.
Like tonight.
Everyone is gathered in our new communal living room to celebrate Christmas Eve together.
What started out as a small potluck and informal Secret Santa gift exchange has grown into something much bigger.
Six years ago, Cole insisted on doing something special for Maya’s first Christmas at B and A.
So we gave each other silly gifts and watched Die Hard while gorging ourselves on a buffet of takeout.
Now, we have a giant tree with mountains of presents beneath it.
We have a buffet table heaped with food—all homemade, some better than others.
The silly gifts have morphed into more meaningful ones.
Instead of Die Hard, we watch kid-appropriate movies like Frosty and the Grinch.
And once all the kids are asleep, we share a moment of thanks together.
A moment of gratitude for all we’ve been through and how far we’ve come.
After all, could I have ever imagined when I separated from the Army that my team would ever come together again? Would I have thought I’d fall in love with one of our clients, marry her, and have our perfect son? Could I ever have dreamed I’d be this happy?
No. I couldn’t have. But here I am.
Sitting in front of the Christmas tree with Elle by my side and Noel asleep in my lap, surrounded by my closest friends.
Watching Clara and Lily as they read Christmas stories to Ansel and Porter, the latter of them bribed into complacency by the bones Finn and Hanna gave them.
Smelling the aroma of pine and cinnamon from the tree and the candles lit around the room.
Feeling Elle’s body pressed against mine, memorizing the softness of her curves and the silken glide of her hair against my chin.
I’m so damn grateful for all of it.
And I wish I could kill that fucker for almost taking it away from me.
But he’s in jail, awaiting trial for breaking and entering, attempted murder, assault, and a host of other charges. With eyewitness accounts plus the evidence found on Forrester’s computer, there’s no chance of that asshole being released for decades. And I’ll have to be satisfied with that.
Well. I could call Rafe. He knows people who know people in the prison system. People who could arrange for an unfortunate accident. But I’ve never taken a life outside of duty, and I’d rather not start now.
Although, if I’d been there when Forrester held a gun on Elle…
“Relax,” Elle whispers. She strokes my jaw, gently rubbing at the clenched muscles there. Then she kisses my cheek. “Everyone’s fine.”
Turning to her, I work my features into a smile. “I know.”
One brow arches up. “Really? Because I was getting worried about your teeth.”
“My teeth?”
Her lips curve up. “Yes. Your teeth. I was wondering if I’d have to make an appointment for you to go to the dentist. Since you seem to be intent on grinding your teeth into stumps.”
I bare my teeth at her. “Nope. Still all here.”
Elle laughs softly. “Thank goodness.” Then she leans in to kiss me.
She tastes of sugar and sweet cream from the half-filled glass of eggnog on the coffee table in front of us.
Her hair brushes my cheek, bringing with it a hint of the coconut shampoo she uses.
When she pulls away, she adds, “I love you no matter what. But I do like your smile. I think I’d prefer to keep it as it is. ”
“You like my smile, hmm?” I flash her a ridiculously wide grin. “Should I walk around like this all the time, then?”
Elle giggles. The sound of it releases some of the tension banded around my chest. “Yes,” she replies, “you should definitely walk around like that. It wouldn’t be odd at all.”
A beat later, she grimaces as she flashes a quick look at Noel. But he’s still sacked out, his sweet face peaceful as he dreams his innocent baby dreams of reindeer and Christmas cookies and being held by parents who love him.
I brush his hair off his forehead. “Don’t worry. After the excitement of today, I think he’s out for the count.”
“It’s been a good day, hasn’t it?” Elle asks. Her expression softens. “I know it’s technically Noel’s second Christmas. But he was so little last year, he couldn’t appreciate any of it.”
I’m not going to remind Elle that our newly-one-year-old son probably won’t remember any of this Christmas, either. She will. I will. And that’s the important thing.
“Is there a reason you’re over there, grinning like a loon?” Cole asks. He’s seated on the couch perpendicular to us, with Maya right beside him. Like Noel, James is fast asleep on Cole’s lap.
“Zane’s always a loon,” Rylan answers for me. He’s sitting on the floor, pushing a toy train around for Sam. Charlie has her phone out, snapping photos of them.
“Who’s a loon?” Finn asks. He’s over at the buffet table, loading up his plate again.
Hanna lowers her camera. She’s been taking pictures of Clara, Lily, Ansel, and Porter, and I fully expect to see some of them framed and hung on the wall soon. “Zane’s a loon,” she tells her husband. “As always.”
Finn laughs. “That sounds about right.”
I swipe a cherry tomato from my plate and fling it at Finn. He bats it away, and it lands on the floor, where Porter makes an eager lunge for it.
“Mom.” Clara frowns at Porter, who’s already inhaled the tomato and is now sniffing around for more. “Porter ate off the floor. We’re not ’sposed to do that. Are we?”
“People aren’t supposed to eat off the floor,” Maya replies. “But dogs are different. It’s okay if they do.”
Clara’s little face screws up in thought. “Like how dogs and people go potty different?”
Maya smothers a laugh. Then she looks pointedly at Cole. “Do you want to handle that one, honey?”