Chapter 9 #2
“That’s part of it, yes. The rest is ‘need to know,’” I say seriously, because while my faith in them is slowly developing, I can’t trust them with this yet.
Kade? Perhaps, but until I’m absolutely sure, I don’t want their noses in something they don’t understand.
Kade will receive what’s just under our highest authorization settings, so Carter and I can still monitor him closely, but his skills don’t need to go to waste.
Satori doesn’t need to know any of that because he’s receiving the basic permissions, and I don’t feel like arguing about it now.
Satori sits up a little straighter, like he’s going to argue and ask for more details, until the door slowly creaks open.
Ashia comes into view and illuminates the entire space.
She takes small steps inside but then pauses in the archway like she’s afraid of disrupting us.
That anxiousness from her hasn’t come out in a while, and it worries me.
Her face is somehow tense and drooped at the same time, showing her exhaustion and sadness.
There are subtle dark circles under her eyes, and her body looks tight, like she’s carrying twice her weight on her shoulders.
These past couple of weeks have been hard on everyone, but especially on her.
Between the mass attack, Charlie’s and Taylor’s deaths, Emmett’s rough recovery, and now taking care of Zeke—all on top of growing our baby in her womb—everything is starting to take its toll.
“What's wrong, baby?” I immediately drop the paperwork in my hands back onto the table. Her eyes meet mine after a quick assessment of the room, and she shakes her head lightly.
“There’s nothing wrong. I don’t mean to interrupt,” she says softly, and acts like she’s going to step back out, but I immediately shake my head to stop her.
Is she backing off because she heard Satori at our last meeting?
Does she actually think I give a single fuck about what his masochistic ass thinks?
“Ashia.” I call for her in a gentle, yet warning tone—to let her know she’s not going to back down so easily.
Her eyes meet mine again, and then her features soften ever so lightly.
She knows that no matter what is happening around us, she always comes first. All she would need is to deem this meeting over, and I’d force them to leave.
Instead of answering me, though, she walks deeper into the room and doesn’t stop until she reaches me.
I scoot over just enough to welcome her in, and that’s when her need for affection reaches me.
It’s clear that she’s not feeling well mentally on top of the physical wariness, and she only makes that more apparent as she sits in my lap.
Her arms snake around my torso, and I tuck my arm under to support her as I lean back.
The moment her head rests on my chest and she takes a deep breath, I can feel her relax in my arms—like I’ve somehow provided everything she needed just by existing.
The rest of the world fades away as I wrap my arms around her and hold her against me.
My entire reason for living rests literally in my hands, and nothing ever feels more right than when she’s right here.
She curls up so perfectly, and as my fingers rake through her soft, long locks of hair, she dozes off, clearly feeling the same relief as I do.
I caress her head as I reach for the papers again, then look over them while remaining as quiet as possible.
I’ve examined the details of their men dozens of times over the past few days, but I can’t help but assess them again and again.
I need to be thorough, especially since they’re going to be around my family.
Just when I think Kade and Satori will use this time to do the same, my concentration is broken when I hear someone clearing their throat.
As I painfully direct my attention to the infuriating sound, I look at Kade first. He wouldn’t have the audacity to intervene in the moment, but he's looking directly at the one who does. Kade’s eyebrows are raised, and he has a disbelieving look on face, like even he is surprised Satori would speak right now.
“Do you need a minute?” Satori asks in a tone that I’m sure he meant to portray as genuine, but the annoyance behind it only serves to push my aggression further. “I’m not sure this is a good conversation for a woman in her state.”
That last word, spoken with an exaggerated pronunciation, immediately causes my body temperature to spike.
My gaze hardens on him, and I move my shaky hand to her belly before I speak, just to get my point across.
I’m sure to lean forward enough to make my dominance clear.
Ashia’s confidence and strength are something she continues to struggle with, and I won’t stand for anyone making it harder for her.
“The only person who has as much influence in Devil’s Hands as me, is my wife.
I only hold the reins. She’s in charge here, and is the only authority you should hold above anyone else—including your own.
You should hold her deity before God with the grace and patience she’s shown you.
She knows everything that we deal with. We don’t do secrets here, and we certainly don’t act like sexist pieces of shit.
Keep belittling her presence here, and I'll show you just how little you're worth. Her state is none of your concern. She is my wife, and she is carrying my baby. They are fucking mine. Keep your thoughts to yourself, and if she ever hears the blasphemy you spill from your lips, I’ll cut out your tongue.”
He leans forward as well in a challenging gesture and flattens one hand on the wooden surface between us.
His gaze sharpens like knives, the electricity in the room charging to a tipping point.
He wants to fight, to appoint himself on a higher pedestal than us, and that won’t be something I stand for, either.
He’s walked into our territory and frowned upon everything we’ve said and done, like his way is the only way.
It’s as if he thinks that if he doesn’t approve, then the situation is beneath him, and it’s outrageous. It stops today.
“I’m just saying…” he starts again, and I don’t have the self-discipline to control myself.
I quickly pull my knife from my sheath and stab down forcefully, landing the blade deep into the tabletop.
Ashia doesn’t stir, thankfully, but I find myself tightening my grip around her anyway.
I’m assuming I didn’t actually stab him from his lack of reaction, and I’m almost disappointed in myself.
My line of sight remains locked on his, and I don’t dare tear it away.
He’ll see it as submission, and I’ll never give him that satisfaction.
After a few grueling seconds of tension, he averts his gaze downward and towards the table, and I finally glance down as well.
The blade landed in the space between his index and middle fingers, only about half an inch above where they connect.
I look back up at him, and he has the audacity to smirk.
“You do have good aim,” Satori says, sounding impressed.
He shouldn't be.
“What are you talking about? I missed,” I hiss through my teeth, and his face falls. As I jerk my knife back up, he leans back against the chair. So, I do the same, but I’m sure to move smoothly enough to keep my wife asleep.
Satori finally gets the hint and reviews the information in peace, while Kade looks like he wants to scream.
His face is blood red, his eyes are a little too wide to be normal, and his brows are creased in worry.
I’m sure it’s awkward for him to be caught in the middle of whatever silent war Satori and I have going on, but if the dumb mother fucker would just back down, this would go a lot smoother.
A small huff draws my attention again, and I can feel Satori’s agitation.
Clearly, he’s still stuck reading the first paper in the stack, which I purposely placed as his own.
It lists his physical attributes, as well as what his role will be, and his clearances and permissions—which is about the same as every other ground soldier we have and meant to knock him down a few pegs.
“This isn’t much access for someone with my experience,” he says tightly, but quietly, as if his cooperation now will actually get him somewhere. I don't even look up from the paper I'm reading when I reply.
“Fuck your access, and fuck your experience,” I say gravely, because I truly don’t give a shit. I respect what he’s done, and while I understand that he’s fully capable of handling and doing more, it’s more of a trust issue at this point.
He lets out an aggravated growl and shifts like he’s going to get up, but then he flops back down into the chair with a sigh.
“Look, I get it. I’ve been a bit of ass, but how would you feel if the roles were reversed?
You think I like swallowing my pride and asking you for help?
Do you think I enjoy admitting that I failed my men so badly that I have to take orders from another man?
” he says aggressively, loud enough to count as a yell.
His words reach something inside me that understands, and I finally look up at him again, realizing that I should at least hear him out.
His frustrations really hit home, and while it doesn’t make it okay, I suppose I can sympathize with him for a while.
I open my mouth to speak, when Carter steps in through the door next, not even bothering to knock.
While it’s rude as fuck, the serious look on his face means it’s urgent.
“We’ve got eyes on Popov. His face was just clocked at a toll near the capitol. What do you want to do?” His tone is sharp, obviously ready to act.
Normally I would just say fuck it and send out about ten vehicles to run his ass off the road, then shoot him in the head for good measure, but I think about where acting irrationally has gotten us before.
As I look down to my entire world asleep in my arms, I know the decision I need to make.
It’s hard to wait, especially since this is our first real lead in weeks, but I have to swallow my pride and do what’s best for them.
I nod to myself like I’m really nodding to her before I look back up at him.
“Nothing yet. Let’s see where he stops and for how long. I want to make sure we have a clean entry and exit plan before we take him.”
Carter’s eyes widen a little, but right after he glances down at Ashia, he nods once and walks in with his laptop. It’s not often we settle on situations like this, but it’s clear that we both agree on this. He always wants to take a more cautious approach, and it’s about time that I listened.
As much as that pains me to admit.
He quietly sits in the armchair closest to me.
While I didn’t call him in here for this, I’m sure he can sense the tension in the air and wants to witness it.
His fingers move quickly as he types on his computer, probably to notify Alex of my decision, but his eyes dart over to Satori a few times—proving me right.
I look back over to the infuriating man, realizing now more than ever that I need to start playing the smart game, and as unfortunate as it is, that might mean just letting go a little.
“You want to work together? I need to see what you’ve got.
Prove to me that this won’t be an issue and help me end this.
My family needs this put to rest, and I won’t stop until it is,” I say to Satori with a stern tone, so he knows just how serious this is.
He looks back at me with a confused glaze over his eyes, but then I see them harden, like he understands that this is also his one last chance at redemption.
“Consider it finished.” He nods with determination, and for the first time in days, it finally feels like we’re coming back up for air.