26. Fight Naked
26
Fight Naked
OLIVER
“Let me get this fucking straight,” Leighton said, about an hour later. Her tone was deceptively calm—terrifyingly so. But her eyes gave it away, flashing with uncontained rage. “ You ”—she jabbed a finger at my brother, where he sat braced behind his desk—“fund and oversee a covert, illegal mercenary ring with a name that sounds like some dumbass teenage boy’s street hockey team.”
“ Thunderstrike ,” Greyson muttered against his clasped fists, elbows braced on the desk’s polished wood.
“Essentially, you’re the dollar store equivalent of Bruce fucking Wayne—only with a whole motherfucking team. And you’re fighting some equally bullshit covert group of psychopaths who use their secret powers for evil instead of good.”
“ Obsidian ,” he added, not catching the fucking hint.
Leighton’s fists clenched at her sides. Her knuckles blanched white as her body started to shake.
“And you ,” she snapped, eyes cutting toward her sister, nostrils flaring, “fucking lied to me. For months , sissy.” Her furious blue-grays hesitated on Alice’s bowed head, then lifted to mine.
I hadn’t moved. Just stood there, statue-still, one arm folded under the other, propping up my chin with a clenched fist like it was the only thing holding me together.
“You too ,” she breathed. “You’ve all been fucking lying to me.”
“Trouble, I?—”
“Save it.” She sliced me off without looking, then turned her fury back to Alice. “It was me in that car with you. Me that almost died. Me that scrambled through that goddamn SUV as it fucking sank in that frozen fucking water to save that idiot—” she flung an arm toward Captain Reynolds, who smirked incrementally from where he leaned against the study door.
“Thanks for that,” he muttered.
“You’re fucking welcome. You’d be even more welcome if any of you had been honest with me. Like I couldn’t handle it or something? You three paint a target on our entire family and think I’m better off in the goddamn dark?!”
“Leighton,” Greyson started.
She slammed her hands on his desk. The sound cracked through the room, sharp and final. Death burned in her eyes as they locked on his face.
“You, of all people, Greyson Hart, disappoint me the most. You’re the one who kept me in the dark, are you not?”
“It’s classified.”
“Bullshit,” she snarled. “ You classified it. You should’ve unclassified it when I hauled Tillie out of that fucking car and to shore. You should’ve unclassified it when the twelve of us were huddled in that goddamn waiting room, not knowing if Alice would come back through those double doors.”
My throat tightened. My eyes flicked to Alice as she wet her lips. She had almost died—because she refused to let them treat her until she was sure Jackson, Tillie, and Leighton were safe.
Greyson had almost lost the only person who’d ever cracked him open.
He sucked in a long breath, shoulders back as he leaned into the chair and laced his fingers over his stomach. Calm, precise—until you noticed the twitch in his jaw. Then he stared straight into the eyes of the very pregnant, very pissed-off woman across from him.
“You’re right.”
Two words. That’s all it took. Her spine straightened. Hands dropped to her sides. Her mouth parted, stunned.
“What?” she whispered.
Greyson gave a humorless huff. “You’re right, Leighton.”
“Somebody better have that on fucking record,” she muttered.
“Please. Sit down.” He gestured to the chair in front of the desk, then to the sofa beside me.
“Can’t. Need to break something.”
“I’ll let you destroy the office afterward if it helps. Just let me get this out.”
“Fine.”
“I should’ve told you.”
“Damn straight. All of you are fucking assholes.”
“That’s a valid emotion to be feeling,” he said evenly.
“Please. You don’t fucking feel anything, you fucking cyborg .” Her words hit hard—harder than she realized. Greyson’s brow pinched, just slightly. His jaw flexed.
He looked like he did the night I got high and drove home in his truck—seconds from losing control.
“Trouble,” I warned softly, but she shot me a look so sharp I nearly swallowed my tongue.
“Don’t you fucking ‘trouble’ me, Oliver. Or should I say Mr. Hart? ”
“Leighton,” I said, my tone dipping into a quiet plea.
“ Well ?” Her voice broke like a whip. “Do I even know you? How could you keep something like this from me, Ollie? I thought we were a team. All that bullshit about doing this together , and the entire time you’ve been lying to me? About what happened on that bridge? About the fact that we were safe with security hovering? Meanwhile, I’ve been walking around oblivious—letting the kids run off to fountains and playgrounds, free like normal children, with no idea there were fucking targets on their backs?” She scoffed, half bitter laugh, half growl. “Like I wouldn’t handle it?”
She tilted her head in that lethal way—a cat about to pounce.
“For fuck’s sake, I would’ve reported that guy at the park months ago if I’d known there was a bounty out for our entire family. All thanks to knockoff Iron Man and his broken fucking parts over here.” She waved a hand at Greyson without looking at him. “And I’m the idiot for not asking more questions about the armed fucking guards posted outside your house. I thought that was just some entitled billionaire shit.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“If you could lie about something this crucial, how the hell am I supposed to trust anything you’ve said in the last ten fucking months?”
“Baby, just let me explain?—”
She didn’t walk away, didn’t scream—just stood there, trembling, one hand pressing protectively to her belly. Feeling our son move, maybe. Grounding herself. It scared the shit out of me more than if she’d screamed. Leighton only went quiet when she was done. Or when I was dead to her.
“He wanted to tell you,” Greyson said, gaze steady on the woman he had clearly labeled the biggest threat in the room. “I didn’t let him.”
“ Let him? ” Her voice went flat. “Is there something you should tell me? Got his balls in a duffel bag, Greyson? Last time I checked, Ollie’s a grown-ass man who can speak for himself.”
“You’re right,” I said quietly, shaking my head. Every muscle in my body screamed to go to her, to close the fucking distance. “Leigh, baby, I should’ve told you. I chose you months ago, and somewhere along the way, I should’ve trusted you with this.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“For me,” Greyson said. “I put Ollie in a terrible position. His loyalty should never have been tested between his wife and his brother.”
“I’m not his fucking wife.”
“But you will be,” he said like it was already carved in stone. “Won’t you?”
What the fuck was he doing? Trying to scare her?
But Leighton wasn’t scared. She was furious . Beautiful in her righteous anger.
“That’s none of your business,” she said, cold and clipped. The same tone that my brother used to clear a boardroom in thirty seconds.
“Listen to me,” Greyson said, more urgently now. “I thought you were safer?—”
“Oh, go fuck yourself.”
“ I thought you were safer not knowing. I thought you’d go digging and get yourself in deeper.”
“Is that what you did?” Her attention snapped to Alice.
“This information is dangerous,” Alice said, voice low. “Knowing puts you at risk. And if anything fell through before the op was legitimized, you could’ve been forced to testify. Against Greyson. Against me .”
Leighton blinked. “That’s why you married him,” she said, voice hollow. “Last summer. That’s why you married him when you hated his fucking guts—no offense.”
“None taken. I earned it,” Greyson said evenly.
“Yes,” Alice said quickly, like she wanted the blame redirected onto herself. “Yes, sissy. I found out when I was digging for proof he’d been embezzling.”
“And you married him for spousal immunity,” she said flatly.
“So I wouldn’t have to testify against him. Or take Ollie—and the kids—down with the ship.”
Leighton turned her scowl on Greyson. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I love her,” Greyson said, and for once, the words weren’t sterile. “I’ve been in love with your sister—her infuriating mouth, her spine of steel—from the moment she stepped into my office.”
“Please,” Leighton muttered. “You were a total prick for years.”
“To push her away,” he growled. “To keep her out of reach. Safe. From HR violations and my extracurriculars.”
“Yeah. That worked great , didn’t it?”
“Leighton,” Alice said gently. “What he’s doing—it’s good work. They’re saving lives.”
“It’s not the mission I’m pissed about.”
“It’s that we kept it from you,” I said.
Her eyes found mine, glassy and betrayed, chin trembling like she was holding herself together by will alone.
She sucked in a shaky breath, then looked back at Greyson. “Are the kids safe?”
“I’ve done everything I can to keep them out of it.”
“Like you kept Alice out of it?”
“I’m trying. But bringing you in? That should’ve happened the moment you were in their lives daily. That’s on me.” Greyson sat forward, voice lower now. “The information we started with was classified. Just me and the team. But the op’s grown. So have the risks. And you’re right—you deserved to know. Ollie worked with the information I gave him. I’ve kept him at a wide berth, too.”
“So what now?” she asked, shaking her head. “What about this car? The one in the photos. With our kids ?”
“Jax submitted the images for processing. We’ll find them.”
Leighton exhaled hard and cleared her throat, palming the scar beneath her tee. “Then do it fucking fast, or I swear to God, I’ll feed you your testicles on a spoon.”
“Valid stipulation,” Greyson said without blinking.
“And I’m stealing Captain Reynolds.”
“Pardon?” Jax asked from the door.
“You’re the best, right?” she snapped. “That’s why you and Viper are here.”
“He is,” Greyson confirmed.
“Then he better be within arm’s reach of Tillie and Beau every waking fucking second until this is under control.”
Greyson’s gaze flicked to Alice. She nodded. Then he turned to Jax, who dipped his chin.
Leighton tracked the entire exchange with a predator’s focus.
“Good. We have an understanding. I’m going to tuck the kids in and make sure they’re safe. And if I see one more black fucking sedan on this goddamn street, I will not be held liable for my actions.”
And with that, she glared the mountain of a man away from the door and marched through it like she was going to war.
“Well,” Jax sighed, flicking his eyes toward Greyson, who was rubbing at his temples like he could massage the migraine out of existence. “That went well.”
“You’re lucky she didn’t clock you,” I muttered, dragging in a breath as I gathered the courage to follow her.
“I said every waking moment ,” she barked from the hallway. “That means now , Reynolds. Ollie, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
“You weren’t kidding,” Jax grumbled, amusement glinting in his eyes as he glanced sidelong at my brother. “She’s feral.”
“And all fucking mine,” I said with a terrified, relieved chuckle, before following the warpath she left behind.
Leighton
It took every ounce of my composure to hold it together long enough for our nightly routine. Teeth brushed, hair combed, stories read, songs sung—all while I bit back tears at the unfathomable truth: they’d been in danger this whole time, and no one had bothered to tell me.
I grew up in Alaska, for fuck’s sake. I had five older brothers and more cousins than I could count—one of whom was the town sheriff—all of whom made damn sure I could load and fire a .45 with bear-dropping accuracy. Everyone in Mistyvale was versed in firearms and bear spray. Hiking without them was a suicide mission. I had a mean swing with a metal bat and nothing— nothing —on this earth would stop me from protecting these precious little people.
Precious little people who’d healed my entire soul when they asked me to be their Mommy.
Mine .
That’s all I could think as I brushed Beau’s curls off his forehead while his eyes drifted closed. They were mine. And someone had gotten close enough to study them—photograph them. Talk to Beau.
That knowledge made my bones rattle and my brain buzz inside my skull, even as his breathing evened into sleep.
By the time I slipped out, Ollie was waiting in the hallway, still in his work clothes. His tie hung loose, hair disheveled in the way only the worst days left it. I marched past without a word, into our bedroom, sensing him trailing close behind. The latch clicked closed. I yanked my shirt over my head and launched it at him, whirling around with a scowl carved into my face.
“So. Turns out you and I have very different definitions of what being on a team means, Oliver Hart.”
“Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“You should be.” I unclasped my bra in one practiced motion, freeing my heavy breasts—and watching his mouth part, and eyes flare.
“Wha—what… what are you doing?”
“Fighting naked. Care to join me?”
“…What?”
“Welp. Mom said when all else fails and I wanna scram like the Kool-Aid man, her best advice is to fight naked.”
“Um.” He swallowed hard, eyes locked on my hands as I slid my leggings over my belly and kicked them aside. After a long pause—probably brought on by tit-induced paralysis—he dropped my shirt, which had to physically hurt him, and stripped.
Goddamn. Mom was onto something.
Hard to stay mad when you’re both standing bare, stripped to your full, vulnerable selves.
In nothing but our underwear, chest to chest, my hands found his back on instinct. Lifting my chin, my voice came out soft, like melted butter. “You should’ve told me.”
“I know,” he breathed, cupping my face with those big palms, close enough to taste my air but not quite kiss me. “And I’m so sorry. Greyson said it was classified and he could face serious consequences just for telling me.”
“About Thunderstrike ?”
“About why Thunderstrike exists.”
“Hmm.” So it started when he was still in the Navy. What the fuck had our big grump gotten himself into?
When I didn’t say anything, Ollie hesitated. “ Hmm? ”
“What do you want me to say to that?”
His hands slid from my neck to my shoulders, down my arms. “I guess I expected you to rail a little, I don’t know.”
I turned to look out at the starry sky for a beat, then brought my gaze back to him. “It was an impossible scenario.”
“What?” he asked, disbelieving.
“You honor me and betray him. Or you protect him and lie to me.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re not the most important part of my fucking life, it’s just?—”
“Ollie,” I breathed, the chaos in my head finally quieting. “I have eleven siblings. I get it.”
“Really?” he chuckled, warm breath brushing my cheek.
“I still say you guys should’ve looped me in. I still say you should’ve told me. But I was thinking about it—about James or Pax or Axel. And yeah, trouble. I get it.”
He cracked a crooked smile—the kind that made my knees feel weak. “Oh, now I’m trouble?”
“Obviously.”
“Please forgive me, baby. I’m so fucking glad you know now. I hated keeping it from you.”
“I believe you,” I said softly, soaking in the warmth of his eyes.
“But do you forgive me?”
“Got any more skeletons in your closet I should know about?”
“No, baby.”
“Then yes,” I said, curt and sure. “I forgive you, Ollie.”
“Thank fuck,” he panted, diving into my hair to kiss me breathless. When he finally came up for air, he vowed, “We’ll keep them safe. You and the kids. That’s all that matters.”
“We don’t have another choice,” I whispered, rising on my toes as his hands curved protectively over my belly. I stole another kiss, tugging gently on his lower lip.
Ollie made a low, contented rumble in his chest, then pulled back just enough to rest his forehead to mine.
“Gotta say—I like this fighting naked theory.”