Chapter Nine #2
The security office was located in the renovated wing of the main house, accessible through a side entrance that kept business separate from family life. As Decker approached the door, he could hear the voices of his new teammates discussing the day ahead.
He drew in a deep breath. His first official morning meeting as a member of Black Heart Security.
The weight of that reality settled over him. He was no longer Dutch, the SEAL who went in alone. He was no longer the broken veteran who couldn’t string two words together. He was part of a team that had chosen him, not despite his scars but because of how he’d learned to carry them.
As he stepped into the office, ready to begin this new chapter, he caught Willow’s scent clinging to his coat like she was with him every step.
The Malone brothers greeted him with nods or grunts. Colt gripped the back of the chair beside him and dragged it out in an invitation to sit.
Decker glanced around the table. Every brother was injured but Denver.
“Looks like you all had an adventure after I got the ladies out of the Rusty Spur.”
Colt turned his head, showing off the brand-new row of neat stitches above his brow. “You got off easy, man.”
His lips twitched. “Looks like Denver got off easy too.”
Denver waved a hand in front of his face. “Can’t have two black eyes and a busted lip in my wedding photos.”
Decker listened to a recounting of the fight that turned into a brawl, but his stare locked on the whiteboard on the wall. His stomach bottomed out as he skimmed the long list of male names.
Carson noticed the direction of his focus and brought the room to order with the clearing of his throat.
“What am I looking at?” Decker already knew.
“It’s a list of guys Willow has dated or ever took interest in her.”
Now he had to face the list of men she’d dated.
“That’s a lot of boyfriends,” he said.
Colt spoke up. “She didn’t sleep with all these guys. We know that.”
Oaks waved at the extensive list. “I think we nipped all these in the bud pretty quick. I don’t think she slept with any of them.”
Some of the tightness in Decker’s chest eased, but his muscles were still tense.
Carson grabbed a marker and strolled over to the board. “I think we can cross off these two.” He drew a line through two names. “They were at the bar last night. Denver drilled them outside the restroom.”
Denver sat back, arms folded, wearing a smug expression.
Gray nodded toward the board. “Cross off the fourth guy on the list. He’s married.”
Decker swung his head to look at Gray. “Does that matter? He could lie.”
“Happily married,” he added.
“I ran background checks, and several are on the other side of the country. You can cross these off,” Denver said, grabbing the marker.
Oaks narrowed his eyes. “McCain is in prison.”
Every pair of eyes snapped to him. “You sure about that?” Carson asked.
“I’m sure.”
Colt groaned. “Good thing we chased that bastard off…what? A week into their relationship?”
“Six days,” Carson corrected him.
They continued down the list, one by one.
“Who is left on that list who could be sending her the gifts?” Decker asked.
Silence throbbed in the room. Finally, Theo said, “Was there anybody else at the bar who was involved? What about that guy who tried grabbing her on the dance floor?”
Oaks tilted his jaw up. “Let’s say I enticed him to talk. Learned that he spends every dollar he has on booze and gambling. According to his buddy with him, he doesn’t have two nickels to rub together. I doubt he’s our suspect.”
“There’s only one way to root this guy out.” Decker’s announcement was met with questioning looks. “We have to wait for him to make the next move. We hit all the bars in Willowbrook. Outside of town too.”
“Not tonight,” Carson interrupted. “It’s Denver’s bachelor party at the Rusty Spur.”
Decker chuckled. “Tonight? Are you sure you’ll be allowed back in?”
Colt coughed as if covering a laugh. “We have an arrangement with the owners. We give them a lot of money for cleanup if things get out of hand.”
A rough laugh burst from Decker. “This happens a lot?”
Grins split across every face at the table. “You have no idea how many times we have to put someone in their place, especially when Willow’s involved,” Oaks said.
They shared stories then, each brother contributing tales of bar fights and protective interventions that painted a picture of a family that looked out for their own.
Denver told him about the time three guys had cornered Willow at a county fair, and how all six brothers had materialized out of nowhere like guardian angels with serious attitude problems.
Colt described the infamous incident where someone had grabbed Willow’s ass at a wedding reception, resulting in what the local paper had diplomatically called “a minor scuffle.”
“Minor scuffle.” Theo snorted. “Guy ended up in the hospital.”
“He was fine,” Carson said mildly. “Eventually.”
The easy banter, the way they included him in their stories as if he’d always been part of this brotherhood—it hit Decker harder than he’d expected.
He’d spent so many years as a lone wolf, going Dutch on every decision, every failure.
But sitting here, listening to these men talk about protecting what mattered most, he felt something he hadn’t experienced since his SEAL team—belonging.
Carson capped the marker and set it aside. “Tonight we celebrate Denver’s last night of freedom, keep our eyes open for any oddballs who might know our sister and try not to destroy the bar.”
“Try being the operative word,” Gray added with a grin.
“And Decker?” Carson’s voice carried a note of warmth that made something tight in Decker’s chest finally relax. “Welcome to the family. Both professionally and personally.”
The weight of acceptance, of finally having a place where he belonged, settled over Decker like the best kind of armor. For the first time in years, the future didn’t feel like something to survive but to build.
Something worth protecting.
As the meeting broke up and the brothers filed out, chatting about bachelor party plans, a sudden realization hit him like a freight train.
They all knew he’d slept with their sister.
Of course they knew she wasn’t in the house last night. Nothing escaped the Malones’ radar.
But nobody was sharpening knives or loading shotguns or giving him the kind of look that suggested he might not survive the night.
He smiled to himself. Maybe this family thing was going to work out after all.