48. Hayden
48
HAYDEN
H ours later, after being interviewed by the police, having our weapons confiscated for ballistics, and getting Foster checked out at the hospital, we were back at the Nashville house. Not my first choice, but everyone was certain of its safety since the assholes had taken Jackson and Katie.
Seeing that van speed off would haunt me for the rest of my days as had the order to stand down. It pissed me off more than I could say that we didn’t pursue them. I knew the arguments like the back of my hand. Hell, they were the same as some of the ones I heard as a Marine in similar situations. I even agreed with them, for the most part.
But I still fucking hated being told to sit on my ass and fucking wait when Katie and Jackson were going through a hell I couldn’t bring myself to imagine.
I wandered through the once jovial house, filled with laughter, familial love, jokes, and a camaraderie I’d not had since being discharged from the Marines. In the kitchen, I stood, arms crossed, feet shoulder width apart, staring out at the still room that had bustled only this morning.
“Hayden?”
I turned at the sound of my name. Heidi and Celeste stood side by side. The twins, who, like Asher and Bauer, looked nothing alike, now resembled each other more than they ever had. Their faces were puffy, scrubbed free of the smeared makeup from the crying that had rimmed their eyes red.
“Yeah.”
“Foster wants to talk with you and Declan. Do you know where he is?”
I nodded. “He’s with Marcie.”
They sighed. Marcie was nearly catatonic. The sight of the flipped SUV had tipped her fearful tears into panic, but when she comprehended the reality we all faced, she spiraled into full-blown hysterics.
When the paramedics checked her and Foster out at the scene and took them both in, Declan and the others sent me with them. Foster had a broken collarbone. And Marcie, while calmer by the time we got to the hospital, dropped into a completely unresponsive state. She seemed to be aware of what was going on, and the doctor didn’t seem worried, but Declan and I were.
“I’ll go talk to him, then send Declan.”
They nodded, gripping my arms as I walked past them. When we returned from the hospital, Foster retreated to the study, and no one had seen him since. The door was open, but his head rested on the couch back, one arm in a sling, with his feet on the ottoman and ankles crossed.
“Hey, Foster. How are you feeling?”
He raised his head, scrubbing his hand over his face like all the Holts I knew did. Sometimes they did it out of frustration, and at other times out of anger or exasperation.
“Like I got rolled. I’m too fucking old for that shit.”
I laughed, saying, “I’m not sure it has anything to do with age, man. Being tossed around in a rolling SUV would fuck us all up.”
“Am I fucking dying?”
I looked at him like he’d lost his damn mind and he said, “I’ve never known you not to rag on me about my age.”
I shrugged. “Considering I left you alone with two protectees, and you’re lying there busted up while Kit Kat and Jackson are…”
“Stop right there. You’re not to blame. The only thing that would change had you been in the SUV with us would be you laid up, too. Oh, and leaving the rest of us to deal with Declan being a total mess. We’ve gone through that once. That was enough, thanks.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you toppled out of that chopper, they called him. He was struggling already with the break-up…”
“Yet another…”
“Also, not all on your shoulders. Declan screwed the pooch with how he handled bringing you into the fold. Being a Holt, being married to a Holt, it’s not for the faint of heart. I get what he was trying to do, especially after we all learned about Mara and her antics, but he needed to be honest with you once you guys decided to turn the drunken wedding into an actual marriage.”
I swallowed. None of the family had spoken to me about what went down and how they felt about what happened three years ago. Well, other than them working to get Declan and me back together.
“I didn’t handle that shit well either.”
“No, you didn’t, but a man tossed over by someone who is supposed to love him due to his heritage, skin color, lack of money, and social standing should be allowed some grace when confronted by the racist bitch in his husband’s home, especially when she knows he married into wealth and he doesn’t.”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
“That’s not to say I didn’t wanna kick your fucking ass after it happened. You’ll find we Holts are a protective bunch.”
“Then why are we sitting here?”
“Because chasing after that van would have put Katie and Jackson in an extreme amount of danger. They’d already proven they had no qualms shooting Jackson and that bitch is vindictive enough to kill Katie despite what Caleb wants. Plus, the plan has always been if they got taken to go in dark and pull them out while capturing the enemy.”
“And why haven’t we done that?”
“The trackers are dead, and we can’t find the van. Cato’s got imaging software running, but they ambushed us in the perfect spot. There wasn’t a fucking camera for miles.”
“Whose stupid idea was it to rely on trackers?”
“Mine, Walker’s, and the admiral’s.”
“It was a shitty idea.”
Foster burst out laughing. “Believe me. As SEALs and a Marine Raider, not to mention a grandfather, father, and uncle, we’re very aware our plan sucked, but it was all we had. And our wives all agree with you. If anyone ever thinks the Holts are scary, they should meet the people willing to take our asses on. The spouses are even scarier because they saddle this horse to ride.”
I chuckled, but sobered, thinking of Marcie.
“She’ll get there. She’s just scared.”
I nodded, checked we were alone. Deciding not to chance being overheard, I shut the door and sat in the armchair across from him. After chewing my lip raw, I asked a question of him that I didn’t have the guts to bring up with Declan. At least not yet.
“How’s the trust work?”
“Why? Lemme rephrase that. Were you wondering about her or any future kids? Because you’re legally married to Declan, you’re automatically in. Lucas has accounts set up for you already, and frankly has acted like the biggest fucking brat there is about not being able to go over shit with you.”
I wasn’t ready to touch that with a ten-foot pole. “Marcie and any possible kids.”
Foster smirked. “Lucas will be relieved that you’re not chomping at the bit to get at the cash.”
“But you just said…”
“Uncle Lucas is weird. What can I say? He wants to add you but doesn’t want you to want it. If you want it, it’s a red flag that you’re after the money and don’t give a damn about the man you married to get to it.”
“That’s…”
“Fucked up? Yeah. As for any kids that either of you may father, they automatically go onto the trust, and before you ask, yes, even yours. You’re a Holt whether you have the last name or not.”
My elbows hit my knees, and I sighed. My hand rubbed the back of my neck.
“You okay?”
My head swung from side to side, then bobbed up and down. He fucking laughed. I took another deep breath, then looked at him. “And Marcie?”
“I’m not sure, but if you want to know all the ins and outs, call Lucas. I’ll send you his contact info. If you’re not ready to deal with it, have Declan do it.”
I stared at him, and he pulled out his phone with a grunt. He tapped the screen for several minutes. When the phone buzzed, Foster barked with laughter before saying, “Lucas said it’s possible, but he won’t say how until you agree to talk to him.”
“That’s all I need to know.”
“I figured.”
We sat quietly for a bit before I realized I hadn’t asked what he wanted to see us for. “I kinda took over the conversation. What did you need to see Declan and me for?”
“Where is he?”
“With Marcie.”
“I didn’t need anything. I just wanted to check on all of you. You especially.”
My brow pinched, and he continued, “None of us blame you or want you blaming yourself. That was all I wanted.”
“Respectfully…”
“Anytime someone starts a sentence with respectfully it’s usually not.”
“I’m not winning this conversation, am I?”
“Nope. Now, go spend some time cuddled around your girl. And send your boy up here to talk to me.”
I ducked my chin and left the room. Fucking Holts and their ability to make me fucking blush.
I made my way to the bedroom that Declan, Marcie, and I shared. The sight that greeted me when I paused in the doorway warmed my heart. Declan and Marcie cuddled together in our bed called to me like nothing ever had. It also had my cock stiffening in my pants.
The horny bastard.
Declan’s eyes must’ve felt me watching them because they popped open, and he smiled. That beautiful wide dimpled grin that made me toss every rule I had out the damn window and then grabbed hold of my fucking heart and soul and never let go.
“Sweetness,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead, “Papi’s here.”
She rolled away from him enough to look over at me, reaching her hand out to me.
“Papi, come cuddle us,” Marcie said, then Declan added, “We need you.”
An offer no man could ignore.