Chapter Fifty-Eight
White Ravens
Scar
The Browns’ quarters looked like the aftermath of a Thanksgiving holiday party.
They’d consumed the kind of meal that required several eight-hour gym sessions to recover from.
Most of them had collapsed onto the couches and chairs, watching an action movie blasting on the oversized screen and critiquing every explosion, gun fight, and sparring match.
“No recoil,” Scar snorted. “And how the fuck did he just fire thirty rounds without reloading?”
Zorion tossed some popcorn at the screen. “That’s not how flashbangs work, dumbasses.”
Scar had one arm hooked lazily around Gage, who was folded into his side, warm and heavy. He’d eaten as if he’d been starving for a year. Now he was half asleep with his cheek resting against his chest.
Scar brushed his knuckles languidly along his arm while he continued yelling at the screen.
Mirage and Ex were in the kitchen, clanking dishes, the only task Grace allowed anyone to do, while he sat at the island in the center, with a beer in his hand, directing where everything went.
Ex came back into the living room, drying his hands on a towel. “You ready to go?”
Meridian nodded and stood, before he got to the door his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket.
He pulled it free and read the screen before a serious expression blanketed his face.
He didn’t speak, didn’t blink, as a slow, lethal stillness replaced the casualness that’d been there a second ago.
Meridian looked at Ex in a way that quieted the room.
Scar assumed it was Jo, alerting him of some world catastrophe that required raised hoods and their field teams.
Ex sighed a long exhale. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
Scar stood. “It’s who?”
Ex didn’t look away. “A certain task force lieutenant in Atlanta that Meridian has a crush on.”
That got everyone’s attention.
Scar blinked.
Gage sat up.
Mirage came around the corner, and Zorion froze with his beer against his lips.
Meridian cut his partner a glare sharp enough to skin him alive.
“I don’t have a motherfuckin’ crush on him.” Meridian turned and faced them. “But I do respect him.”
“What’s he need?” Ex asked.
Meridian answered simply, “Us.”
The room morphed from lounging to launch with a single word.
“Corvo,” Meridian said, already moving, “I need only the essentials. Get my flight crew ready. I want wheels up in an hour.”
Scar took Gage’s hand.
“Whoa, man. Talk to us, what’s up?” Valor asked, voicing the confusion circling the room.
Meridian paused near the doorway. His voice was low and honest, the one he used when he was shifting into assassin-mode.
“I’ve only met one other man in my life who leads a team almost as formidable as mine.” His dark gaze swept each of them. “If he’s asking for my help, then it’s dire, and I’m going.”
“Not without us,” Scar gritted.
Meridian didn’t argue.
Scar squeezed Gage’s arm. “Call Roz and tell him to put his dick away, we’re mobilizing.”
Gage nodded.
Valor and Zorion were already out the door.
Mirage muttered something about interrupting his digestion process while Grace began yanking their duffels from a closet.
“Flight crew needs coordinates,” Corvo called out.
Meridian stared at his phone for a long moment, a deep frown creasing his brow.
He muttered low, almost to himself.
“God…what the fuck are you doing in Hollywood?”
The End
This is the end of the Ravens series.
I hope you felt every victory, loss, moment of peace, love, and loyalty as deeply as I did while writing these exceptional men.
But don’t worry.
This isn’t goodbye, only see you later.
God just sent up a flare high enough for Meridian to see.
And now that he’s chosen to answer the call…he’s not coming alone.