Six
Iwas sitting in the lobby the next morning with Kola and Hannah, both of them quiet and entertained for the moment. She was coloring, and he was playing something on his DS.
“Jory?”
I looked up and found Milt standing over me.
“Hey,” I greeted him. “Sorry about last night. It just got weird.”
“You and Sam—that’s kind of volatile, huh?”
Not how he thought. We were only explosive in bed.
I shrugged.
He gestured at Kola and Hannah. “Why are you guys all packed up? Are you leaving?”
“Yeah,” I told him. “We’re going home early. Sam needs it that way.”
“So, he says jump, and you say how high?”
“Not quite.” I chuckled because what would Sam actually pay to make that the case?
“Then why are you going?”
“Because we’re not safe, and Sam needs us to be so he can concentrate on what he needs to.”
“Oh my God, Jory, what—”
“Jory?”
Regina and Thomas were cutting across the lobby toward me, and when they got there, with the others in tow—the whole Kage clan that was mine—I tried to force a smile for Regina.
“Honey, where are you going?”
“Home,” I explained, soothing her at the same time. “But technically, just a day early. We were all leaving very early on Monday morning. You can’t really count that.”
“But you’re missing all the rest of today and tomorrow.”
This was true.
“You guys will still have fun.”
“But why are you leaving?”
“I’ll let Sam tell you.”
“Tell me what?” she asked.
I looked over at her son, saw him standing where he had been for the last twenty minutes, with Duncan, two Scottsdale detectives, three of the guys from the northern district, from his office in Chicago, and two marshals who had driven over from the field office there.
The last person there was Sam’s boss, Clint Farmer, and he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Sam.
The other guy I didn’t know, but he was listening intently, even as he was on his cell at the same time.
It didn’t look good to me; it looked like extended time away from home.
“Jory?”
“Sorry.” I forced a smile. “We just need to go home, Regina. Apparently, we’ll be under police protection, with a patrol car outside, until the man that Sam is looking for is found.”
“Oh my goodness.” She sounded worried and scared. “Sweetheart, we should all go, then. You should move in with us until this whole thing goes away.”
“No, I—”
“And we can help you with the kids.”
“I don’t need help,” I explained. “And home is better for them so they don’t have their routine upset.”
“Jory,” Michael began, “don’t you think it would be better if you—”
“Oh … wow,” Milt breathed out, clearly and utterly floored by whatever he was seeing.
“Uncle Dane!”
I looked over—we all did—and there, crossing the lobby of the hotel, was Dane Harcourt. People stopped and stared. It was a known reaction.
The first thing you noticed about my brother was his towering height.
He was six-five, so you couldn’t miss him.
Next, it was the stare, normally a slight squint, just enough to pinch his brows together and to convey his irritation with the world at large.
The length of his stride and the way he moved commanded interest. There was an energy you could feel, and looking at him was a pleasure.
I was not alone in my assessment that Dane could still, even in his mid-forties, begin a lucrative modeling career.
Yes, he was a wealthy architect, but he could grace fashion magazines all over the world.
The glossy black hair and charcoal-gray eyes with flecks of silver in them, chiseled features, and swimmer’s build made the man a standout in any room he was ever in.
As he walked across the lobby of the hotel, all eyes were on him.
I had thought, as Dane aged, that his appeal would wane.
But even now, with the white at his temples and the laugh lines in the corners of his eyes much heavier, he was stunning.
Women flirted harder, men were drawn faster, and Dane, being Dane, just scowled.
He was private; he had a small circle of friends and his family, which included me and Sam and our kids, who were precious to him, and that was all.
Dane didn’t invite new friendships. When he had been younger, he’d been more patient, more able to forgive things, but now, with his focus on his wife and children, he didn’t have the time or energy to devote to newness.
You could be an acquaintance of his, but really, he was done making lifelong friends.
“Jory, who’s that?” Milt was breathless.
“My brother,” I said as Hannah wiggled down off the chair and ran, arms flailing like she was running from a fire, to greet her uncle.
He went down on one knee, and everyone saw it then—the smile, so rare, so unguarded, that it took your breath away.
Hannah hit him hard. She was not a gentle flower, my girl, more like a projectile missile, and she wrapped her little arms around his neck.
He hugged her tight, rubbed her back, and then, when she wanted—and only then—did he let her go so they could talk.
Kola was right behind her, but he leaned into Dane’s arm, and they hugged gentler.
When Dane stood, he had a kid in each arm and, seeing me, began walking over.
“Is he gay too?”
“No,” I told the very hopeful man lusting after my brother. “He has a wife and two kids.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“It does for Dane,” I assured him. “The man is madly in love with all of them.”
“Got it,” Milt said as Dane stepped into my personal space.
“Tell me now,” my brother demanded instead of greeting me.
We always talked as though our conversations were on a continual loop.
“I thought Sam was missing, but he’s not,” I said, pointing to where he was standing. “But he wants us to go home, where we’re safe. There was a man in our room last night.”
His grunt was very soft.
“So, we’ll go home with you.”
“Of course you will.”
Like there would have been a choice.
“You know I’m thirty-two, right?”
“Mmhmm.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Where are your things?”
I tipped my head at the pile of bags in pink, lime green, and black. There were blankets and toys and a little pink ribbon-yarn poncho.
“Call Sam over. We’re leaving.”
“Kola, go get Daddy,” I directed my son.
He ran over, stood beside Sam, put his hand in his, and waited until Sam acknowledged him. When Sam looked up and saw Dane, he excused himself and walked back toward us, hand in hand with his son.
Regina was upset, and so was Thomas. Sam’s sisters and Michael were all, I could tell, a little annoyed with me.
They were talking over each other to assure me that the kids and I could stay.
But the thing was, as soon as I thought Sam was in trouble, I had called Dane to come pick up my children so I’d know they were safe while I looked for him.
It had been ingrained in me to go to my brother.
After Sam, it was Dane. And everyone wanted to know why I didn’t have any faith in them.
Why did I need Dane when Sam’s whole family was there? Didn’t I trust them?
It was hard to explain. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them, and it wasn’t that I didn’t think they cared as much about my kids as any of the others, but these were my kids, and my brother and his wife were who they were going to if anything ever happened to me and Sam.
And now, because Sam couldn’t be there, he wanted Dane to take us home and help watch over us.
It was how we were—we both believed in my brother.
Into the many raised voices stepped Sam, who only got loud because he had never been one to have a discussion when someone questioned a decision he had made. He wanted me and the kids to go home with Dane. His parents, his sisters, and his brother were questioning if that was best.
Sam’s temper could easily get the better of him since he was on edge to begin with.
He didn’t want to deal with questions; he had to find a witness, and that witness was either trying to kill Sam himself or the man who had hidden the witness was trying to kill Sam to keep him from said witness.
Either way, it was out in the open now, and there were several agencies ready to work together to figure out what the hell was going on.
Sam wanted to be doing that, wanted to be concentrating on that.
He needed me and the kids gone so he could focus all his energy there and be in hunter and not protector mode.
His family was only pissing him off.
I saw his jaw clench and would have said something, but at that point, Dane quietly lifted his hands to get everyone’s attention. I usually had to jump up and down or stand on my head to get the silence that was his in only moments.
It was one of Dane’s many strengths—the ability to spread calm, to be a rock in any kind of crisis.
He explained gently, calmly, employing the voice he used in contract disputes with builders, how Sam was concerned for everyone’s safety.
He told them that Sam was worried about putting any more of his family in danger, and that this way, everyone else could stay and enjoy the rest of the reunion and maybe have some semblance of normalcy.
They all looked at Sam, who was glowering at that point.
“Get them out of here, Dane.”
And Dane passed Hannah to her father so the goodbyes could commence.
Hannah cried because she wasn’t at home. In her own house, Hannah said goodbye to her daddy every morning. The idea of getting on a plane without him was not appealing, and she clung and howled, which I could tell, just from looking at him, tore Sam up.
I took her, and she sobbed into my shoulder, her being overly tired not helping one little bit.
Sam went down on one knee, and Kola stepped close and fiddled with Sam’s collar and the buttons on his dress shirt.
“Do you have your gun, Dad?”
Dad was newly shortened from Daddy when he was being serious.
“Yes, I do.”
“So, you’ll be safe, huh?”
“Yes, I will. You need to take care of Hannah and Pa and Chilly for me, okay?”