Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
GRACE
Late afternoon sunlight slanted through the blinds, painting stripes across the kitchen floor.
I leaned against the counter, squeezing a lemon slice into a glass of iced tea.
The warmth of the house seeped into my bones.
The night—and day—had left us all ragged, but content in ways I hadn’t thought possible.
Legend was in his element. Two massive pans of lasagna were bubbling in the oven, garlic bread lined up on a sheet tray, and a salad sat waiting on the counter.
The smell of rich, meaty sauce curled through the house, wrapping us in comfort and hunger.
He glanced my way, a crooked smile playing on his lips.
“Nibble on this while I finish the last of the salad?” he said, waving a forkful of crisp lettuce in my direction.
I grinned. “You know me too well.”
Voodoo was on a phone in the corner, low tones flowing, fingers tapping on the counter for rhythm.
AB had his laptop open, a labyrinth of tabs and documents spread across the screen, eyes scanning faster than I could follow.
Bones sat at the table, quietly carving up notes from our last interrogations, occasionally grunting when he found a connection.
It was domestic, somehow. And yet the undercurrent of danger never left.
“We’re not just playing house,” I murmured, taking a bite of the salad. Crisp, tangy, and perfect.
“No,” AB said, not looking up. “We’re putting together profiles. La Madrina, Castillo. Names, patterns, connections. It’s not cute, but it’s necessary.”
Voodoo lowered the phone, rubbing at his eyes. “I got the latest contacts lined up. We’ll cross-check with the names we pulled from Ignacio and Sinclair. Start filling in gaps.”
Bones looked up from his notes, reading out the fragmented recollections,
“Phillip Rojas—de Roja—red. He added red hat or red fish.Then another was a Felipe or Phillip with a very strong British accent. Spanish last name, British accent.”
He snorted. “He said there was a Xander something, German or South African, so that gives me Dutch. Also it would match Zander Visser.”
He flipped to another page.“Next two were… garbled,” Bones admitted. “But a starting point.”
“Mykel, Michael, Mikael. Then Jochem, Jorchan, or Jon though he said it might be Russian but definitely Eastern European.”
“Those aren’t the same thing,” I said as I took a sip of the tea. I had no idea when Legend decided to make it up, but everyone was having some. Despite the chill outside, it seemed perfect to go with the lasagna.
With a hint of a smile, Bones glanced at me. “No, they aren’t. But this is where we are.”
AB’s brow furrowed. “The Michael one… that has to be Maikel Castillo. Castillo Cartel. Skin trade. That’s one branch of their operations. Nothing good there.” He paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “We’ll need to cross-match with existing intelligence and see who’s clean—or not.”
I chewed on my lip. The names, the accents, the half-remembered details… it was like piecing together a map of snakes that coiled and wound in and around each other. Every thread pulled revealed another lurking danger.
“Legend,” I said, trying to lighten the moment, “when are you going to let me sneak a piece of that garlic bread before it disappears?”
He glanced up, mock indignation in his eyes. “The salad is your warm-up. You get the real prize when it comes out of the oven. But I’ll save you a slice… if you promise not to collapse over it.”
Voodoo snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Our girl hasn’t collapsed yet. Not emotionally, physically… and morally. A slice of lasagna won’t tip her over the edge.”
“I’m holding out for a second slice,” I said. Goblin brushed against my leg as if he agreed, tail wagging.
The room was alive with small domestic battles and the murmur of serious work. Somehow, in the middle of scheming, research, and lasagna, it felt… like home. Safe.
The safe house felt safe. I shook my head. That was what it was supposed to feel like and yet, I almost wished we were back at Base. That all of this was solved and Am was home and…
Some of my good mood ebbed.
I didn’t realize Bones had been watching me until he pushed back from the table. “Don’t do that,” he said quietly.
“Do what?” I tried for light, but my voice didn’t quite make it.
AB didn’t even look up from his computer. “She’s spiraling. She’s thinking about her sister.”
Voodoo slid his phone into his back pocket. “And—Base,” he added, head canted as he studied me. “Probably imagining every worst-case scenario all in a row. Firecracker, don’t make us pry you out of your own head.”
Legend’s spoon froze mid-toss in the salad bowl. “We’re okay,” he said softly. “You’re okay. We’re going to get her back.” His tone was light, but the promise underneath was steel.
I swallowed, staring into my tea like the lemon slice could give me the answers. “I know. I just… I want her safe. I want all of this over. I want to stop finding new snakes under every rock.”
Bones crossed the room in three deliberate steps. His fingers brushed under my chin, tilting my face up until my eyes met his. “We’ll handle the snakes,” he said. “You just keep breathing.”
My throat tightened. Not painfully. Just… truthfully. “And looking pretty?” I went for light, but the words still came out a little thick.
“You don’t have to try to do that,” Bones told me. “You just are. But if you need to scream, to cry, to throw things—aim at Voodoo, I’m still healing.”
Laughter broke through me and I cracked up. I wasn’t alone as chuckles erupted from the guys. Voodoo even winked at me when I glanced at him.
Legend clapped the salad bowl down with theatrical flourish. “Speaking of snakes, one of these names Sinclair gave us? The Eastern European one? Alphabet thinks that one might connect to the Kirov arm of Castillo.”
AB nodded, finally looking up. “Kirov Syndicate does a lot of business with the Castillos—more than I expected based on what I’m seeing here. Logistics, transport, weapons, laundering. If they’ve got a representative in La Madrina’s upper echelon, that’s… concerning.”
“Understatement,” Voodoo muttered.
“How?” I set my glass down. “I don’t know all of these guys, does that mean La Madrina isn’t just a cartel or a trafficking outfit.?”
AB turned the laptop toward me. Several profiles, photos, and redacted reports filled the screen. “They’re a consortium,” he said. “A network. Not one family, not one nationality. They operate like a private equity firm that happens to specialize in every awful thing imaginable.”
“A fucking hydra.” Bones’ jaw flexed. “We cut off one head, others spring up.”
Voodoo waved a hand. “Sure, but we’re not aiming to take down the whole organism.
” He paused a beat then shot me a look. “We’re not going for the whole thing yet.
” That amendment was definitely for me and each time I didn’t think I could love them more, they did things like this.
“For the moment, we’re targeting the nodes most likely connected to Am’s disappearance.
La Madrina is a threat, yeah, but we can’t discount the Castillo Cartel. ”
“Maikel Castillo,” Bones repeated, settling a hand on my lower back and beginning to rub a slow massage to ease the tension making it taut. “I agree with Alphabet’s assessment there. Do we have a full profile on him?”
“We will by the time we finish dinner,” AB said, glancing at me with raised eyebrows as if verifying I was okay with this. I knew, without a doubt, that he would work right through food if I needed it.
“After dinner is fine,” I murmured, leaning into Bones’ caress as he shifted to work both of his thumbs into the knot between my shoulder blades. I wanted to melt.
Legend opened the oven to check the lasagna, and a wave of molten, savory aroma washed over us. Cheese bubbling, sauce simmering, garlic perfuming the whole house. It almost felt indecent compared to what we were discussing.
“Lasagna and organized crime,” Voodoo said with a lazy grin when my gaze landed on his. “This is balance, baby.”
A smile curved my lips. He loved me. That just set off a stupid set of bubbles detonating through my system. Was it cognitive dissonance to be so happy and so worried and freaked out all at the same time?
Probably. But, here we were.
I exhaled slowly, letting the warmth from the kitchen seep into the fear that kept rattling around inside me. “Okay,” I said. “To sum up, Maikel Castillo is one of the names. Zander Visser is another. And Phillip Roja… or Rojas… we still need to chase the spelling.”
Legend nodded. “AB’s running variations. British accent, Spanish last name—it narrows things.”
“Unless it’s fake,” I pointed out.
“Then we cross-reference accents with travel corridors, visas, or shell corporations,” AB replied. “Accent’s harder to fake consistently over a course of years.”
“So we hunt through a forest of snakes,” I said softly.
Bones touched my shoulder. “It’s not strictly hunting. We’re tracking. We may have to backtrack, but we’re still taking it one step, one print at a time.”
Legend slid the garlic bread into the oven, humming under his breath. “Besides,” he added, “we’re doing it together. Makes us damn hard to beat.”
“And we have lasagna.” Voodoo tipped his head back and rocked his chair up on two legs as he let out a devilish chuckle. “Evil organizations fear lasagna.”
That earned a laugh from all of us, small but real.
Goblin trotted over, nudging my leg until I bent to scratch behind his ears. His tail thumped, steady and grounding.
Home. Or the closest thing to it.
I wasn’t foolish enough to believe we were safe in the world—not with the names being laid out on AB’s laptop like little flags on a battlefield.
The oven timer dinged, and Legend grinned like he’d just won a championship. “Darling Gracie, and the rest of you reprobates, lasagna is officially served.”
Bones gave my waist a squeeze before he dipped his head to press a kiss to my throat. “About time. I was beginning to forget what food looked like outside of a protein bar.”
Voodoo leaned against the counter, arms crossed, smirking. “You’re not going to melt if you wait five more minutes, Cap.”
“I’m not melting, I’m starving,” Bones countered, and the argument dissolved into laughter.
Legend swept the pans onto the table, steam curling upward, rich sauce and cheese wafting through the kitchen. Garlic bread followed, golden and crisp, and he set down a large bowl of salad with a flourish. “Now, who wants to eat like civilized humans instead of zombie mercenaries?”
I perched at the end of the table, Goblin circling my feet, tail flicking in anticipation. Legend gave me a playful smirk. “Or… civilized humans with a very special guest in their lap.”
Before I knew it, he had scooted his chair out slightly, and I settled onto his lap. “What are you doing?” I asked, half amused, half expecting a trick.
“Feeding you,” he said simply, sliding a forkful of lasagna onto my plate and offering it up. “You look too good to let you shovel it into yourself alone.” His warm gaze held mine, mischievous and soft all at once.
I laughed, taking a bite. “You’re terrible.”
“I’m wonderful,” he corrected, feeding me another bite with a grin. “And don’t even think about arguing. You’re in my lap.”
Bones groaned. “I can’t even look at this without my teeth rotting from the sugar.”
Voodoo leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “Jealousy is unbecoming, Bones.”
“I’m not jealous,” Bones muttered, but his jaw gave him away.
“You’re all ridiculous.” AB just smirked, still scanning the laptop while stealing a few forkfuls of salad.
“AB, you should take a break.”
He winked. “Five more minutes.”
I took another bite, letting the warmth of the food and Legend’s easy attentiveness wash over me. For a while, we didn’t talk about names, cartels, or La Madrina. We just ate, teased, and laughed, the sounds and smells wrapping us in comfort.
Goblin bumped my knee, but Voodoo rose and got him his dinner. “Sorry buddy,” he murmured. “I blame Lunchbox.”
“Me too,” AB concurred and the guys laughed, not that Legend seemed to mind.
I leaned back slightly, sighing contentedly. “I could get used to this. Domestic chaos with lasagna and you guys making stupid faces.”
“Domestic chaos is my specialty,” Legend said, holding up the crispy, delightfully savory, garlic bread for me to bite into and I let out a lusty little sigh. It tasted even better than it smelled. “And yes, we adore your stupid expressions, too.”
Bones snorted. “She’s enjoying it. Stop pretending this isn’t what you’re here for.”
“I am enjoying it,” I admitted, smirking through a mouthful. “It’s… nice. Real.”
Voodoo leaned forward, tapping a fork against his chin. “We need more of this. Otherwise, you get cranky. And trust me, cranky Firecracker is terrifying.”
I laughed again, reaching for the piece of garlic bread on the side of my plate. Legend caught it first. “Nope,” he said, lifting another forkful of the cheesy lasagna to my lips. “You get everything in moderation. Even happiness.”
I leaned forward, biting the lasagna, and caught the gleam in his eye that was half mischief, half affection.
The warmth of our laughter, the smell of the food, and the steady presence of the men I trusted—it all pressed together like a shield around me. For a little while, I allowed myself to believe nothing could touch us here.
Then the quiet beep of AB’s laptop cut through the kitchen. One soft, insistent tone. Search complete.
Everyone froze.
AB’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. “Uh… that’s… interesting.” His brow furrowed as he scanned the screen.
Legend straightened in his chair. “Interesting how? Good interesting or bad interesting?”
AB’s eyes darkened. “Both, maybe. I’ve got movement on Maikel Castillo. Him and a couple of others linked to the cartel. Patterns shifting. We might have just found their latest operational node.”
Bones’ jaw tightened. “Figures.”
Voodoo let out a long breath. “Well, that escalated fast.”
I slid off Legend’s lap, my stomach knotting slightly, the comfort of dinner and teasing slipping away. “Show me,” I said quietly.
AB turned the screen toward us, the glow painting our faces. “This isn’t small,” he said. “And it’s not going to be easy. But it’s a start. And we have to move carefully.”
Legend’s hand found mine across the table. “We do this together,” he murmured. “Like everything else.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. The domestic bubble we’d been in—warm, teasing, safe—had burst. But now, like always, we were together. That made the danger manageable.
For now, at least.