Chapter 40
Sean
The giddy sensation spreading through me reminds me of the way I felt as a kid when my mom would take me and Callie to the candy store at the mall in early April, during the three weeks between our birthdays.
My stomach would flip like a fish out of water as I took in the sight of the floor-to-ceiling display of glass jars containing every type of candy imaginable.
My mom would give us cellophane bags and tell us we could fill them with whatever we wanted, so long as the top still zipped at the end.
Watching Louhi unlock the glass case containing the Ruger Mark IV now, I experience that same elated feeling. But this is better.
The four of us are perusing Lou’s stash of weapons like they’re rare aquatic animals to admire in an aquarium. Mercer even set the computer aside.
While working out, I started chugging water for the excuse to grab another bottle so I could glimpse his screen.
It didn’t tell me much. I know fuck-all about hacking and encrypted shit, but I think he’s been messaging with someone or trying to.
I want to ask about it, but I’m desperate to keep that smile on Lou’s lips, and I don’t want to be the one to wipe it off.
It’s growing difficult to assuage my discomfort, though.
I’m curling my fingers around the pistol before Lou’s even got the key out of the lock. The pad of my thumb glides over the cool metal barrel, caressing the handgun like a fucking freak.
“I lied,” I admit. “I said that a Glock would be my weapon of choice, but that was before I held this gun. I’m changing my answer.”
When Lou giggles, the sound makes my insides flop for an entirely different reason. “Keep it then.”
My head snaps up, my eyes locking with hers. “I can’t, baby. It’s yours.”
She waves a hand through the air dismissively, her onyx fingernail polish catching the bright fluorescent lights of the basement. As she shakes her head, her black bob swishes around her neck. “And now it’s yours. Every weapon deserves to be cherished.”
I smirk at my girl, feeling as though I just overfilled my cellophane bag, and the candy is going to explode at any moment. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be my number one girl.”
She tilts her head back, her bubbly laughter bouncing off the concrete walls like invisible helium balloons. “I better be. While others might worry about their man cheating with a human being, I’ll be concerned about a firearm.”
“Baby, this gun is the second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m offended by that statement,” Jace interjects from where he inspects an AR-15. He sets it down on the counter and continues to peruse the options displayed before us.
Mercer noisily rifles through the previously locked cabinets that contained ammunition, stacking it on the counter. Next, he removes a handful of metal knives in the shape of stars, with four sharp blades, and sets them next to the cardboard boxes filled with bullets.
Lou squeals, reaching for the tiny weapons. “My shuriken! I was wondering where I’d left those. I had to replace them.” Her attention shifts toward her brother. “Want to play darts later? The way we used to.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Even with one good arm, I’ll still win.”
Louhi rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. I want to see that look on her face every day for the rest of my life. “Are you guys up for shuriken darts?”
Jace and I share a look that says, what the fuck, but nod all the same.
After a moment, Lou shifts, dropping her hip against the counter. “Well, Honey Eyes, are you going to fall in love?”
His face contorts, and he appears as though she’s just slapped him across the face. “Fuck, I really hope not.”
She rolls her pretty brown eyes again, but her smile is forced. “With a weapon, obviously.”
“Oh.” He considers her thoughtfully and nods. “In that case, I’m ready to fall head over heels.”
I pass Jace the SIG P320, knowing it’s exactly what he’d choose.
“Just call me Mr. Sauer,” Jace quips, holding up the handgun to carefully inspect it. “I’m taking my wife’s name.”
I snort. I’m surprised he isn’t kissing the damned thing.
My attention snags on Mercer, who’s gathering his computer and whatever magazines and boxes of ammunition he can carry.
When he heads upstairs, I begin to gather the various handguns and ammunition—as well as the throwing stars—and take them to our bedroom.
If I want answers, I’m going to have to hunt them down myself.
The first thing I notice when I step into Mercer’s bedroom, now that I’ve dropped four handguns and a handful of star-shaped darts in our primary suite, is the snow that’s piled on the windowsill.
If we stay here much longer, we’ll be stuck, assuming the sky continues to dump buckets of snow the way it has.
After the coffee and workout, it feels as though the ice between us is beginning to thaw… maybe. I hope so, anyway.
The man in question is sitting on the floor, hunched over, with his back to me. When I edge closer, I find that he’s typing on the computer again.
“Mercer.”
He doesn’t respond. I’m sure losing an ear has affected his hearing, especially since it’s still bandaged up. My attention lands on the names and words on the wall. He’s clearly planning something big. Has he told Louhi about this already? If so, is she going to clue me in?
I call his name again, and he jolts briefly as I approach him, his brown eyes flicking up to me. “Yes?”
I open my mouth but slam it shut when my gaze lands on the screen boasting a familiar name. The same two words are circled on the wall above Mercer’s head—The Shadows.
“Who are you communicating with?” Smooth going, Sean.
His dark eyebrows slash low, lips thinning as his frown consumes his features. He looks eerily similar to Louhi, especially when he’s irritated. “What’s it to you?”
It’s everything to me. Louhi is my whole damn world now. What kind of guard dog would I be if her safety wasn’t my top priority?
It’s reckless to be communicating with anyone right now.
If he escaped the Fifth Special Forces Group, it’s safe to assume the military is monitoring his communications.
I’m pretty fucking sure they’re doing the same for Louhi.
While I’m abundantly sure that my girl is taking every precaution to cover her tracks, I don’t know Mercer well enough to have the same reassurance that he’s being smart about this.
Not when something about that email drops a lead weight into the pit of my stomach.
“Does Louhi know about this?” Please say yes. That would go a long way in making me feel better.
He holds my stare. What he doesn’t realize is that I could do this all day. Until a few weeks ago, I got paid to wait people out. I outlasted almost every one of them.
“Louhi and I don’t discuss work,” he states simply, fixing his attention back on the computer, his fingers moving fast over the keyboard.
It’s a dismissal, and I grind my molars against the urge to shove him against the wall and make him tell me what’s going on.
But this is Louhi’s brother. I won’t touch him.
The last thing I want to do is upset Lou.
“This looks like it involves her,” I grit out through clenched teeth. My fists ball tightly at my sides, and I focus on breathing so I don’t strangle him.
He glances at me once more, but says nothing. With my chest tight and blood heated, I prowl from the room then like a lion who’s spotted a meal that he plans to come back to. I find Lou in the kitchen with Jace, who’s sitting on the countertop behind her, his head resting against the cabinetry.
“Can we discuss your brother’s bedroom now?” I demand, with more bite than I intended. “He has the computer—”
She sighs. “I’ve seen the wall, or at least parts of it, but that’s his work, and we have a strict rule about not involving each other in business.”
I flick my gaze to Jace, who lifts a shoulder.
This is a matter of safety and security. She clearly thinks that her brother and I just can’t get along, which isn’t true. If he’d stop putting my girl in danger, we could be best fucking friends. I’m not unreasonable.
“I think you need to suspend that rule, Lou. If we’ve been compromised here, we need to know that.”
She’s quiet as she dumps some spices into the pot, then bends down and removes three racks of sizzling lamb chops from the oven. I know she heard me.
Letting her think over my statement, I watch Jace bring the bottle of beer in his hands to his lips. Not a bad plan.
I spin around, reaching into the refrigerator. “Grab me another, will you?” I can’t read the label, so I have no idea what kind it is that Louhi brought back, but it’s good. Jace must like it, too. He catches the bottle I toss in his direction with one hand.
Next, I uncork the bottle of Bordeaux and remove a wineglass from the cabinet, dumping a heavy pour into the globe. I can fulfill half of her wish.
When I set it next to the stove, she beams up at me, the tiny lines around her eyes crinkling, and I wonder if my stomach will stop flipping every time that expression is aimed in my direction.
I wrap my hands around her middle and brush a kiss to the top of her head.
“Baby,” I murmur against the shell of her ear. “I’m worried about you, about us, about your brother. Can we address the wall art?” Please.
She blows out a breath and turns in my arms. “Alright, we’ll discuss it over dinner, which will be ready in ten minutes.”