Chapter Fourteen #3
The convoy continued forward.
I scanned the empty bridge for another ten minutes to make sure no other vehicles followed.
Then we headed home.
* * *
Jade waited on the couch in the common room when we walked in. One of my T-shirts on. Her hair twisted into a messy knot. Eyes locked on the door.
Aside from Spade and Atilla, the room sat mostly empty. Late hour. Kids in bed. Most of the guys gone to their rooms or out on gate duty.
She stood when she saw me.
I dropped onto the couch. She sank down beside me immediately, thigh pressed to mine.
Spade closed his laptop. “We’ll watch to see what changes. Routes. Times. Paranoia.”
“Why paranoia?” Jade asked.
“He clearly felt like he was being watched or at least sensed something was off. He’s not the type to just brush that off. I have no doubt Diaz’s security guys will earn their pay this week.”
“He going to hit back?” Jade asked.
“Eventually,” Atilla replied. “He’ll either lash out or go quiet. Either way, he knows we can touch his world. That matters.”
“I’m tired of safe and breathing meaning trapped,” she said.
“You weren’t trapped,” I reminded her. “You held the kids while they cried. You sat in Spade’s office for hours decoding Jason’s notes when everyone else gave up.”
Jade crossed her arms. “You talk as though I performed some heroic deed.”
“Because you did.” I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “Go ahead and romanticize us standing on bridges all night. The truth? Without people keeping doors locked and children calm, we’d lose our minds out there.”
She stared at the floor, considering my words.
“These days I work as translator, babysitter, drill sergeant…” Jade counted on her fingers. “Plus, emotional crutch for both Spade and you.”
“Sounds almost resentful.”
“No.” Jade shook her head emphatically. “The responsibility overwhelms me sometimes. Three months ago, I struggled to pay rent.”
I reached for her hand. “The woman who worried about electric bills doesn’t exist anymore.”
“Sometimes I miss her,” she admitted. “She worried about stupid shit. Electric bills. Grocery lists. Whether my neighbor would steal my laundry out of the dryer.”
I caught her hand and laced our fingers together.
“I can’t give you back your old life,” I said.
“I wouldn’t want to anyway. You’ve grown stronger.
You walk around pissed off and see the world clearly now.
And you belong with me. None of these qualities work well with pretending Diaz doesn’t exist.”
She squeezed my fingers. “Possessive much?”
My thumb traced circles on her wrist. “Damn right. When I say you’re mine, I mean something completely different.”
She squeezed my hand. “I know,” she said.
Spade stood, stretching. “I’m going to go spoon my laptop and talk sweet nothings to my code,” he said. “You kids behave.”
“Atilla?” General asked.
“Get some sleep,” he said. “Both of you. When Diaz screams, we’ll hear it. No use staying up to stare at the walls until then.”
They left us alone.
Jade shifted so she could tuck herself against my side, her head on my shoulder, her hand resting over my heart.
“You good?” I asked.
“For now,” she said.
I rested my cheek against her hair. “You ever think we’d end up here?” I asked. “You in our clubhouse, me smelling like river and asphalt, both of us making war plans between library dates?”
Jade laughed. “A year ago? I would’ve asked what someone slipped in your drink.”
“And now?” My thumb traced her wrist.
She leaned closer, her breath warm against my neck. “The roads led here. Jason chose his path. You chose yours. I made my decisions. Every wrong turn, every right one -- they all converged on this exact spot.”
“Sounds like fate.” I shifted to face her.
Jade shook her head, eyes meeting mine. “Pure chaos. We carved something meaningful from the wreckage.”
She tilted her head up.
I kissed her. Slow at first. Then deeper.
Her fingers slid up into my hair, tugging. My hand settled on her hip, anchoring her closer. Her breath hitched.
The war sat outside. Diaz. Victor. Men in black SUVs.
Inside, for a moment, I had this.
We broke apart eventually because lungs demanded oxygen.
She rested her forehead against mine. “You still planning to ask the thing?” she asked, voice soft.
“What thing?” I asked.
“The patch,” she said. “At Church. Proper. When I’m not pretending my hands aren’t shaking.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Soon. Once we cut Diaz’s legs down enough we can stand still without worrying about sniper fire.”
“You scared?” she asked.
“Terrified.”
She traced the outline of my tattoo with her fingertips. “You marked me without ink. When you call me ‘my woman’ with that growl in your voice. When your eyes tell me I matter beyond the headache I bring.”
“Worth every second.”
Her smile crept across her face, slow and warm.
“Diaz loses ground while we gain territory.” She leaned closer, her breath warm against my neck. “The scales tip in our favor now.”
She sighed and tucked herself under my arm again. We sat there in the dark, listening to the hum of the fridge and the faint cries of some forgotten cartoon in the TV room. I held Jade and planned the next move.
Love and war, all tangled up.
Savage Raptors business as usual.