CHAPTER TWELVE

Grayson looked down at Jennifer’s sleeping face and felt pangs of guilt, then nothing except absolute euphoria.

She was his and he’d proved it time and again last night.

He wasn’t an asshole. He made sure that it was taken slowly but if she needed more pleasure, he could use a fuck-lot more than his dick.

His hands and tongue were every bit as good. Well, maybe not every bit as good.

When he rose to get into her shower he had a moment of panic staring at the sheets. There was a very clear blood stain. He gently shook her awake, staring between her legs.

“Jenn? Baby, you bled,” he said with tears in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s okay, Grayson. The doctor’s said that I might bleed the first time after what happened. I just forgot. I was lost in us. I’m not hurting,” she lied.

“You are. I can tell. Get in the shower and I’ll wash you,” he said lifting her.

“Grayson, I can wash myself.”

“You can, but you won’t,” he said turning the water on. At first it was ice cold, then slowly warmed to a decent temperature. He made sure every part of her was gently washed, then forced her to sit and allow him to see if he’d done any damage on the outside.

“Grayson! This is humiliating,” she blushed.

“Maybe. But I will not be the man that leaves you hurting. It doesn’t look like I damaged anything.”

“Because you didn’t,” she said touching his face. “I love that you’re so concerned for me but I promise you that I’m feeling nothing except love for you.”

He kissed her, holding her tightly.

“Let me get dressed,” she said. “Go to breakfast and I’ll meet you guys there. I need to braid this wet hair and pack my backpack. Do not leave without me!”

“I promise we won’t,” he smirked. He made his way to the mess tent and the tables of men already pouring over data.

“Where’s Jennifer?” asked Moose.

“She’s coming. She wanted to shower and pack her bag.”

“Everything okay?” asked Striker with a side glance.

“Everything is perfect, Dad. Perfect.”

“Good, let’s talk about what the team found,” said Hunter.

“Wait! I’m here,” said Jennifer running toward them. “Don’t start without me.” Her father filled a plate of her favorite breakfast foods and she smiled when he set it down. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him.

“You remembered,” she said softly.

“I will always remember your favorites. Your favorite food, favorite dessert, favorite song, favorite color. You have belonged to me since the day you were born,” said Moose. “I am your father.”

Everyone knew that Jennifer was not Moose’s biological father but such things were never even whispered at Belle Fleur. She just smiled, kissing her dad’s cheek.

“Speaking of, how is Sergeant?” she asked.

“Wait,” said Sonny. “Your real name is Major. Your son’s name is Sergeant. They’re Hunter, Striker, and Gunner. Is this some kind of test?” The men just chuckled, shaking their heads.

“Nope. All real, brother,” laughed Grayson.

“Intel says that the brotherhood was operating out of an abandoned warehouse near the docks in Toulon. They’re no longer there but it seems that abandoned buildings are their preference,” said U-Jin.

“Who do the buildings belong to?” frowned Rowe. They all stared at him with a questioning gaze. “I mean, maybe there’s a connection to the abandoned buildings. Are they all owned by the same company or person?”

“Great thinking,” smirked Conor. “You’d make a great Shadow Warrior.”

“From your lips to God’s ears, or Mama Irene’s. I’m not sure which,” smiled the young man.

“Same thing,” laughed Gunner.

U-Jin was typing fiercely, checking the previously known locations of the warehouses. When he finally found what he was looking for, there was a dangerous look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” asked Moose.

“The buildings. They’re all owned by Cesar Moreau.”

“The actor?” frowned Striker.

“One and the same. His back story has always been that he was an orphaned boy, raised on the streets and made it good. Maybe he had help along the way,” said Hunter.

“Get us as much intel as you can on him,” said Iggy. “If we can find where he lives, we’ll approach his home.”

“No,” said Grayson. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Listen, Sgt. Major,” smiled Iggy. “We’ve all stepped a bit over the line this week. I don’t think it fucking matters any longer. Take a good look at Kai. Pretty boy half Samoan, half Mexican. I’m not the worst looking guy in the parking lot and I was a drama major in college.”

“What the fuck?” muttered Conor. “No offense. But why?”

“A girl,” he smirked. “Always a girl. Didn’t work out but I was pretty good at the acting gig. Actually did a few commercials to help me pay for school. Then I joined the Corps and found my real purpose.”

“Got it,” said U-Jin. “He has a home in Bandol. It’s a commune in Var department, Provence-Alpes-C?te d'Azur region. Very weird, very artsy, very upper crust. His home is on the water, overlooking the Gulf of Lion.”

“You can’t just walk up and knock on his door asking for the address of his empty warehouses,” said Jennifer.

“No, but we can pretend to be looking for a star for a new movie,” said Kai. “I can ask someone I know in the film business to set it up. Tell him it’s a new Spielberg and Nolan film. He’ll jump on it.”

The men all looked at one another and nodded.

“Okay,” said Grayson. “If you can get him to speak to you, maybe outside on the beach, we could get into the house and search for what we need.”

“I’m sure there are cameras everywhere,” said Romeo.

“We don’t worry about that,” smirked Conor. “Gentlemen, come with me.”

“Kai and Iggy, head into town and buy yourselves the nicest suits on the rack. Everything. Make it expensive,” said Gunner.

“Uh, sir, we don’t make that kind of money,” said Iggy. Gunner handed him a black card and smiled.

“Consider it an early bonus.”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.