Chapter 5 #2
Mikhail slammed the computer shut so hard that the desk rattled.
“You have completely fucked up.” Andrei braced himself for what he knew was coming, and right on cue, his brother’s fist slammed into his gut over and over.
“Get out of here! And don’t let me see you until I figure out how the hell we’re going to smooth this over.
We operate in the shadows, not by breaking into houses like amateurs.
” He spat on the ground. “Useless waste of flesh. You should’ve gone with your mother the day she bled out bringing you into the world. ”
He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth as he stared down at Andrei, where he now knelt gasping for breath. “We’ll collect our due from Mrs. Holland. Even if it costs your worthless life.”
◆◆◆
Grant sipped from his second cup of black coffee, waiting for the bitter brew to clear the cobwebs from his mind, and flipped through TV channels without really seeing any of them.
He’d awakened next to Everly after a few hours of broken sleep and decided morning was close enough to leave the bed without breaking his promise.
Lack of sleep was nothing—STAG operated under extreme conditions on a regular basis—but lying next to his best friend’s widow while she slept was a circumstance he’d never expected to encounter.
At least Everly had slept peacefully for the rest of the night, even if he hadn’t.
Posie yawned from her place atop the cushion behind him, and he reached back to give her head a scratch. She leaned into his hand but suddenly pulled away as Everly entered the room, leaping off the couch to greet her with a meow.
“Morning, baby,” Everly cooed as Posie wound her way between her ankles, chittering and nuzzling her with her head.
“Don’t let her fool you,” Grant called from his place on the couch. “I already fed her breakfast.”
“Sorry, Toots,” Everly told her. “Your new bestie just told on you.” She picked Posie up for a kiss and then padded into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Any updates from Sergeant Lawson this morning?” she called over her shoulder.
Earlier, he’d forwarded her Evan’s text from last night.
Grant reflexively glanced towards the open laptop, where the encryption breaker was still running, files flashing across the screen. “Not much. So far all of the files he’s cracked have been innocuous. Investment records, stuff like that. Nothing helpful.”
Everly finished stirring her coffee and joined him at the other end of the couch. “Too bad there’s no way to narrow down the list. Figure out what’s worth looking through and what’s not.”
“Yeah. It’s a slog, but it’s the only way right now.
Hopefully he’ll call soon with some news.
” He glanced over to where she sat, her feet tucked under her and her hair spilling over one shoulder.
The purple smudges under her eyes had dissipated, and the early morning sun streaming through the window cast a creamy glow on her skin. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.
She sipped from her mug and smiled. “I did. Thanks for staying with me. I don’t think I would have gone back to sleep otherwise.”
“No problem,” Grant said. “Do you get nightmares like that often?” He knew all too well what it felt like to be plagued with nightmares after a traumatic event. To be afraid to go to sleep at night and face your dreams.
“Not as often as I did right after—right after everything happened.” Everly kept her eyes downcast as she spoke. “Therapy has helped a lot with the dreams. I think yesterday was just too much—between the weird texts, the break-in, the laptop. It’s just a lot.”
The knowledge that she had struggled so much after Jeremy’s death ate away at him. He should have done more to reach out, should have been there for her sooner than now. He wanted to protect her, and maybe the best way to do that was teach her how to protect herself.
“Do you know how to shoot a gun?” he asked.
Everly shook her head. “No. I’ve never even tried. Do you…think I need to?” She chewed on her bottom lip, the small movement driving Grant to distraction. He headed into the kitchen to dump his coffee cup in the sink.
“I’m not going to force you,” he said from across the room. “But I think it’s a good idea. Better to have the knowledge and never need it.”
Everly blew out a breath and rose from the couch, gazing out the windows at the mountains beyond.
“I’ll do it,” she told him. “Even though the thought of even touching a gun makes me nervous. Just give me a few minutes to finish my coffee.” She paced around the room, sipping from her mug and surveying the few pieces of thrifted artwork that Grant had hung on the walls.
She stopped in front of the bookshelf. “Who’s this?
” she asked, picking up a gold-framed photo.
A hollow ache bloomed in his chest. He crossed the room and gently took the frame from her hand. “Melissa. My sister.”
“You look very close,” she said.
He gazed at the photograph, remembering the day it had been taken—the last family trip to the lake—and swallowed. “We are. Were. She passed away about three years ago.”
Her breath caught, her fingers brushing his as he handed her the frame. She returned it to its place, then looked up at him with a stricken expression, clasping his hand in hers. “I’m so sorry, Grant.”
He squeezed her hand, small and warm in his. “Thanks. It never gets easier, but you just sort of learn to live with the loss. You know.”
Everly nodded, looking at the photo where it sat on the shelf. She hadn’t known, he realized. He’d assumed she did, that Jeremy had told her what happened. But maybe he hadn’t wanted to scare her. Make her afraid for those times when he was gone.
He shoved the thoughts aside. No point in agonizing over questions that would never be answered, no matter how little sense it made. He gave Everly’s hand a final squeeze and then let go, moving to retrieve his jacket from the coat hook. “Ready for some target practice?”