Any other route would be incredibly difficult for them to traverse.”
“And none of the southern cameras are down?” Lucky asks worriedly.
Jasper doesn’t reply, but the screens flicker as he runs through all the southern cameras. All show varying images of dense, dark woods.
We watch the cameras for a moment as I think. How did they know where the cameras were? They’re concealed. Not easy to stumble on.
And how are they heading in a direct line for Bristlebrook?
“Bullshit,” Jayk growls. “Maybe they got themselves equipment good enough to sense our gear. Maybe. But they don’t have a fucking invisibility cloak. No way they don’t show on any one of the cameras before they cut the feed. They knew where they were. And they knew the tech well enough to stop it tripping our sensors.”
Lucky examines Jayk with a sudden half-grin. “Was that a Harry Potter reference?”
Jayk scowls. “I had a childhood too, you know.”
“Did you identify with the basilisk?” Lucky asks seriously.
Ignoring them, Beau edges toward the screens. “So they knew where the cameras were but, what? Except for one?”
He grimaces dubiously.
Jayk flips Lucky off and then shrugs. “The live one is C30—we only installed that one last fall. Could be working off old intel.”
“But who even knew about the cameras except us?” Beau questions. “Our old group knew we were installing them before they left, but they didn’t see where we put them. Only we knew their locations.”
Jasper turns his chair, and he studies me, chin on his fingers. I fight to keep every muscle from locking up. I know what he’s thinking. I’m thinking it too.
I shake my head once. “That’s not it.”
“Heather and Thomas knew,” Jasper says, silk over steel.
Her name is like an iron fire poker—one glowing amber, fresh from the coals. It sears through my gut. If I could, I’d wipe her name from their mouths, their minds. Fuck them for thinking of her. Fucking them for thinking that of her.
Heather was a lot of things, but she wouldn’t have sold me out.
My lip curls. “She. Wouldn’t. Do. This.”
Beau pushes off from the wall, watching me. He sets his feet in a fighting stance, like he doesn’t even realize it.
I taught him that stance. Fucker.
His eyes run over my face. “Maybe we should consider—”
My temper flares, and I have to unwrap my hands from their fists so I don’t end up slugging him. My father taught me better than that. No punching subordinates. Especially no punching friends.
But I can’t stop the words from swinging out of my mouth. “We don’t need to consider shit. None of you liked her, fine, but that doesn’t make her the enemy. She was a cop, for fuck’s sake. She saved my life. She’s not going to turn her back on all that because you bullied her on the goddamned playground.”
“You and I have very different memories of how that went down,” Jasper snipes.
Like he wasn’t the worst of them all.
Fierce, gorgeous, brave, submissive Heather.
There doesn’t seem to be enough air in the room.
Or maybe it’s just that thinking of her always makes me feel like I’m drowning.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, hard, fighting for control. “None of that matters. We have four to the north, closing in. We have upwards of twenty to the south. While the south is stationary, we need to take care of the northern threat. Now. I don’t want them anywhere near Bristlebrook.”
Making the call eases some of the tightness in my chest. It clears my thoughts. Now isn’t the time to be hurting over my ex or fighting with the guys. We have a job to do.
A home to protect.
“Beau, you’re with me. We leave at oh-four-hundred tomorrow. I want them cleared out by the following day.”
To my surprise, Beau hesitates, and my teeth click together. “What?”
“It’s my night with Eden tomorrow.”
The whole room catches its breath.
That drowning sensation starts creeping into my chest again, like my lungs can’t get enough air. I could spit a dozen things right now, but for some reason my usual rage doesn’t come to save me.
Why is he pulling this now? We have bigger things to worry about.
“I need you with me.” My voice is low but thankfully even enough.
I always need him with me.
Beau looks uncomfortable, one hand rubbing his chest. He glances at Jayk, at Lucky. Jaykob just smirks, starts trimming his nails with his pocketknife. That fucking knife.
Lucky clears his throat, offering, “I can go.”
But my eyes are trained on my friend. Steady, dependable Beau. He’d really choose a night with some girl over watching my back? Didn’t he learn from my mistakes? Doesn’t he know the girl will only break his heart?
Sometimes I’m not sure what was worse—losing Heather, or losing Beau’s trust.
A pair of frightened, defiant gray-blue eyes wink into my mind. For some reason, they won’t stay out of there. The fear in them stirs me. The bravery . . .
It doesn’t matter.
She isn’t worth it.
She’s not worth the distractions. The risks.
She’s sure as hell not worth the cracks that are spiderwebbing across our friendship.
“There are four of them. There’s a good chance we’ll need a medic,” I grit out, hating that a hint of panic laces my voice.
“Reschedule your damn date.”
Resentment, clear as day, flashes across his face. His square jaw is tight, set—but fuck him for that. I do need him.
Because he’s a doctor, of course, and we don’t know how that fight will go down.
And because Beau always falls too fast.
Why can’t he see that I’m protecting him, keeping him away like this? He doesn’t need to get hurt again.
After too long of a pause, Beau’s hand drops from where he was rubbing his chest and his expression closes over. “Yes, sir. Oh-four-hundred.”
Relief crashes through me, and I reinforce my knees.
“There are four of them. Will you need extra hands?” Jasper asks, sitting back and glancing at Lucky.
Jasper’s face is blank and serene as a glacier, but I know to watch his right hand. Long fingers worry his wedding band, which he now wears on his other hand. Round and round.
I force a grim smile. “To handle four? Two is plenty.” And it is. Not a one of those four will have an ounce of our training.
“Jaykob is right, though. Something about this isn’t right. I’d feel better knowing we have people here watching the house. It could—”
“Ah.” The surprised exhale from Jasper stops me short. His dark gaze has snared on a much smaller screen, set up on his laptop. He turns it. “It appears we have company.”
There’s a touch of humor in the tilt of his mouth.
My eyes drop to the screen, and I freeze, rage licking at my insides. The girl has the nerve to— “Did you leave the bookcase open?” I demand of Beau.
His chin drops, face hardening. “Of course not.”
She worked it out. The hidden latch that would open the hidden door in the bookcase. She crept down the short corridor, lightly enough that we couldn’t hear her, and is now standing outside the door, studying the keypad panel with a small frown.