by Em Petrova
In a second, Lars assessed his brother. “Something went wrong. What was it?”
Roman’s chest expanded with the full breath he drew. “Long story.”
Lars’s stomach pitched. “Is it North?”
Roman’s features pinched. “No, he’s all right. Recovering at home. I’m pretty sure he’s got some pretty nurse caring for his every need.”
Relief washed through Lars, and he dropped to the bench next to Roman. “Thank God for that. You had me worried for a minute. So what else happened?”
At that moment, several footsteps sounded from behind, one set of them walking with purpose. They twisted in the pew to see Oz striding up the aisle with his twin sons right behind him.
Standing, Lars held out a hand to Oz. His boss gripped it hard and yanked him in for a thump on the back, which Lars returned. Then he moved to extend a hand to Nick and Alex in turn.
Roman did the same, and he drew the boys into a conversation about their upcoming departure for basic training. Oz gave him a thunderous look that Lars didn’t miss.
While they spoke with all the enthusiasm of a much younger Oz, Lars pitched his voice low to the boss man.
“I thought they were leaving for basic sooner.”
“It seems Nick tried to stop it.”
Lars’s brows shot up. “He had a change of heart about enlisting in the Navy?” Not only was Oz a retired SEAL, but their grandfather wore the bars of a general.
“Yeah.” Oz threw a look at the twins, who stood joking with Roman now. The dark, brooding stare softened the longer he looked at his sons. “Nick wants to skip all that and join the Church.”
Lars shook his head. “Bad idea.”
“No shit. I’ve argued with them both until my tongue about fell off. Rose has too. They’re just young enough to only see the adventure and not the true dangers. They think their military school training and ROTC bullshit prepared them for The Guard, but they’re fucking wrong.”
Lars placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Maybe Roman and I can talk sense into them.”
“Good fucking luck. They’re as stubborn as—”
“You?” he cut him off.
Oz shook his head and a reluctant chuckle left his throat. “Guess I deserve that.”
Roman clapped Alex on the back. “Let’s see if we can rustle up some snacks, whattaya say?”
“I could eat.” Alex grinned.
Oz smiled back. Despite the frustration with his boys, he clearly loved them so damn much. Lars had to wonder how it felt to claim a family the way Oz had.
Now why did his mind shoot straight to Lillian?
Roman, Oz and the twins went off in search of food, and Lars remained in place. Though staring up at the depiction of Heaven on the back wall, he only saw the woman he’d just placed in a safehouse outside of DC. He had nothing to worry about. So why did he feel the need to return to see with his own eyes that she remained safe?
On the trip to the safehouse, she’d seen little of the America she feared falling in love with, but damn if he didn’t want to show her so much more. His mind scattered to a huge RV and a road trip of the States. Several mental snapshots filled his imagination—Lillian standing on the plains of the Midwest. The Gulf Coast and her dressed in one of those string bikinis, running into the warm waters. And Lillian in profile, staring out over the Grand Canyon…
He issued a hot sigh and stomped back to the chamber to join the others. Oz threw him a questioning look as he entered, and he settled in one of the chairs and faced the twins. Roman slapped a couple bags of potato chips on the table, and the boys dug in.
“You know,” Lars said, “staying in shape is one of the creeds of the Guard. I’m surprised we even have junk food sitting around.”
Oz shifted in his seat. “We usually don’t. Wonder who bought chips?”
“They’re left over from Sanders’ induction into the Church. His request,” Roman said.
Oz snorted. “Guess nothing surprises me when it comes to Sanders.”
“He’s the one who showed up out of nowhere, came in under your radar?” Nick asked his father. Suddenly, Lars wondered if the boys called him Dad. After going eighteen years without calling anyone by that name, it would be a hard adjustment for them all.
With a nod, Oz reached for his bottled water. “He’s got some fierce skills.”
Lars eyed Nick and Alex. Both were tall, broad and showed so much promise, if they had the right training. “You know, you guys will be bigger than your father once you complete basic. You’ll pile on so much muscle you’ll give the old man a run for his money.”
Oz arched a brow at him, but the look Roman shot his way said he totally caught on to Lars’s plan.
“We aren’t so sure basic training is our course anymore,” the twin Lars believed to be Nick said. They were so close in appearance, and he hadn’t been around them much over the course of the past few months, since he’d spent much time overseas.
“Didn’t you already sign the papers?” he asked.
“They’ve been dragging their feet,” Oz interjected.
Lars nudged Roman. “Was it you who told me about those hotties you and a buddy hooked up with on your leave when you were stationed in Parris Island?”
Roman chuckled and rubbed at his five o’clock shadow. “Oh yeah… Dude, I can’t even talk about such things in polite company. The things we did…”
Oz leveled a look at Lars, who only shrugged at his boss. So what if they were luring the boys in with depraved acts with hot women to get them to complete their basic training. The young men had enough common sense to handle themselves, and who didn’t need to sow some wild oats?
He let his grin spread over his face. “I’ve got a few memories like that too. Damn…” He trailed off as if reminiscing on his past experiences, when the only thing filling his mind was a gorgeous and confusing French press agent—one who carried a knife in her boot while oohing and aahing at flocks of fluffy sheep in the French fields.
Oz caught his smile and shook his head in disgust.
“C’mon, Oz. Don’t tell us you didn’t have your share of fun during basic.”
“I refuse to discuss it in front of my sons.”
They all burst out laughing at his hard-ass tone that all of them saw right through.
“Let’s go find Mom.” Nick stood.
Alex followed, and they went out of the chamber, in search of Rose, who now held a place within the Church doing research.
Oz watched them go and then reached for a potato chip. “How the hell do you guys do that?”
Roman cocked his head. “What?”
“Command their respect like that.”
“They respect you, man. You only need a set of eyes and a nut in your head to see it.”
“It’s not the same. I can’t tell you the number of times we’ve gone around in circles about the basic training issue.”
“Well, they need training. None of us would argue that.” Lars smiled. “As for us commanding their respect… One, we’re not banging their mom. And two, we didn’t pull that ‘he has risen from the ashes’ shit you did when you told them you’re their father.”
“And three, we’re not dragging our feet to make it legal with said mom,” Roman added.
Oz sat up straighter.
“When the hell are you gonna ask the woman to marry you?” Lars put the pressure on his boss.
“She’s not ready.” Oz grabbed another chip, and at this point, Lars could see him about to stress binge the whole bag.
“Have you asked her?” Roman’s question had Oz scraping his fingers through his short hair.
“Hell no. I’m not about to ask if she’d marry me. What if she says no?”
“Then you’re afraid of rejection.”
“Hell no. I know she’d say yes.”
“Then why wait?” Lars returned.
“You guys are dicks.” Oz shoved the chip bag away from him, not before he took a third and stuf
fed it into his mouth.
Lars and Roman laughed long after Oz walked out of the chamber. Lars’s chuckle faded, and he eyed his friend.
“Your turn, man. Tell me what the hell has you looking like someone killed your dog and your wife just died.”
“Nice John Wick reference. Though it’s nothing so dark.”
“Problem with a mission?” Lars probed.
“When isn’t there a problem with a mission? We always encounter the unexpected.”
“So what unexpected thing did you encounter?”
Roman remained silent for so long that Lars thought he might never respond. When he finally looked at him, the pain seemed to emanate from the man in waves.
“Shit, Roman.”
He nodded, throat working. “I saved this woman and her baby.”
“The case with the husband who tried to trade her and the child in exchange for that shipment of heroin?”
He nodded and fell silent again.
“You got her safe, in the end, right? Her and her child?”
“Yes,” he grated out. “But she told me shit. It’s fucking haunting me, man.”
Lars sighed. “He tortured her?”
“Yes. She showed me scars. One burn wound hadn’t even healed. It festered.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.” He pushed to his feet, his back to Lars, hiding his emotion over the encounter. Though nobody calling themselves human didn’t feel something when they saw or heard shit like that.
His mind shot to Lillian again. The woman affected him, in a completely different way, but he felt more protective of her than all the others he’d guarded combined.
Lars cleared his throat. “You did your best by her and her child, Roman. Just know that she’ll never be harmed again, because of you.”
He nodded though he didn’t turn. Lars sensed he needed some time alone, so he left the chamber.
* * * * *
Lars paused at the keyed entrance of North’s apartment complex. Buttons lined the side panel, but he didn’t bother to look up his buddy’s apartment number or push the button. That’s what microchips are for.
He lifted a hand to the lock. He heard the click and turned the handle to enter. Five flights of stairs later, he reached North’s floor. He shifted the six-pack of beer to one hand and tucked the bag of chicken wings against his side so he could rap on the door.
Seconds later, a pretty woman wearing scrubs with a sweater over her attire opened the door, a smile on her face. “Come on in. He says he’s expecting you.”
He gave her a nod of thanks and stepped inside.
“In here, Brother.”
He grinned at the sound of North’s voice. As he navigated the apartment, past a row of coat hooks where at least three black leather jackets hung, he entered the living room. The couch faced the TV, though North wasn’t watching anything. He sat sideways, with his lower leg propped on several pillows.
As Lars looked on, the nurse bustled over to North and fussed with his pillows.
He smiled at her. “Thank you, Sadie.”
“Of course. Can I get you something to drink?”
She and North both looked to Lars, and he raised the beer. “Brought us some refreshments. Hope it doesn’t mess with your painkillers.”
North shot him a grin. “Fuck it. I could go for a cold one. Have a seat.”
The nurse gave North a disapproving frown and then tactfully removed herself from the room. Lars watched her go.
“Nice ass,” he said.
“Don’t I know it. I’ve watched her wiggle it enough.” North groaned, and Lars chuckled at him.
Looking his friend over, Lars said, “You seem to be mostly intact.”
“Missin’ a bit of my shin bone, but they tell me it’ll be fine.”
“Thank Christ. You don’t want to miss out on all the fun.”
North grinned at his reference to their work. “Hand me a beer, man. It’s good to see your face.”
Lars removed a cold one from the carry case and passed it to North, who flipped the top off with a flick of his thumb. Lars did the same and they sipped for a moment.
“Tell me how things are.” North pitched his voice low.
Lars slanted a glance at the place where the nurse had disappeared. “Running smooth. You’re not the only one out with injuries, though. We’re down two missionaries.”
Lowering the bottle from his lips, North nodded. “I heard. Damn, that hits the spot. Thank you.”
“Brought some wings too.”
“Now those I’m not sure I can eat.” North lifted his shirt to reveal a fresh scar down his abdomen. “Shot me through the damn gall bladder. Lost it the hard way.”
“At least you won’t get stones. No matter, I’ll eat the wings myself.” He set the bag on the coffee table separating them.
“How’s Oz holding up without me?”
“Oz is Oz. High-strung, stressed and overworked. Though having Rose and the twins is forcing him away from the Church a bit.”
“Thank God for that. The man couldn’t continue on the road he was forever.”
“That’s true.” He eyed North. The guys all ribbed him about his curly hair. The sandy locks made him look like a cross between a surfer and a hipster. He also appeared younger than his years, which got him into places some of the rest of them couldn’t, even with good disguises. North had been infiltrating a group of criminals to take out the leader, when they turned on him. He barely got out with his life, and if not for Archer’s quick first-aid efforts, he wouldn’t be alive now.
Lars waved at his hair. “I like the top-knot style, man.”
Eyes creased with amusement, he poked at the man bun. “You’ve always been jealous of my hair.”
He ruffled his fingers through his own thick straight locks. “I can’t complain. At least I’m not balding yet.”
They shared a chuckle.
“What are you currently working on? Still following the racecar driver?”
The question felt like someone stuck a hook in his heart and gave it a jerk. He lifted his beer as a cover and filled his mouth with the brew. After he swallowed, he nodded. “Close to the end now. We’re heading out later today.”
“Overseas, I’m sure.”
He didn’t respond. They all knew each other’s business and yet rarely spoke of their movements aloud. Plus, he wouldn’t risk that nurse overhearing something, though if The Guard hired her, she must have clearance.
“What’s the story on the mark changing?” North pitched his voice to a whisper.
Lars’s gut twisted up at the mention of Lillian. He struggled with wanting her hourly anyway—hell, who was he kidding? He thought about the woman more often than that.
“She identified the wrong person and they took a shot at her for it.”
North settled against the pillow behind his back, beer cradled in his lap. “Simple then. Cut and dry?”
“Pretty much. Though these things take time.” They both knew getting to the core of the rotten apple typically took time, with a lot of smokescreens placed between the criminals and The Guard to throw them off their hunt.
“Who are you workin’ with?” North asked.
“Roman, mostly. Sometimes Madeline. And Sanders landed us some major intel that’s helped out a lot.”
North cocked a brow at him. “Roman? Thought you two were on the outs. I’m surprised he’s backing you up.”
Lars shrugged. “We work together fine.”
“Kissed and made up, I hope. Can’t have tension in the Church. It fucks us all up and shit goes wrong.”
“That’s true. Yeah, we patched things up when I kicked his ass on the race track.”
North laughed. “Damn, I’m sorry I missed that. Bet Roman didn’t know what he was up against. Nobody can handle speed like you do.”
Lars gave him a nod of appreciation. “Soon as you get patched up, I’ll challenge you to a race too.”
Tipping his head, North asse
ssed him. “Yeah, I think I could knock you down a peg or two. That chip on your shoulder’s getting pretty damn big.”
Laughing, Lars polished off the rest of his beer and hooked his boot over his knee in a relaxed pose. “Man, haven’t you heard that nothing’s ever too big?” He purposely nodded to his boot, a size fourteen.
North snorted. “You always were the biggest bullshitter among us, Ivanov.”
His only response came in the form of a crooked grin. After a moment, he said, “You seem more relaxed. When was your last leave?”
“Too damn long. I stole off with a woman for a few days Mardis Gras 2018.”
“Holy shit. How the hell did you get away with working that long without leave? Oz never allows us to go that long.”
“He didn’t know. Or didn’t check up, I guess. I kind of throw myself into those maps I’m always scouring, and it’s hard to remember to come up for air sometimes.”
“Two years’ worth of sometimes?”
“Guess so, yeah.”
“Maybe after you heal up, you can take that pretty nurse somewhere nice.”
North gave a noncommittal shrug. The man was as married to his work as the rest of them. The more hours that separated Lars from Lillian, though, the more he felt it might be time for a getaway of his own. A clandestine rendezvous, a remote island and a beautiful lover.
“How ’bout you?” North asked. “When did you last take a leave?”
“After Christmas. Saw my parents.”
“That’s all good, but what about personal pleasures? Anybody you’d like to take on a trip?”
His throat closed up. For a moment, he thought he might spill it out and risk it all. Since he’d dropped Lillian off a week ago, he’d struggled to keep his desire for the woman locked up in that steel-lined vault within him. He did manage to keep his mouth shut, though.
He shook his head. “No one.”
“Too bad. Once in a while we could use a little release, right?”
He thought of Guernsey. “That we do, man.”
Damn, what he wouldn’t give for another chance to be alone with Lillian.
* * * * *
“How do you say ‘I’m cooking pasta. Would you like to help?’” The woman standing in the doorway of the room where Lillian stayed offered her an inviting smile.
