My fingers tremble as I wipe at them. “Baby,” I whisper again.
“You did it,” she says. “You sent that dumb biker bastard on his final motorcycle ride in the sky.”
“Evie,” I say, a chuckle escaping me as I shake my head. “There aren’t any motorcycles in hell.”
“Oh right.” She laughs too, and it ends in a hiccup. “How silly of me.”
Ducking my head, I touch my lips gently to hers. I’d rather bury my tongue in her mouth until neither of us can breathe, but I don’t want to hurt her.
Drawing back, I take in her vest while my siblings deal with Grudge. Mitch is checking his pulse, Mac is kicking him in his side, taking whatever revenge she can get, and Travis is tugging off his own shirt. Mitch turns Grudge slightly, enough for Travis to reach in and pluck the bikers weapon free using the cotton in his hand, careful not to leave prints. He sets it carefully in Grudge’s hand, putting his fingers in all the right places.
Then a shirtless Travis looks at us. “Move.”
We shift off to the side and Travis raises the gun he’s holding around Grudges hand. He fires off a shot, hitting a tree, before setting his arm back down.
They’re protecting me without question, setting up the evidence for self-defence. It’s what Valentine’s do. We take care of each other, no matter the cost.
I reach for the vest after Mitch removes her cuffs, quickly flicking open one of the straps.
“Wait!” Evie cries out when I’m reaching for another.
I stop.
We all stop.
And then I know, and I feel sick. “No.”
“It’s rigged to blow if I take it off,” she whispers, unable to look at me as she speaks.
I let go of the strap.
Mitch, Travis, and Mac walk over, all four of us staring at the vest while Evie stares at us.
My eldest brother works his jaw for a moment before tugging his phone free. He makes a call and puts it on speaker, holding the device out in the middle of our circle.
Rossiter answers. “Mitch.”
“We got Evie.”
We all hear his sigh of relief. “Thank god. And Grudge?”
“Neutralised.”
“Good.”
“How far out is the bomb squad?” Mitch asks, his voice grim.
“Shit,” Rossiter mutters, understanding the situation immediately. “We’re just turning in now. I can see your cars up ahead.”
My nostrils flare. “Hurry up.”
“See you in a minute.”
Mitch ends the call and the five of us stand quietly as we wait, the gravity of this new predicament giving weight to the silence.
Eventually hearing the crack of a branch, we all turn. They’re here. Rossiter, and four members of the NSW Rescue and Bomb Disposal Unit are headed right for us. The vest is inspected and they share a look. Not the good kind, but the kind that leaves me uneasy.
One of the guys gets kitted out and another gives the order to step back. All the way back.
I take hold of Evie’s hand. It trembles in mine. I squeeze it. “They do this kind of thing all the time. You’re going to be fine.”
Her voice wobbles. “Of course I am.”
“Jared?” Rossiter takes hold of my shoulder. “You’re going to have to step back.”
I shake my head. “No.”
The Deputy Commissioner gives Mitch a look.
My eldest brother presses his lips together and steps forward. “Jared.” He takes my arm.
I shrug him off. “No.”
Evie swallows and looks at me. “You need to go.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“It’s just for a minute.”
My tone is firm. “I’m not leaving you.”
Mitch tries taking hold of my arm again. “The technician can’t do his job until you’re out of the way.”
“No!” I shout, pushing Mitch away. “I’m not leaving her!”
“Jared.” Evie is openly crying now. “Please.” She palms my face in her hands. Stretching up on her toes, she kisses me softly. “Think of our son. Think of Wolf.”
My vision blurs on her beautiful face. “Don’t ask me to leave you,” I beg quietly.
Evie smiles through her tears. “It’s going to be okay.”
I shake my head. “Remember when Jimmy shot you and I left you at the hospital, thinking you were better off without me?”
She nods.
“That was the dumbest thing I ever did in my entire life and when I got home, and got that ring on your finger, I promised myself I’d never leave you again, and I haven’t. I’m not doing it now.”
Mitch grabs my arm. Before I can jerk free, Travis grabs the other.
Evie’s palms slide free and she takes a step back, breaking my heart. Her chin lifts and her expression turns stoic. “Go.”
“No!” My brothers drag me backwards, their hold too strong. I can’t break free. Panic breaks my chest wide open. “No! Goddamn you, no!”
9
EVIE
The further they all move back, the more terrified I become. I’ve heard the term blast radius before, and I know how to apply logic. The bigger the bomb, the bigger the impact. Now I’m not the best when it comes to measuring distance, but a long fucking way away is how I’d describe where my family now stands, and that doesn’t bode well for me.
I swallow an unsteady breath, wondering how I ended up in this situation. Yesterday morning I was just your everyday troubled wife, running out the door for a surf and some last-minute present shopping with my best friend. Today I’m stuck out in the bush, strapped in explosives while facing off against the bravest team NSW Police has to offer, and instead of my husband giving me a loving Christmas kiss good morning, he’s standing back the aforementioned distance and watching me as if he can will me to stay alive by the power of his eyeballs alone. Mitch and Travis appear ready to leap in and grab him if he so much as moves a muscle in my direction. My gaze shifts to Mac. Being on the sidelines is her worst nightmare. Mine is clowns in a gutter drain, but the situation I’m standing in right now runs a pretty close second. She isn’t even watching me. She’s aiming narrowed eyes on the bomb technician headed in my direction, assessing the man as if my life depends on his explosives expertise, which scarily enough, it does.
I take another unsteady breath and drag my gaze from all of them, giving my attention to the man coming towards me. He’s kitted out in a heavy blast suit that makes him look better suited for a walk on the moon rather than a traipse through the outer scrubland of Sydney.
“You okay?” he asks as he reaches me, his voice deep and calm.
“Peachy,” I squeak out, studying his face through the clear panel that covers it. He’s handsome. His dark hair is long enough to curl against his forehead, but not long enough to get in his gold-flecked hazel eyes. Jesus, he looks like Henry Cavill. He would fit right in with the Badass Brigade, or as Mr January on the annual Bomb Technician Fund-Raising Calendar, which is probably not a thing, but if it was, I’d buy it.
Mr January says something that makes me want to kiss his face off. “I’m here to get you out of this vest.”
“That would great.” Understatement of the year.
He introduces himself. “I’m Moses. Moses O’Reilly.”
Of course he is, what with his biblical namesake parting the Red Sea and leading the Israelites from Egypt. This man has dedicated his life to saving others. He walks towards danger, defuses bomb-covered citizens, and looks like a total badass while doing it, even covered head to toe in a moon suit.
Me? I’m a singer. I sing songs for a living and spend my money on frivolous crap.
Why haven’t I done more with my life? Is this what they call an existential crisis?
A strange little hiccup escapes my throat and I get this panicked urge to run away, which is ridiculous because where would I go?
Moses cocks his head from inside his suit and I realise he’s actually holding out a h
and as he introduces himself. It’s a normal, everyday gesture inside of an extraordinarily terrifying situation. An attempt to pull me from my sudden hysteria. I take his glove-covered hand in mine. He doesn’t shake it. He gives it a firm squeeze. My lungs deflate in a shaky sigh. “Evie.”
“I know,” he quips.
“You do?”
“Evie Valentine, lead singer of Jamieson, right?”
“You like our music?”
“Who doesn’t?” He grins then, and it’s a little boyish.
The abrupt transformation sets off a nervous flurry in my stomach. “This isn’t your first day on the job, is it?”
He looks me in the eye, his expression turning serious enough to reflect the gravity of the situation we’re in right now. “I did three tours of Afghanistan, Evie. It doesn’t get any more experienced than me.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Thank you for your service sounds woefully inadequate. My voice comes out low and soft, as reassured by his words as anyone could be while decorated in TNT. “Then I’m lucky to have you with me today.”
His eyes drop to my vest, studying it carefully. “Luck is not a word I’d use to describe any part of the day you’re having.”
“True. But I’m still alive so far. That can only be a good thing. Just …” I feel a little tug as he examines the device and my voice cracks, “… try and keep me that way, okay?”
His hazel eyes lift to mine, and suddenly it feels like we’re inside the eye of a storm. There’s a sense of hyperawareness where everyone and everything around us turns quiet and still. Not even the birds make a sound. It’s just him, me, and my imminent death. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Tears clog my throat.
“Okay?”
I swallow them down and nod.
It’s when Moses turns his attention back to the device strapped around me that I hear Coby yell my name. “Evie!”
My gaze shoots over the bomb technician’s shoulder. My brother is here, alongside Henry and Casey. The latter has his hand on my brother’s shoulder, keeping him in place.
Coby swipes a hand across his face as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Someone must have told him where I was and what was going down, and while I’m glad he’s here, I also wish he wasn’t. If this doesn’t go well, he won’t ever come back from it. Jared has to. He has Wolf to think about, and a large extended family. My brother has lived his whole life looking after me. He hasn’t allowed himself anything else.
I force a smile and give him a thumbs up, hiding the sharp pang inside my heart. “I’m okay,” I mouth, knowing that if I come out of this unscathed, my brother’s profile is going up on a dating app. I don’t care if I have to drag him kicking and screaming through the process. Hell, he doesn’t even have to know. I can just pretend to be him until I lock in a date or two, or three. Whatever works. He needs taking care of and as his little sister, it’s my right to make that happen.
With that thought in mind, my gaze cuts to Henry, my other best friend. He stands on the other side of Coby and next to Mac, his white-blond hair tousled and face pale. He looks ready to vomit. Mac takes his hand, squeezing it while they watch.
Moses glances up at me before going back to the vest. “I’m going to need your autograph when we’re done here, Evie.”
A hysterical huff comes out of me. “Only if I can get yours.”
He chuckles, that’s how freaking calm he is. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
“Dude. You get me out of this, you’ve got backstage passes for life. I’ll even name my next kid after you.”
I feel another tug as Moses works. “What if it’s a girl?”
“Then she’ll wear it proudly knowing she’s named after the man who saved her life.”
His head lifts, frozen for a moment as he takes in the meaning of my words. “You’re pregnant?”
My lips press together as I give him a nod.
“Jesus.” He exhales. “You’re … that’s … Congratulations.” Moses shakes his head and tries again, going back to the device as he speaks. “I’m guess I’m here to get you both out of this damn thing then, huh?”
“That would be super awesome.”
A hard jerk on the vest makes me flinch and a muttered curse escapes the man. I curl shaky hands into fists and close my eyes, tilting my head to the sun as I try to block out what he’s doing.
I feel him shift around behind me, leaves crunching beneath his heavily booted feet. His hands move over my shoulders, his fingers grasping the undersides of the vest. I feel it skim down my arms.
“I’ll be expecting those backstage passes sooner rather than later,” Moses tells me as a sudden weight lifts off me.
My eyes fly open.
The vest is gone.
Jared starts running. Relief hits so hard the image of him blurs in front of me.
My legs are already giving out when I’m grabbed and lifted until I’m looking down at my husband. Jared holds one arm tight around my waist, crushing me to his chest. The other grabs the back of my head, curling into my hair as he pulls my face down close and mashes his lips against mine for a single, breathtaking kiss before he draws back, pressing our foreheads together.
Tears leak freely down my face, mixing with the blood and dirt I know is there. I don’t care that I’m a mess. He doesn’t either because he can’t seem to let me go. He only squeezes tighter and shudders against me. “Evie. God.” He closes his eyes.
“Jared.” I want to reassure him I’m okay, but I can’t. I promised myself I would be honest about how I feel from here on out, even if it’s hard, and right now I feel like a broken piece of glass and he’s the only one holding the shattered pieces together. “Don’t let go.”
His eyes open on mine. “I won’t.”
Mac bursts our little two-person bubble. “You’re going to have to let her go. We need a turn at hugging her too.”
Jared lowers me to the ground with reluctance. His hold loosens and my head starts to spin. The earth tilts like I just wobbled my way off the Gravitron ride at the local show. “Whoa.”
“Move, Mac.”
He nudges his sister away and pulls me in tight again, his green eyes searching my face. “Get the paramedics,” he tells the huddle of family around us.
Coby pushes his way in. “We already have an ambulance on standby. They’re making their way over.” His eyes search my face too. His brows are pinched in the middle as he takes my chin in his hand with a gentle, protective gesture. He turns my face towards him. “You okay, sweetheart? Where does it hurt most?”
“It doesn’t. I’m a bit banged up is all. I just feel …” My teeth begin to chatter. In fact, my whole body starts trembling violently, “… a bit woozy.”
“She’s crashing,” Mitch adds from the other side of Jared, eyeing me with concern.
“Of course she is,” Mac pipes in from somewhere and I realise she’s now at my back when her hands come to rest gently on my shoulders. “She was almost blown up. And she can’t breathe with you all in her damn face like that.”
Three collective sets of frowns shoot in her direction.
I ignore them all and snuggle further into the comfort of Jared’s arms, shivering when he presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “She can breathe just fine.”
An odd clanking noise interrupts the bickering. It only takes a second to realise it’s coming from inside the concrete drain behind me. A second after that, I’m pushed behind a veritable wall of massive bodies to the metallic clicking sound of guns being drawn. The paramedics halt their trek towards us.
“What the hell?” I mumble before another set of arms surround me. I tilt my head, looking up into eyes the colour of Fijian waters. “Henry.”
“Chook.” He huffs, and I know the sound barely scratches the surface of how he must be feeling right now. “What mess did you get yourself into this time?”
“A pretty big one by the looks of things.”
The warmth of his palm presses against my lower belly. “How are you feeling?”
My eyes widen. “You know?”
His face crinkles into a smile. “You stole my entire stash of Reese’s peanut butter cups.”
I don’t hesitate in throwing my friend under the bus. “That was Mac.”
“I saw you.”
“Well … so what?”
His expression turns smug. “You don’t like peanut butter,” he points out.
My eyes narrow. “You think you know me.”
“I do.”
“You can’t tell Jared,” I hiss quietly. “He doesn’t know yet. I want to be the one to tell him. It’s his Christmas gift, and considering my little shopping trip got hijacked, it’s the only gift I’ve got to give him.”
He mimics the action of zipping his lips.
Satisfied with that, I turn back to the wall and peer over Jared’s shoulder. “You know it’s probably just a rat.”
I’m collectively shushed like an errant child.
We all hear another clanking sound before a female voice calls out from inside the tunnel. “I’m unarmed!”
Air leaves my lungs in a rush. I know that voice.
“Henry, get her out of here.”
“Wait!” I call out before he can drag me away. I push my way in between Jared and Coby, the former and the latter both making a grab for me. “Angel?”
She appears into the sunlight, bloodied and staggering under the weight of Renny. Holding his arm around her shoulders, she’s half-dragging, half-pulling him toward the storm drain exit.
“Renny!” I rush forward and slingshot backwards into Jared.
“Do not move,” he booms, taking in Angel from the top of her head down to the Viper tattoo around her waist and hip. There it stays, where his eyes narrow.
“For fuck’s sake, I’m unarmed.” She adjusts her burden and when her eyes take in the lifeless Grudge they seem resigned. “Renny needs help.”
“Lower your guns,” I hiss, and call out for the paramedics.
They rush forward when the weapons are tucked away. Lowering a back board, they relieve Angel of her burden and immediately start on his vitals. Only when she knows he’s being taken care of does she start backing away in the direction she came from.
Give Me War Page 11
