by Anya Nowlan
Tex smirked, shrugging his shoulders. “And you say I’m high-strung,” he noted, going back to his fiddling.
He must have a truck full of timers and triggers by now, Thatch thought darkly, glancing at his brother. Exactly what got us into this shit.
Not getting to do anything twisted him up. The past two years had been a damn headache to begin with. Ever since Blake got in touch, Thatch felt himself getting more and more agitated with the world. It wasn’t made any better by the fact that he couldn’t share his problem with Tex, since it would only escalate the issue. So there he was, getting more agitated, on edge, and aggressive by the day and now The Firm wasn’t even putting his foul mood into use? Fucking fantastic.
Of course, truth be told, there was one thing that could cool down the unusually hot-headed Thatch. Every now and then, and by that he meant almost on a daily basis, his thoughts would drift to that night he’d had with Madeline and Tex back in Arizona and his stomach would knot up and his throat would go dry. He was an Alpha shifter; it didn’t take too much to realize what had happened that night. And now he couldn’t believe that they’d let her get away.
It had almost become a game, ignoring that topic with Tex. Thatch could read his brother like an open book, and whenever they saw someone on the street who bore the slightest similarity to her, Tex would be twisting himself into a pretzel, making sure it wasn’t Madeline. And for all his joshing on the topic, Thatch was entirely certain that neither he nor Tex had been with another woman since then.
They’d found their mate. And they’d let her go. He couldn’t believe what fucking morons they were.
When they’d said their goodbyes and the team carted her into the big, black, nondescript SUV, Thatch’s stomach had dropped and he was pretty sure his heart had been beating slower ever since. He knew now that he should have gone with her, whatever it took. And he had even tried to find out her new identity in a moment of weakness a few months back, but no luck.
If The Firm decided that something shouldn’t be known or someone shouldn’t be found, they damn well kept it like that. Their commanding officer, Colonel Hemingway, a retired SEAL like the rest of them, had been very clear on what would happen if Thatch tried to find her on his own. No more job, no more team, no more anything. Thatch figured that he could take it, but he couldn’t make that decision for both himself and Tex. And he knew that if he brought Madeline up, it would open a can of worms neither one of them were prepared to deal with.
She’s safer without us, Thatch told himself, watching the news with absolute disinterest.
There was some sort of a commotion going on in the middle of town, a suspected explosion that got Tex picking up his project and walking into the living room to watch it. Thatch, however, couldn’t have cared less. The happy, warm, and fuzzy thoughts he usually had about Madeline, remembering her sweet lips and that body that drove him crazy, were replaced by a nagging anger at himself for fucking up the most important thing in his and Tex’s life.
Alpha twin shifters were nothing without their mate. And Thatch’s and Tex’s was nowhere to be found, kept from them by both fate and their personal failings. If that didn’t kill what little could have been left of Thatch’s mood after getting a text from his favorite blackmailer, Thatch didn’t know what could.
“The hell’s going on?” Dutch asked, propping his head up with one hand and closing his book.
“Some sort of bullshit,” Thatch commented dryly, getting another questioning look from Tex and shaking his head at it.
Rein it in, man. You’re supposed to be the calm and calculated one, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath and letting the tension flow out of him.
He was about to peel himself out of the chair and go ask Grant if he could have a go at the heavy bag, or if the medic wanted to spar, when something caught his eye on the screen. Thatch frowned, leaning in closer, and a second later he felt his heart skip a beat.
“Holy shit,” Tex muttered next to him, dropping the project he was holding.
“It can’t fucking be,” Thatch said, standing up and walking closer to the flatscreen, crouching down in front of it.
“What?” Dutch asked again, curiosity in his voice.
There, standing at the sidelines of the presumed bombing site, trying to make her way through the crowd with a baby stroller, was Madeline. Thatch could only vaguely tell when it was that Tex came to stand next to him, the both of them staring in stunned silence as the camera panned over the crowd and caught a lick of Madeline’s flaming red hair and then her peeking over her shoulder, clearly trying to get as far as she could from both the cameras and the street with the commotion.
“It is,” Tex finally replied, his voice sounding giddy. “It’s her. We gotta go get her!”
“No, we can’t,” Thatch spoke, rationality galloping way ahead of his emotions for a hot second.
He could feel the burning look he was getting from Tex. And that’s when his heart caught up with his head.
“You’re right. We have to get her. If we recognized her, odds are those fuckers from the train will as well,” Thatch barked, jumping up and leaping into action.
Tex was halfway through the door, grabbing his go-bag on the way by the time Thatch had realized the urgency of the matter. Of course they had to go get her. The Firm wouldn’t care what the hell happened to her at this point—they’d gone above and beyond by giving her a new identity to begin with. But if something happened to Madeline, Thatch could never live with himself. And then, of course, there was the baby stroller. His mind didn’t even bend around the implications of that.
“The hell are you two going? Should I come?” Dutch called after them, receiving a firm “Fuck no!” from both Thatch and Tex.
They were speeding down the stairs almost in unison, both holding onto their lightly packed bags filled with essentials.
This can’t be a coincidence that we’re here, Thatch thought feverishly. What the hell’s going on?
He was dialing Connor’s number on his cell by the time they got in the matte gray SUV, Tex taking the wheel. They had no way of knowing if they could even find Madeline in town, or if they could get close enough to it with the commotion, but Thatch knew for a fact that he couldn’t let her slip away again. The way Tex was gunning it, breaking every traffic law known to the fine state of Illinois, suggested that Thatch wasn’t the only one with those exact feelings.
For now, Thatch only knew that they needed to find her and keep her safe. Anything else was bound to be figured out when he could get rid of that painful stab in his gut telling him that things were way more screwed up than they should have been.
We’re coming for you, Madeline. Hold on, baby.
CHAPTER NINE
Madeline
“Adley, are you okay? I know that stuff was scary, but calm down, girl! We’ll be fine,” Fiona said, throwing glances at Madeline.
“Just get us home as fast as you can, Fiona, please,” Madeline replied, twisting herself in her seat to check on her boys as well as peek out the back window.
Any minute now, she was expecting to see some hulking black SUV, or a damn attack helicopter appear behind the horizon, zooming in with only one mission—to kill her and her kids. It sounded ridiculous when she tried to put it into words, it really did, and so she didn’t attempt it again. But something in her heart told her that she had to get out of Chicago as fast as possible.
There were cameras there. What if I got caught on one of them? What if they already know where I am? I can’t let anything happen to Raze and Rhodes… I have to protect them.
She was chewing on her lower lip, gnashing her teeth into the soft flesh so hard she was sure she’d draw blood soon. Her hands felt clammy and she had goose bumps covering her skin. In a lot of ways, she was more terrified now than she had ever been on the train. There, everything was happening in the moment, all the possible outcomes laid out for her neatly in one row. Life or death, no other choices. Now? Now she didn�
��t know what to expect.
“Adley, honestly. You can’t let a few psychos ruin your day. I heard no one even got hurt! I know it was stressful getting out of town, but you’re fine! The kids are fine! Everything’s okay,” Fiona said, trying to calm her down.
Madeline tossed a look at Fiona and nodded mutely, trying her damndest to force herself to be calm.
You can’t panic. Whatever you do, don’t panic, she told herself, taking deep breaths and slumping against the soft passenger seat.
“I’m sorry. I guess after becoming a mother, I take all of those threats so much more seriously,” she admitted.
There was more than a little truth to it, but obviously it wasn’t simply that she feared unstable people for plain, rational reasons. Though she’d felt safe, even normal for a while now, there was still that nagging feeling at the back of her head that someone could be watching her, or at least waiting for her to show up somewhere.
Honestly, she wanted to say that she couldn’t remember the faces of the men she had seen on the train, but she could. They were etched in her memories. As long as they weren’t brought in by the law, she knew she could never truly feel safe.
The drive back to the suburbs wasn’t too long, though it felt like it took forever. The road seemed twice as long. When they pulled up in front of Madeline’s little house, she was out of the car before it even properly stopped. Working with frantic speed, she took out the stroller and rolled it in front of the house, and then went for the babies, letting Fiona help her. Fiona carried Raze into the house and Madeline could practically hear the worried thoughts running through her friend’s head as Madeline attacked the door with her keys, twisting them into the lock.
“I’m not sure I should leave you like this, hon. Will you be okay?” Fiona asked.
“I’ll be fine, honest. I need a cup of tea and to put the boys in their cribs and maybe a long, relaxing bath,” Madeline lied, smiling over her shoulder.
They walked in and put the sleeping twins on the couch on their backs and Madeline showed Fiona out, stiffly hugging her at the door.
“I promise I’ll be okay, Fiona. Don’t worry about me. The explosion was so… unexpected, you know? Nothing to worry about now, though. We’re home and safe and everything’s fine!”
The smile felt so damn fake on her lips, but Fiona seemed to take some solace in it.
“Call me, okay? Let’s get some wine and forget all about the crazies of the world!”
“It’s a date!” Madeline said, already closing the door.
As soon as she heard Fiona’s footsteps retreat, she burst into action. Her heart was still beating out of her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She and Fiona had been maybe fifty yards from the explosion site, a little store on the path they chose to stroll with the kids. The horrific boom had brought everything back in spades. The fear, the worry, the panic Madeline had felt on that train. But this time, it had all been amplified by the cold, gripping dread of thinking that something could happen to her boys.
When she’d recovered from the initial shock, another realization hit as soon as she saw the TV cameras already clamoring on the scene and the dozens of cell phones taking videos of the smoking wreckage of the store. She’d been told in no few details by The Firm that whatever she did, she had to remain out of sight and out of mind, for her own good. And then she had gotten stuck on the local news coverage because she couldn’t get through the crowds with two strollers for two sets of twins!
I knew I shouldn’t have gone into town! she chided herself, running into her room and grabbing a bag from the closet.
She started piling essentials into it, along with her few prized possessions and her new identity information. From there, she moved into the nursery and packed the baby bag and threw anything that didn’t fit into her own shoulder bag. Madeline worked methodically, but quickly, the two traits ingrained in her by years of academia. By the time she made it back into the living room, her heart rate had gone down a little bit and she was thinking more clearly.
I need to get a cab. We’ll go to the airport and fly… anywhere. Anywhere but here, she thought, securing the bags over her shoulders so she could call a cab.
As she was dialing the number, she heard a heavy, frantic knock on the door. Madeline stopped, her hand hovering over the numbers. Another knock. Panic gripped her throat, threatening to suffocate her.
Oh no, she thought, her stomach dropping.
Then, she saw the door handle being pushed down and she realized she hadn’t locked the door. Madeline sprinted toward the front door, trying to push it closed and lock it before whoever it was on the other side could get through, but she was too late. She skidded to a halt right in front of Tex, who stepped in with a handgun drawn, his intense green and golden eyes gleaming with tension.
“Are you alone?” he asked quickly, waving Thatch in.
Thatch closed the door behind himself smoothly, almost soundlessly, and put away his gun.
“She’s alone, Tex. Put that away,” he said calmly.
Madeline couldn’t believe her eyes. Here they were, both of them, her twin lovers that she’d never expected to see again. The fathers of her children. The only men who had ever made her heart beat a million miles a minute and her head spin. For a second, she could feel her vision getting fuzzier at the edges and she propped herself up with a hand against the wall, still staring at them, dismayed.
“W-what are you doing here?” she finally asked, managing to get a few words out that weren’t only broken syllables.
“Oh, you know. We were in the neighborhood, figured we’d drop by,” Tex said with his trademark wolfish grin, giving her a wink. “Aren’t you glad to see us?” he asked, putting his gun in the holster on his hip and pulling her into a tight bear hug just as suddenly.
Madeline gasped, her eyes wide as saucers, meeting Thatch’s gaze over Tex’s shoulder as her body was crushed against his. He felt so warm, so safe, and despite the growing uncertainty in her mind, in that moment she felt completely at ease. She felt a sudden and painful sense of loss when Tex let go of her and she smiled awkwardly as Thatch chuckled, shaking his head.
“We should stop meeting like this, Miss Madeline,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the top of it gently, making butterflies flutter in Madeline’s stomach. “I bet there are other ways to see one another other than explosion-driven coincidences.”
“So that’s why you’re here, the explosion?” she asked as Thatch let go of her hand.
She was desperate to keep her head in the game, to clear it from the happy, cooing fluffiness that wanted to invade it because she was in the company of Tex and Thatch.
“Yeah. We saw you on the news. Figured we weren’t going to be the only ones. You’ve got your stuff packed already? Clever girl,” Tex said with an appreciative nod, taking one of the bags off of Madeline’s shoulders before she could say a thing about it.
“I can handle that,” she protested softly, hanging onto the baby bag.
“Where were you going?” Thatch asked, walking past her and toward the living room.
“I wasn’t sure yet,” she yelped, trying to get ahead of him and stop him before he got within sight of the couch and the sleeping boys, but it was too late.
Thatch stopped dead in his tracks at the door, waving Tex over. Madeline was standing between them and the couch, not sure what she was supposed to do now, or how she was going to act. She didn’t want them to find out about the boys like that. Well, she’d assumed they would never find out, but definitely not in a situation where there was probable danger lurking behind every corner.
The pause that hung in the air seemed eternal, like Madeline had time to grow old and die ten times over during it.
“We need to get them out of here,” Thatch said finally, flicking a searching look at Madeline.
She could hardly interpret it. Was it happiness? Worry? Annoyance? Madeline bit her lip again and nodded, carefully picking up Raze as Thatch to
ok Rhone. Rhone stirred in Thatch’s arms, yawning for a moment before nuzzling his little face against Thatch’s chest. The big, burly shifter commando looked positively smitten with the baby. Madeline wanted nothing more than to distill the moment into a mental image—the first time a father holds his son.
Tex was looking at his brother in wonder, a small smile on his lips.
“Dammit, man, we need to go before we both break down and start cuddling the babies!” he said, but the look in his eyes told Madeline that it was exactly what he would have preferred to be doing.
Thatch snapped out of it and nodded curtly, reaching a hand out to Madeline as she kept Raze on her hip. She took it and let him lead her out of the house, with Tex checking the door first and slipping out ahead of them, though he kept throwing back glances. They practically ran across the yard toward the big SUV parked in front and Tex helped Madeline get in and buckle down with both babies in her lap and the bags on the floor by her feet. Her world was spinning by the time they’d slammed the doors shut and taken off like a bullet.
What the hell is going on? she asked herself, desperate to twist her head around the direction this day was taking.
First, she’d gone out on a lovely little walk with a friend, and she’d managed to get herself stuck right in the middle of an explosion in downtown Chicago. Then, she’d gotten all packed up to run off to parts unknown, and her babydaddies had showed up at her door, guns drawn, ready to go to war for her. How much weirder could her day get? And could someone give her a knife to cut through the tension in the car?! The energy in the SUV was electric, tense, and expectant.
Madeline was about to say something, anything really, when Tex suddenly jerked the car to the side and Thatch threw out a string of curses so damn colorful that Madeline was thankful that neither Raze nor Rhone had developed that far into language comprehension to understand any of it.
“What’s happening?” Madeline asked, but she didn’t need the answer. The moment the first gunshot sounded and the back window gave a dull thud on impact, not breaking, she knew exactly what was going on.
