Nauseous, I sank onto the nearest couch, burying my face in my hands, wishing I could tell her all over again that I’d known for weeks and weeks that it was Locke who’d been the target of the road attacks. Thathe’dbeen at risk this whole fucking time, not her, and I’d taken them both to bed every night without telling them a goddamn thing.
Not because I wanted to hurt her again, but because I needed her explosive reaction to keep me awake, and I didn’t know what I was going to do when her anger burned out and she became who she always was in a crisis like this.
The matriarch.
The motherfucking queen.
I’m so tired.
Someone else came into the bar. Giant boots appeared next to mine as I slowly dropped my hands.
Rubi crouched in front of me, mug in one hand, plate in the other. He opened his big fat mouth but changed his mind at the last second and thrust his wares at me instead.
I ignored them. “What were you going to say?”
“Me?” Rubi shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just the friendly matron.”
He waved the plate again.
I took the black coffee and pushed the breakfast away. “I can’t eat that. I’ll puke.”
“That’s why you need it. Come on, Nashie. You’re gonna break if you don’t take care of yourself. Then you’re no good to anyone.”
I was already no good to anyone, and I was already fucking broken.
The coffee cup burned my hand. Grounding myself in the sting, I looked out the window, watching Folk, Embry, and Cam saddle up to take over the search.
Alexei wasn’t with them. Our sharpest eyes and he wasn’t fucking here.
I rose.
Rubi pushed me back down. “The mad accountant left before you got back. You know he doesn’t ride out in daylight.”
I did know that, but sometimes I forgot that Alexei wasn’t as visible to the rest of the world as he was to me. “Go hassle Saint then. He won’t sleep if the others are out.”
“Don’t worry about Saint.”
I wasn’t. Not really. Saint wasn’t going to hit the sack and snatch himself eight hours, but for Cam’s sake, he’d rest. Eat. Get his ducks in a row to head out again tonight while mine were having a fucking mutiny.
My skull throbbed with godawful noise, pain that wasn’t literal enough to be mine. Was it Locke’s? Was he hurt so bad I could fuckingfeelit?
“Oi.” Rubi shook me. “Keep your head in the game. You can fall apart when we find him.”
“What if we don’t find him?”
“Not happening. Folk’s a pro, remember? Hostage rescue all over his CV and shit.”
Folk wasn’t speaking to me, save out of operational necessity. Mad as hell that we hadn’t told him Locke was at risk, he wasn’t speaking to anyone except Decoy, and it made me wonder how Locke was going to feel when he found out.
Ifhe found out, and that thought made me long for his rage. For his big, tatted fist to collide with my face. Anything that meant he was alive and back here with us.
“I miss him.”
Not Folk.
Locke.
I missed him so much I felt physically sick—I felt faint—and I rocked forward, dropping my head low, fighting for equilibrium when I should’ve been out there fighting forhim.