Rubi snorted. “You always know. You’re the vault.”
I had no response that wasn’t a lie. I found my vape and busied myself with that.
Rubi huffed, but the lecture about doubling my nicotine intake with fake smoking never came. “You need me out there with you later?”
“Out where?”
“Don’t be an obtuse motherfucker. You know what I mean.”
I did, and I thought about it for less than a second. Rubi had his fair share of sins to confess to his maker, but he didn’t kill people—he didn’t want to, and I knew if he got hold of Priest before I did, he’d do something he couldn’t live with. “I need you here, taking care of everything else. We have who we need on the road.”
“Even with the elders having their drama?”
I let my gaze drift to the chapel where Cam remained, lights off, blinds drawn, stewing in his stubborn temper while Alexei did whatever he did when he lost his shit, and Saint was caught between them. He was right—we needed a better plan for the feds thanno. And Alexei was right about what would happen if our answer, whoever gave it, wasyes. That meant the solution lay somewhere in the middle, but I wasn’t the man to find it, and I trusted Cam with my life—withLocke’slife—not to let this distract us from what mattered most.
I don’t care about the fucking feds.
And goddamn, I needed my woman. I needed to bury myself in how much I loved her. I needed tofeelher instead of the war kicking the shit out of my heart.
Not so numb now, are you?
No. And I didn’t want to be. I missed Locke. I was terrified for him, and hiding from how much that hurt was killing me.
I left Rubi to handle Cam and retreated to the residence, blocking out the abandoned vodka bottle on the bar and blowing up the stairs.
Embry was asleep in his old room, half hanging off his bed, door open, like it always was if he slept alone. Before Locke, I’d never thought too hard about why.
Now, it was a struggle not to think about it. Not to dissect every nuance of the good father and paint a picture that made me want to rip my own arms off.
Love you, Em.
I left his door alone, slipped through Locke’s, and found Orla exactly where she’d foundmemost often over the past few weeks. On his bed, at one with the ceiling and the dog who stood guard at the window.
The door closed behind me with a quiet click. Lida flicked her ears back but otherwise ignored me while I stripped the damp hoody I’d come home in and unbuckled my belt. “Get in the bed.”
Orla complied without comment, leaving her clothes on.
I ditched all mine, save a pair of faded pink Calvins I’d stolen from Rubi, and crawled in beside her.
She was wearing Locke’s T-Shirt. It didn’t smell of him anymore. Or maybe it did to her.
Regardless, I shifted it only enough that her silky skin touched mine.
Hercoldskin. “Orls, it’s freezing in here.”
She nuzzled my neck. “Heating’s on the blink.”
I shifted, already pulling back to go thump the boiler.
She wound her arms around my neck, pinning me in place with her dark gaze more than her grip. “Decoy can fix it tomorrow.”
“What if it’s?—”
“It’s not. You and Locke put a thousand detectors around it, remember? If it was trying to kill us, we’d know.”
I lay back down, unconvinced after what had happened to River but trusting the systems Locke had put in place to protect us.
That boiler’s new. Probably just needs a reset.