For the next five days, Duncan and I made love each night, then he’d leave by seven thirty in the morning once my brother arrived at our house. Finn was my compromise after our first major argument. It all started when Duncan, being the stubborn, alpha male he was, had the audacity to suggest I wasn’t “allowed” to stay alone. While I understood his need to protect, he had to understand I wasn’t a doormat. Fortunately, he was a quick learner. I didn’t have to follow through with my threat of sleeping in the bed with Reagan.
For security reasons, we kept the twins home from school also. It was easier, and involved less manpower, to guard the three of us at the same location. That’s where Finn came in. Both he and Joel spent the day with me while Duncan and his team planned the takedown of his old handler.
My stomach rolled every time I thought about their upcoming mission. The idea that Duncan or someone we knew and loved could be injured made me twitchy. I hated everything about it, but it had nothing to do with my feelings. It was about serving justice to a man who thought he was untouchable. We wouldn’t be in limbo much longer. If everything went according to the plan, Niall would be sitting behind bars in less than twenty-four hours. That’s probably why my nerves were more of a mess than usual.
“What’s all this?”
Finn strolled into the kitchen. He’d given me the day off, but he had back-to-back-to-back video conferences that took up most of the morning.
“I’m baking.”
“No shit. But who the feck are you baking for? The entire state of West Virginia?”
“Ha, ha. It’s not that much,” I lied to him and myself.
Baking was a way to relieve stress. Judging by themassive number of desserts, my stress to ingredient ratio was larger than I realized. Spread out across the counter were the makings of two apple pies, five dozen peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, a loaf of cinnamon bread, and a tray of banana nut muffins.
Crap. Who was going to eat all of this?
“Sloanie,” he sighed. “Cut the shit and tell your big brother what’s bothering you.”
“Aren’t you scared, Finn? Your fiancée could get hurt or worse.”
“I figured that’s what this was all about.” He leaned with his elbows against the counter, crossing his feet in front of him. “Let me tell you a little something about Way. She’s a genuine bad arse. Do I worry? Absolutely, I’d be a fool not to. But I trust in her ability to do her job. You have to do the same with Duncan.”
“Idotrust him.”
“Then trustinthem all to stay safe. You’ve never seen the team in action, but I have. After the bombing, they jumped into the fray, no hesitation, no second-guessing. Hell, they barely even had to communicate. It was like they knew what the other was thinking.”
“Can we talk about something else? Tomorrow is going to be hard enough.”
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
The oven beeped, letting me know it was pre-heated. I placed both pies on the top rack and set the timer. Finn followed me out of the kitchen into the living room where I’d left a laundry basket full of clean clothes. Besides baking enough treats for an army, I was doing housework to keep my mind busy. I reached into the basket, pulling out a towel to fold.
“How did your meetings go?”
“The first two were boring.”
“And the third?”
“Interesting, if not a little scary.”
“What do you mean?”
I sat the finished towel on the coffee table, then grabbed the next item off the top, Reagan’s favorite princess pajamas. She had three pairs because she refused to wear anything else.
“Noah and Lanie actually asked for the meeting.”
“Really? Who was it with?”
“Zakhar Vlaschenko––Zak he said to call him.”
“Never heard of him.”
“Unless you’ve had dealings with the Russian Bratva, you wouldn’t have.”
My head snapped to his. The what? There was no way I’d heard him correctly. The only thing I knew about the Russian Bratva was what I read in fiction books. They were the Russian version of the mafia, only bigger and deadlier.