Epilogue 1: Resa

Two Weeks Later

I t's the weekly Lucas Security meeting, and Blaine is late.

It's a concern. Though not for Garrison, who doesn't seem the least bit worried.

We all went with him to his annual checkup last week, and he's been quieter than usual ever since. He seemed to be getting better with touch, and we spend most nights together in my nest. But maybe it's too much touch. Or too soon. Or his annual checkup opened up old wounds that have set him back.

When Sadie suggested a therapist she thinks would be a good fit for me, I didn't immediately run from the room or shut the conversation down. I said I would meet her, just for a bit, and we'd go from there. Mostly because I've finally accepted that my nightmares aren't going to disappear the longer I ignore them.

I told Blaine. Not about what I'd been through, but that I was thinking about seeing a therapist and he said he would think about it too.

What if it was me? What if I'm to blame for this?

"Blaine is never late." Vaughn gives me a brief kiss and moves me off his lap and onto the chair beside Garrison. "I should?—"

"He'll be here," Garrison says. "Sit."

I narrow my eyes at Garrison. "You know something."

Garrison kisses me softly. As he clasps my right hip, his thumb gently strokes my increasingly rounded belly. "I might have spoken with him about something last night."

I lean into his touch, wishing it was skin to skin. "Last night, you were?—"

"Inside you," he gently interrupts, his voice husky and eyes sparking with heat. "And there is no other place I would ever want to be. The conversation came after."

Out of the corner of my eye, Vaughn is fanning himself.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"The passion." He fans himself even harder, blond hair flying. "It's too much to handle. Must… cool… myself—" Laughing, he dodges Garrison's head slap.

I'm laughing too, which is why I miss Blaine slip into the room.

I don't notice him until he's standing in front of the whiteboard, clearing his throat.

Our laughter dies down.

Blaine is not wearing a turtleneck.

He places a file on the table. "Since we're light on cases, and we've failed to find Dexter Pieter— again —I told Everleigh we would prioritize the search for her sister."

As pissed as I was about the head of the Council doing another disappearing act, as well as ignoring my text messages and calls, I don't care about him right now.

Blaine is wearing a T-shirt. Just your run of the mill, boring gray short sleeve T-shirt with a V-neck and I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful man in my life.

I want to tell him he looks good, but I also don't want to draw attention to his scars if he's waiting for one of us to comment on them.

Now, I understand why Garrison said Roman, Frost, and Lex wouldn't be at this meeting. It would just be us. And I think I know what they must have spoken about last night after I made love with Garrison and briefly woke as he was settling me in Vaughn's arms where I fell asleep.

This.

I dart a rapid glance at Vaughn and Garrison. We all have big, fat stupid grins on our faces.

"You all look deranged. Stop that," Blaine says severely.

But I swear he's smiling too as he turns to the whiteboard. Garrison drapes his arm around the back of my chair, fingers stroking my bare arm as Blaine writes a name in big letters on the whiteboard.

This is another big step.

Blaine taking on a case that isn't a boring research one.

Della Jackson.

Everleigh's sister.

I recall the petite red-headed woman who hugged Everleigh at the Pack Ashe mansion before she literally ran out of the room. Everleigh thought her sister had gotten mixed up in something bad, potentially even dangerous. If Della is now missing, then it looks like she was right to be concerned.

"What do you have so far?" Garrison nods at the thin file on the table.

Blaine flips through it. "I'm still gathering info, so not much. I spoke to Everleigh this morning, which is why I was late. Della has stopped answering her cell phone, which, obviously, isn't a good sign."

None of us speaks for several seconds.

"And you're sure this is the case you want to take on?" Vaughn props his feet on the edge of the table and leans back, crossing his arms. His body language is relaxed, but his expression is concerned.

Blaine nods firmly. "This is what we do. Everleigh has given us everything she has on Della, and we're going to find her."

I glance at Garrison and Vaughn.

Our case load is light, so we can all throw ourselves into this case.

"So, where do we start?" I ask, as if I know the first thing about cracking a case. But I love what I do and who I get to do it with, so I'm getting there.

"We start at the last place she was seen," Garrison says.

"And that place was?" Vaughn asks Blaine.

Blaine refers to his file. "According to Everleigh's credit card statement, Della was spending two thousand dollars in a fragrance store."

We all stare at him.

"Everleigh hinted Della might be into something worse than drugs, but perfume ?" I frown. "Are you sure?"

Blaine nudges his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I'd say finding out why would be a good start to finding her. Wouldn't you?"