Chapter 34

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Athena

I have the great pleasure to be sitting in the office the next week when Peter Auclair strolls into the practice facility, thinking he's at the top of the world.

The asshole is whistling for fuck's sake.

By all intents and purposes, the FBI's backed off since my escapades at the warehouse.

The Lyons think they're in the clear.

But in reality , we've shifted our investigation to the connection between Jean-Michel's ex-wife—the woman who's reappeared from the shadows to create chaos for the grumpy silver fox and his various businesses—and the Lyons.

And it's bigger than anything we ever thought possible.

It'll take time to build the case, of course, but today…

We have the great pleasure of witnessing the arrest of one Peter Auclair…after, of course, Jean-Michel fires him for gambling on Eagles games.

The league's commissioner already knows what's going down and is prepared to issue a lifetime ban.

Fucking brilliant.

The only downside is that I have to watch it go down from my chair in the corner of the Peter's office.

Four weeks of rest.

Jesus Christ.

I know I only have myself to blame, same as I know that I'm lucky to still have my job—and to have only received a written warning—for my shenanigans at the warehouse.

I still say it's worth it.

Especially, when Connie told me that the girls have been reunited with their families, families she personally vetted and ensured were safe.

Maybe they're not perfect, and I'm definitely going to be keeping an eye on them.

Going to make sure they're safe.

When I can get out of bed, that is.

In…three more weeks.

"Tommy would have loved this," Lex murmurs from where he's propping up the wall next to me. Sandra issued him the professional courtesy because—in her words —"he saved your dumb ass by calling an ambulance ."

Not serious.

It was a very not serious bullet wound.

Why do I have to keep reminding everyone of that fact?

But even as I think that, I'm smothering my smile. I know it's bullshit, know I got lucky, know that…I was wrong before. There's another downside of today.

Yes, we've nailed Peter Auclair, and so his toxic presence won't be dragging down the Eagles organization any longer, but he wasn't the one who pulled the trigger.

He wasn't the one who killed Tommy last year.

That's still an open case I'm determined to solve. No, not just determined .

I'm going to solve it.

I exhale, feel my stitches protest, but it's getting better. A couple more days and they'll be out, and then I'll spend a few more weeks on desk duty.

Now if I can just find a way to have sex with Cam and not break the rest edict, my life will be pretty fucking perfect.

Because I have the feeling we're going to want to celebrate tonight.

I watch via the camera feed we set up as Peter whistles his way inside, jauntily swiping his badge and meandering down the hall, likely looking for someone to bully?—

For Cam.

Who's waiting just outside his office door.

We follow the feed, switching cameras until Peter spots Cam and picks up his pace, a shark in the water who's smelled blood.

I narrow my eyes, know that Cam's got this.

That he needs this.

But I still want to quietly dispose of Peter Auclair.

"Hey, Coach," I hear Cam say as Peter opens his mouth, beating the asshole to the punch and tilting his head toward the office. "Got a second?"

A second to enter the office and be arrested by federal agents.

"No," Peter snaps, affecting a toddler prepared to tantrum, clearly upset that his fun has been ruined. "I'm busy. Go away."

"Nope," Cam tells him cheerfully. "I won't." He reaches for the door handle, pushes the metal panel inward and clamps his hand onto Peter's shoulder, guiding him roughly inside. "Enjoy jail, motherfucker," he says as my coworkers surround him. "Also"—he crouches in front of Auclair, holds his gaze—"you're an asshole."

Then he's smiling as he crosses over to me and we watch as Peter is frog-marched out. When the fucker is gone, Cam touch my shoulder gently. "Good, cupcake?"

I nod, but I know that he sees I'm lying—oh, I'm positively gleeful that Peter's getting his comeuppance—but I feel the fatigue sweeping in.

Rest.

Fucking rest—I hate that I need it.

"Lex?" he says quietly and my former partner glances over at us. "Taking her home."

Lex nods. "You pull up the car, I'll walk her out, load her up."

"I'm not a package to be chucked in the back of the car," I grumble after Cam disappears down the hall and Lex walks my weak and tired ass out to the parking lot.

"I didn't say I'd chuck you in." Amusement in Lex's voice. "I'll set you carefully into the passenger's seat. Hell, I'll even throw in free buckling."

I glare at him, but it's taking most of my energy to walk the thirty feet down the hall.

"I second what Cam said," he murmurs as we reach the door to the outside.

"About taking me home?" I ask, or well, grumble. "I know I've reach my limit. I don't need two men to tell me what to do."

He touches my cheek. "About being proud of how far you've come."

I still, heart squeezing hard.

"I love you, Ats," he says roughly, "and even though I already consider you my sister, I love that you'll be even more deeply ensnared into the Jacksons now that you're with Cam."

My eyes sting, but my mouth quirks up. "No spiel about being good enough for your little brother?"

He grins, but his tone is serious when he says, "No one will ever be good enough for you." He leans in and kisses the top of my head. "But Cam's as close to that as possible."

"It's your fault, you know?" I manage to ask lightly, desperately blinking back tears.

"What is?"

"That my heart isn't frozen in ice any longer."

" Ats ," he rasps.

"You chipped away at the shields."

His throat works and then he hugs me carefully. "I took a blowtorch to them is more like it."

"Though," I say, knowing we need to lighten the mood before I turn into a puddle of tears, "I guess the real difference were Martha's cinnamon rolls."

He laughs then leads me over to where Cam has parked. "I think hearing that would make her day."

"I know," I say but then my focus is diverted.

Because my heart is now standing in front of me, held safe and protected and…in Cam's hands.

Lex gives him a noogie. "Love you, kid."

"Ugh." He bats him away then smiles. "Love you too—even though you're a pain in my ass."

"Rude."

But then Cam is helping me fold into the seat, and he's saying goodbye to Lex, who says that we'll see him later for lunch before he flies home.

And we're heading home.

After my nap, with Cookie by my side, we hang with Lex. And after my second nap—I'm resting, okay?—he hands me my laptop and a warm cinnamon roll.

And after that we spend a perfect evening killing orcs.

It's not what I expected, or even what I dreamed of.

And it's not perfect, but that's okay.

Because I know that Cam and I are going to make sure it's perfect for us .

With cinnamon rolls and whisky and a cat who makes biscuits on my face.

And each other.

That's the most important part.