Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Athena

A couple of days after watching Cam's game with the rest of the Jacksons, I exhale and squeeze the Glock's trigger, the kickback from the handgun barely registering.

Natural.

Normal.

Just…another day at the shooting range.

Another exhale and then I'm firing again, concentrating hard, making sure all of my shots are hitting the biggest target—the torso. Of course, it's always easier to hit a paper target than a real person—and not just because a person moves. There's something terrible about bullets hitting flesh, the blood, the devastation that comes after for everyone.

I haven't been in many firefights, but…

The aftermath is something that clings to the quiet moments, to the darkness in the middle of the night, when sleep eludes me and the world seems like a very scary face.

I got into this line of work to find control, to conquer the horrible shit that haunted my childhood.

It both worked and didn't.

The stuff that used to scare me doesn't—I can protect myself, can be calm and levelheaded in a wide variety of tense situations. But I also know more about the world, the darkness that civilians can't even fathom, and?—

In some ways, it's even scarier.

I empty the last of the bullets from the magazine then set the gun down and hit the button to bring the target over to my end of the lane.

"Impressive."

I'd already sensed Lex's presence behind me, so I don't react other than to turn around and lean back against the counter. "Thought you were heading to the airport."

He and the other Jacksons are heading out today. The kids need to get back to school and the shops that Misty and Frankie own in the quiet town of Stoneybrook need to be reopened. And Lex, Chance, and Carter all have open cases.

Plus, they want to be out of Cam's hair before his next playoff game tonight and home from the airport and settled so they can watch the match up on TV.

But Lex doesn't address any of that.

He just scowls and crosses his arms. "You done with this shit?"

I match his energy—because sometimes you just have to. " Shit meaning a promotion?"

His scowl deepens. " Shit meaning leaving your support system and running to the other side of the country because a case went bad."

I still.

But not for long because I don't let anyone push me around, not even Lex. "It's not exactly leaving my support system "—I do air quotes—"when the Jacksons invade on the regular because Cam's here."

Of course, if I could have continued to work this case anywhere—fucking anywhere —else it wouldn't have been here, something I know that Lex knows given how he's looking at me.

It's soft.

Gentle.

And my stomach starts churning. "Don't," I warn.

"Shit went bad, Ats," he says. "It happens."

It happens.

"He's not an it," I whisper.

"No," Lex agrees. "He wasn't.

"Tommy died and he did it—" I press my lips together because I can't give voice to the rest of it.

Unfortunately, Lex knows this part too. "Saving you."

I clench my teeth so tightly that a bolt of pain shoots through my jaw. "It's part of the job," I hedge.

"Still leaves a scar."

A little boy without a father. A wife made a widow.

For me .

What was the fucking point? Saving a single, childless cat lady—not that I'm home enough to actually have a cat again—saving a woman who grew up in a shithole with asshole parents and leaving his family?—

Enough.

I lift my chin. "You're going to miss your flight."

Lex sighs. "You've always been a stubborn fuck, haven't you?"

Thank God. He's going to let this go.

"Takes one to know one," I remind him.

His mouth kicks up. "And look where I am now."

That strikes as deeply as the bullets I'd been shooting. Because my grumpy partner is changed, is better, is in love .

He waves a hand at himself. "Don't you want a piece of this?"

"No thanks," I mutter. "Never have. Never will. Even though you made that move one time."

"Asshole." He slugs me. "I was an idiot recruit. And I was drunk."

"That explains the sloppy ass kiss."

" Really an asshole." He bumps his shoulder against mine. "And you know what I mean. Don't you want more? Don't you want something that's not just the job?"

"I already have it," I tell him honestly. "I have you, and you gave me the Jacksons, and you know what you all mean to me."

That's about as gooey as I ever get.

Something he knows because he goes soft again.

Big, tough Lex Blackwell is a softie—it's a side few people ever get to see.

"Speaking of the Jacksons," he says. "What was going on with you and Cam on the porch?"

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

The urge to blurt that out is strong…and troublesome.

I ignore it.

Then tell the truth—also ignoring that my words are only a small semblance of it. "He was upset about the game and needed a hug and some encouragement." I wrinkle my nose in disgust, though my heart's pounding in my chest.

" You willingly hugged someone?" Lex asks incredulously.

I scowl. "I hug."

He snorts.

Just not very often.

"And you know nothing's going on," I snap, "even before you tried with that fishing expedition."

His mouth kicks up. "A big brother has to try."

That has my heart rolling over in my chest for a whole other reason. "Lex," I whisper.

"I know," he mutters. "Just deal with the fact that I'm in your life and I know that you're hurting right now. But you can't keep running. Take it from me. That shit always catches up to you."

My lungs hitch. "You know I'm not one to settle down."

"No."

I frown.

"I don't know that."

"Lex."

"But I do know that you're too fucking scared to step out from behind those icy walls you erected around yourself."

Ouch.

I mean, he's not wrong, but?—

Ouch.

"I love you, Ats," he said and that hurts too, albeit in a completely different way. "But I don't get what you're doing with your life."

I try on anger because I can't handle all the rest of it. Too many emotions. Too many feelings. Too much risk of the ice around my insides melting. "It's none of your business what I do with my fucking life."

He exhales, disappointment in his eyes. "That's what you don't get."

"What?"

"You're family," he says, pulling me into a hug and, hell, the man gives good hug. "You'll understand what that really means at some point." He sighs and drops his arms. "I just hope you'll finally see what's in front of your face before it's too late."

That ricochets through my head, stealing my words, my thoughts?—

Or maybe directing them.

Toward someone I can't think about.

Not that way.

Not now.

Not ever.

He steps back when I don't say anything.

He just doesn't know I can't say anything.

"I'll text you when we're all settled back in Stoneybrook."

"Okay," I whisper, his words jumbling my thoughts, his hug an acute reminder of all I'm missing. "Safe flight."

A nod, and he's gone.

You're family.

You'll understand what that really means at some point.

I just hope you'll finally see what's in front of your face before it's too late

He doesn't get it.

I do understand. I lived the opposite for long enough to know exactly how precious good family is.

Just like I lived long enough to know that it's not something I can ever have.

Lex texts me later that day, telling me everyone has arrived safe, and as much as I wanted to avoid the contact and pull back I don't.

I owe him that much—owe him so much more.

Plus, I can't risk cutting off my supply of baked goods, so I need to keep Frankie and Martha happy and that means I can't piss off one of their adopted kids.

Who am I kidding?

I need to keep Martha and Frankie happy because I can't stand for them to wake up one day and look at me like?—

Well, like my mom used to look at me.

"Ugh," I mutter, slamming my laptop closed and walking into the kitchen. I need a beer, to throw one of the cinnamon rolls in my freezer into the air fryer, and to go to bed.

But that doesn't happen.

Oh, I get my cinnamon roll and my beer.

But I don't go to bed.

Instead, I turn on the TV and…

I watch the Eagles win their playoff game.

And I worry that I've already begun to see what's in front of me.