Page 30 of Cruel Love

I poke my head in, ready for anything. My finger cradles the trigger, adding a pound of pressure. Just one twitch and I’ll end whoever this is who thought he could just wander into my fucking house.

“Hey, Fox.”

I roll my eyes at him sitting at my kitchen table. “Dammit, Box...”

Boxcar barely glances up at me from his laptop and reaches for the travel cup sitting beside him.

I flick the safety back on and drop the gun on the table. “What are you doing here?”

“Needed someplace quiet to work,” he says. “My Boston buddy says he’ll make all the docs we need for Lucy. Just need to send him a photo ASAP.”

I nod. “And this guy can be trusted?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean...” He turns up his hands. “About as much as a professional con artist can be trusted but we’ve done plenty of business together before. Should be all right. But, if not, you know... we’re probably all gonna die anyway.”

I’d expect nothing less than gallows humor from Boxcar at a time like this, but I can’t blame him for it. I’m barely coping right now myself.

I glance around the kitchen. “How did you get in here?” I ask.

“I built your security system,” he says with a shrug. “I’ll fix it before I leave.”

“Fortify it if you can, please...”

His eyes scrape the ceiling. “Dani’s staying behind?”

“Yeah, for a little bit.”

“A little bit?”

“She’s packing a bag,” I say, one ear on the ceiling. I haven’t heard her moving yet, meaning she may have gotten back into bed. I don’t want to stop to picture the tears on her face. If I do, I might not be able to stop myself from going right back up there. “She’s getting out of dodge.”

“To where?” he asks.

“Anywhere.”

“Good.” He closes his laptop with a dull thud. “Caleb can keep her company.”

“Caleb’s going to Russia.”

“No, she’s not,” he says. “Caleb isn’t going with us and that’s final.”

“That’s what?” I chuckle.

“My foot is down on this one, Fox.”

“Look, man, if you’re trying to play the concerned husband card, you might as well burn it. This is Caleb Fawn we’re talking about here.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m more than a little accustomed to my wife running head-first into dangerous situations with zero regard for her own life,” he pauses, “but this is different.”

I lean forward. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s up?”

Boxcar inhales sharply, holding it for a second before letting it go. “She’s gonna kill me for telling you this,” he says.

“Box, what’s going on?”

He clears his throat. “Caleb is pregnant.”

My lips twitch. “You’re kidding.”

---