Page 5 of Saving Their Forever

I look to West. “Sampson’s planned every op we’ve had since he joined. He’s more than capable of running this team.”

“What does that mean for…funding?” Inara asks. “Because West might be a fucking genius, but my investments do a hell of a lot better than his.”

The SEAL shoots her a look. “I let Rip handle all my shit now.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter. “I’m not dying. Or going off the grid. Neither is Dax. Our financials are solid and they’ll stay that way. I’m sticking close to home. It might be temporary, it might be permanent. And Wren…she can’t be our go-to tech resource anymore.” Turning to Ripper, I wait for him to lift his gaze to mine. “You’re on point, brother. If you’re up for it.”

Fear churns in his irises for a second, and he balls his hands into fists. “Yeah. I can do it. But…is Zephyr going to help us out if we need it? The last few ops…Wren and I both had our hands full.”

“When she can. She’s been on a case for Austin for the past thirty-six hours,” I say. “We’re going to need to recruit for tech and ops.” I look to Dax. “Unless someone from Second Sight wants to relocate?”

“I can ask. Ella might want a fresh start. But everyone else has family in Boston or close by,” he says. “You’re handling two or three jobs a month, Ry. On average. If you keep up this pace, you’re going to wear everyone out. We need at least another five, six people. If not more. Otherwise, we can’t—” his voice breaks, and he clears his throat, “—save everyone.”

“The hell we can’t.”

He’s right. I know he’s right. But after spending fifteen months convinced we’d never taste freedom again, the idea of leaving anyone behind sickens me. Until the answer smacks me in the face.

“We need to expand.”

“Are you losing your hearing?” Dax asks. “I just said that.”

“My hearing’s fine. We’ll find one or two more folks to join us here in Seattle. But what we truly need?” I pause, sweeping my gaze over the men and women who’ve become my family. “Hidden Agenda locations around the world. South America. Europe. The Middle East. People we can trust in multiple countries. So when we take a job, we’re not flying from Seattle to South Africa. Or hell, even France.”

West nods. “That’s…doable. Finding people we can trust will take some time, but if we could work it so no one’s ever flying more than six hours? That’d be easier on everyone.”

Why didn’t I think about this sooner? We’ve been running ourselves ragged the past couple of years, and while we’ve saved a lot of people, we’ve had too many close calls. “Any objections to this plan?” I ask.

One by one, my team—my family—shakes their heads. “Then that’s it. Sampson’s in charge of things here. He’s been running ops for three years anyway. I’ll still be around. I’ll come to workouts. If Wren doesn’t need me at home. I can’t do…nothing. And while Wren’s not here, I guarantee she’ll tell you the exact same thing. So once we’ve found our footing with the baby, we’ll handle recruiting—along with Dax and Pritchard. Any questions?”

Raelynn stands, and I arch a brow. She’s still not putting all her weight on her injured leg. Fuckers who were after Nash a month ago almost killed her before West, Inara, and I got to her house and put an end to them. “You got something to say, probie?”

She shoots Wyatt a pointed look. “I keep tellin’ you. I ain’t the probie anymore. He is.”

“He’s backup. Unless he’s changed his mind,” West says.

Wyatt shakes his head. “Not yet. Hope still needs me. Even if she didn’t, I’ll never be a hundred percent again. You don’t want me on mission unless there’s no other option.”

“Fine.” Raelynn huffs out a breath. “I’ll be the goddamn probie from now until the end of time. Happy now?”

“Wyatt is. Say your piece, probie.”

She looks vaguely uncomfortable. “Ry, you—and West—gave me a chance when I didn’t know which way was up. I’d follow all y’all to the ends of the earth if you asked. No one here’s gonna give you shit for stickin’ close to home. You found all of us. Brought us together and made us…a family. We’ve got your back.”

CHAPTER THREE

Ripper

Charlie nudges my hand, then trots over to sit in front of the door. I'm wiped after actually trying to participate in one of Hidden Agenda's workout sessions, but the German Shepherd spent all afternoon lazing about in his dog bed at the warehouse. He's got energy to burn.

"I know, I know. Too much working and too little walking."

When he first came home with me from Safe Haven Animal Shelter, we'd spend hours outside. Walking down to Green Lake, sitting for a while, walking some more. Five, seven miles in a day wasn't unusual. Walls—even here in the sanctuary I've found with Cara—were my enemy. The only way I could spend any time inside was to spend as much time as possible outside.

And Charlie loved it. But the past few months...they've been hard. Hope's kidnapping, Raelynn and Nash squaring off with the Chicago mob, a couple of tricky K&R cases I handled because Wren just can't work eighteen-hour days as pregnant as she is...

I push to my feet, sway, and brace myself against the arm of the couch. Six fucking years as Faruk's punching bag, and the lingering effects of too many traumatic brain injuries still leave me unsteady if I get up too quickly or push myself too hard.Ry keeps telling me to see a neurologist, but what the fuck are they going to do? Run a shit-ton of tests and tell me to live with it? No, thank you.

Charlie whines and presses himself to my legs. "I'm okay, buddy. Just need a second." He stares up at me, his head cocked. With one of his ears half mangled, he looks perpetually curious, like he's always trying to figure out what I might need next, or what I want him to do.

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