Page 25 of The Price of Forever

“As opposed to…a different number of adult non-humans?” I couldn’t help the question, nor the fact that it came out with a smile. The grin that erupted on her face made it worth it.

“What I’m saying is…there’s room. So get your ass in bed.”

“Fine. Just…don’t tell your brothers.”

“No worries there.”

“I’m going to shower,” I told her, moving to the empty side of the bed. “And then we need to sleep.” I untucked my shirt and reached for the Glock I kept concealed beneath my waistband in a holster. I ejected the magazine, pushed the slide back and set the empty gun on the nightstand. Jordan watched with wide eyes.

“Have you had that the whole time?”

“Every day. All day long.”

“Why didn’t you use it tonight?”

“I’m not trying to go to jail.” I bent down and released the pistol that I kept in my ankle holster. I took that and the Glock’s magazine with me as I headed to the bathroom. I trusted Jordan—but I didn’t leave a loaded gun anywhere, with anyone. “These are for emergencies. I don’t shoot unless absolutely necessary.”

“Well it’s good to know we have options,” Jordan said as I walked into the bathroom.

“None that involve gunfire.” I shut the door behind me, setting the magazine and the pistol on the bathroom countertop.

The silence that settled around me wasn’t the kind I was used to at the end of a day. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to settle down long enough to sleep with Jordan at my side. My days as a Marine had taught me how to handle sleepless nights on duty. I wasn’t afraid of that.

No, I was afraid of something much simpler. Much softer. Much more alluring.

Something I forbade from entering my life ever again.

Tragedy shaped a life, forced it into unknown, contorted forms. Mine had created the man that Jordan saw. I knew a little about the tragedy that shaped Jordan’s and her brothers’ lives. But they didn’t know about the one that shaped mine—the tragedy that had stalked into my fiancée’s bedroom one night while I was on patrol in the California desert and ruined the future we’d planned together. Reshaped my future into a barren husk, leaving me too heartbroken to ever consider opening myself up to that pain again.

They never found the gunman. It was an unidentified serial killer, the police had concluded, ultimately linking it to two other homicides in the area around that time. A random act of violence that crushed my heart.

One I could have prevented, if I’d been home.

One that refused to make sense, no matter how many years I spent mulling over the events.

After a certain amount of time, tragedy needed to be dealt with. Somehow. I could never properly seek revenge for my fiancée’s murder. All that was left was to bury it. Become the unfeeling monster.

I had no elasticity left in me to be reshaped by any force other than focus.

Love, and all things soft and alluring, just didn’t fit alongside the coffin of my buried tragedy.

CHAPTER SEVEN

JORDAN

I awoke to a darkened room. Unfamiliar shadows. My limbs went rigid as I struggled to piece together what I was seeing and where the fuck I was. The luxuriously soft sheets beneath me were the first clue. The rhythmic breath of someone beside me.

I propped myself on my elbow, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Ritz Carlton. I squinted through the darkness, groping for my phone. I peeked at the screen: 7:01 a.m.

Great. Seven a.m., and Seven at my side.

Again.

I settled back into bed, now that I was sure everything was fine. I’d barely slept four hours. Surely I could fall back asleep in this dark haven of comfort. But within a few moments my mind began wandering.

The way Seven had peeled Dustin off of me like a rag doll.

The way he didn’t even flinch when he turned Dustin’s face into a bloody mess.

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