Page 155 of End Game

“Is your Mace where you can reach it?” Mason asked, his chest tightening.

Jozi patted the small handbag slung across her body. “Yes, sir.”

He surveyed the chaotic, yet organized, mess that was Freshman Move-In Day at Duke. Vehicles rolled in at designated times, enthusiastic volunteers helped unload mountains of belongings that would later be stuffed into sardine-sized dorm rooms, wide-eyed freshmen took in everything with varying degrees of wonder, excitement, and terror, and conflicted parents waved off their kids with an odd sense of relief, hope, and anxiety.

“You’ll take it with you wherever you go,” Mason pressed.

“Even the bathroom,” Jozi said, finishing his mantra. She grasped his forearm. “Don’t worry, Dad. I got this.”

He’d done his best to prepare her for the world, to give her the tools needed to fend off predators. He’d taught her every self-defense move he knew, even the dirty ones. Now, he had to set her free on a campus the size of a small town. A place where she would become a woman.

“If you need me, text, call, whatever.” He noticed the ache in his teeth and worked to relax his jaw. “Day or night.”

“I know.” She smiled.

“Emergency phrase?”

“It’s Grandpa’s birthday.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I got this.”

He swallowed hard, then pulled her in for a hug. “Your mom would be so proud.”

She tightened her arms around him. “I’ll see you at Thanksgiving.” She lowered her voice. “Stay alive.”

He stilled, then set her at arm’s length. In her eyes, he saw an understanding of him that he never wanted his daughter to have. Something cracked inside his chest.

She threw her arms around his neck and whispered, “I love you, Daddy. All of you.”

Mason snapped his eyes shut before any passersby could see the gathering moisture. He knew in that moment she would be all right. His strong, intelligent, beautiful girl.

When he had control again, he sensed eyes on him. He scanned the crowd once more, and froze. Two familiar figures leaned against a low stone wall, watching them.

Detecting his mood shift, Jozi stepped back and searched his face. “What’s wrong?”

He tore his gaze away and looked down at his too-smart daughter. “Stay here.”

“Where are you going? The family farewell event starts in fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll be back in five. Don’t move, Jozi.”

His daughter, like the men and women he’d served with, recognized his we’re-in-danger tone. After another visual recon, he strode toward the pair who had the power to destroy the one person in the world he cared about.

“He looks pissed,” Ash said, as he pushed off the low stone wall and anchored himself in a defensive position.

“As far as he’s concerned, we’re the enemy—and far too close to his daughter.” Kayla flicked a glance at Ash, standing between her and Mason. “Please sit. Your battle stance isn’t helping to dispel the illusion.”

“Not yet.”

Stubborn men.

The tension in her shoulders eased though, when she noted Ash shifting his weight to one leg and uncurling his fingers from their fisted position.

Mason halted six feet away. His attention slashed between the two of them. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking in on an old friend.” Kayla still didn’t know what to do with her conflicting emotions about Mercenary Mason. But the man who’d always anticipated her needs, made her laugh, and never judged her, him, she missed.

“How did you know we’d be here?” When neither of them spoke, Mason’s attention fixed on Ash. “Let me guess. Rohan.”

“He’s a marvel,” Ash said without inflection.

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