Page 103 of Cohesion

“I’m coming,” Peyton said, crowding against Jericho’s back.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“I’m going.” He slipped around Jericho and stood beside Six. He’d kept his shoes on while he’d slept and was fully clothed.Ready to move at a moment’s notice. “Will is still sleeping so—” He gestured for them to leave the room.

Jericho paused to take a quick look at Will’s sleeping form, on the bottom bunk on the opposite side of the room. Peaceful in sleep, his head on the mattress and hugging the pillow to his chest instead of using it for its intended purpose.

Quinn, Hunter, and Riley—who had shown up shortly before Jericho had been forced by Hunter to take a nap—were still at the kitchen table, with a half dozen empty mugs around them. Hunter was notorious for never using the same mug twice. Either he’d gone through a fuckton of coffee, or he’d infected Quinn and Riley with the same habit.

Riley didn’t drink a lot of coffee—he was a robot that ran on pure stubbornness—so it had to be Quinn.

Jericho ruffled Quinn’s hair and kissed the top of his head. “We won’t be long,” he promised, figuring Quinn already knew what was going on. “Peyton is coming with us.”

Quinn looked between them, clearly torn. “Be safe.”

“Maverick is on call if you need him,” Hunter said.

Not a comforting statement but important nonetheless. If Spencer was in the car, then they would need a way to transport his body quickly and quietly.

It wasn’t their ideal outcome.

Peyton said something quietly to Riley, who nodded. “Are you armed?” Riley asked.

“No.”

Jericho didn’t particularly want to arm Peyton, not now that he knew his PTSD manifested in more than nightmares. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t already a lethal weapon; he could do enough damage if he was triggered without putting a gun in his hand.

“I don’t need it,” Peyton said stiffly. “I’m ready to go.”

“You’re not going out there without something.”

“Decide quickly,” Six said impatiently, “or I’ll leave without you.”

Jericho knelt down on the other side of the island bench, pressing a code into the bottom drawer. It beeped and slid open. Jericho hesitated and then grabbed a handgun, along with a hip holster that already had a small torch and other useful small objects attached to it, and a combat knife with an ankle strap.

“Here.” He kept hold of the gun even after Peyton closed his fingers around it. “I trust you.”

“That makes one of us.”

Uncaring of the fact that Riley was watching them, and that his lip still hadn’t completely healed from when Riley had punched him, Jericho threaded his fingers in Peyton’s hair and kissed him. He dipped his tongue in, keeping it brief.

“I won’t let you hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it,” he said for Peyton’s ears only.

“Thank you.”

Jericho kissed Peyton’s forehead and then let go. He tossed him two magazines and then nudged the drawer closed with his boot.

“Ready to go?” Six asked from where he was leaning against the wall by the door with Bianca strapped to his back. She was a beautiful weapon, and if there were ever a time that he was allowed to take her out, it was now.

No one who shouldn’t would see them as they moved around.

THEY EASILY SPOTTED THEcar, abandoned on the side of the road on the outskirts of Sydney. A back road that rarely got any traffic. A pathetic attempt to keep it hidden.

That in itself told Jericho there was nothing to find here. A dump and run.

“How’d you find it?” Jericho asked, stepping out of the SUV and closing his door.

“Police dispatch,” Six answered. “Someone drove past and noticed it, called it in. Riley picked it up and handed it over.”

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