Page 108 of Knotted Laces

That heneedsthis.

But I still want to quietly dispose of Peter Auclair.

“Hey, Coach,” I hear Cam say as Peter opens his mouth, beating the asshole to the punch and tilting his head toward the office. “Got a second?”

A second to enter the office and be arrested by federal agents.

“No,” Peter snaps, affecting a toddler prepared to tantrum, clearly upset that his fun has been ruined. “I’m busy. Go away.”

“Nope,” Cam tells him cheerfully. “I won’t.” He reaches for the door handle, pushes the metal panel inward and clamps his hand onto Peter’s shoulder, guiding him roughly inside. “Enjoy jail, motherfucker,” he says as my coworkers surround him. “Also”—he crouches in front of Auclair, holds his gaze—“you’re an asshole.”

Then he’s smiling as he crosses over to me and we watch as Peter is frog-marched out. When the fucker is gone, Cam touch my shoulder gently. “Good, cupcake?”

I nod, but I know that he sees I’m lying—oh, I’m positively gleeful that Peter’s getting his comeuppance—but I feel the fatigue sweeping in.

Rest.

Fucking rest—I hate that I need it.

“Lex?” he says quietly and my former partner glances over at us. “Taking her home.”

Lex nods. “You pull up the car, I’ll walk her out, load her up.”

“I’m not a package to be chucked in the back of the car,” I grumble after Cam disappears down the hall and Lex walks my weak and tired ass out to the parking lot.

“I didn’t say I’dchuckyou in.” Amusement in Lex’s voice. “I’ll set you carefully into the passenger’s seat. Hell, I’ll even throw in free buckling.”

I glare at him, but it’s taking most of my energy to walk the thirty feet down the hall.

“I second what Cam said,” he murmurs as we reach the door to the outside.

“About taking me home?” I ask, or well, grumble. “I know I’ve reach my limit. I don’t need two men to tell me what to do.”

He touches my cheek. “About being proud of how far you’ve come.”

I still, heart squeezing hard.

“I love you, Ats,” he says roughly, “and even though I already consider you my sister, I love that you’ll be even more deeply ensnared into the Jacksons now that you’re with Cam.”

My eyes sting, but my mouth quirks up. “No spiel about being good enough for your little brother?”

He grins, but his tone is serious when he says, “No one will ever be good enough for you.” He leans in and kisses the top of my head. “But Cam’s as close to that as possible.”

“It’s your fault, you know?” I manage to ask lightly, desperately blinking back tears.

“What is?”

“That my heart isn’t frozen in ice any longer.”

“Ats,” he rasps.

“You chipped away at the shields.”

His throat works and then he hugs me carefully. “I took a blowtorch to them is more like it.”

“Though,” I say, knowing we need to lighten the mood before I turn into a puddle of tears, “I guess therealdifference were Martha’s cinnamon rolls.”

He laughs then leads me over to where Cam has parked. “I think hearing that would make her day.”

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