Page 82 of Shield and Savior

Hadeon pulls a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and holds it out to her. “Penny wants to make you an offer for Grasshopper for forty-five million.”

Alana shakes her head and shoots him a death glare even Nonna would be proud of. “No, the product isn’t ready yet.”

“But you need the money now.”

She does. I’ve seen the finances. Mastodon is holding on by a fraying thread.

Alana goes to cross her arms, but readjusts so her injured arm is on top. “Penny is trying to buy Grasshopper at a discount because she knows it will be cheaper without the product. And because she knows I need the money. But if I hold out two more years, once Quasar is complete, I will start a bidding war and get at least 500 million.” Alana pinches her lips into a frown, but her voice is light. “I know, because that’s exactly what Penny taught me to do.”

Hadeon scrubs his face. “Please let us help you. It could be a loan. We could invest in you. It takes a lot to rattle my wife, and she’s worried. Even Zach and Hannah are concerned. And Hannah hates everyone.”

Alana scoots up on her bed. “God, I wish I had that privilege.”

“To be rich, white, and male?” I say.

Hadeon rolls his eyes—I’m sure he’s heard that every day of his life—but Alana smirks. “The privilege of fucking up and having a support team.”

“You have a team. The Olympians, the Four Families, and half of Hollywood. Why the hell do you keep putting us on the bench?”

“Because I have to do this on my own. You can get rescued, and no one will think you’re weak. If I take help, I’m weak. And weakness means death. And I’ve got too much shit going on to die.”

I wish I didn’t understand, but I do. It’s the same reason why it took me ten years to come home. Help equals weakness. She’s not attached to any family. She’s on her own island. Well-liked, respected, even feared, but she’s an outlier. Not a baby gazelle, but one of those birds who sits on the back of an alligator. Watching everything, slightly protected but weak on its own.

Hadeon sighs, “She knew you wouldn’t take the deal.” From the other side of his jacket, he pulls out another paper. “Go get psychedelic therapy or hypnotherapy or anything. Call the number and get an appointment.” He drops it on the bed. “Or you can always call to talk.”

Alana dips her head and smiles. “Thank you.”

Hadeon crosses the space and puts his lips on her forehead. “Get better. We need you.” He turns to leave, but the dogs freeze. Tiny whines begin as they look up at him. Midge won’t let them pass. “Are you kidding me? You’re killing machines, trained to rip out people’s jugulars, and a ten-pound cat scares you?”

The dogs’ ears flatten against their heads, followed by more whines. I scoop up the cat, and the dogs trot ahead of their owner. Hadeon gives me a smile before popping into Lance’s room.

It’s my turn. I check my watch. Only five minutes left.

“I’ll keep it quick.” Midge jumps out of my hands and curls up next to Alana. “Schedules are done for the next pay cycle. We have a few applications for new positions that need to be looked at. And I sold the three safe houses. There are five others I sent you that we could start bidding on.” Macie and I have been running and rebuilding Mastodon. Joey can keep me on payroll for a few more weeks, and hopefully, by then, things should be stable.

I pause because I don’t want to say it.

“We’re broke,” Alana says.

“Yeah. the insurance companies are dragging their feet with the checks, and there’s all these other bills. There’s a bill for drug rehabilitation, and tuition. All those are addressed to you. Macie’s tuition was ‘reduced’ because she’s a Merit Scholar.”

Alana frowns. “She is a Merit Scholar, but the funding was cut, and the scholarship can’t even pay for food.” She drums her fingers on her bedspread and glances off into space. “Anything else?”

“The owner of Patriot Security contacted me. He’s retiring, and he wanted to give you the first chance to make an offer. They have fifty more employees and an actual building. Their client list is pretty strong.”

“I’m aware. What did Waverly say when she did the data analysis?”

Waverly is many things. Being a master at research is one of them. She sent me the files this morning. “It’s a solid investment…if we had the money.”

Alana is silent for a moment as her eyes drift over my shoulder. I feel Lance’s hand on my lower back. I smell his body wash. His healing process has been slow but steady. We talked about this last night. I have my doubts, but he’s convinced it’s the right thing to do. And with Alana’s finances being what they are, I think he’s doing it for her, too.

He clears his throat and steps beside me, turning the white envelope in his hands.

Alana’s eyes narrow. Her face tightens, and her shoulders straighten. “Don’t fucking give me that.”

Lance steps forward. “Alana, I have to.”

It’s his letter of resignation.

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