Page 66 of Shield and Savior

Damn her, always turning unnecessary things into therapy sessions. I call bullshit. “That’s not what’s holding me back.”

“It’s either me, your daddy issues, or your mental health management.”

“Or the fact that she’s a client and a mob princess?”

Alana raises her eyebrows through the protective glasses. “Liar. If that was true, you would’ve been able to keep your hands to yourself.”

She’s right. Izzy’s family was only a small fraction of what was keeping me away. And let’s face it, I wasn’t really away at all. I was more in than out. Alana is six years younger than me, always more of a little sister, but she has her shit together. “When we first met, I was all fucked up, and you saved my life.”

She loads another magazine. “Yeah. Years later, and I’m the one who’s all fucked up.”

She fires constantly until the chamber is empty with only the clicks of the trigger hanging in the air between us.

“You’re not fucked up. You got hurt.”

“And I’ve been nursing that wound for way too long.” Taking a deep breath, she puts the gun back down. “I’m not ready to move on, but I won’t stop you either.”

My eyes sting from the gunpowder.

“I will never force you to choose,” she whispers. “Get your daddy issues under control.”

ChapterThirty-Three

Izzy.

“They caught him!” Specs informs me on the way over to my dad’s house. The hunters came through. I think the entire criminal world has sighed in relief now that Alana’s not going to hunt Mike down.

With my dreaded ex in custody, we’re moving back to the apartment. Drew’s a little pissed that he’s losing his sweet setup at the safehouse. At least Alana let him keep the PlayStation. But it feels like I can finally breathe, and maybe things with Lance will work themselves out.

It’s Thursday night. Not the typical time I see my dad, but when he calls, you go. What I’m not expecting is to walk into a room filled with the other men in the family. Joey sits on the couch, phone in hand, engrossed in something. My brother straightens some books on a shelf. He does this whenever he’s trying to appear busy. He might be a total fuckup, but everything is straight in the house. Sometimes I used to move the picture frames to the left to mess with him.

Dad waves me in and motions to the chair across from his desk. “Izzy, baby, come on in.”

“Is everything alright?”

Last time I saw them, they dropped the bomb that could ruin us all. But now that’s over, and a new dread takes its place. Because there’s a darkness on Dad’s face, the kind I only see when he talks about work.

They would keep me safe. They promised. And now that vow has been kept. My stomach tightens, and I grasp onto the end table to keep me stable.

“There’s been some movement on various fronts that may or may not involve your ex. We’ve got a few loose ends to tie up. Joey and I will be working on that,” Dad says, but the ringing in my ears blocks out the rest of the words.

Donnie moves a picture of the Four Families in a silver frame. “And Joey’s firing you.”

They’re sending us away. We’re going back. Back to the summers of 104 and air so thick it feels like your lungs are swimming. They brought me home to keep me safe, but it had nothing to do with me. It was all to preserve the organization. Now that’s done. And they’re sending me back.

My eyes slam shut, and I squeeze the tears back in.

This is temporary.

At the end of the day, all that matters is Drew. We don’t need them. We don’t need Lance. He was never mine anyway. He can go back to protecting Lena Goodlove on the red carpet.

I can re-enroll Drew back at his old school. That’s a better place than that fancy school anyway. If we leave tonight, he won’t have to do that stupid wax museum thing he doesn’t want to do.

Yeah, that’s how I’ll pitch it to him. “Good news, you don’t have to do any public speaking! Let’s pack up for the third time in a week.”

Joey tosses his phone on the coffee table and adds, “My office manager is returning to work in a week. Normally, I’m all about family. But I’m not about to fire a new mom so my cousin can have a job. I’m an asshole, but not evil.”

“Uh-huh.” The sound escapes.

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