Page 91 of Fast Vengeance

Brock snorted and didn’t bother answering, anxious to get home to his own bed where he could actually get more than twenty minutes’ sleep at once. If he could stop thinking about Tori and what had happened long enough to actually stay asleep.

But once he walked into his place, an invisible weight settled on his chest. He was tired, sore as hell and generally in a piss-poor mood, but on top of all that, a wave of loneliness hit him.

The last time he’d been here, he’d been getting ready to meet Tori. He glanced at the couch, remembered the sight of her naked and trusting there up until things went wrong.

She was long gone now, having left two days ago to start her new life somewhere on the other side of the country. But it was like her ghost still lingered here, haunting him with her memory.

His body would heal, but his heart never would.

He loved her. Wished the hell he had told her before he’d been put on that transport. Now he had to find her. Find a way to be with her. Because that was the only way he would ever be whole again.

“Okay, man, you need anything else?” Lockhart asked, standing with hands on hips in the kitchen. “Taggart’s gonna pop over in a bit, bring some food with him.”

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks for everything.”

“Hey, no worries. You got anything here to snack on while you wait?” He opened the fridge, looked around. “Want some cheese and crackers?”

“Sure, that sounds good.” Truth was, he didn’t want to be alone just yet. He’d have plenty of that in the weeks ahead while he was recovering. He was too sore to sleep right now anyway.

Lockhart had just put the plate of cheese, crackers and pickles onto the table for them when Brock’s phone buzzed. He fished it out, some part of him hoping against hope that it might be Tori. But of course, it wasn’t. He hid his disappointment. “Taggart’s here. Can you let him in?”

“Sure.” Lockhart walked over to the keypad by the front door and hit the button, then waited to let their commander in.

“Loved the shot of you in the minivan,” Taggart said as he walked in with armfuls of grocery bags.

Brock threw a disbelieving look at Lockhart. “You texted everyone?”

“Yep. It was part of the deal.” He took the bags from Taggart, put them on the counter.

Taggart chuckled as he walked over and sank down on the sofa across from Brock, handing him a stack of mail. “Grabbed this for you on my way up.”

“Thanks.” There was junk mail, some bills, and a small package without a return address. He didn’t recognize the writing.

“Good to be home?” Taggart asked as Lockhart put the groceries away for Brock.

Sure. “Yeah.”

“You’ve got at least a week’s worth of food there, plus one of Abby’s lasagnas and a loaf of her homemade garlic cheese bread. Piper sent a bunch of baking.”

Okay, that made being here on his own slightly less depressing. “I don’t know how Maka and Colebrook aren’t six hundred pounds each,” Brock muttered. “I’ll text them to say thanks.” Overcome by curiosity, Brock ripped open one end of the padded envelope. His heart stuttered, seemed to stop a moment when he saw the flash of light blue.

He opened it wider. When he saw the contents, he sucked in a painful breath.

Tori. She had sent him the blue scarf she had worn to the hotel. The one she’d tied his hands to the headboard with. And there were two of the candles he’d brought as well.

He reached for the folded note she had enclosed, his fingers slightly unsteady as he opened it.

You will always be my light in the darkness. I want to be yours as well. T

Fuck. Him.

He sat there staring at it, realized belatedly that both Taggart and Lockhart were watching him curiously. He tucked the note away, set the envelope inside, his chest full of lead. This couldn’t be the end. He had to find her. Figure out how to make it work between them. There had to be a way. He couldn’t accept the alternative.

The way Taggart was watching him made Brock’s nape tingle. “What?” he asked. “Something up?”

“Yeah.” He waved Lockhart over, waited until he’d sat next to Brock before continuing. “Two things. One, Ruiz is dead.”

Brock’s eyes widened. “You’re shitting me.” No way it was from natural causes.

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