Page 17 of Fast Vengeance

“They’re the team clowns,” Lockhart said, his voice drier than the champagne.

“Why, what sorts of things do they do?” Oceane asked.

“Mostly immature stuff,” Brock said. “Practical jokes. Whatever is most annoying to the rest of us. They feed off each other. But I gotta give it to them, when it comes to lip synching, nobody does it better. And board games. Man, those two are something else.”

Her family had loved board games. Growing up, they’d spent hours at the kitchen table on Saturday nights playing Risk or Monopoly. Once they’d become old enough to join in, her nieces and nephews had loved it too.

A pang hit her, taking her off guard with its sharpness. She set her plate on her lap and swallowed, the backs of her eyes burning. God, was it ever going to get easier? Would she ever be able to go a day without something triggering a painful memory of them, or a terrifying one of her captivity? And soon she would lose the people with her right now too.

She felt Brock’s eyes on her. “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, put her plate on the coffee table and stood. She needed a minute to herself before she embarrassed herself and made everyone else uncomfortable. “Be right back.”

Heading to the bathroom, she shut and locked the door behind her, leaning against it and closing her eyes while she fought back the tears. They wouldn’t help. Wouldn’t change anything. And she didn’t want Brock and the others to know she’d been crying.

Opening her eyes, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Sunlight streamed in through the bathroom window, illuminating her face. The concealer she’d dotted beneath her eyes couldn’t hide the shadows there. Or the ones in her eyes. She looked freaking ancient. Far older than the thirty-two years her birth certificate proclaimed.

And she looked…frightened. Not in the same way she had been. This was deeper, an unsettling sensation like she was standing on the edge of a cliff and knowing the moment was coming when she would be forced to jump.

The deep sadness in her eyes made her heart clench. She had done all she could to avenge her family’s deaths. Now what? Although she had no choice but to move forward, she didn’t know how. Didn’t know if she’d ever be whole again.

All right. Enough.

Giving herself a mental shake, she pushed aside the sadness and the weight pressing on her chest. Brock had gone to all this trouble for her, and she refused to spoil it.

Oceane looked up as Victoria came back to the kitchen. Victoria gave her a smile, then took her seat next to Brock, aware of the way his gaze lingered on her. She didn’t want to talk about it. She just wanted to enjoy the time they had left together.

Thankfully, Brock picked the conversation back up. Lockhart interjected here and there with his dry sense of humor, making her and Oceane laugh. “Wrestling?” Victoria asked, shaking her head.

“Superhero wrestling,” Brock corrected.

“And let me guess, you were Captain America.”

“Of course.”

“And who were you?” Oceane asked Lockhart.

“I abstained,” he said in a wry tone. “Or more like, stood watch and provided lookout so the rest of these man-children—” He gestured to Brock, “could body slam each other through tables and smash chairs over each other’s heads without command overhearing.”

Victoria gaped at Brock. “What the heck?”

He shrugged a broad shoulder, a smile playing around the edges of his mouth. “Had to win the belt back from Maka, defend my position as team leader.”

“And did you?”

“Sort of,” Lockhart interjected. “Cap brought in the rest of the Avengers and they all ganged up on Maka, who was of course the Hulk.”

“The Hawaiian Hulk,” Brock corrected.

“Yeah. Anyway, they piled on top of him, finally pinned him down, and then Cap stole the belt back. Yay.”

“I took the belt back,” Brock corrected. “And our Hulk did turn a little green after all, in the end. With envy.”

Victoria met Oceane’s eyes and they both shook their heads. “You guys are ridiculous. If the DEA only knew what you got up to over there.”

“Nah, it’s good for morale,” Brock said, grinning now. “And we only busted a few tables.” He chuckled. “Maka’s been moving pretty slow since we put him through that last one.”

Testosterone. It was a dangerous thing.

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