Page 21 of Protector

“But you have company... I just thought you might—”

I could feel her frustration, but I didn’t want to dress up so that one more Ol’ Lady could tell me how sorry she was to hear about what happened before giving me a casserole.

I should’ve been wallowing in grief and self-pity over what had been stolen from us that night. Instead, white-hot rage coursed through my veins, knowing the three of them were still out there.

The soft strains of music began again, and I closed my eyes, feeling the lyrics deep within my soul. The tempo was slow, giving every indication that it was just another sad song.

It seemed those were the only ones worth playing.

Stevie’s voice moved to a dramatic howl that left goosebumps on my skin, and for the first time in my life, I understood her perfectly. The fiery passion in her words wasn’t mourning or even her feeling sorry for herself.

It was a declaration of war.

There wouldn’t be a fairy tale ending or some neat resolution where the club was concerned.

Hawk.

Cobra.

Manny.

They’d come looking for Grey, and just as soon as I was healed, I was going to go looking for them.

* * *

“Mama, can you check again?” Dakota whispered. “I know I saw Loki hiding under my bed.”

Kate rolled onto her side with a dramatic huff. “I tried telling her, but as usual, she wouldn’t listen.”

“What? Pops checked every night for me. You can never be too careful.”

I gripped the bedpost and knelt down, grinning at the assortment of comics stacked messily underneath. “Oh, Dakota’s right. There is a Loki under the bed.”

I stood up, holding the comic over my head in victory. “Here we are. One Loki, just as you demanded. I think he was trying to infiltrate Asgaard again.”

Dakota snatched the comic from my hand with a giggle before placing it face down on the nightstand. “Hey, Mama? Do you think it would be okay if I wrote a letter to Santa tomorrow?”

Kate made another sound of exasperation. “Santa’s not real, just like your dumb superheroes aren’t real. Only babies believe in that stuff.”

Not even home for twenty-four hours, and it was apparent that their relationship had not improved during their time away.

“Kate, be nice to your sister,” I warned, before turning back to Dakota. “Santa is real, and if you want to write him a letter and ask for something special—”

“It’s not that. It’s just that Nan took me to the mall to visit, and already I left a letter, but I told him to bring my gifts to their house because I didn’t know how long you’d be gone.” Her voice grew small. “I just don’t want him to go to the wrong house.”

“You should just have them delivered there... at least Nan has a tree up.” Kate gestured toward the hall. “Our house isn’t even decorated. Plus, she’ll probably just leave again.”

Dakota’s head whipped around to face me. “That’s not true, is it? We’re not going to have to go back to Nan and Pop’s house, are we? You won’t leave us again, will you?”

I sucked in a startled breath and shook my head, earning an eye roll from Kate that I decided I was better off ignoring. As if losing her daddy hadn’t been enough, she’d been yanked from her bed and moved to my parent’s house with no explanation.

My daughter had become a full-blown cynic at the age of ten.

It wasn’t fair.

Nothing about our lives had gone the way I planned.

I waited for the telltale prick of emotion when Dakota’s body plowed into my sore ribs and she buried her face against my neck, holding me in a death grip.

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