Page 47 of Reclaimed

“Jack from nine to ten.”

My lips twitch in a small smile. “Got it all covered, do you?”

“Jude’s there before me from six to seven, and if they kept going, Jack was going to call you and have you take over at ten until the girls leave, but we don’t expect them to stay all night.”

A strong unnamed emotion clogs my throat. “That’s good. A little overprotective but I think the girls would understand.” Not that I’m one to talk about being overprotective. I moved myself into Isla’s place to keep her safe from the unknown threat lurking about.

He snorts. “After the trouble these women have found after the last few years? We might all be a little on high alert. But that’s what we do. Good men have to be the buffer between women and bad men. We’ve all got your back, little brother.”

The fingers on my left hand loosen their grip on the basin. “It’s been a long time since any of you could refer to me as little.”

“You’ll always be that kid with two black eyes who looked at the rest of us like you’d just been given everything you ever asked for on Christmas morning.”

I cough. “I sort of was.”

“Yeah. Me too,” he says quietly.

We don’t hash out our childhoods, even less now that we’re all grown adults, but we know. None of us started with warm upbringings. It wasn’t until Nancy and Terrance took us in did we experience what true family was about.

The events of the last few months have pushed that to the forefront. I want that. More than anything, I want a family of my own to nurture and cherish and love.

“I should let you get back to work. If any of you need anything later, let me know.”

“Will do. I’ll pass the message along,” Corjan replies.

“I appreciate it. Later, Corjan.”

“Yup. Bye.”

I end the call.

My phone clatters against the countertop. Bracing my hands against the sink again, I let my head fall and blow out a relieved breath. The strain of late nights tossing on the couch is catching up to me. With nothing else to do, I finish my mandated hours at work and set my eyes on taking a mid-afternoon nap in my own bed.

The sun beatsagainst my face, uncharacteristically hot. I reach up to twist my hat around for some shade when a strong wind knocks it off. The invisible force feels like a taunting fist, catching my hat in the breeze and flinging it across the grassy field.

“What the fuck,” I mutter.

Leaving the path, I chase after it. The black cap rolls across the terrain. Rocks hidden beneath dead leaves and brown grass snag the toe of my shoe. I stumble. Righting myself, I curseagain, and turn in a confused circle. Where the fuck did my hat go?

Something moving closer rustles the leaves on a nearby bush.

Then a twig snaps.

“Who’s there?” I call. Two dogs from the Sanctuary appear on my left. Ashe and Remy stand with their ears flat against their heads, growling in the direction of the bush. Leashes drag behind them as if they ran away mid-walk. I crouch down and secure them both in my grip.

Something is wrong. We don’t let the dogs roam out here unattended.

A man steps out from between the trees like an apparition, a gun barrel glinting in the sun as he aims at Frankie to my right.

Where did she come from?

“Don’t fucking move,” the man orders.

“Whoa…” I raise my hands, palms out toward the threat and step carefully in front of Frankie.

Fuck. Where’s Jude? Doesn’t he know his girlfriend is in mortal danger?

“Hey man, put the gun down.”

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