Page 29 of Soldier, Tailor, Spy

“I enjoy hearing that,” he said, pressing his lips to hers. “Bronx found a cool little store on the other side of the plaza. You wanna go check it out?”

“Sure.” Since they’d been together, their relationship had evolved and changed. They weren’t just a poly family, they each loved each other on a deeper level than she thought herself capable of. Alé and Bronx were her endgame as much as she was theirs. The conversation had come up about them getting their own place, so they didn’t have to continue to share a home. Bexley and her team had more than enough money, after all. Nothing ever came of it because they were comfortable.

“You’re thinking awful hard.” Alé laced his fingers with hers. “What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I was trying to plan for the future.” She shrugged.

“For the future?” he teased. “Mami, whose future you planning?”

“All of ours.” Heat filled her cheeks. Sometimes she didn’t understand why a simple question embarrassed her as much as it did.

“Oh, all of ours.” He led her into a darkened corner, pinning her in a spot where no one could see them. “Mami, what were you thinking of doing?” Alé nuzzled her neck with his lips, nibbling there while sliding his hand under her shirt.

She inhaled, then let out a shuddered breath. “I want us to live together.”

His movement stilled before he lifted his face to stare at her. “You want to live together?”

She nodded. “You, me, and Bronx. As a f-family.”

Alé kissed her. His mouth moved over hers in such a way her toes curled, and her heart hammered. Her fingers curled into the shoulders of his shirt, anchoring her to him as he became more aggressive. When he finally pulled back, he cursed himself, then stared at her, trailing the back of his fingers across her cheek. “Yes.” There was no hesitation there. No sense of worry. His deep brown eyes didn’t show an ounce of trepidation or fear. “I’d like to move in with you, too.”

“B-But we don’t have a place to call home,” she said. “We’d have to go looking.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Alé said. “I’m sure Bronx will say the same thing.”

Bexley wouldn’t say she’d been worried about the prospect of starting their lives together no longer as a team, but as a partnership. However, the fear of what could happen had left her following the status quo. She wouldn’t disrupt their lives. Of course, all of her fears were irrational and were rooted in past trauma. Even realizing the truth of the matter didn’t make it any easier on her. “O-Okay.” Relaxed and turned on by Alé’s kiss, she pressed her lips to his before stepping out of the darkened cove. “We should go find Bronx and celebrate.”

“I like the way you think,” he said, gathering her to his side. “She’s going to lose her shit when she hears what you have planned.”

As they stepped back onto the promenade, a couple of men approached them. The way they held themselves, trained for almost any situation, military to be exact, put Bexley’s back up. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. She stopped, causing Alé to stumble. He chuckled, asking her if she was okay, but with one shake of her head, he, too, was on alert.

“Shit, what the fuck?” None of them had any kind of weapon on them from what she could tell. “Do you recognize them?” Alé gave each of them a little room, just in case.

“No.” They were out in public. How messed up would the situation become if they pulled out a hidden knife and stabbed them, if they weren’t hostiles? Those men could be anyone. However, the closer they came, the more the niggle at the back of Bexley’s mind said to run. Fight or flight was slowly kicking in. If she ran, she’d leave Bronx behind and if they wanted Bexley, who knew what they’d do to Alé or Bronx because of her. Their choices were taken from them. They were going to have to fight their way out.

“I’ll text Bronx,” Alé muttered. “She’ll help us. Just keep walking. Act natural.” He didn’t have to tell her twice. She could do this. She’d kidnapped a person in broad day light with a little help from Asher.

Bexley laughed, locking her hand with Alé as if he’d just said something funny. There were four men, from what she could tell. Two stores down from where they were, Bronx stuck her head out of the door and frowned. She exited behind them. Though the odds weren’t perfect in this case, together they could do anything. The only thing Bexley worried about was the innocent bystanders. Now would have been the perfect time for her to remember to take her comms set with her. Next time, if there was a next time, she’d remember.

“No matter what happens,” Alé murmured, “we have to get back to the base. That’s the only safe place.”

Bexley grunted, acknowledging him. Obviously, they could make a bigger deal out of the situation than should be. She didn’t think so, though. The feeling coursing through her was like a long forgotten friend. She tensed, slowing her strides. On instinct, her body curled inward to protect herself from the blows her father and his men would inflict on her. As much as she wanted to be tough, sometimes old habits died long, hard deaths. Hers were no exception to the rule.

Glancing over her shoulder, she realized in a split second her fears and paranoia weren’t that at all. Two more men approached from the opposite end of the tunnel, blocking off their ability to run if they had to. It served her right for running off without back up. If there was a next time, she’d know better.

“Excuse us, gentlemen,” Alé said in a firm, polite tone.

The men didn’t move. In fact, they’d stopped, blocking their way out. Bexley didn’t want to do this. Yes, she was trained—had been training—harder and better than the team because of Noah, her adoptive father. But violence wasn’t her thing. She’d seen enough of it during her lifetime.

“Y-you don’t w-want to d-do this.” Bexley swallowed hard, hating herself for stuttering.

“Yes, we do.” The man, she’d guess, was the leader, lunged for Bexley and the fight was on.

Bexley clawed and punched and kicked her way between the men so she and Alé could stick together. With the new modifications Bronx and Jacolbi made to her leg, the metal was lighter yet still held its form under pressure and fuck knows she was putting the limb through its paces at the moment. When one went down, the other got back up. Bronx joined them then, her knife out, and had a wild look on her face. They weren’t getting out of there without killing at least one or more of them, Bexley could feel it deep down.

“Don’t give up on me,” Bronx snapped. “These guys are nothing.”

The fact Bexley couldn’t place them worried her more. Over the years, she learned as many faces as she could from Raul’s cartel. These men didn’t belong to him. They were from somewhere else. She burned all their faces to her memory as she fought for her life. If one of them got away, Bexley would hunt them down, no matter what.

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