Page 169 of Secondhand Smoke

Maggie looked at Ghost. “We aren’t about to get raided, are we?”

He shook his head. “Underground chatter is quiet. Ellison took a major hit tonight. I mean, major.”

Aidan knew all too well: most of his men dead, all his files and intel confiscated, and, thanks to Vince Fielding’s new allegiances, the cops had put the word out on a breaking news update that Don Ellison was wanted by police for sabotaging his own people and torching his own house. There was no evidence to support any of that, and it would quickly fall apart at the hands of the media. But it bought them a little time. It sent Ellison running, for the time being.

“You boys look dead on your feet,” Maggie observed. “You ought to try and grab some sleep before the sun’s up.”

“Yeah,” Ghost said.

But none of them made a move to leave the kitchen. It was three a.m. and the room held that magic buzz of up-late and doing-important-things. One of those nights when all the mundane responsibilities were burned away by the hot stroke of a fortunate mission. When he was a kid, this feeling had accompanied Christmas Eve. Now it dogged a job well done.

“Kev,” Ava said, quietly. “This will have…been damaging for him.”

They all nodded.

With a sudden flush of helplessness, Aidan said, “I dunno what we can do for him. Bruises will heal, but…”

It didn’t need to be said. They all remembered the fallout from his first rescue, years before. He’d never shaken that trauma.

“Where’d Shaman go?” Mercy asked.

Aidan shook his head. “He took off when we got Kev in the truck. He just disappeared into the trees, same as when he showed up.” It had been creepy as hell, if he was honest.

“I still can’t believe you let that bastard help you,” Ghost muttered. “He was all dressed up like he was in goddamnMission Impossible.”

“He wanted to come,” Aidan said with a shrug. “Which is more than I could say for some people.”

A sharp look from Ghost.

Fuck you, old man.

“Anyway,” Mercy said, loudly. “Where’d the girl come from?”

“Her name’s Whitney,” Sam said. “Her brother owed Ellison and she was being held as collateral. She’s rattled. And doesn’t want to get more than ten feet from Kev.” She shrugged with her brows, as if to saywho could blame her.

“Trauma like that makes people close,” Ava said.

“I’ll take her home,” Ghost offered. “She doesn’t need to be involved in any of this.”

Sam nodded, getting to her feet. “I’ll go get her.”

Their moment of basking in the kitchen was dispersing; he could feel it.

Ghost’s phone rang, and he stepped out the back door to answer it.

“Come on, Mama,” Mercy said, pushing off the cabinets. “I wanna go to bed.”

Ava unfolded her long legs and stood. “Me too. It’d be nice to grab a little sleep before the boys are awake.” Before she left the room, though, she came to Aidan, kissed the top of his head. “You’re a good guy, Aidan,” she whispered. “A good friend, good son, good brother. Whatever Dad says, don’t forget that. We all love you.”

A lump formed in his throat, so he nodded as she stepped away, smiling warmly at him.

Mercy clapped him on the shoulder as he left the room. A silent communication that said so many things.

When he was alone with Maggie, she eyed him over her coffee mug and gave him one of her patented, all-knowing queenly smiles.

“What?” A loaded question with her, always.

Her smile widened. “Do you remember, when you were ten, and we had to make that pirate ship out of popsicle sticks for your history project?”

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