Page 198 of The Wild Charge

Tenny hadn’t known tension had been building in the pit of his stomach until Ian’s benign question loosened the knot. “Your plane’s got reclining seats, so he should be able to stretch out: sitting too long makes the pain worse.” He gestured to his own ribcage in demonstration. “I’ll be glad to get him back home, such as it is. It’s hard to rest properly in a hotel, even one such as this, and…what?”

Ian was frowning. “I wasn’t asking about Reese, darling. I know he’s in good hands. I was asking about you. Areyougoing to be okay?”

Tenny frowned, too. Shrugged the duffels up higher on his shoulders. “Arm’s still sore, but it’ll–”

“Tennyson,” Ian said gently. “I’m not talking about your shoulder.”

“My…oh.” Just like that, his stomach twisted into knots again.

“It’s alright if you’re not,” Ian went on, still gentle. “I wouldn’t expect you to be.”

Tenny tried and failed to scowl at him. “I’m fine. That’s far from the most harrowing mission I’ve ever been on.”

“That’s not true. But.” He held up a hand to stave off protest. “I won’t argue with you.” Then, to Tenny’s surprise, he stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Tenny’s forehead. “You’re not alone now, remember,” he said, and pulled back with a squeeze of Tenny’s biceps. “I’m only a phone call away, and even if they don’t look it, there’s one or two of your new Dog brothers who know how to handle a mental tangle.”

He stepped away, smiling. “Just remember what I told you before: be brave, darling.”

Frowning, Tenny walked back to the elevator – where Reese was frowning, too.

“Alright?”

“Fine.” He put his hand firmly back on Reese’s lower back and pressed the button. “Let’s go home.”

~*~

The flight was uneventful. Somewhere between getting Reese set up with a seat flopped back and two pillows from the stewardess, and Evan bemoaning the fact that he’d never be able to fly commercial again after this, Tenny drifted off. He hadn’t expected to be able to sleep, and so was startled awake when the wheels skidded on the runway and the jet settled down to taxi toward Ian’s rented hangar.

He stirred with a mild sense of panic, and scrubbed the crust from his eyes. Reese, he noted, had righted his seat and was reading a book; a cracked-spine paperback with a nondescript cover that smacked, like all of Reese’s ever-growing collection of books did, of Mercy.

Speaking of…

Right up behind the cockpit, Mercy sat with his back to the wall, so he faced the two boys sitting across from him. Luis had been duct-taped to his seat. Grayson, only a glimpse of pale hair in the gap between the seats, wasn’t; smart enough, at least, to bide his time and know that attacking any of them on a plane would prove disastrous.

“Are you okay?” Reese asked, drawing his attention. His expression, when Tenny looked at him, was – like Ian’s, in a way – full of a gentle concern that Tenny immediately turned away from.

“Fine,” he muttered, and started digging their bags from under his seat.

A host of vehicles awaited them on the tarmac. He spotted Ava’s truck and Holly’s Chevelle. Boomer had one of the club vans idling, its rear windows tinted dark so they could transport Luis and Grayson without attracting any attention. He assumed Emmie was here for Fox and Eden, but then he spotted Shane behind the wheel of Walsh’s truck, and Emmie called, “Tenny, Reese, you guys can ride with me. Shane’s gonna run Devin over to Eden’s place.”

Tenny hesitated. She was here…for them? Walsh wasn’t even back yet, stuck driving the club truck down. And she’d…come to pick them up?

She stood on the truck’s running board, leaning out of the open driver door, smiling at them.

“Need help with your bags?”

The idea of tiny Emmie coming to take their things was so backward to him that he finally started moving. “No.” He tacked on a belated, “Thanks.”

By the time he’d stowed their duffels in the bed, Reese had climbed into the backseat and stretched out. Tenny sat up front beside Emmie, and she shut her door and turned the key, diesel engine turning over with a loud snarl.

“I’d love to watch howthatplays out,” she said, tipping her head toward Walsh’s truck as Shane turned out of the gate. “Poor Eden. Maybe I’ll take her a few casseroles or something. Nobody should have to cook on top of mediating between those two.”

“You think it’ll be worse than Walsh and Fox together?”

She snorted. “Come to think of it, no.”

Emmie clicked on the radio as they pulled off the airport property, and Reese was snoring within minutes, lulled by the chugging of the engine and the low strains of old-school country music. By the time they hit the Interstate, Tenny’s shoulders were up around his ears. His spine got stiffer and stiffer as he waited for the inevitable: for Emmie to ask how he was, and shoot him a worried look, and assure him she was there for him, or he could talk to her, some such rot.Reesewas the one beat to hell; why did everyone keep asking abouthim?

But when she finally spoke, she cemented her position as one of his least-despised people in Knoxville. “Walsh says you dislocated your shoulder, but when it’s better, I’ve got this new client horse in I think you’ll really like.”

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