Page 139 of The Wild Charge

Fox could deck Abe for sharing his personal business with the bastard. “First and only.”

“Oh, ho ho! Just the one, he says. Don’t want to end up like me?” He winked. “’Fraid you won’t have much say in the matter, lad. If you stay with her – you are staying? She’s right pretty, wouldn’t blame you – then she’ll get to make that choice. Or, you could always…” He moved two fingers, miming running away.

Fox had left with a stern glance at Abe. “Don’t let this fucker out of your sight.”

Devin’s laughter had followed him out into the hall.

He looked at Eden now, her arms and legs crossed, and, though he was too tired to undertake such a thing, he said, “Are you going to want more?”

Her expression smoothed with genuine surprise. “More what?”

“Children. After this one. Will you want more?”

She studied him a long moment, then her gaze dropped, and her hand settled on her stomach. Down low, where, now that he looked, the first bit of softness was starting to make itself known. “I didn’t necessarily want this one,” she said, tone wry. “At least, I never planned for it.”

A surprisingly comforting admission.

“But now that you mention it…” she continued, a spark flaring in her dark eyes, “I think ten sounds like a nice reasonable num–”

“Oh, fuck–”

“Ha! You’re so easy.” She grinned, and though it was edged with fatigue, it was a true grin, one that settled the churning mess that was his stomach.

“Fuck you,” he said, because he could, then shoved her suitcase off the bed and patted the coverlet beside him.

“Hey!” she protested…but came to his side anyway, arms warm and welcome when they slipped around his neck.

~*~

When they finally got up off the floor, Tenny gave Reese first dibs on the shower and attempted to scrub the carpet clean with a wet washcloth. It was a semi-successful endeavor. After, he took his own fast shower, and they climbed into bed. Reese fell asleep almost immediately, but Tenny’s thoughts kept chasing one another, keeping him awake.

Even when Reese had claimed to hate him, in those first ugly, tense months, he’d let Luis slip away in favor of putting pressure on Tenny’s bleed. Had been sitting at his bedside when he woke in the hospital. He’d sensed it then, too; had from the first, really, though he’d hated it: like recognizing like. Two creatures who’d instantly known they were cut from the same cloth.

But tonight, even in the face of all his rage, Reese had vowed to protect him. Because he loved him.

That was…

Chest tight, a lump in his throat, Tenny slipped quietly out of bed and padded into the sitting room in his underwear.

Both their bags were sitting to the side of the rug there, and he crouched down to unzip his. He dug through his clothes and gear, sheathed knives and ammo boxes clinking together, until he found the innocuous file folder at the bottom. Its edges had gotten a little crumpled, but it was otherwise unharmed.

Tenny stared at it a long moment, pulse thumping in his ears, before he snatched it out, rose, and plopped down on the sofa, opening it so fast the pages inside fluttered, afraid he’d lose his nerve again.

Whoever had put the dossier together for Ian was a pro. Three pages of tightly-spaced black type offered a detailed record of Marshall Hunter’s life, from his birth in 1962 to his “death” in 2018. The Marine Corps. service photo on the front page was too exact a likeness – if decades younger – to the man Tenny had encountered to make that death real. He’d staged his own, obviously, in an effort to buy himself a new identity and more wiggle room in the underground. He’d been born in Montana, and joined up when he was twenty-one. He’d fought in the First Iraq War, and been medically discharged in ’85. Aside from a bar fight – arrested, but charges dropped – in ’92, his record was spotless.

It was on the final page that Tenny’s breath caught. The man was survived by five children: Nicole, Kristin, Reese, Jaxon, and Grayson.

Only one name meant anything to him.

Hunter was Reese’s father.

Tenny was staring sightlessly at the paper, debating the wisdom of telling Reese about it, when the lock on the door beeped and it swept open.

Pongo froze on the threshold, still gripping the handle. “Uh…” His gaze swept over Tenny’s mostly-naked form. “Mav said we could use any suite on the floor. I just need to shower.”

“Whatever.” There were two bedrooms, and the bathroom served both of them. He stood and snapped the file shut. “Just don’t go through my shit. And don’t wake us up.”

His gaze went to the two bags. “Us…” Then his eyes popped wide, which made him look even stupider. “Oh, uh, yeah…”

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