Page 88 of The Hard Way

It was great news, but I kept thinking about my sisters. I didn’t want to leave without seeing them happy. But I didn’t know whether I could.

I forced the thought from my mind. Instead, I focused on the book that Odin could never own, gathering dust at the place next door. I thought about how he’d run a finger over the half-sketched faces, admiring the line. Odin sketched a lot, and he’d done the designs on our tattoos. He used to go up on the roof of the safehouse to draw. He loved the light up there. If we had a real home, he could have an art studio, and he could keep the book in it.

I imagined excusing myself to go to the bathroom and buying it and asking the store owner to hold it for me until I sent for it.

But that was a fucking delusion that I’d ever send for it.

Denko was getting better at chasing us. We’d probably never stay in one place long enough for that reason alone. And what if we did settle in somewhere for a month? Or what if we went to some faraway place to live? And I sent for it? That was dangerous, too. There was always the slim risk that Denko would figure out who we were long after we’d left, or at least suspect it. I’d send for the book, thinking to surprise Odin, but a SWAT team would show up instead.

We sped home that night through the shabby-quaint downtown. It felt a little surreal to think it might be the last I’d see of Baylortown for a really long while. Maybe even forever.

Chapter 15

The next morning, I woke up to Thor, looming over me with one of his horrible hangover concoctions in a jar. He smiled and began to shake it up.

“Is this a mad scientist house call?”

He grinned.

I rubbed my eyes, noticing his workout clothes. “Wait, you’ve already been running?”

“All three of us went running, Sleeping Beauty.”

We tended to travel light these days, though my guys insisted on bringing workout clothes due to their mania for keeping in top physical condition—something I definitely approved of.

I took the jar and unscrewed the lid.

“Drink up!”

I groaned.

He sat next to me and cajoled me to at least sit up. “Isis. Since when I have put something in you that didn’t feel excellent?”

“You are terrible.” I drank the beverage slowly and warily. It did make me feel better, though—or, at least, good enough to take a shower in the fussy bathroom that had different spigots for hot and cold in the sink, which used to seem so classic, but now it seemed just inconvenient when you wanted the water warm.

I headed down to breakfast feeling much better. Margie was there, laughing and chatting with my guys, who were looking fresh as daisies…if daisies were hot and masculine and had beard stubble.

Which these ones did.

I sucked down an entire mug of coffee in one gulp. Thor disappeared and came back with the box from the antique store.

“You didn’t have to get me a gift!” Margie said.

“Of course we did. Open it,” Thor said.

“My goodness.” She unwrapped the paper carefully, parted the sea of shreddy things. She lifted out the pair of cupids. “Oh!” It was the good kind ofoh, rich with emotion and drama. Her coveted cupids. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I think we did,” Thor said.

“Really, that one you broke—you can barely tell.”

Odin smiled his bullshit-calling smile. He’d helped Margie glue it back together, but you could tell.

“I love them.” She looked up and met all our gazes, one at a time. “I’ve had my eye on them…this is so thoughtful.”

“I know we haven’t been model guests,” I said. “But we’ve really appreciated staying here.”

She examined her cupids. “I’m glad you had a nice time.” With a shadow of a smile, she added, “If I ever get out of the bed-and-breakfast business, maybe I’ll have to go into insurance investigations.” She looked up, and this shiver came over me. A good shiver.

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