Page 110 of Pack Me Up
Cody and Colton close the distance, arms folding over us until I’m in the center of a cocoon. I feel Hunter’s hand on my back and Fox’s shoulder against mine.
The scents merge. Saint’s cracked pepper, Colton and Cody’s mirrored mocha, Hunter’s burst of frost, and Fox’s apple and cinnamon. I’m weightless, floating in the cloud of them, safe from everything but the past.
When they let go, Saint leans down, pressing his forehead to mine. “You sure?” he whispers.
I nod, answer final.
Fox threads his fingers through mine and squeezes my hand. “I can reach out to Robert,” he says, “if you want to see him again.”
“I do,” I say. “I want to talk to him again, but not today. We have a show tonight.”
Saint cracks a smile. It’s crooked, reluctant, but real. “You got it.”
The six of us file out. Down the hall, toward the service elevator, the carpet muffles every step. I feel the weight of what’s next, but it doesn’t crush me.
When we hit the lobby, there’s a burst of sunlight through the revolving doors. I blink, and the world tilts back into place.
Fox squeezes my hand again, and I squeeze back.
We move forward. Together.
Hunter
PHOENIX PACK SECURITY BRIEF #137
SECURITY PROTOCOLS FOR DATES WITH BRITTNEY RYAN
May 24th
When I pitched this idea to Saint, I didn’t admit to having two motives, but I think it was pretty damn obvious.
I want Brittney to be able to protect herself, and I want some time with her.
The drive out of the city is peaceful in the car we rented, even with the twins in the back seat. I lean over the console and grab Brittney’s hand, making her smile like the sun at me.
Colton and Cody are wedged into the back, snoring in sync. Both of them are sprawled, arms crossed, heads tipped back against the battered leather. If I look in the rearview, I can see the way their legs mirror each other, one heel bouncing to a tempo only twins could share. Colton and Cody came with us to provide security while Fox and Saint handled the new venue.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Brittney asks, voice sweet.
“A little something I planned for us. I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it, but I’ll be right there with you,” I say.
She shoots me a side-eye. “That doesn’t sound promising.”
I can feel her nerves down our bond, but they’re not worrying me.
“I’ll motivate you with kisses,” I say, turning down the radio. “And whatever else you want.”
She snorts. It’s not much, but I’ll take it.
I let the silence hang. After about five minutes, she cracks.
“Give me a hint,” she says, half-joking, half a dare.
I keep my eyes on the road. “We are going to be there any minute.”
She looks away, but her hand squeezes mine. “Fine.”
We pull up to the shooting range. It’s empty, as I’ve requested, making the building look abandoned.
