Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“Should it scare me too?”
Harper shrugged. “Maybe. You’ll have to decide that. But if you decide it does, you have to let him go.”
Autumn blew out a slow breath. Yes, that truth had been skating at the edge of her mind, and she hadn’t yet acknowledged it because she hadn’t wanted to. But she felt it in her bones. Yet even the thought of letting him go made her ache inside.
They were both quiet for another moment, Harper obviously letting her mull that over. It felt like something Autumn needed to do in private though, somewhere she could listen closely to her own heart, so she changed the subject. “You’re obviously close to Agent Gallagher,” she said. “Can we trust him?”
Harper smiled warmly. “Implicitly. We do. He proved himself to us many years ago when he helped rescue Jak and helped him find his place in the world. And he’s been a part of our lives ever since. He’s a grandfather to our son, and”—she patted her stomach—“to this one. And he’s a father figure to us both. He’s a good man, through and through. Trust him. I promise. You will not find a better team member.”
Team member. “Thank you. It’s been hard. Only us, facing so much uncertainty alone.” And it’d been wonderful too, in some ways, but Autumn was so incredibly grateful that they had a team to walk with into whatever might be coming next.
“You’re not alone anymore,” Harper said, resting her hand on her shoulder. “We’re only here for a short time, helping you and Sam settle in, offering whatever we can. And then we’ll head back to Montana. But I hope you’ll consider us family and call on us whenever you need to. And if at any point, you want to stay with us, we have more than enough room.”
Relief flowed through Autumn, a feeling of community that she’d felt when she’d first moved in with Bill and met the people of her town. Only she’d been so young then, slower to trust, slower to listen to her gut, skittish in ways she wasn’t now. She stood, reaching out her hand for Harper, who took it and stepped down from the wall, offering the same self-deprecating laugh she had when she’d climbed onto it. “Thank you, Harper. You have no idea how much I needed a friend.”
Harper linked her arm with Autumn’s as they started to walk. “Oh, but I do. I know very well.”
Autumn conceded the point with a smile as they headed back up the stairs toward their men.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sam stood in the doorway for a moment, watching suspiciously as Jak and Eddie wrestled on the floor. The child let out shrieks of laughter, attacking his father with all his strength, which was to say barely any. His father laughed, easily holding him at bay with a single extended arm. Sam couldn’t understand it. He didn’t understand play that didn’t involve one opponent winning. But this clearly didn’t, since if they were playing to win, Jak would have effortlessly overcome the small child who might someday be a giant but definitely wasn’t one now.
It’s how dogs play, he thought, remembering back to watching a mutt behave in the same way with her puppies on a street in Mexico City. He’d sat in the shade of a tree as he’d waited for a signal to come through on his phone about his target and watched her for a good long while. It’d interested him in the same way the sight before him did now. He’d thought then that the mutt was teaching her young how to fight, and maybe that was what Jak was doing too. But it surprised him, and he wasn’t sure exactly why. Possibly because Sam had learned to fight, to be strong, in a much different way. There had been no laughter, no fun. There had only been images of violence and blood and carnage. And later…Autumn’s pale, weak body lying prone for him to do with as he pleased. A deep shiver snaked down his spine, and he forced his mind back to where his gaze still lingered on Jak and his boy, tussling like wolves.
Then again, Jak had practically been a wolf for much of his life. He’d told Sam some of it. He’d told Sam to think of him as a brother.
Sam and Jak were the same yet so very different.
Sam didn’t romp or laugh or play. He wouldn’t even know how. When he tried to imagine it, it made him want to laugh and, strangely, to cry.
Harper, sitting on the couch nearby, using large needles that clicked and clacked to weave together a piece of yellow string, laughed when Jak growled at Eddie, flipping him over and putting his palm underneath the boy’s head so that it didn’t hit the floor. Eddie shrieked with apparent glee again, and Sam turned away, feeling inexplicably sullen about the whole scene.