“He’s twenty-five years old. What the hell can I do?”

  “Do whatever you have to, man. Kick the shit out of him if you have to.”

  “I might enjoy that,” Hawk says.

  That’s Hawk. His quiet fortitude, his sense of justice, but it turns into fucking raging mania when he’s pissed off because someone else isn’t following the rules.

  But I don’t worry about it. He’s still my brother, and he’ll still watch out for Eagle.

  “Let me know what you end up telling Mom and Dad,” I say.

  “Will do. I don’t want to call too often, though.”

  “I understand. Take it easy.”

  “You too, brother.” The call ends.

  “Good news?” Savannah asks.

  I nod. “Raven’s okay. Her bloodwork came back. She’s still in remission. Her white cell count is only up because of a virus.”

  Savannah heaves a sigh. “I’m so glad, Falcon.”

  “You and me both, Vannah.” I pause and look at the phone in my hand. “We can’t use this phone very often, but I do need to call Leif.”

  “Please,” she says. “I’m serious. I don’t want you bothering him with trying to find Vinnie.”

  “He’s our best shot, Savannah.”

  She sighs again. “All right. But Kelly is never going to forgive me.”

  “I’ll give Leif the choice. If he can’t do it, I’m sure he knows others who can.”

  She frowns. “How many others do we want knowing about this?”

  “They won’t know. Leif won’t tell anyone why he’s looking for Vinnie. And he certainly won’t tell anyone about us or where we are.”

  She nods then. “All right.”

  “But Savannah, what makes you think your brother might know anything about this? He left the family.”

  “Yes, but he was the firstborn son. Things were shared with him that were never shared with Michael and me. Which is probably why he left the family.”

  I look deep into her eyes. “Savannah, do you really think he’ll know anything? Or do you just want to find your brother?”

  She gnaws on her lip.

  “I will help you find your brother. No questions asked. But if he’s not a good source for this…”

  “He may not be,” she says. “But I don’t know who else to ask. My father won’t tell me. I can’t get in touch with him anyway, because then he’ll know where I am.”

  “I see your point. So it’s either find Vinnie or try to figure out how to get the information some other way.”

  “Exactly,” she says, “and I honestly don’t know how to get it without asking Leif to hack into something.”

  “Yeah, I know a hacker, but like I said, we don’t want anyone else to know about this other than the people who already do—Leif and Hawk.”

  “Right.”

  “I have sophisticated equipment here in the safe house. But I’m no hacker.”

  “Neither am I,” she says.

  “Tell you what,” I say. “We’re going to have some breakfast, and then we’re going to have a workout session.”

  She frowns. “Yeah, there’s something you should know about me and exercise.”

  “You hate it?”

  She looks down at her feet. “I’d say hate is too weak a word.”

  “Too bad how sad, Savannah. I’m going to get you into shape. But first…” I slide on top of her, my cock hard and ready. “First, I’m going to make love with you.”

  A soft sigh leaves her throat, and her eyes close.

  I slide my cock into her wet heat, slowly this time.

  She’s already wet, and though I’d have liked to take my time with her, give her some awesome foreplay, all I could think about was getting into her hot cunt.

  I stay embedded inside her for a moment, relishing her tightness, her sweetness, her complete perfection.

  Then I pull out and push back in.

  Another sigh escapes her, and she wraps her arms around my shoulders.

  God, her touch.

  Just her fingertips on my flesh can get me moving.

  I pull back, push back in once more.

  But then I go crazy.

  Definitely time to fuck her.

  So I thrust back in, in, and…

  I’m coming, coming inside her sweetness.

  I stay there, empty myself inside her, and then I pull back out. “Sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I want you to come, Savannah.”

  She slides her fingers between her legs. “I can take care of that.”

  I’m breathing heavily, panting like a dog. “God, you drive me crazy when you play with yourself.”

  “This won’t take long, Falcon.”

  “I’d like to help you along.” I clamp my lips around one nipple.

  She arches her back, groaning.

  “Your nipples are so sweet,” I say. “Like ripe blueberries.”

  I suck on her nipples, finger the other one, as she rubs her pussy.

  The sighs from her throat, the moans, the groans…

  “Yes,” she says. “Suck them. Please.”

  I heed her words, until —

  “Yes,” she says on a soft sigh.

  She rubs her clit fiercely, and even though I’m not inside her, not even so much as a finger, I feel her climax.

  It jolts through me as if I’m having another.

  As if we’re connected on some visceral level.

  I drop her nipple, squeeze her breasts, kiss her lips, shove my tongue into her mouth.

  And as she groans into me, finishing her climax, I swear to God I fly along with her.

  We lie for a moment in each other’s arms until she rolls away, heads to the bathroom, and returns a few moments later.

  “I could go for a cup of coffee,” she says.

  “Your wish is my command.”

  We put on the robes that we wore last night, and both of us pad out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

  I start a pot of coffee while Savannah hunts through the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of eggs.

  “Bacon?” she asks.

  “Always,” I say.

  She grabs the package of bacon and examines it, frowning. “What are we going to do when we run out of fresh food?”

  “I told you, Vannah, I don’t think we’ll be here that long.”

  She presses her lips together. “How can you say that? I have no idea if anyone will be able to find Vinnie, and if they can’t, I don’t know how to get the information we’re after.”

  “We’ll figure it out, Savannah.”

  She nods and looks at me, but in her face, I’m not sure if she believes me.

  She doesn’t know my determination.

  Determination to keep her safe.

  She’ll go back to her talking points about how we both have equal responsibilities to take care of each other, protect each other. While I objectively agree with her that in a perfect world that’s how it would be, that’s not the hand we’ve been dealt.

  I will teach her to be strong, show her what she needs to do. Teach her how to fight.

  But in the end, I will protect her, no matter what.

  Savannah pulls out a frying pan and lays a few strips of bacon in it. Then she throws a few slices of bread into the toaster.

  Once the coffee is brewing, I take a look around the kitchen, figuring out where things are. There’s enough fresh food to last a couple weeks. If we’re here longer than that, we’ll have to get into the survival food.

  I doubt we’ll be here longer than that. But I need to find resources. Leif, if he’s up for it. If he’s not, he’ll know someone I can trust.

  And Hawk.

  He knows better than to tell Eagle any of this, but I need to find out what he tells my parents and sisters as to why I’m gone.

  Technically, I’m not allowed to leave the county without telling my parole officer. Vannah, of course, is no longer my parole officer.

  Shit. My parole meetings.

  I’ve been reassigned. Vannah no longer works there.

  And I’m definitely not going to be able to make my next meeting. Not if I’m here in the safe house with Vannah.

  And there’s no way in hell I’m going to leave her alone.

  I might never leave her alone again.

  Fuck.

  I’ll fix all of this somehow.

  I just don’t know how.

  Savannah brings a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast to me at the table.

  We eat together and I realize getting her into shape won’t work.

  I’m not sure what I was thinking, but that takes time. I had the advantage of being in awesome shape when I went to the slammer, and I only got stronger once I was there.

  I’ll start with an easy regimen for Savannah, because starting out hard will only make her muscles sore. So we’ll go slowly.

  But there’s something else I can teach her that won’t take as much time.

  Savannah’s going to learn how to shoot.

  10

  SAVANNAH

  “Learning to shoot a pistol safely and effectively involves a series of steps that should be followed with care and diligence.”

  I stare at Falcon. “Are you reading from an instruction manual? I’ve told you. I know how to shoot.”

  “This isn’t a game, Vannah. I’ve seen what failing to know your surroundings when you’re shooting can do, and you’re out of practice. I’m going to take you through every part of your pistol as if you’ve never touched on before. First of all, treat every firearm as if it’s loaded and the safety is off.”

  “Okay.” My heart beats rapidly.

  “Always keep the nose of the gun pointed in a safe direction and keep your finger away from the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.” I salute him.

  “Are you going to take this seriously?” he demands.

  “Yeah, of course. I’m sorry.”

  “Good. This will help you be able to take care of yourself. Keep yourself safe.”

  She points to the shelf full of firearms. “That small one. I’d like to try that one.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Smaller weapons tend to have harsher recoil.” He picks up a pistol. “This is a basic nine millimeter.”

  He educates me on the parts of the pistol—the slide, the barrel, the trigger, the safety mechanism, and the magazine release.

  “Got all that, Vannah?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. What’s this?” He points to the long part of the gun.

  “The barrel.”

  “And this?”

  “The safety.”

  “This?”

  “Falcon, I know them all.”

  “All right. We’ll see.” He grabs what look like bulky earmuffs and construction goggles and hands them to me. “Always wear ear protection and eye protection during target practice inside. Put these on.”

  I obey.

  “Is the fit good?” he asks.

  “I guess so.” I fiddle with my eyewear. “I can’t really tell.”

  He tightens my goggles and adjusts the earmuffs. “Good. You can take them off for now. Let’s go into the shooting range.”

  Falcon opens the door and I step in ahead of him. The heavy door shuts behind me with a solid thud, sealing off the world outside. The air is cool and still, and two shooting lanes, each a narrow corridor with targets at the end, stand before me.

  Fluorescent lights hum quietly overhead, casting a clinical glow on the two shooting stalls, their outlines marked by red paint.

  “This targeting system is state-of-the-art,” Falcon says.

  Like I’d know, but I nod. Down the lanes, the paper targets hang still, their surfaces smooth and uninterrupted, the concentric circles unbroken by bullet holes. The quiet is profound, the kind of hush that feels almost heavy, expectant.

  At each shooting station, there’s a small bench. Falcon gestures to one and sets my gun and my protective gear down.

  The ear protection seems superfluous in the silence, but I slip it on, the soft click of the muffs muting the already muffled world of this safe house.

  “Watch me,” Falcon says. He loads my gun with the first magazine. “Got that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, let me show you the stance. I want your feet shoulder width apart.”

  “Okay.” I obey.

  “Make sure you distribute your weight evenly on the balls of your feet to counteract recoil.”

  I breathe in deeply. “Okay,” I say again.

  “It will be second nature to you before you know it.”

  Great. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. I never wanted firing a weapon to be second nature to me, but Falcon is right. This is something I need to practice in order to protect myself. And to protect him.

  “Extend your arms fully without locking your elbows,” he says.

  “I don’t have my gun yet.”

  “That’s right. I want you to get familiar with everything before you actually pick up the gun.”

  He’s acting like I’ve never done this before. I sigh. I get my arms into position, facing the target.

  “Are you comfortable?” he asks.

  “Literally or figuratively?”

  “Both.”

  “I’m good.”

  He hands me the gun, careful to keep it pointing in a neutral direction. “Take this. Use your dominant hand to grip it, but keep those fingers off the trigger.”

  I take it from him, hold it.

  “Vannah,” he says gently.

  “Yes?”

  “I know you don’t mean to, but you’re pointing the gun directly at me.”

  “Shit!” I drop the gun, and it clatters to the floor. I truly am out of practice.

  “And that’s why we keep the safety on,” he says, picking it up and handing it back to me. “No reason to freak out. I know you don’t want to shoot me. But always be aware of where your gun is pointing. Never point it at something you don’t want to shoot. Try again.”

  This time I’m more careful. I point the gun toward the target, adjust my stance, and grasp the grip with my right hand.

  “Good. Now wrap your other hand around your dominant hand to secure your hold.”

  I nod, obeying.

  “Good. Keep your head upright and level, not tilted or turned, and bring the firearm up to your line of sight. Use your dominant eye to aim.”

  I nod, closing my left eye to bring the target into aim.

  “Keep both eyes open, Vannah.”

  I nod, open the left eye. Good, I’m still trained on the target.

  I cock my head a bit, careful to stay on target. “I wasn’t supposed to learn to shoot, but my father insisted. He said you don’t grow up in this kind of family without knowing how to handle a gun.”

  “Good on him. At least you weren’t treated like a second class citizen when it came to protecting yourself.”

  “I suppose it sounds like we’re treated that way, but when I think about it, that’s not exactly the case. Not so much second-class citizens as…precious commodities.”

  He shakes his head. “How can you be living in this century, Savannah? This makes no sense at all.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You say women are treated like chattel, but you don’t consider yourself a second-class citizen?”

  “Kind of, but the term second-class citizen implies that we’re thought of as having no value. That’s not the case.”

  “I won’t deny your value, Savannah. But I won’t have you treated as a damned commodity. All the more reason for you to learn how to shoot.”

  I smile at him and re-aim the gun. “Is this the right stance?”

  He nods. “Yup. Now, when you shoot the gun, you’re going to get some kickback. Something you have to get used to. You’re still lined up. You ready to shoot?”

  The earmuffs are tight on my head, but I’m ready. I nod, without losing my target.

  “Then go ahead.”

  I shoot.

  The kickback is rougher than I remember, and the gun rises as the shell hits the floor.

  But Falcon stares at the target. “Fuck it, you’re a natural.”

  Sure enough. I hit right outside of dead center.

  “Told you.” I smirk.

  “Do it again.”

  I aim again, shoot.

  Slightly more off-center this time. “Was that first one a fluke?”

  “Are you kidding me? This is still amazing. Again.”

  I go through eight more rounds, each one hitting right around the target, and one dead center. Everything comes back to me.

  Then I watch Falcon shoot through his magazine, hitting dead center every damned time.

  Falcon is still shaking his head when he takes off his protective gear. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

  “Vinnie was a good shot,” I say. “Dad always said he was better than he was. He also said I had potential.”

  “You’ve got more than potential,” Falcon says. “What about Michael?”

  “Michael was…different.”

  “What you mean?”

  “Michael abhorred violence of any kind. He hated what our family was into, but once Vinnie left, he felt he had no choice but to stay in the family. He married Miles’s cousin, and then ended up dead. He never got the chance to be happy, to live his life. To be with someone he truly loved.”

  “Was he in love with someone else?”

  “I don’t know.” I purse my lips. “I always wondered if Michael might’ve been gay.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “And that’s why he got killed?”

  “No.” I scratch my arm. “Nobody really cares what your sexuality is as long as you play your part. It’s possible, though, that he wasn’t sleeping with Elizabeth, and that was an issue. The idea behind alliances is that you have children. They anchor the families together.”

  “Was he effeminate or anything?”

  I shake my head. “Not all gay men are feminine, Falcon. And not all straight men are alpha and macho.”

  “Hell, I know that. One of the guys in the cellblock over was gay, and he was nearly as tough as I am. No one laid a hand on him.”

  “Then you understand that there was no way of knowing without Michael telling us.” I sigh. “I don’t really know. It was a thought I had. His high school girlfriend always seemed a bit unsatisfied with him. They never really made physical contact when they were together, at least not in front of the family. And then later, there would be these unexplained absences. He’d say he was going out but gave no reason. This was after he finished school, so it’s not like our parents could force him to tell them. But I always wondered what exactly he was hiding. He didn’t like violence, but that’s not why the thought occurred to me. It’s something I’ve wondered about for a while. Just a feeling. And whether he was gay or not, he didn’t get to live his own life, and that’s what’s the saddest.”

 

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