Raid (Unfinished Hero #3)(55)

The news of Mrs. Miller and Rachelle approving was so welcome I had to bite my lip so I didn’t break my face smiling huge.

I felt Grams eyes sharpen on me and my smile faded.

“Don’t get ideas. That boy’s behind won’t mount a bike, precious. He might blow one up in a military exercise, but he’s not gonna ride alongside you while you mosey into town and pick up salad fixin’s for dinner.”

This was true. And it was funny.

I beat back the laughter and agreed, “I know, Grams.”

Her voice got sharp when she warned, “Do not take this lightly, child. You knew the danger, you still made a decision, took on this job and now you got people countin’ on you. His Momma, his sister, me, the town and, most importantly, him.”

My amusement fled. I held her eyes and nodded.

“Proud of you,” she said and she sounded it.

My heart warmed, but the smile I gave her was shaky. “Thanks, Grams.”

“I’m proud, but that don’t mean I’m not worried. Fire’s gonna get hot, chère. You made your choice. You do what you gotta do to take the heat.”

I nodded.

“Hope I live to see it,” she continued and my heart lurched.

“Grams—”

“Want one thing before I die: to know you’ll go on after me and do it safe and happy. That boy’s got the capacity to give you both, he doesn’t destroy you in the process. I hope I live to see him battle that blaze so he gives my girl safe and happy.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” I warned.

“Boudreaux do not cry, chère. You know that. Place to cry, on the back porch in the sun is not it.”

I pulled in a deep breath through my nose and again nodded.

“There’ll be good times, Hanna. Fill yourself up with them, hold onto them tight, ‘cause when the bad times come, you’ll need them,” she advised.

“Now you’re scaring the pants off me,” I told her.

“Boudreaux don’t show fear. There’s a place to feel fear and on the back porch in the sun is not it.”

I avoided her eyes by setting the afghan I’d finished aside and getting another one.

“Listen to your Grams, precious,” she ordered.

“I’m listening,” I told her, shaking out a blanket in preparation for folding it.

“You keep your chin up, you control tears and fear, you’ll be all right,” she told me.

“Okay,” I replied.

“Proud of you, chère,” she whispered.

I looked at her and smiled. “Love you, Grams.”

“I know, child. What do you think’s keepin’ me on this earth? Not easy to let go that kind of love. That kind of love’s got the power to hold you tethered to a world you should have left a long time ago.”

Oh my God.

Tears stung the backs of my eyes. I dropped the afghan and moved to her. Then I pulled her little, bony body in my arms and hugged her as tight as I dared.

She hugged me back.

Then she pushed me away, demanding, “Need a refill of tea. And get your boy one. He’s losin’ water.”

I pulled myself together, did as I was told and discovered I was right. Spot was lying in wait, not for cuddles but for blood. I discovered this when he hissed and launched an attack on my ankles the minute I stepped inside.

I stopped and looked down at him. “You don’t fool me, buddy. I know you love me.”

He reared back, hissed again, batted my toes then jerked away. He ran-waddled down the hall and disappeared.

I went to the kitchen, thinking that my days were filled with work and my evenings were filled with Raiden. I needed to figure out how to spend some time with KC so I could share things I needed to share without sharing things I couldn’t, and load up on more resources to fight fire so I’d be prepared when the time came.

Because no matter how good it was, and it was good, always underlying it was the understanding the time would come. I knew because I felt it and my wise grandmother told me.

And I had to be ready.

Chapter Fourteen

Scorched

Sunday evening…

I parked my Z next to Raiden’s Jeep, got out and jogged on my toes to the side steps of his place.

He’d taken off early yesterday morning on unexpected business, which stunk, but he phoned an hour ago saying he’d be home soon and telling me to meet him at his place.

So I’d had my first almost two days without Raiden in a week.

I should have taken this time to phone KC, get her up to speed and load up my resources. More to the point, I should have taken this time to phone my pregnant friend and make sure all was good in her world too. She had a toddler, a husband who worked long hours, a huge house and volunteered at three charities.

Both of us being busy, it wasn’t unusual for days to pass where we didn’t check in, even weeks sometimes. But since she had a lot going on in her life and I did, too, this was not one of those times I should allow things to slide.

I just didn’t do it. I didn’t know why.

Maybe I was holding this time precious.

Maybe I was just an idiot.

I determined I’d call her the next day as I jogged up the steps and stopped outside Raiden’s door.

I knocked, calling, “It’s me!” I turned the knob and stepped in.