The Long Way Home (Corps Security #6)(67)

A few ladies nod. Actually, looking around everyone seems to be nodding. Everyone but Liberty, that is. I look at her in question.

“Don’t look at me. I’m new around here.” She laughs, holding up her hands in mock surrender.

“Anyway,” Dee continues, looking at Izzy like she’s hanging on the edge of her seat. “Go on, please.”

“Well, when she asked what I meant I asked her how much she knew about Coop’s ‘death,’” she says, again air quoting the last word.

“And she didn’t?” Emmy says softly, guessing correctly.

“You’re right. I don’t know the details.”

“Do you want to tell her?” Izzy asks Emmy.

I feel a shiver claw its way down my spine at the look that passes between the two women. I’m glad I had given myself a chance to sit down for this. When Emmy speaks, I can feel her pain.

“He took that bullet because he stepped in front of it … to save me,” she tells me sadly, my mind flashing to the scar on his stomach. “I know because he had confided in me many years before, the only person who had ever put themselves in front of harm—for him—was his brother. Not a single other soul until you protected him like that, Olivia. It’s ironic as hell that the woman he brings home with him for the first time was the second person ever in his life that took pain that another meant for him. And honey, I’d bet a lot of money that each time his brother stepped in front of something meant for him, they were absolutely life-changing moments in his life. I know that certainly was the case for me when he took that bullet that would have ended my life. All of that pales in comparison, though. You just proved to him what he already knew.”

“Oh wow.” I let the warmth of her words settle around me. I would take more punches if it kept them from him, in a heartbeat. “That’s heartbreaking.”

“It was … now, it’s not so much.” Emmy gives me a small soft smile, her beautiful face full of compassion. “It was a hard time in all of our lives, but we healed the best we could. And now, my goodness you have no idea what this miracle means to us. I understand he came home because of your encouragement, too.”

I wave her off. “I didn’t do anything. Sway did the hard work.”

“You love him,” Emmy says simply, her smile growing.

I nod. “Yes, very much.”

“Then you did more than you realize.”

“I still can’t believe Asher punched you,” Izzy adds, sniffling and wiping her eyes and—thankfully—breaking up the heaviness of the conversation’s new path.

“He didn’t mean to,” I softly defend.

“He’s still in the hotseat with me anyway. I can’t believe he was going to punch Coop either.”

“It’s in the past. No sense in bringing it any attention.” I shrug, hoping Izzy isn’t too upset with Asher.

“Hard not to give it more attention with that shiner,” Melissa jokes, pointing toward me, earning laughs from everyone, myself included.

I finally understand what it must have felt for him when I did that. He was upset with me, but more concerned with if I was okay. I kept insisting I was, but when the bruising started getting worse, it only made him more upset and wishing it had been him instead of me. When I asked him why he couldn’t just drop it, he told me that he felt it eating his gut that I was hurt because of something meant for him. Using that logic for Emmy, I can’t imagine what it was like for her when she thought he was dead because of a bullet meant for her.

Well, shit.

I don’t regret it, but I hate that it caused him to fret.

“It was worth it,” I tell Emmy.

She nods, one side of her lips curling slightly. “I see that now.”

“We should make sure the two of them just stop stepping in front of harm,” Maddie jests.

They all laugh weakly, that is until they start to trail off. Each of them glancing up to the porch area. A few soft gasps have me turning in my seat to see what’s caught their attention.

Zeke stands there, phone in hand, and chest heaving like he just ran a mile. His eyes lock on mine, and he’s completely disregarding the large mass of females around me. I’m on my feet, walking over to the stairs, not taking my eyes off him once. The air grows heavy around me as I look at his handsome … but scared face.

“Honey?” I question, stepping into the space directly in front of him.

He reaches out and hands me his cell phone. With a slight shake to my hand, I reach out and take it. The text screen pulled up has a message from his brother.

Asher: Come over for dinner at 6. It’s gonna be okay.

“You didn’t answer him, honey?” I say softly, looking up at him from the phone. He looks worried right now. I hate that no one can do anything to change the way he feels. I get it, totally get it. He’s about to meet his grown man son that he just found out about. That would be a lot for anyone. Then add in the rest of our reasons for being here? He’s on emotional overload.

“I don’t know what to say, baby,” he responds so soft I have to strain to hear him.

“You tell him that you’ll be there at six.”

“We,” he oddly responds.

“I’m sorry?”

“You type,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “No matter what you say, though, make sure you say we will be there.”