Lauren sent along her best attempt at a deescalating smile. “I do. I rarely go anywhere without one—but don’t worry, I’ll behave this time. I have a noble reason for being here.”
He listened to her explanation intently but looked unsure. “Well, I see. That being the case, I would very much prefer if you would relocate your artillery elsewhere. I’m not sure I feel comfortable having you in my home while armed to the teeth.”
“Dr. Vincent,” Lauren began softly, “I came to see my sister. I don’t plan on leaving until I do.”
The doctor fidgeted and rolled his eyes. “And where is your…cannon at the moment?”
Lauren lifted her shirt, exposing her waist and the Glock handgun nestled inside her waistband beneath her bellybutton.
“Oh my,” he reacted, rotating his head slowly back and forth. “It isn’t uncomfortable sporting it like so?”
“I barely notice it.”
“And will it stay there…tucked in your britches…for the duration of your visit?”
“Of course.”
“Might I have your word of honor on that?”
Lauren provided the good doctor with additional verbal bolstering to set his mind at ease, though it didn’t seem to do much good.
“Very well.” Still displaying reluctance, he motioned for her to follow.
Lauren stepped inside, pulled the front door closed, and tracked him across a room of ancient pine flooring to the farmhouse’s narrow staircase. They ascended, every wooden stair reporting each footstep with a squeak, then proceeded down the hall to the last door on the right.
Dr. Vincent knocked softly on the door before cracking it open, whispered inside, then shepherded Lauren in, the whole time watching her like a hawk. “And, ma’am, try to keep your visit short and sweet, if you would, please. She—or rather, your sister does need her rest.”
Lauren nodded. “You bet.”
Saying no more, the doctor smiled ineptly and crept out, securing the door.
Lauren strode to the bed, her eyes brimming at seeing her sister stare back at her.
Grace’s lips pouted their way into a smile. “Well, it’s about fucking time. Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”
“I’ve been…around. How are you feeling?” Lauren reached for Grace’s hand.
“All things considered? I don’t know…out of my skin, a little otherworldly…but very, very happy now that things are relatively back to normal.” Grace rolled her eyes. “Except they’re not, really. I’m still not allowed to go home yet, for whatever reason, which is pretty damn stupid, if you ask me.”
“They’re only doing what’s best for you and the baby, and they’ve done a decent job so far.”
“That’s debatable.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Lauren. “You’re alive and well, conscious, and your baby’s doing well.”
“You’re one to talk about ‘alive and well’, out there risking your life and doing crazy shit all over again.” Grace curled her lips in contrived disgust. “I mean, seriously, Lauren. What the flaming Norah is wrong with you?”
Lauren looked away. “A little bit of everything, I guess.”
Grace squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m kidding. Nothing’s wrong with you,” she said, now becoming unusually sentimental. “In fact, as near as I can figure, every damn thing about you is right as rain. In top form. Fighting fit.”
Lauren beamed at her, though not feeling the same.
“You did it again, you know. I don’t know how, but you did. You braved the odds. You grabbed some guns, went out there, and saved those girls.” Grace’s lower lip trembled. “And you saved my Christian, too. They were all completely screwed, and you just…saved them, the way you always do. You took a stand, made the choice to do something, and went after them. You’ve done this already so many times before, and you did it again—God, Lauren! Do you have any plausible concept as to how magnificent you are? You’re a first-class ticket…the best sister I could ever wish for.”
Lauren’s lips quivered. “I don’t think I would go that far.”
“Nuh-uh—let me talk, please. Remember my pickle? Pregnant, emotional, a little psychotic and cuckoo? I’m dangerous. I could snap and go off my rocker at any time. It’s Grace, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Good. Best you don’t forget it,” Grace said. “I don’t know how you did it, and I don’t want to know. You just have this…way about you. If it weren’t for you, so many people would be lost, myself included. But you know how to fix things, how to get things done. When bad stuff happens, you step up, rise to the occasion, and play the hero. And I love you for that. I love you so much, Lauren. I don’t know how I ever lucked out to be worthy enough to have a sister like you. Thank you so much for bringing Christian back.”
A tear slipped out of Lauren’s eye. “If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have found anyone. I can’t take all the credit.”
“And if it weren’t for you being who you are and knowing what you know, those girls would’ve never made it home. You don’t have to take credit, just know that I’m proud of you and eternally thankful.” A pause. “Christian told me what you did. He said you spared one of the agents. Can you tell me why?”
“Because he spared me.”
“Why the hell did he do that?”
Lauren chuckled. “I think he was having second thoughts about the path his life was taking.”
“Uh-huh, I get that,” said Grace. “I think that happens to a lot of us.” She paused, frowning. “I’m really sorry about John. I’m sorry about Norman, too. They were family, and you and John always had something special, even when you were young. That couldn’t have been easy on you.”
Lauren rolled her lips together. “It wasn’t, and isn’t. I love him and still do. I always will.”
“I understand fully. It felt like I was losing my mind while Christian was gone. When I saw his face again, it was like getting my life back.” Grace squeezed Lauren’s hand again. “I’m not
