She might not survive it.
“Thank you,” Midas mostly said without growling. “I forgot myself.”
“No problem.” Bishop tensed like he expected more or worse from him. “We all want the same thing.”
“We’ll behave.” Hadley rested her hand on Bishop’s arm. “Thanks for checking us when we needed it.”
Shrugging like they had made him uncomfortable, Bishop ambled back to his corner.
“I’m doing that thing I do where I pretend everything is normal and okay even when I know it isn’t.” She pulled away from Midas. “I’m great at compartmentalizing. Fantastic, really. I can turn off messy emotions like a pro.”
From the first time she flinched away from him, he’d known she had been abused at some point in her life. He spent enough time around children of all ages who had rebounded from horrors that would shatter an adult to recognize the signs. He had also learned no good came from pressuring someone to share their past who wasn’t ready to give it voice, give it life.
The past changed how people viewed a person in the present, no matter how many promises were made beforehand, and the last thing people who had survived trauma wanted to see was their pain reflected in the eyes of their friends or loved ones.
“Everyone grieves differently.” He linked their hands. “No one will judge you.”
“When this is over…” She let the sentence die a slow death. “I have things to tell you.”
It was as if she had pulled his thoughts straight from his head, and he went very still.
“I can’t face it right now. Not with everything up in the air. I just…” She dug her nails into her palms. “I owe you my story. You told me yours, and I haven’t shared mine.”
“You don’t owe me anything. Ever.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I want to fill in the blanks instead of leaving you to do it for yourself. I want you to have the facts about me and not have to guess at them. I want you to know everything so that nothing ever surprises you. I want… I want one person in the whole world to know my story, and I want to be the one to tell it. To you.”
Drawing her against him, Midas rested his chin on top of her head and breathed her in. “Thank you.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
Twisting aside, he spotted Ares dressed in black fatigues. “Glad you could make it.”
Several of the others had shown up in their uniforms, dropping in as their work schedules allowed.
“What kind of friend do you think I am?” Her breath smelled strongly of coffee. “I wouldn’t miss this.”
Dark circles smudged the skin beneath her eyes, which were bloodshot. Her lips were cracked, and a line was worn in the skin of her brow from the frown she hadn’t shaken since the last time he saw her. Sleep continued to elude her, if the caffeinated twitch in her eyelid was any indication, but the yawns kept coming.
“I’m sorry, Hadley.” Ares clasped hands with her. “So sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Hadley hugged her. “I’m glad you came.”
Midas noticed her wife hadn’t joined her, but he could understand why. Liz must have stayed home with the baby to prevent him from melting down in public when Hadley was already stressed to the max. Too bad the timing hadn’t worked in his favor. Now he would have to put Ares on the spot about Amber.
“One of Liz’s patients was here earlier.” He infused apology into his voice. “Liz missed their appointment and isn’t returning her phone calls.” He hesitated. “How is Liz? The pregnancy is going well?”
“There have been recent complications, nothing too serious, but Liz took some time off work.” Ares kept bouncing her gaze from face to face, scanning the room as if counting heads. “With Baby Alex giving us a nightmare introduction to Parenting 101, she must have forgotten to cancel.” She returned her focus to his chin, as high as she dared look. “She never answers work calls when she’s on vacation. They all go to her answering service. I’ll let her know the calls aren’t being forwarded so she can put in a tech support ticket.”
The phone in Midas’s pocket vibrated, and he checked the display. “I need to take this.”
“I’m going to find the coffee.” She shooed him on. “Then I’m going to start a caffeine IV.”
“We got problems,” Ford said into his ear. “We’re missing a lot more than a single flashbang.”
After catching Hadley’s eye, he paced to a quiet corner of the room. “What do you mean?”
“The vault is short. I’m sending over the list so far. See if anything jumps out at you.” An old country tune played in the background, and horns blared. “There’s no telling who’s been skimming unless we get lucky and spot them on the security camera.”
The vault held surplus from the armory, which meant it got inventoried monthly versus nightly.
“Anyone with access to the vault has access to the surveillance room too.”
“That’s what I was thinking too.” Ford sighed. “Hey, is Ares there yet?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his jaw. “She looks ready to fall over. Need me to hold her until you get here?”
“Nah.” He paused. “I probably ought to keep my nose in my own business.”
As much as the pack loved gossip, Ford was more restrained than most. “What’s wrong?”
“I walked out with her, and Hank asked when Liz was coming home.” He sounded uncomfortable sharing what was meant to be a private conversation. “Last I heard, Liz was home with the baby, but Hank made it sound like Liz had been gone for a while. Any idea what’s going on there?”
A warning prickle slid down his spine. “What did she tell him?”
“She acted like she didn’t hear. Breezed right past him. I figure
