His eyes widened. “No. We need to talk. People are going to know the truth soon, and I want you to know first.”
After Seth and Logan. After Nate and Cam. After Georgia. Probably some other people. She was far down on Henry’s need-to-know list. “I need time to think. I won’t go anywhere, and I won’t lock you out. But I need a couple of hours before I’m ready to talk to you. Please go with Max and Rye. Give me some space.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. If I go with them, I’ll end up talking to them. See. That’s one way I’m not the man I was. I’ll be too tempted to talk to them, and I owe you the truth first.”
She’d asked nicely. She’d told him what she needed, and now it was time to assert herself. Did he think she’d forgotten how to do this? She’d simply never had to do it with him. She walked to the door and flung it open as Rye and Max were about to get into their truck.
“What are you doing?” Henry moved in behind her, tugging his shirt over his head.
“Helping you out, dear.” She stepped on the porch. “Max, Rye, Henry is going to come with you. He needs some advice about how to tell his wife that he lied to her about his whole past and he’s some kind of superspy who likes to assassinate people. He killed a man today at the Feed Store Church, but it’s okay because he’s got law enforcement on his side. So take him away before I go back on my vow of nonviolence.”
Rye threw his head back and laughed. “That’s a good one.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Henry stared down at her.
She stared right back. She hadn’t been intimidated when threatened with guns or Tasers, and she’d had her fair share of pepper spray to the eyes. She wasn’t going to allow her husband to intimidate her. “You had a problem. I solved it. Now everyone will know and you don’t have to worry.”
Rye was still laughing, but Max put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I don’t think she’s kidding, brother.”
Henry wasn’t even looking their way. “This is not how I wanted it to go.”
That was so sad for him. “Do you not get to control the narrative this way? I’ll be honest. I don’t care how you wanted this to go down. You can go with Max and Rye or you can go on your own, but I need a few hours alone. If you don’t give them to me, I’ll pack a bag and leave.”
She would almost have sworn she heard a growl coming from her husband.
“Or I can pick you up and take you back inside.”
She faced him down. “And then you better hope you don’t sleep, Henry. Or Bishop. Or whoever you are.”
“You know exactly who I am. I’m your husband and I love you.” He backed off slightly. “I’ll go with them, but I swear, Nell, don’t try to leave. It’s dangerous and I’ll find you.”
She wasn’t stupid. If anyone was going to leave, it would be him. This was her cabin. Sure he’d been the one to restore it. He’d been the one who’d learned how to keep up the chinking and make the place safer and warmer in the winter. He’d put the shop together with his own two hands. But this was her home.
She had to figure out what she wanted.
She heard him stalk down the steps.
Nell walked back into the cabin and closed the door. When she heard the truck drive away, she was finally alone.
And finally able to cry.
* * * *
“Henry, I would like to point out that it was Max who was supposed to return all those tools he borrowed from you. I only borrowed that set of wrenches once, and I returned them quickly.” Rye Harper kept a careful distance from Henry. Since they’d gotten to the Harper Stables and Henry had made it plain that he was absolutely going to fix the barn door and anyone who tried to stop him was in trouble, Rye had watched him carefully.
Rye was scared of him. Good for fucking Rye because everyone should be afraid of him right now. He was angry. Brutally angry. Angry at himself. Angry at the fucking cartel that couldn’t stay away. Angry at the world because Nell was supposed to be his reward. After everything he’d gone through there should be a fucking reward, and she shouldn’t be able to change her mind because she’d found out he wasn’t perfect.
She’d seen him kill a man. She might never look at him the same way again.
He pulled the old latch off with far more strength than he needed to use and it went flying across the yard, barely missing Rye, who jumped out of the way.
“Sorry.” He wasn’t really sorry. There was still a part of him that thought if Max and Rye hadn’t shown up, he would have found a way to get through to his wife.
“No problem.” Rye gave him the same slow nod a man might give a hungry grizzly bear who was slowly walking past him. Nothing to see here, mighty predator. Just walk on by.
Max merely rolled his eyes. “It’s Henry, Rye. Stop acting like we’re in the presence of a serial killer. He’s Henry Flanders, and if he was going to kill me, he would have done it a long time ago. Hey, Henry, you going to teach me that neck thing you do? I got a couple of people I could use it on.”
At least Max was still Max. He’d taken the whole thing with a shrug and asked Henry if he needed a beer—which he’d turned down. Nell couldn’t drink so he shouldn’t either. Even though if he could ever have found solace in a bottle of Scotch, it would be
