I’d endured this several times now, several times we’d named our children who’d never see the light of day.
We’d talked about the things they’d never do and the amount of gray they should have added to our hair…
While this wasn't the first time, it still hurt as much as if it were.
I clung to his hand as I turned my face away from him. “Jake can stay with Lena and Aidan.”
I didn’t tell him he could leave though.
He couldn’t.
I needed him.
And like always, when it mattered, he came through for me.
**this is a secure server**
Whistler: Got another target.
Eagle Eyes: Same.
Dead To Me: Against other sharpshooters?
Whistler: Yeah.
Eagle Eyes: Yup.
Dead To Me: Who the fuck is the target? I haven’t heard any chatter.
Whistler: Me either.
Eagle Eyes: Same.
Whistler: But whoever it is, the ECD wants them dead.
Eagle Eyes: That’s seven different sharpshooters all accounted for.
Dead To Me: At least we’re making the world a safer place.
Whistler: Is that a joke?
Dead To Me: Apparently not.
Whistler: Zero chatter from your handler, Eagle Eyes?
Eagle Eyes: Zero. Business as usual.
Whistler: This is getting fucking weird.
Eagle Eyes: Same.
Whistler: I haven’t been this busy since the war.
Eagle Eyes: Wish I could disagree but I can’t.
Whistler: My PTSD is flaring.
Dead To Me: Same.
Eagle Eyes: Yeah.
Whistler: Maybe this will be over soon enough.
Dead To Me: In our line of work, it’s never over.
Thirty-Two
Inessa
“What’s with the stick up your ass recently?”
Eoghan grunted. “Sassy.”
Grinning, I slipped my arms around his waist and peered around his bicep to look at him in the mirror.
Okay, I did more than peer.
I pretty much drooled as I took in his naked top half, and when I messed with the waistband of his shorts, he scowled at me.
“You trying to give me a boner?”
“Don’t have to try very hard, do I?” I retorted, watching the bulge in his pants grow with satisfaction.
“Shouldn’t be so sexy.”
“I didn’t technically do anything.”
“Apart from start playing with my shorts. That’s the green light if ever there was one.”
“I never said there was a stop light. Go and shower off the gunk and I’m all for you fucking me on the weight bench.”
“The weight bench?” He arched a brow. “We haven’t done that yet, have we?”
“Nope. Not since we broke the last one.” I tugged on his waistband again. “Anyway, we can do that after.”
“After, what? I shower?”
“Well, after your shower and after our conversation. Ya know, about why you’re all grouchy.
"I’m not sure if a guy who gets laid as much as you should really be so grouchy. There needs to be a law against it or something.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not grouchy.”
“Sure you are.” I tilted my head to the side. “Is it because I decided to go to college?”
“No,” he scoffed. “If anything, I’m glad about that. You’re too fucking smart to be drifting around these rooms like Bloody Mary just waiting to be invoked.”
“Wow. That’s really how you see me? An evil spirit just waiting to make people miserable?” I snorted. “Thanks, babe.”
I reached down and grabbed his junk. He didn’t flinch, and while I hadn’t really tried to hurt him, the threat had been there, and I was reminded once again of what my husband had gone through over the years.
I was looking at G.I. Joe in the flesh. Except his hurts weren’t sliced into plastic but flesh and bone, and his mind was… well, the nightmares had started up again.
Because he didn’t flinch or chide me, just carried on with his bicep curls, I let go of him and frowned. “Eoghan, you’re starting to worry me.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re being weird.”
The joys of marriage had come as a surprise to both of us, I knew. Victoria moving in had definitely been a curveball, but she was out at school a lot, and she spent most of her time in her room anyway.
Thank God we were filthy rich because our bedroom was at the other end of the hall to hers, and because Eoghan’s work was flexible, if he really wanted me to scream, we did that stuff through the day.
Adjustments were key.
We were going through that at the moment because of Finn and Aoife too.
Dealing with the aftermath of their loss was one thing, but Eoghan had been tense since we’d returned from Ireland.
“You’ve been acting strangely since we got home. What is it? What’s wrong?”
Finally, he looked at me, and though his face was the same, his eyes were…
I blinked.
They weren’t just cold.
They were frigid.
He never looked at me that way.
The instinctive response was to back off, but because this was Eoghan, and we’d already been forged in fire, if anything, I tightened my arms around him.
“You can tell me anything, babe. There’s nothing you’ve done or could do that would make me turn my back on you.”
His mouth twisted into a sneer. “That’s only because you don’t know the half of what I’ve done.”
“I know you were a sniper for the Forces. I know you’re The Whistler.” His muscles bunched at that. Obstinately, I stared him down, just prepared for him to argue with me. “I know what you are, Eoghan, and I love you anyway.
“I’m from the same world as you.” I placed my hand on his stomach, the flat of it settling against the divots of his abdomen. “I’m not afraid.”
“Maybe you should be,” he rumbled, his head angled down. “If I were you, I would be. I’m a fucking monster.”
“Where’s this coming from?” I whispered, not liking to hear him talk about himself that way.
My father was a monster.
Eoghan was not.
“It’s coming from nowhere,” he denied. “I need to shower. I got shit to do today.”
“You have to do me,” I pointed out, trying to tease him, but it didn’t work.
He didn’t laugh.
I let go of him, feeling the brush of that cold shoulder like it was a gust of wind from Siberia, and watched as he placed the dumbbells down on the bench.
He grabbed the disinfectant from the place where he kept it, and I watched him clean up everything we’d touched during our workout.
He was usually anal about being clean, but he left this stuff for the help.
Today, however, he didn’t, and I’d know—I watched him wipe every piece of equipment we’d used.
Eoghan even cleaned the damn disinfectant after he was finished, then he left the gym and me behind.
Not once had he looked at me since I’d slipped my arms around his waist.
Not once.
And seeing as I was wearing a sports bra that shaped my tits and biker shorts that made my ass look fine, that was confirmation right there that something funky was going on with my husband.