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time that was being wasted but also the jet fuel. I was sure, though, that if there were any kind of loophole in Buckā€™s fatherā€™s will, Hammer wouldā€™ve found it.

I sent a text to Flynn when we agreed to call it a night. She probably already knew about her brother, but Iā€™d tell her anyway, just in case she didnā€™t.

Heard Buck and Stella are on their way back, I wrote.

Me too. So relieved, she responded.

I sat and stared at the phone, not knowing what else to say. I was relieved when I saw the marching dots indicating she was writing another message.

Want some company?

More than anything.

32

Flynn

When I drove up to the cabin and saw Paxon sitting on the porch swing, I smiled. Iā€™d hoped that was where heā€™d be.

I parked, and he stood and waited while I grabbed something from the passenger seat.

ā€œWhatā€™s this?ā€ he asked when I handed him the bag.

ā€œDessert.ā€

ā€œWow. Youā€™re spoiling me.ā€

ā€œSomeone should.ā€

With those words, his eyes met mine. ā€œThank you, Flynn. Itā€™s been a long time sinceā€¦ā€

ā€œSince what?ā€

ā€œI donā€™t want to make it sound like Cope, Decker, and the other guys on my detail havenā€™t taken care of me. Each one has risked their life for mine.ā€ He held up the bag. ā€œThis isā€¦different.ā€

ā€œI can promise you I did not risk my life making peach cobbler.ā€ I smiled, and so did he.

ā€œIt means a lot.ā€

ā€œWanna share it?ā€ I asked, knowing Iā€™d brought plenty for two.

ā€œIā€™d love that.ā€

I stopped him when he went to go inside. ā€œEverything we need is in that bag.ā€

He pulled out two napkins, forks, spoons, and the cobbler. ā€œItā€™s still warm.ā€

ā€œWhich means the ice cream on top is probably melted.ā€

He opened the lid and breathed in. ā€œIt smells so good.ā€

ā€œLetā€™s hope it tastes good too.ā€

We sat on the swing and dug in with our spoons.

ā€œI ate almost all of it,ā€ Paxon said, pointing to the two or three bites that were left.

ā€œI only wanted a taste anyway.ā€

ā€œNow I feel bad.ā€

I laughed and stood when he did. ā€œDonā€™t waste the energy.ā€ Iā€™m not sure what possessed me to do it, but I put my hand on his arm, reached up, and kissed his cheek.

The reaction I got couldnā€™t have been worse.

33

Irish

My only explanation was that Flynn had caught me off guard. When she kissed my cheek, instead of kissing her back or even smiling, I took an abrupt step backwards.

ā€œSorry,ā€ she mumbled as she ran down the porch steps and over to her truck. She was inside, with the engine started, before I came out of my stupor enough to go after her. By then, it was too late.

When Cope texted me the next day, shortly after daylight, asking if I was ready to get to work, I told him I wanted to be on my own this morning. When Decker knocked on the door shortly thereafter, I told him to go the fuck away.

ā€œOpen up, Irish. You know if you donā€™t, Iā€™ll come in anyway.ā€

ā€œDo you have no respect for personal space?ā€ I asked, flinging the door open.

ā€œNone whatsoever.ā€ Instead of coming inside, he stood on the porch. ā€œWeā€™re going to work at the other cabin this morning. That way, Ali wonā€™t be on her own all day.ā€

ā€œGo right ahead. I can get just as much done from here.ā€

ā€œKnock it off. Whatever happened, get over it, and get your ass next door.ā€

I didnā€™t remember much about my father. I wasnā€™t even in double digits when he died, but the tone of Deckerā€™s voice sent me straight back to being a little kid. Instead of arguing with him, I grabbed my laptop and followed him next door. It didnā€™t dawn on me until we were walking that heā€™d realized ā€œsomethingā€ had, in fact, happened. That made me feel more like a child.

Ali opened the door, and instead of stepping aside so we could both come in, she only let Decker pass.

ā€œYou need a hug.ā€ She stepped closer and embraced me.

ā€œYeah? How can you tell?ā€

She let go and cocked her head. ā€œHonestly, Irish, I think you need one every time I see you.ā€

I put my hands on her shoulders. ā€œHow are you feeling?ā€

ā€œMorning sickness sucks donkey balls.ā€ She rubbed her stomach. ā€œBut itā€™s so worth it.ā€

ā€œI donā€™t really know what questions to ask.ā€

Ali laughed. ā€œIā€™m about eight weeks along. We werenā€™t trying, but we werenā€™t not trying, if that makes sense.ā€

Being of Irish descent, my skin was pale, which meant I flushed easily, as I was now.

ā€œIā€™ll stop embarrassing you. Cope has been digging into this Xander thing since last night.ā€ She motioned to where he sat at the table, head propped on his hand.

ā€œDid he sleep?ā€

ā€œNot that I know of.ā€

ā€œHey,ā€ I said, walking over and squeezing his shoulder. ā€œFind anything?ā€

ā€œProbably nothing more than you did. Hereā€™s what I donā€™t get. Whatā€™s with ā€˜Xanderā€™? His middle name is Clark. William Clark Harris.ā€

I hadnā€™t given it any thought, but as soon as Cope said it, I had a guess. ā€œAlexander the Great.ā€

Decker raised his head. ā€œThe defender of the Argead.ā€

ā€œOr it isnā€™t related at all,ā€ Cope grumbled.

ā€œIt is. Iā€™m sure of it,ā€ said Decker. ā€œThere wasnā€™t time for a briefing, but Iā€¦uhā€¦have a recording of Stella and Kerrā€™s conversation.ā€

It was Deckerā€™s hesitation that made me raise my head. ā€œShe was wired?ā€

More than his hesitation, the flush of his cheeks told me that Stella hadnā€™t been aware she was. Now wasnā€™t the time for me to get high and mighty about it. In fact, thereā€™d never be a time for me to question Deckerā€™s means or motives. I trusted him, and heā€™d kept me alive. Not just me, countless other agents. I would never doubt his intentions were for the greater good of just thatā€”the good. Like everyone Iā€™d worked with on the Invinciblesā€™ team, I believed their agenda was the same as mine: to rid the world of as much of the evil we could as long as we walked the face of it.

What we heard was similar to what Burns had

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