This scene takes place right after the Epilogue for On His Six.
Wren
The green dress flares around my wrists, hiding the welts from the plastic zip ties. I touch shaking fingers to the still-reddened skin around my neck. After Blondie leashed me with my own satchel, I can’t stand the sensation of anything around my throat, but I don’t want to show up at West and Cam’s wedding looking like a punching bag. I tried a scarf, but that just sent me into a panic. Instead, I used half a bottle of concealer—or at least it feels that way.
“Almost ready, little bird?” Ryker comes up behind me, his large palms stroking gently down my arms. “You look…”
“Like I got hit by a bus?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Wren,” he murmurs with his lips against the shell of my ear. “I was going to say ‘magnificent.’”
“You really do remember everything, don’t you?” What feels like years ago but was really only about two weeks, I said the same words to him.
“Where you’re concerned? Yes.” He takes two steps back as I wriggle out of his arms, then runs a hand over his freshly shaved head. “I don’t do weddings,” he says quietly. “I don’t know how to…socialize.”
“This is your family, Ry.” I cup his jaw, running my thumb over his cheek. “They know you don’t do small talk. Cam and West just want you there with them.”
“Are you sure about this? Really sure? We could stay in.”
My anxiety has been on overdrive all day, but this is bigger than me. Bigger than us. In the end, it only takes a minute of my pointed stare for him to relent.
“Okay. We’ll go. But you’re doing all the talking.”
* * *
Ryker
My little bird’s too scared to let herself fly. She huddles in the seat of my truck, her shoulders curving inward, and she keeps checking her reflection in the mirror, tipping her chin, checking to see how visible her bruises are.
I see them. But then again, I’m hyper aware of everything where she’s concerned.
“Relax, sweetheart. You’re beautiful.” I almost tell her West and Inara know exactly what she went through, but stop myself. It’s one of those relationship rules. Be supportive.
“I suppose they saw me at my worst,” she says quietly. “Naked, high.”
“You weren’t high. Not when you escaped. You were exhausted, sick, and starved.” It takes everything I have to keep my voice level. She still cries in the middle of the night, and I can’t take her nightmares away.
I killed the man who hurt her. Or…I helped. Inara fired the fatal shot. But that doesn’t take away Wren’s fear. Her memories. She still remembers how it felt to be high on heroin. To not care about anything. To be able to escape her anxiety and just…float.
“Say it, Wren. I need you to say it.”
“We’re real.” She reaches over and rests her hand on my thigh. “I’m okay, Ry. It was a good day. Until I had to get dressed and look in a mirror. I’m not that vain. Or…I didn’t think I was. I guess I was wrong.”
I rub my fingers over my bald head. Scars decorate one whole side of my face, going so far as to make one of my eyelids open a little less than the other. And that’s nothing compared to the rest of my body.
Broken is beautiful. Wren taught me that. We’re all broken in different ways. I need to find a way to remind her.
* * *
Libations is tucked in a corner of Pioneer Square, a Closed for a Private Event sign on the window. I hold the door open for Wren, and she ducks inside. “Oh,” she breathes.
Every table has a pair of daisies in a tall vase, all different colors. Red and white lights give the bar a romantic glow, reflecting off the various bottles of spirits. A man with ink winding up his arms wears a black shirt rolled up to his elbows, a red tie, and black pants, and a woman with blond hair, several facial piercings, and easily as many tattoos is at his side.
“Ryker and Wren?” the man says as he ambles over and extends a hand. “I’m Garrett.”
I nod. “You served with West?”
“Not exactly. But we crossed paths a number of times.” He slaps his thigh. “Until I lost my leg. Reconnected once he moved to Seattle at a VA event. This is Ro, my best bartender.”
The blond cracks a smile. “Nice to meet you. Can I get you something before the ceremony?”
As Ro mixes drinks, a tall woman with long red curls sidles up to Garrett. He plants a kiss on her cheek. “This is Lilah, my fiancée.”
Wren is still pressed to my side, but soon, she and Lilah are chatting about hairdressers. Something about red curly hair making it difficult to find someone to trust.
Why did we get here so early? A handful of other people mill about, standing in small groups, chatting, but I don’t know any of them. Must be West’s instructors from the dojo or Cam’s coworkers.
I don’t do social.
The door opens, and Inara practically glides in, Royce two steps behind her. Thank God. At least I won’t have to stand here alone.
“I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to show,” Inara says.
“Ryker.” Royce holds out his hand, and I shake it as he gives me a hard stare. We had a few words before I left for Boston, and I should probably apologize. Inara and I started making our peace while searching for Wren, but Royce…he’s every bit as protective of Inara as I am of my little bird, and I understand now. How badly I fucked up.
“Got a minute?” As Ro hands us both drinks—a Manhattan for Royce and a Pilsner for me, I angle my head to the far wall where it’s a little quieter. He follows, and I take a long swig of beer, trying to figure out what to say. Start with something simple. “I get it.”
“What?” He arches a brow, though the movement highlights the slight bit of paralysis he’ll have for the rest of his life from a stroke during brain surgery.
Should have figured he wouldn’t let me off that easily. “Why you were pissed at me. Why I deserved it.”
“Do you n-now?” He rubs a hand over his mouth. “Underst-standing and making it right are t-two different things.”
“I know. I owe you an apology. For how I acted at the warehouse. “I’m working on squaring things with Inara. Not something I can do in a day, but we’ll get there.”
Royce nods. “She told me.” He searches her out across the room. “The t-two of you are a lot alike. Probably why you work so well together. But it also means she doesn’t know how to tell you when you fuck up.”
“Yeah, but you can.”
“Damn straight. And I will, too.” His lopsided smile holds less tension now, and when Inara and Wren join us, I think…maybe this family thing isn’t so bad.
* * *
Garrett, standing in front of the bar, taps a glass with a fork. Cam and West stand next to him. I barely recognize the frogman in a suit. And Cam…we’ve only met a couple of times. But they both look…nervous and happy at the same time.
“These two didn’t want a formal ceremony,” Garrett says, his southern drawl thicker in front of the small gathering than it had been earlier. “I had to promise them I’d be quick about it.” A few people chuckle around us, and Garrett continues. “I need Royce, Inara, Ryker, Wren, and Graham to come up here, please.”
I glance down at my little bird, and she’s as confused as I am, but she takes my arm and we weave through the tables until we’re at the edge of the little group. Graham looks as uncomfortable as I feel.
Garrett urges us all to form a circle behind West and Cam, then turns with his back to the rest of the crowd. “Usually, the couple each picks one person to stand up with them. But Cam and West came to me yesterday and asked to switch things up a little bit. Family,” Garrett says, “isn’t always something you’re born into. It’s something you make. Through friendships, shared experiences, and hardship. Everyone around them today is family. The family they’ve chosen for themselves.”
The lump in my throat threatens to choke me, and I wrap my arm around Wren a little tighter, needing her warmth, her strength.
“Camilla Delgado, do you take Westley Sampson to be your husband? To support him as he supports you, to share your life with him, and to forgive him when he screws up?”
Cam laughs and reaches up to cup West’s cheek. “I do.”
“And Westley—seriously, your name is actually Westley?—Sampson?” Garrett asks. “Do you take Camilla Delgado to be your wife? To support her as she supports you, to share your life with her, and to forgive her when she forgets she’s not alone anymore?”
“I do. And if any of you ever call me Westley,” he says, glancing back at us, “I’ll kick your asses.”
“Last question,” Garrett says. “But this one’s for everyone behind Cam and West. Families rely on one another. They don’t run. They don’t lie. They don’t keep secrets. They love and support one another no matter what. Do you all agree and accept Cam and West—and one another—into this new family?”
Fuck. West meets my gaze, and I know I have to be the first one to say it out loud. I owe him that and so much more. “I do,” I say. The words escape hoarse and almost a whisper, so I clear my throat and try again. “Yeah. I do. Family. Always.”
One by one, everyone else echoes my sentiment. Even Graham.
“Well, that’s good enough for me.” With a big grin, Garrett claps them on the shoulders lightly. “I declare you married. Now kiss and let’s get this party started.”
West sweeps Cam into his arms and when they don’t come up for air after five seconds, the cheers and whistles start.
Wren rises up onto her toes so she can whisper…well, not in my ear, but at my shoulder, at least. “I told you so.”
I lean down so we’re almost at eye level, and the love reflected back at me…I never thought anyone could look at me that way. But for Wren, it’s just who she is. I’m so fucking lucky to have her in my life. And seeing her happy, seeing the tears shining in her eyes, I think…maybe we’ll have another wedding in this new little family soon. “What, sweetheart?”
“You learned how to care.”
* * *
This scene takes place two weeks after Wren and Ryker return to Seattle after the events in Russia.
Ryker
Two weeks. We’ve been back in Seattle for two weeks, and I’m about to crawl out of my skin if we don’t catch a job soon. At the same time, the idea of leaving Wren—even for a night or two—fills me with dread.
Ford—Dax’s second in command—has been watching her old apartment in Boston, and no one’s come looking for her. But I still paid Emerald City Security a handsome fee to upgrade the cameras around my condo and install panic buttons in each room. Wren protested—her exact words were, “This is ridiculous”—but if anything happens to her, I won’t survive.
“You’re staying in?” I ask as I sling my training bag over my shoulder.
She peers up at me, her laptop balanced on her knees from where she’s curled on my—our—black leather sofa. “Cam’s coming over. She said something about getting me drunk so she could convince me to leave Second Sight to come work for her.” Wren’s jade green eyes dance with amusement as she reaches for my hand and twines our fingers. “Kidding. She’s bringing her Xbox. Apparently I’m going to learn how to play Halo.”
“Promise me—”
“Ry.” Setting her laptop aside, she shifts up to her knees, the back of the couch between us. “I’m safe. Kolya’s dead. No one’s coming after me. And you can’t be with me every time I leave the condo.”
She stops me with two fingers to my lips before I can protest. The scent of honeysuckle surrounds me, and if I didn’t need to burn off all this nervous energy and get my team back together, I’d have her on her back, naked, in under a minute.
“This is part of learning how to care,” she says. “I promise I’m not going anywhere tonight. But tomorrow, I have to open a new bank account and get my hair cut. And I’m doing both of those things alone.”
She’s right. I know she is. And one of these days, I’ll have to leave on another job. “Be patient with me, baby. I’m…trying.”
“I know.” Sliding her arms around my neck, she pulls me down for a kiss. As she traces the seam of my lips, I part for her, my tongue dancing over hers as every part of me aches to claim the woman who taught me how beautiful broken could be.
Her nipples tighten, the hard peaks pressing against my chest through her MIT sweatshirt. “Go,” she says on a breathy moan as she sinks back down. “Or the only workout you’ll get tonight is in bed.”
I let a lock of her hair slide through my fingers as I take one step back, then another. “I’ll have my second wind by the time I get back, baby. I promise.”
* * *
West, Inara, and Graham are all waiting for me when I amble into the warehouse a little after seven. “About time you showed up,” West says.
“Looking a little crispy, frogman. Never heard of sunscreen? I thought SEALs had some experience on beaches.” West and Cam took a seven day honeymoon in Costa Rica, and his cheeks and arms are more than a little sunburned.
The three stare at me, open-mouthed, as I stow my motorcycle helmet and bag in my locker and strip off my jacket.
“Did you just engage in frivolous conversation?” Inara asks. With a worried glance at West, she lowers her voice. “We should call Wren. Tell her there’s something wrong with Ry.”
“Shut it. Both of you.” I level a gaze at them, and they try to hide their smiles.
Graham clears his throat. “Is this one of those ‘new-guy’ things I’m not supposed to understand?”
“Wren’s good for him.” Inara cracks the seal on a bottle of water. “Now who’s going to race me to the top of the climbing wall?”
* * *
Two hours later, Inara pins West to the mat in the ring, and I call an end to the training session. “Team meeting.” I gesture to the table next to the kitchenette and wait for the three of them to take their seats.
“When I started Hidden Agenda, I didn’t have any attachments. Hell, I didn’t care about anything. Except saving people. I didn’t hire anyone who wasn’t single. This is a dangerous fucking job. When we go out there, there’s a chance we might not come home.”
Everyone nods, the air around us suddenly heavy.
“Then West went off and had to get married.” I shake my head, then turn to Inara. “You’re living with Royce. And Wren’s it for me.” I level a gaze at the newest member of our team. “Graham, I know I said no attachments when I hired you. But now’s the time to tell me if you have a girlfriend you never told me about.”
The kid looks vaguely uncomfortable, and I sigh. “Spill it. What’s her name?”
“Sir? I’m gay.”
“His name, then.”
Shock widens his pale blue eyes. “I don’t have a boyfriend, sir. You don’t care? That I’m gay?”
“Some reason I should?” When he shakes his head, I brace my palms on the table and continue. “For six years, I’ve picked the jobs. Never cared how dangerous they were. Didn’t think anyone would care if I didn’t come home.”
“Ry—” Inara’s protest dies in her throat when I hold up a hand.
“Starting now, we only take on jobs when everyone agrees there’s a high likelihood we’ll come home alive. Second Sight out in Boston has a few unattached former military who might be willing to handle some of the messier jobs until I can recruit another three or four people to join us here. We’ve been lucky. Six years, only one fuck-up.” I can’t say Coop’s name. The emotions are still too raw. “If you know anyone you think would fit in here, send them my way. Next training session is in three days.” Striding towards the lockers, I stop halfway across the room and turn back to the stunned group still sitting at the table, my lips twitching in what I think might be a smile. “Good work tonight. All of you.”