Protecting Dallas

“Yeah, but twice?” asked Maddox. “So he moved into three places within eight months?”

I was still nodding, still remembering. The guys were communicating with each other silently, the way soldiers who spent a lot of time around each other often did. By looks. By expressions.

“I never heard him mention the guy’s name,” I said. “But Connor talked about his roommate sometimes. He said they were on the same assignment. They were permitted to live off base, but they spent a lot of time doing the same kinds of things.”

“He was onto him,” said Kane.

“What?”

“This guy Miller. Your brother wasn’t just in it for the shits and giggles, he was following this guy to keep an eye on him.”

I looked past him, scowling out at the house again. The anger had drained away with recollection, but the resentment was still there.

“Do you think this guy… is the reason…” I tightened my jaw. Swallowed the growing lump in my throat. “That Connor is dead?”

No one said anything. Finally, Austin nodded.

“One of them, yeah.”

It was all I needed. I popped open the car door and stepped outside.

“Then let’s go fuck his world up.”

Thirty-Two

DALLAS

I was halfway to the house when they finally caught up with me. I felt one hand on my wrist, and another on my shoulder.

I was surprised at how easy it was to wrench myself away.

“Dallas!”

It was a hiss and a scream at the same time. A command delivered sternly while trying to be silent.

“We can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” I screamed, whirling around. All three three of them jumped back a little, in surprise. It was oddly satisfying.

“If this guy knows we’re onto him, things will be even more difficult,” pleaded Austin. “And if—”

“She’s right.”

Everyone turned to face Kane, including me.

“Either this guy is dead,” said Kane, “or he’s not home. Either way, let’s go find something out.”

“And what if he is home?” Austin demanded.

Kane’s hands balled into two giant fists. “Even better.”

My heart swelled with love. Real love. The love you feel when you’ve been around someone long enough to know you want to be around them a hell of a lot more.

“Fine,” Maddox swore, scanning around. “Let’s get out of the fucking street at least.”

They moved again, this time past me, this time with purpose. And now they were moving like soldiers, too. It reminded me of the way they crept up in the alley.

Forgoing the front door, we made our way into the back yard. After examining every inch of a low window’s frame, Maddox took off his camo and began wrapping it around one hand.