Staking His Claim (Line of Duty 5)

Explosion Rocks Lower Manhattan. Number of Casualties Unknown.

She had no idea how long she stood there, still as death, in front of the television, worst-case scenarios materializing in her head before she could stop them. Her brother…Matt…she replayed every minute she’d spent with them over the last few days until she realized tears were coursing down her cheeks.

A commercial break for toothpaste had finally snapped her out of her stupor. As soon as she’d lowered herself onto the couch, her cell phone started to ring. She’d fumbled to answer it, praying it was her brother. Matt didn’t even have her phone number. How ridiculous was that?

It had been Hayden calling.

“I’m home. I haven’t heard from Brent yet. Can you…come over and sit with me?”

Lucy had found herself in a cab, heading toward Queens, before she was even aware her feet were moving. Home. That was where she wanted to be. Not some giant, unfamiliar house in a neighborhood where nobody knew her name. Her soon-to-be sister-in-law had to be worried sick, much like herself. Twenty minutes later, she walked into the front door of her childhood home. The differences were startling since the last time she’d been there.

Accent walls? Sconces? When had that happened?

Hayden appeared in front of her, wringing her hands. “Brent redecorated. He said he wanted to chick-ify it for me.” She looked shell-shocked. “I’m marrying a man who dismantles bombs for a living. Am I a fucking lunatic or what?”

They both laughed, but it died just as quickly.

Lucy set her purse down. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“Tequila in the cabinet.”

She nodded and went to the kitchen. “Are you partaking?”

In an absent motion, Hayden smoothed a hand over her belly, but Lucy caught it. “No, I’m fine for now. You drink mine.”

Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat. She poured half a shot’s worth into a coffee mug, then changed her mind and poured another two fingers. When she walked into the living room, Hayden stood in front of the television, watching footage of the explosion being filmed by a circling helicopter. She looked so ready to buckle from tension that Lucy knew she needed a distraction. Hell, she desperately needed one herself.

“How are the wedding plans coming?”

Hayden looked at her blankly. “What?”

“If I know my brother, he probably wants a Mets theme. Blue and orange all the way. Hot dogs and beer at the reception…” Lucy took a bracing sip. “Instead of a priest, you can have an announcer pronounce you man and wife through a loudspeaker. Then Brent can throw out the first pitch.”

Hayden burst into tears.

“Shit.” She set down her mug of tequila and led Hayden toward the couch. “He’s going to be fine. Have you seen the guy? If a meteor fell out of the sky, it would bounce right off him.”

That got a watery laugh. “He didn’t eat breakfast this morning. I don’t know why that bothers me so much. Maybe because I’m the one who distracted him.” She swiped at her eyes. “He must have been starving right before it happened. That’s all I keep thinking.”

Lucy understood more than she knew. The scene with Matt played itself out in her head nonstop, ending the same way each time. His whispered denial when she tried to leave, that now-familiar haunted expression she still didn’t fully understand. Had she put him off his game, right before he headed into a dangerous situation? The possibility continued to gnaw at her gut until she couldn’t sit still any longer.

“Why don’t we go make Brent something to eat, so it’s ready when he gets here?”

Hayden nodded purposefully. “Yes.”

“What’s he eating these days?”

“What’s he not eating?”

They worked for a while in the kitchen until Lucy gently suggested an exhausted-looking Hayden go lie down. To Lucy’s surprise, she hadn’t protested, sweeping from the kitchen without another word. Lucy wandered back out to the living room, muting the television before it drove her insane. The silence and lack of distraction were a bad idea, because she had more time to think about Matt. Earlier today, she’d realized her feelings for him ran deeper than she’d expected. She hadn’t known the half. Losing him before she had that chance to peel away his layers. Oh God, if something happened to him…

A car pulled up in the driveway. Before she even knew her feet were moving, Lucy had flung the door open. Brent. He stood in the driveway looking weary and covered in filth, two butterfly bandages over his right eye and a white wrap circling his left forearm. Relief poured over her head like a bucket of sand that his injuries weren’t worse.

He dragged a bag of gear from the back seat and shut the door. “Hey, Luce.”

She swallowed hard. “Something wrong with your phone?”

“Actually, yeah. It exploded.”

“Oh.” She sniffed. “I hate it when that happens.”

Brent smirked, but his expression turned serious. “Could have been a lot worse. If we’d been inside a few seconds longer, they’d be fitting me for size extra-large wings about now.” He rubbed his forehead. “Only a handful of men injured, none dead.”

The pressure returned to her chest. “How did you get out in time?”

He sighed. “Let’s just say Matt picked a good time to start speaking up.”

“So he’s…okay?”

“Yeah. He was in the stairwell at the time…the safest place he could have been. Lucky fucker escaped with a couple of cuts.” Her brother glanced at her funny. Before he could say more, his eyes caught on something behind her. Or someone, rather. Lucy turned to find Hayden standing in the doorframe, wearing nothing but one of Brent’s king-size T-shirts that ended below her knees. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.

“Duchess, what did we say about going pants-less in public?”

“I’m wearing shorts.”

“Now there’s a shame.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Brent dropped his bag on the driveway. “What?”

“I’m pregnant and you almost got blown up, you ass,” Hayden said shakily. “I’m never speaking to you again.”

He went toward her slowly, laying a reverent hand on her belly. “There could be a mini-duchess in here?” His exhale sounded shaky. “Holy shit.”

Lucy shifted beside them, feeling like an interloper. This was a private moment and she didn’t belong there. She was starting to wonder if she belonged anywhere. Quietly, she slipped into the house to retrieve her purse, intending to take the train back to Manhattan. As she turned to leave, Brent walked through the door, carrying Hayden in his arms.

“Are you taking prenatal vitamins?”

“That’s your first question?”

“It got you talking to me, didn’t it?”

Hayden halted their progress by patting Brent on the shoulder. “Lucy, don’t go.”

“You heard the woman, I almost got blown up. That calls for a beer.” He drew Hayden a little closer. “Not for you. You get water.”