“Why?” She whispered.
“Because your brother desperately wants to know what happened to you.”
The sound of a dull thud and the vibration of the floor through Nolan’s boots worried him. Despite his concern, he took the chance to shift in his chair and make some adjustments to his bonds. Meanwhile he asked Jace, “Is she okay?”
“Shut your fucking mouth until we ask you questions,” he snapped at Nolan. Possessive enough that he was probably her lover. Yet he was so gentle it tugged at Nolan’s heart when he murmured to Laurel, “I’ll knock him out again right now. We can get in another cab and drive him somewhere far away, and you’ll never have to deal with this if you don’t want to.”
Ah, now that was his kind of romantic.
“But what if I do?” Laurel’s voice cracked. For a moment there was near silence interrupted only by the swish of fabric, making Nolan sure Jace was rocking her as he consoled her. His fingers clenched on the arms of the chair as he wished he could do the same.
Maybe for both herandJace.
This was why he worked for the Shields in the first place. To make a difference in the lives of people like them who’d fallen through the cracks of an imperfect system. Victims who fell prey to assholes with enough money to corrupt. Dickheads with power they didn’t deserve. He preferred to work on missions like these, where they were in time to improve the situation. Though if they weren’t, he had no problem delivering justice instead.
Nolan held perfectly still when light, tentative steps approached. He didn’t dare breathe to keep from spooking Laurel.
Her fingers were deft yet gentle as they slid the blindfold from his eyes and even paused to fix his hair, combing the front highlighted bits into their trademark swoosh before running them down the shorter sections at his temple as he so often did. He blinked into the buttery light of a miniscule, worn and dated, but spotless kitchen. “Thank you.”
It said a lot about her, and how much better she was than the people who’d wrecked her childhood. Nolan fought the urge to lean forward and show his appreciation with a quick peck on the cheek. He didn’t want to add a black eye from Jace to his already throbbing face.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth? Maybe I don’t even have a brother, huh?” She talked tough, but he could see the longing in her eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to give her what solace he could. Since he figured drawing her into his lap and attempting to mollify her by banding his arms around her in a protective hug would only result in her boot in his crotch…again…he stuck to his original strategy.
“James would be very hurt to hear you say that.” Nolan winced, thankful he didn’t have his comms engaged at the moment. He hadn’t expected Laurel to trot past him the moment he’d arrived at Heels. No excuses, though. He was certain when he got back to the office Jordan was going to tear him a new one for not adhering to protocol and doing it before he’d stepped on site. That guy was not the sort of boss you wanted unhappy with your job performance either.
Laurel’s jaw dropped open. Her gaze winged to Jace, who nodded slowly before saying, “Let’s hear him out.”
Nolan figured he was going to have to work extra hard since both of them rightfully questioned everything and didn’t trust worth a damn. At least when it came to confronting strangers, it seemed like their bond was plenty strong. Must be nice.
For the millionth time since Nolan had met Laurel’s brother, he wondered what it would be like to be in the sort of relationship the guy had with his husband and wife. Or one like Jordan had with his spouses—unwavering, fully committed, and hella hot. Nolan had been low-key obsessed with Laurel from the moment he’d seen the drawing of her, and watching her with Jace now wasn’t dampening any of his curiosity. Something about them pulled him to the edge of his seat. Of course, these were the two last people in the world that he should be letting pique his interest. He knew enough about their history to realize that his purpose was to shelter them, not to mack on them.
Nolan reined in his inner horndog even if, for some reason, they made it harder than any other victims he’d ever interacted with.
He’d made a terrible first impression, practically mauled an abuse survivor, and didn’t doubt for one second that they had some sort of intense yet dysfunctional relationship going already. The looks they shared were full of love, and angst, and far more drama than he preferred from the people he hung with. And yet…
He wished he could forget all this bullshit and help them hash out whatever was off between them. Huh. He shook his head and returned his concentration to his mission.
“Yeah, you should. I mean, if I was planning to hurt you or scam you or some shit, would I still be sitting here shooting the shit with you even though I untied myself from this chair like five minutes ago?” Nolan shrugged, then slowly, very slowly, brought his open hands around to rest in his lap.
Jace’s eyes went wide and Laurel took a step back. Jace angled himself so that he was between Nolan and Laurel.
They were so cute thinking they could detain him. Or keep him as their prisoner.
Well, shit, they were smoking, period, now that he got a good look at them side by side. Laurel he’d known would be a stunner from the moment he’d spied the artist’s age-up of her. But her roomie—because the pictures of them magneted to the fridge proclaimed this was their joint apartment—could melt the snow that had started falling outside with just one look. He was defiant, rough around the edges, and obviously a loyal companion even if he made shitastic decisions.
For effect, and because his balls still ached, Nolan settled one ankle on the opposite knee. They really needed to work on their knot tying skills if they were going to truss up their guests in the future. He’d love to show them how sometime, if they were ever up for it.
“So you’re what? Some kind of private investigator? Or a super spy or something?” Jace asked, making Nolan grin.
“That sounds a lot cooler than what I actually do for the Shields.” Probably he shouldn’t mention how efficiently they took out targets or that they were kind of into vigilante justice. “Her brother, though, he’s legendary. Made our whole office his bitch in a matter of weeks. Everyone loves James. And he misses you. Is worried about you, Laurel. I could call him for you so you can talk to him directly.”
Laurel’s lower lip wobbled for a moment before she drew herself up tall again. “I wouldn’t recognize the sound of his voice today. It’s probably different than when he was eight. If you really know James, then I’m sure you’re aware I haven’t spoken to him in decades.”
“Well, quiz me then. I know him decently well.” Nolan hoped he was up to the challenge. He thought back on the late nights they’d spent in the office while prepping for operations or the times he’d chilled with James, his spouses, and the rest of the Powertools crew off the clock.
Laurel tapped her chin for a second, then smiled. “Who was his favorite comic book character?”
“Easy. Still his idol. Robin.” Nolan’s grin spread slowly as he thought about the stories James had told and how he compared his work with the Shields to his childhood aspirations.