The small smile I’d managed to coax from him falters.
“Bad things,” he says.
I shiver.
After a quick trip into the attached bath to clean up and wash my face, I come back to find Cal holding up the sheet for me. I crawl under the covers, sighing as he wraps his arms around me.
I’m about to drift off when I hear him whisper something. I only catch a small portion of his words, but it’s enough to keep me up for the next half hour, dreading the dawn.
“Whatever happens tomorrow, sweetheart, I’ll make sure you’re always taken care of.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Caleb
I drag myself out of the warm bed—and away from Holly—before five in the morning to shower. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna go anywhere near Russell King with the smell of my girl all over me. He could probably sniff her out like the hell hound he is.
Scrubbed clean and dressed for the day’s events, I head downstairs. Jonah’s sitting at the kitchen table cleaning two of his Glocks. Teagan’s there, too, fixing a pot of coffee.
“You’re up early,” I say to her.
She shoots me a grim smile. “Hard not to be when you’re worried your husband might not come home.”
“It’s gonna be fine, angel,” Jonah says.
Teagan fills a mug with coffee and sighs. “Cal, promise me you guys are going to be careful.”
“As careful as open-heart surgery.” I take the mug she offers me. Based on the level of fear in her eyes, I reckon Jonah either told her too much or not enough about our plans.
She pours a second cup, which she gives me to pass on to Jonah.
“Austin and Mike are on their way,” he says, nodding his thanks. He takes a long sip of the dark-roasted brew. “Holly up yet?”
“Nah, I let her sleep.”
“She’s going to want to say goodbye to you,” Teagan says.
“I’ll run up and see her before we head out.” To tell the truth, I’d just as soon let her sleep the day away. Having to say goodbye to her even temporarily is gonna rip my guts out. But I know she’d be hurt if I took off without a word.
I sit at the table and help Jonah finish putting the Glocks back together. Shortly after, Mike and Austin arrive in two black vans recently purchased by the contracting firm. Lucky for us, Austin had yet to take them in to have the Pope & Parkes logo slapped on the side.
Jonah and I head out to the driveway to meet the guys. Austin opens the back of the van he was driving, drags out a black duffel and unzips it to reveal two shotguns, a rifle, three handguns, plus a couple of hunting knives. I recognize a few of the guns from his collection. Right after Austin moved into his new country house, he invited the guys over for a barbecue and some target practice.
“Looks like someone missed the part of the discussion about avoiding casualties at all costs,” Jonah says.
Austin pulls a couple of boxes of ammo from the bag, not nearly enough to load even half the magazines and cylinders on display.
“Most of it’s for show,” he says. “But if shit flies south, I don’t want be a sitting duck with an empty pistol.”
“This is all good, man.” I clap Austin’s shoulder. “Mikey, what you got for me?”
Mike opens the back of the second van. He’s set up a makeshift surveillance station, complete with a metal desk and double monitors clamped in place with screws. There’s a transparent plastic tub that looks to be filled with dark-colored clothing, stacked on top of a few more plastic bins.
“We’ve got your standard-issue home-invasion couture,” Mike says, grabbing a pair of gloves from the tub. “Ski masks, hoodies, gloves. Pocket and shoulder holsters. I’ve got my laptop for satellite hacking and potential security workarounds. Radio comms for recon. Tactical binoculars with night vision. Flashlights and more zip ties than you could ever find use for, freaks among us notwithstanding.”
“Excellent work,” I tell Mike. “Where’d you get all this stuff?”
He shrugs. “I know a guy.”
“All right, then.” I turn to the rest of the group. “King’s mansion is in the middle of nowhere. Most fast-food spots have security cams, so we should probably pack some grub so we don’t have to stop along the way.”
“I’ve got that covered.” Austin hops into the back of the first van and comes out carrying a shiny green package with Portuguese writing on the front. “I bought a few dozen of these Brazilian Army minced-beef MRE rations off eBay last year.”
Mike flashes his brother an odd look. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“Why the hell not?”
The kitchen door whines. Holly, Teagan, and Burger emerge from the house. My baby girl’s thrown on one of the white tee shirts I packed, and is wearing it like a nightgown—a very sheer nightgown. I can definitely see her nipples through the fabric, which means the others can, too.