“True.”
“Two, Finn has already reached out and explained the situation to him.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Now, I’m going to shower. Go grab some breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day.”
I snort. “Will do, gramps.”
He’s laughing as I walk away. In the kitchen, I find Oliver and Finn, both looking well rested. Oliver pulls me into his arms, kissing me until a soft moan escapes my lips.
“How’s my girl doing today?”
“Good. Better now that I’m here with the two of you.”
Because seeing all of their smiling faces actually does make me feel better.
Finn says, “Sit. I made French toast.”
I sit, and he dishes up some food for me. This man can cook! I’m almost finished by the time Atticus strolls in.
“Woodcutter is waiting for us.”
Even though I’ve been told everything is okay, I’m still nervous. The four of us make our way to the garage, where we take a truck. It is, after all, Friday. The drive isn’t long, sadly, and my knee bounces the whole time. When Finn parks in front of Woodcutter’s townhouse, the door opens and the old man waits, a smile on his face.
I’m the last one out of the truck. Woodcutter eyes me as I climb the steps.
“How’s the shoulder?”
My cheeks are warm. “Better. You shot right through, so there wasn’t any debris left.”
He snorts. “Did that on purpose, since I figured Wolfe hired you. Come on in.”
This man’s attitude is completely opposite from the other night. Guess Atticus is right. It’s different being here with his permission. I follow him to the living room. Ironically, I would know where to go even if he wasn’t here, since I studied his floor plan. Oliver, Finn, and I sit on the couch while Atticus and Woodcutter take the chairs by the fireplace.
Woodcutter says to Atticus, “So it’s true? The bastard is back?”
“It’s true.”
“Hoped I was wrong when the girl broke in the other night.”
“About that. I’m sorry,” I say.
He waves a hand at me. “Water under the bridge.”
I hope he means it.
Woodcutter says, “I reached out to Midas. Didn’t know the fucker was out of the country. Married. Can you believe it?”
Finn snorts. “There must be something in the water. Hook has a wife now, too.”
“Ah. I heard about that. Has he found her?”
“Not yet. But he will.”
“Aye, he will. And Peters will find himself at the bottom of the lake.”
What kind of world do they live in where they can casually speak about someone dying? I’m intrigued more than I should be.