“I indirectly put your woman in danger, Raid. This shit is on me,” Knight stated.

“I don’t wanna go over what we’ve gone over time and a-fuckin’-gain the last three weeks either, but I will repeat what I’ve said a hundred goddamned times. That’s bullshit.” Raid’s eyes grew sharp on Knight and his voice got rough. “I. Want. Nair.”

“We do that, we have to do it in a way that it’s permanent,” Knight replied. “That requires planning.”

“Think we proved about ten hours ago not a one of us has got a problem with a permanent solution to a problem,” Deacon reminded them.

The men fell silent.

Knight broke it. “I need to understand what my brother’s involvement is, Raid. I know you get that.”

“Yeah. I do. So find the fuck out and let me loose on Nair,” Raid shot back.

“I’ll take care of Nair,” Knight returned.

“I get he’s fucked with you, and God forbid he reaches out to Anya, Kat or Kasha, then you can have him. But until you come home to find someone you love lyin’ unconscious in her own blood, I got dibs.”

Knight held Raid’s eyes.

Then he jerked up his chin, saying, “Fair enough.”

Raid headed to his Jeep.

He swung in, pulled out and didn’t look back.

Because he was headed home.

* * *

Twenty minutes later…

Raid drove his Jeep around the back of the farmhouse.

It was after one o’clock in the morning and all the outside lights were on. The house was dark except a light coming from the kitchen.

She was up.

He parked in the back, angled out, moved swiftly through the yard, up the back steps and tried the handle.

She’d locked up.

He almost smiled his relief when he inserted his key, got the door unlocked, moved in and stopped dead.

Miss Mildred was standing in the kitchen.

Fuck.

He stood silent, but impatient as she made her slow way to him, stopped a foot away and tilted her head way back.

Her shrewd eyes moved over his face.

He let them and it was his mother’s deeply ingrained manners that kept him standing there rather than setting her aside and getting to Hanna.

He watched her eyes close.

When she opened them, she whispered, “Wash it away. God gives tools to His earth that He uses, son. He puts men here like you to love girls like her, to protect them,” she lifted her hand, rested it on his chest and her sharp eyes flashed with wrath, “and, if necessary, to avenge them.”

It was then Raid closed his eyes.

She knew.

“But you know that already, don’t you, Raiden Miller?” she asked. “You already know God’s use for you ‘cause He’s needed to use you before.”

Raid kept his eyes closed and said nothing.

“Wash it away,” she kept whispering, the words flowing through him, leaving him clean.

Jesus.

Fucking clean.

Raid hadn’t felt clean in nearly five years.

He opened his eyes.

She shuffled away, murmuring, “Go to her. I’ll call Eunice. It’s late but she’ll come get me.”

“Miss Mildred—”

She slowly turned her head to pin him with her eyes. “Proud of you, son. You do things others can’t do and you stay standing. Now get upstairs and reap your rewards.”

Jesus, she understood everything.

Raid needed no further prompting. He moved through the kitchen, but stopped and turned when she called, “Boy?”

His eyes hit her.

“Since she got home, Spot won’t leave her side. Take your time, but I’ll be expectin’ you to do somethin’ about that. I want my cat back.”

Again, Raid nearly smiled.

He didn’t.

He jerked up his chin.

She slowly folded herself into a chair and reached for the phone sitting on the kitchen table.

Raid turned, moved through the foyer and took the stairs three at a time.

Their room was dark, but he could see Hanna asleep in bed.

He went directly there, sat on the side and was immediately attacked by a cat.

Raid put a hand to either side of the animal’s considerable stomach, hauled up its bulk and put him on the floor.

When he turned back, Hanna was up on an elbow.

“Raiden?”

The cat attacked his ankles.

He ignored it, reached out and tucked his girl’s hair behind her ear. “Yeah, honey.”

“Raiden,” she breathed, then moved and she was in his arms.

Hanna, safe, happy he was home and in his arms.

Thank.

Fuck.

Raid held her close, but he held her carefully.

Hanna held on tight.

Clean.

She pulled back, lifted her hands like she was going for his face, stopped and grumbled, “Stupid cast.”

“Baby, let me get my boots off and we’ll lie down.”

“I want to see your face.”

“You can see my face tomorrow. I’ll be two seconds.”

“I want to see your face now,” she demanded.

She reached for the light, and he sighed before he reached beyond her to turn on the light.

The cat jumped up on the bed. Raid set him down on the floor again and went back to Hanna.

She lifted her good hand to his face and her eyes moved over it.

He hoped like fuck she didn’t see what her grandmother saw.

Her eyes stopped and looked into his. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you get him?”

She couldn’t read him.

Thank.

Fuck.

“Yeah.”

“Is everyone safe?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes again moved over his face.

Finally, they stopped on his.

“Next time you go on a path of vengeance, Raiden Ulysses Miller, I expect updates direct from you. I don’t care how hilarious Sylvie is, and by the way, you can tell Deacon his grunts of, ‘All good. Don’t worry. Raid will be home soon,’ don’t tell me anything.”

Looking in Hanna’s sleepy but annoyed pretty blue eyes, he knew she was okay.

So that was when Raid allowed himself to smile.

* * *

Eight hours later…

Raid opened his eyes, saw ceiling and realized he couldn’t breathe.

This was because he had a fat cat lying on his chest.

He also had his woman’s head on his shoulder and her heavy casted arm on his gut.

He didn’t move.

Time passed.

He still didn’t move.

He knew when she woke because her body shifted minutely before it melted into his.

She gave it time before she whispered, “Honey, you awake?”

“Yeah.”

She snuggled closer.

The cat woke and started purring.

“He’s going to want food in about five seconds,” Hanna warned.

Raid, nor Hanna, were going anywhere.

“He’s gonna have to wait,” Raid replied.

“Can you breathe?” she asked.

“No,” he answered.

He felt her smile against his skin.

She fell silent.

Raid didn’t break it.

Eventually, she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He did not.

“It’s over,” he declared in an effort to communicate that to her.

“I’ll take that as you not wanting to talk about it,” she mumbled.

She got him.

Since she did, he didn’t bother to confirm.

She was silent another long while before she remarked, “Sylvie’s a kick in the pants.”

Sylvie Creed was a lot more than that.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“It was nice of her and Tucker to go all out for us,” she noted. “Especially taking them away from Jesse.”

“They were away from Jesse for a day,” Raid told her. “They hooked up with me, and Tucker went back to Denver ‘cause we were havin’ better luck with our informants using Sylvie. Then Sylvie found she couldn’t be away from her boys and she took off to join Tucker and Jesse in Denver, but those two worked the case in Denver. Tucker came back, then he left and Sylvie came back. In the end, Tucker came back, Sylvie left to go to Jesse and then it was done.”

“Sounds confusing.”

“They don’t like to be apart and they don’t like to be away from their boy. Now they’re all together and headin’ back to Phoenix.”

“Good,” she murmured.

“Is it?” he asked, and she lifted her head to aim her still sleepy eyes at him.

“Well, yeah. The family back together, this done.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he returned.

Her head tipped to the side and her sleepy eyes warmed. “You mean you and me?”

“Cuddled close to me, baby, you throwin’ yourself in my arms when I got home last night, I’m guessin’ we’re all right. What I want to know is if you are.”

Her eyes drifted to his collarbone before she said quietly, “I should have talked to you at Chilton’s after I overheard your conversation on the phone.”

That was when he shifted and the cat jumped away, surprisingly without objection, as Raid rolled to his side. He pulled Hanna into his arms.

She rested her casted hand on his chest and tipped her head back to look at him.

“This is not your fault,” he stated firmly.

“You were going to take care of it. I jumped the gun.”

“This is not your fault.”

She looked deep into his eyes before she dipped her chin and pressed her face in his throat.

“They killed Bodhi,” she said there.

“Yeah, and they fucked Heather up in a way she’s not ever gonna heal,” he shared. Her body twitched then her head went back and she caught his eyes again. “Their consequences. Not on you. This is no one’s fault except the asshole scumbags who make poor life choices and blame good people doin’ the right things for those assholes bearing the consequences of their own fucked up decisions. They made more, they got more consequences. Now they’re done and you’re done. Safe.”