Page 80 of Lesson In Forgiveness

They both looked down to the bare feet and legs sticking out between Huck’s boots. He lifted a shoulder. “Didn’t look so hot before she went down; I imagine she’ll feel worse when she comes around. Doyle got in a good shot.”

Scowling, Grit gave the asshole a quick jab in the ribs with his boot. He’d been caught up in the briefing with Atticus and the team when Archie informed him Tabitha was on the move, albeit slowly and painfully. Jasper’s kitten kept up a running commentary the whole time he was extracting himself from the meeting, so he knew exactly what Doyle had done.

“Atticus will need your report.”

“I know. Want me to take the trash out?”

That pleasure belonged to someone else. As Huck stepped aside, Grit dropped to one knee beside Tabitha. Pale, sweaty, unconscious, she’d undone a week’s worth of care in about twenty minutes. “The trash has an end of employment debriefing scheduled when he wakes up. Jasper’s on his way down to collect him.”

“Oh shit, he’s getting the sadist’s personal attention?”

A few employees knew of Jasper’s connection to Avalon—a select few who held the same interests—but his sadism wasn’t contained solely to the club. It was an intricate part of the man, touching every part of his world, extending the sincere respect from his personal life into the depths of his work.

“Big brother, little sister. Doyle fucked up royally.”

As Huck chuckled, Grit checked his little tiger over for fresh injuries, relieved when nothing seemed broken. She was limp in his arms when he lifted her off the hard floor, but it made him smile to see she’d dressed in his hoodie. Not that she’d had much choice—he hadn’t left her any clothes for precisely this reason.

Standing, he tipped his head at the asshole still bleeding from his nose. “Feel free to remind him of his mistakes if he tries to get up before Jasper arrives. A hefty kick in the ribs should do the trick.”

“Happy to oblige.”

It was nice to have teammates who knew the score, Grit thought as he carried his prize toward the elevator. If he’d told Huck to shoot Doyle and let him bleed out, there may have been some debate and plenty of reasons why they should avoid using extreme measures. But a little rough and ready to teach a lesson?

They were men who trained together, beat the shit out of each other for fun in the gym, spent hours working on techniques and precision in hand to hand combat. They bunked together while on duty, lived and breathed in each other’s personal space when on missions.

Doling out discipline among the team wasn’t a rare occurrence.

Speaking of discipline… Tabitha had some of that heading her way.

Atticus and Jasper hadn’t taken the news of Evander’s offer well. The meeting posed the perfect opportunity to tell them, and to explain his reasons for considering it. They’d understood, to a degree—they were all getting older and, while Atticus and Jasper weren’t as involved with field work, they both knew the risks of getting hurt on a mission multiplied with age.

Becoming the head of security for Serenity was a downgrade in adrenaline, but it not only gave Grit a boost in the bank account, it offered him a chance to build a future where his woman wasn’t waiting for that knock on the door every time he went to work.

The deciding factor in his decision was Tabitha. Several weeks ago, she hadn’t really existed in his world, and how the entire thing revolved around her. If she was willing to relocate with him, try to settle down into some semblance of a normal relationship, he would hand in his resignation once this assignment was over and she was safe.

Of course, today’s development made that objective both more difficult and yet more achievable.

What kind of idiot put out a hit on a guy, then on the contract killer who accepted the job, and then decided it was a damn good idea to fly to a different country—presumably to take care of both jobs himself?

Grit snorted under his breath and summoned the elevator, stepping through the doors when they slid open. He managed to hit the right button, and sighed as the doors closed without preamble and sent the car rising.

One entanglement after another kept coming. He was sure if he convinced Tabitha that her place was with him, that she belonged with him, those entanglements would keep coming hard and fast.

Life with her wouldn’t be boring. She drew chaos like a light sucked in moths. Maybe it was her manic energy, maybe it was just the hand she’d been dealt with fate, but trouble would always find her.

He accepted that. Relished it, even. As a Dom, as her companion—lover seemed a bit presumptuous right now—he held a responsibility to protect her. That meant utilizing his skills, matching his wits against hers and anyone else’s who dared come for her.

Putting his life on the line.

Yeah, he’d still have his adrenaline fix.

She was eerily still as he walked out of the elevator and headed down the hallway to her room in the medical sector. He made a mental note to ask Archie to send him a copy of the security footage—he was curious as to how she’d behaved during her bid for freedom.

“There won’t be a second chance at that for a while,” he murmured, shouldering open the door and crossing over to the bed. He laid her down carefully, propping her up long enough to strip off the hoodie. “Naughty little tigers don’t run around the halls half-naked, bare-footed, and almost get Tased by asshole mercs, Tabby. They stay in bed when I tell them to and get rest so they can heal after they’ve been smashed into bruised, bloody pieces.”

No answer; he hadn’t expected one.

Settling her back into the pillows, he studied the new bruise forming over her shoulder. The mark displeased him—it stood out among the healing contusions, yet another sign of violence on her fragile body. She might believe she was invincible to a large degree, but she’d proved she could be harmed.

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