Page 152 of Unexpected Redemption

Touché, pops (not a popsicle or candy)

TOMER

Considering the late night dealing with the fallout from the mission, the mood in the conference room is downright cheery this morning.

However, the information on my laptop screen confuses me, which tinges my mood. I’m hopeful we can figure out what this shit means. Why did the architect give us a jump drive with a list of seemingly random names? If they really wanted to help, they’d fucking be up-front with us. It’s starting to feel like a wild goose chase.

To be honest, I have no idea where this entire case is going. It’s unsettling.

And yet... I’m still floating on a fluffy cloud. Metaphorically, of course.

It’s almost as if I’m in a prolonged quasi-subspace, but that’s unlikely. Although, it could be the Dom version, Domspace. Never experienced that before. I’ve heard it’s a thing.

However, the most probable cause for my mood is that I’m madly in love.

Topping it off, all the orgasms last night and this morning with my sugar bear have had a calming effect on me. Her insatiable hunger is addictive. Between her pregnancy hormones and hypersexuality, I’ll run out of fluids soon.

Hmm. I wonder if there’s a supplement I could take for that.

Oh, I’ve got it.I’ll give myself some IV fluids like we did in the Rangers when we got dehydrated.

I’ll consider that more later. For now, I’ve got more research to do on these names.

Before I have a chance to continue analyzing the list,Boss strides in with Lettie trailing two steps behind him. It shouldn’t surprise me to see her joining us for the debrief. Yet, here I am, slack-jawed and heart-eyed. We talked about it on the drive to HQ this morning. Last night was a lot for her. For us both. She knew she wasn’t expected to attend today’s meeting.

The last thing I want is for this shit to trigger her, especially because part of our discussion will include Viktor.

Rest in Hell. No fucking regrets over taking his life.

Not a one.

I’ll have to keep a close eye on her when his name comes up. Until then, I’m trusting her judgment.

Lettie knows what she can handle. Usually.

Like every other time, if she gets upset, I’ll be here to comfort her. At the end of the day, that’s what she needs from me in situations like this.

Perhaps I’ve finally learned my lesson. The way she bum-rushed the crime scene, not showing an ounce of fear at being that close to Viktor’s dead body, was a flashing sign that she’s able to decide for herself. She doesn’t need me or her father to cage her in.

Nothing can stop my butterfly from soaring.

Boss plops his notebook and tablet on the other side of my laptop, shaking me from my musings.

As usual, he sits on my right at the head of the conference table. “Good morning, children.”

Murmured greetings echo around the room. Everyone from last night’s op is scattered around the long table.

Seeing Lettie searching for a chair, Klein and Mia shuffle over a spot, leaving room for her on my left. I’ve trained them so well. Such good kids.

To me, Big Al whispers, “Your girl is as stubborn as an ox.”

A chuckle shakes my chest, and I quip, “I wonder where she gets that from.”

“If it’s genetic, then you’re fucked and about to be outnumbered by bullheaded people starting in about seven or eight months.”

Then he smiles, big and toothy. As if nothing’s ever been wrong between us. We still haven’t discussed the pregnancy or officially squashed our issues. Regardless, day by day, our wounds continue healing.

Lettie takes the newly vacated seat on my left, placing a notepad and two pens in front of her. One of those will be for writing, and the other will be for clicking.

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