Page 235 of Back in the Saddle

I was going to lose it.

“You’re my friend,” I said huskily.

“You’re my friend too, Jessie,” he replied.

Totally going to lose it.

“I’m so glad,” I choked out.

We looked into each other’s eyes.

Then he stepped back and the spell was broken.

“Can I go home?” he asked.

“As soon as we can manage it,” I answered. “Promise.”

He nodded and shuffled away to get close to the others. They didn’t look good, mentally or hygienically, though at least they looked fed.

Harlow and Luna were cautiously approaching the huddle when I turned and nearly bumped into Eric.

The look on his face aimed right at me took my breath away.

I powered through that and requested, “Can we get them home?”

“Don’t ever again tell me you’re not special,” he said as reply.

Oh God, I was holding it together, and he was going to send me over the edge.

“I can’t now, honey,” I warned him.

He nodded sharply and shared, “We’re working on it. The cops obviously need to interview them. Mace is trying to tell them that’d go better if they got them where they feel safe.”

I looked across the bustling space and saw Mace in an intense conversation with that man who wore a more-official-than-the-normal-official uniform.

Then, after I got over the shock of them all standing together (seriously, it was like staring at the sun), I also saw Liam, Brady, Knox, Gabe and Roam hanging. They were chatting like they were discussing how they thought the Cardinals would do tomorrow, and not like they were in proximity to a house that was ablaze, firemen working to contain it, nearly a dozen cop cars with the cops from those cars hustling around, and (cripes!) paramedics rushing an occupied stretcher to the ambulance.

Gabe had some blood on his Henley, but it was clearly not his.

Time to stop looking at the guys.

I turned back to my guy.

“Copy that,” I said to Eric.

“I’ll go check and see how that’s progressing,” Eric said. “Stay right here. I’ll be back.”

I nodded.

Harlow and Luna got close to me. Raye wandered over when Cap was called to talk to a uniform. We stood together, with me glancing often to Homer and the others to see if I could take their temperature (I couldn’t).

Though, they were openly tweaked and restless, but who wouldn’t be?

I felt something funny and looked the other way.

Titus was leaning against the fender of his Jag, arms crossed on his wide chest.

When he caught my eyes, he dipped his head down and to the side in what I understood was a unique salute.

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