Page 172 of Mission Shift

Daria shot up from her seat, glass in hand. “God, yes. Let’s leave the men to their serious talk.”

Angel followed, looping her arm through Daria’s. “Come on, Daria. I want to heareverything.”

The three of them, already chattering and laughing, vanished into the living room like they’d done it a hundred times before. Just before she disappeared around the corner, Samantha called out over her shoulder, “You boys behave. We’ll let you know if we need backup.”

I looked at my brothers and raised my hands. “Guess that means we’re doing the dessert dishes.” I stood and started stacking plates.

Conan stretched and cracked his knuckles. “She’s fierce, bro. That dog’s no joke either. He just gave me a death stare.”

“He’s still warming up to you,” I said.

“Yeah, well, he’d better not warm up by chewing off my leg.”

“He’s protective.”

“He’s a hellhound,” Conan said. “Don’t get me wrong—I respect it. Just saying, if I vanish, check his teeth.”

I chuckled and turned toward the kitchen sink. Behind me, Angel’s voice drifted in from the living room. Then Daria chimed in with a comment, and Samantha’s laugh rang out.

It was a strange thing—being home after everything I’d been through. But hearing Daria in there, relaxed and connecting with my family, grounded something in me.

We got the dishes taken care of pretty quickly. Conan wiped down the counter while I rinsed, and Atticus loaded the dishwasher, placing each plate and utensil meticulously as if he were in surgery.

“It’s good to be home,” I said, wiping my hands on a towel. “There were moments when I didn’t know if I’d see you guys again.”

Atticus abruptly stopped and grabbed my shoulder. “You had us worried; that’s for sure. I couldn’t have handled losing you, Braxton. You’ve always been the one with your head screwed on tight. God, I was worried. I love you, little brother.”

Conan grabbed me up in a bear hug. “Fuck, Brax. It’s my job to be the one living on the edge.” He took a deep breath. “Your kidnapping—the not knowing—it changed me.”

He let go and turned to Atticus. “Now I get how you must have felt so many times when I did stupid shit, especially right after Dad died. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I hate that I put you guys through that. I love both you guys.”

Atticus gave Conan a side hug. “Better late than never,” he teased.

A burst of laughter filtered in from the living room.

“We should get in there before they come up with some wine-fueled plot to go skinny-dipping in the pool,” Atticus said with a chuckle.

We filed into the living room and took our spots on the massive sectional sofa. Atticus parked himself on the arm of the couch right next to Sam, always eager to be within arm’s reach of her. Conan flopped down on the floor, stretched his legs out, and leaned back against the sofa in front of Angel on the other end. I sat next to Daria in the middle. She leaned into me slightly, her hand brushing my knee.

Then she turned toward me. “I gave Angel the rundown—so she’d be on the same page—since we already told Samantha,” she said. “Well—most of it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Most of it?”

“Skipped the Luca part,” she said. “Didn’t want to steal your thunder.”

Conan scoffed. “Cool. So I’m the only one still in the dark.”

Angel smiled down at him, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ll fill you in later. You’re not missing anything that can’t wait.”

Atticus fixed his eyes on me, all traces of patience gone. “You said there was news about Viktor and Valentina. You want to explain that now? Or are we waiting for another excuse?”

His brusque tone hit a little harder than I’d expected, but I couldn’t blame him. Viktor had tried to destroy Sam. Of course Atticus wanted answers.

Daria’s hand landed on my thigh. She was aware of all that Viktor had done to Sam and Angel.

I took a sip of my beer and cleared my throat. “Yeah…I’ll tell you all about what went down.”

With that, all eyes were on me.

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