Page 20 of Reclaimed

“I think you’re comparing apples to oranges. You were very much in danger in your situation and could have died. I’m not even on this guy’s radar.”

“I didn’t have to step in front of that bullet, but in that moment, it was worth the risk.”

I remove my free hand from beneath the blanket and squeeze his fingers still tucked around mine. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Me too.” Aiden shakes off the heaviness first. “Feeling better?”

“I think so,” I answer honestly, followed by a loud yawn. The cloud of anxiety has dissipated some.

“Good. Get off to bed, beautiful. I’ll take the couch.”

“Are you sure? I’m feeling better now. I think I can manage—”

“If it gives you one night of peaceful sleep to know you aren’t here alone, it’s no problem for me to stay. I’m happy to.”

“I owe you one, Powell.” I rise to my feet and dump the blanket in his lap. “In the morning, I’ll make you blueberry pancakes from scratch.”

“Something you should know about me,” he catches my wrist before I can scamper off, “I’ll never say no to food, Isla. Especially if it’s a home-cooked meal.”

7

Aiden

I lickmy lips and wipe the bead of sweat from my upper lip with the back of my forearm. The remnants of blueberry pancakes sweetening my tongue bring back the morning in vivid color. Specifically, Isla in a short cherry red silk robe, prancing barefoot around her kitchen while I rouse from the deepest sleep I’ve had in the last four months.

Any man would be lucky to wake up to the scene she gifted me.

I could feel my welcome wearing out. Isla’s shields hummed between us like an invisible force. The reverberation of her late-night vulnerability felt like too much for her to handle in the morning sun so after breakfast, I cleaned up and headed out. The daylight most likely chased all the scary scenarios back into the corners of her mind. We exchanged numbers so I can check her pulse this evening when night arrives again. After her scare, she called her Saturday shift off, so at least she’ll be out of the club until Monday.

“For fuck’s sake, Sutton, you had to pick the hottest damn day all year for this shit,” Silas bitches from my left. He’s holding the other end of the large plank I grip in my hands.

“I’m a cop, not a damn weatherman,” Sutton grunts around the screws held between his lips.

“If I didn’t love my niece so much you’d be on your own, old man,” Silas says.

“Hardly. I would have called in a favor. Aiden isn’t the only Powell in my debt.”

I roll my eyes and glance across the yard with a squint in the blinding sun. Silas isn’t wrong. It’s an uncharacteristically hot day for September in Minnesota. “If you think responding to a call when I had a bullet in my shoulder means I owe you something, you’re a bigger asshole than I thought.”

“I don’t. But I do remember pretending to slap a pair of handcuffs on you when that drunk chick at The Rocks was getting a little too handsy last year. Is that not worthy of a favor?”

My cloud of irritation clears some. “I forgot about that.”

“Clearly,” Sutton snorts. “It’s not every day I fake an arrest.”

“Where was I?” Silas wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead onto his shoulder.

“Where else? On his other side flirting with her friend,” Sutton answers. The sudden whirr of the drill halts the conversation.

The memory is fuzzy. One of hundreds I have with these two. It’s not often I spent time with Sutton, but Silas, Corjan, and I have been frequenting The Rocks together since high school. Sutton tends to spend the most time with Lee, Jack, and even Jude, when he can be coerced into leaving the Sanctuary property where he lives.

Sutton brushes the sawdust away from the newest anchor. Silas and I drop our hands after holding that wooden beam for far too long.

“A few more planks to go, boys, then I owe you both a beer.”

“I call dibs on pushing Nellie first on the swing.” Silas grins at his older brother.

Sutton scowls. “We’ll let her decide.”

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