Page 94 of Raven's Curse
The sun was already heading for the horizon, when the front door creaked open, Nick walking into the room, bringing a swirl of cool spring air with him. He stopped just inside, nodding at Chase before tugging Greer in for a hug. The man seemed harder, colder, his face more weathered than Chase remembered. As if time had spun faster for him.
Greer stepped back, tilted her head to the side. “You look like shit.”
Nick chuckled. “Thanks, Greer, you look great, too.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” She glanced back at Chase for a moment. “Are you okay?”
Nick plastered on a fake smile. “Dandy.”
“Right. I don’t suppose this haggard look has anything to do with you and Kate splitting up? All those missions you’ve been going on despite claiming you’re not a field agent, again.”
“Not a single thing. And those were just temporary. I had a few loose ends I needed to tie up before I stepped back.”
“And did you? Tie up all those ends?”
Nick grinned. “Mostly, though, there’s one that turned out better than expected. Chase? Brother do me a favor and get your buddies.”
Chase arched a brow but headed off, rounding up Foster, Zain and Kash. They stopped in the middle of the sitting room, Keaton’s crew gathering on the fringes.
Nick nodded at them. “I hope it’s okay. I brought a friend with me.”
Nick darted back out the door, footsteps pounding along the main path. A door chimed in the distance, two footfalls heading back up the walkway. Nick appeared first, holding the door as another man shuffled in. Thinner. Rough, but steady.
He looked over at them, grinned. “Sorry it took so long. I got tied up.”
Frozen.
All of them.
Standing in Foster’s house, staring at Eric Dalton as he stood in the foyer, looking haggard and frayed, but his eyes clear and bright.
Chase took a step, stopped, then laughed as he closed the distance — pulled the man in for a hug. His buddies followed suit, clapping Dalton on the back, as they moved into the kitchen, grabbed Dalton a beer and some pizza.
Foster made the introductions, the noise level climbing as they talked about old missions — how they’d found their way to Raven’s Cliff.
Dalton took a long slow swig of his beer, looking them all in the eyes. “I’m really sorry about Rhett. About everything. If I could have stopped Carver and Hodges…”
Chase waved him off. “You made it. Rhett would have been thrilled.”
Dalton smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nick said you started a foundation in his honor.”
Foster beamed. “The guy had more money than he knew what to do with. When he left it to us… We wanted it to help people. We’ll be funding men and women who want to dedicate their lives to search and rescue, either as tech specialists or medics, but who don’t have the finances to take the courses — get the experience. I think Rhett would approve.”
“I think he would.”
Foster nodded at him. “What’s your next move?”
Dalton shrugged. “Right now, I’m just happy to get through a day without losing my mind. Haven’t really thought about much else.”
Saylor inched forward. “Well, there’s an apartment over my boathouse. It’s been designated for crew, but you’re welcome to it, if you’d like. Maybe some salty air and gray skies would help. Lord knows it’s helped all of us.”
Dalton’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?”
Zain grinned. “Can’t think of a better use. And you could hang out at the hangar once you’re settled. Maybe come on the odd ride. If you want. No pressure, brother. We’re just happy for the win.”
Dalton glanced at Nick. “I might just take you all up on that.”
Zain glanced over at Nick. “That goes for you, too, Colter. Judging on the rough appearance, it might be time to consider a new vocation. Chuck the CIA to the curb.”
