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“Man, Danny, you kicked that door in like it was nothing!” Matt said, running his hand along the fractured jamb—the deadbolt busted, protruding from the wood. “Aren’t those supposed to be pretty tough?”

“Just have to hit the sweet spot.”

“When we get a chance, you’ll have to teach me. I’d like to—”

“Danny…” Jenny backed from the window, intruding on their conversation. “I…” She started again, but had difficulty forming her thoughts. Grant had made them swear not to reveal too much of their past. Friends came and went. Trust was hard to come by. The knowledge that they might possibly be wanted by an organization as large as the Second Alliance seemed too dangerous to share with anyone. It could be used against them if the situation dictated it.

Be careful with what you say. “Awhile ago we saw this group of people. Me and Matt and Grant did. They wore all black, organized, like an army or something, but—” She stopped. Just ask him if he knows. Keep it simple. “Have you seen them? A group in black up this way?”

“We’re the biggest group in this area, sorry to disappoint you if you’re looking to trade up.”

“You know that’s not why I’m asking.”

“I don’t.” He lowered an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know? What’d they do to you?”

Jenny simply stared at him.

“Or… is it that you guys did something to them?”

Danny looked to Matt, but he offered up even less than she did on the topic.

“Okay.” He wiped from the corners of his mouth. “I get it. Obviously, there are things that we don’t share. Things we keep bottled up. But I can’t help you if you don’t open up. No one can.”

“We don’t need your help with them. We just need to know they aren’t up here.”

“They aren’t. You don’t need to worry about it.” Danny traipsed over to a recliner and plonked down—Sherman close behind, taking to the floor beside him. Both Jenny’s and Matt’s eyes were still locked on Danny. Still searching for certainty in his answer. “I’m serious. I’m not the one trying to hide anything about your soldiers in black.”

“Why’d you say it like that?” Jenny took offense. “You don’t tell us everything. You barely talk about your police work. I know practically nothing about your family. Never even seen a picture of them.”

“We don’t need to tell everything, right Jenny?” Grinning, he closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. “Not sure you’ll ever know,” he teased.

“You’ll tell me someday.”

“Not today.”

“What would it take?”

“Take the hint,” Matt whispered. “Let him sleep for a bit. We’ll keep watch.” He tapped the grip of the pistol resting in its holster and strutted over to the bay window.

“No offense, but it’ll take a bit more than your mighty pistol there.” She eyed Danny’s rifle leaning against the recliner’s arm. “Danny, let me take your rifle.”

“No.”

“Seriously? What good is it sitting there?”

“It’ll wake up when I do.” He couldn’t help but let a tiny snicker loose. “That’s what taking watch is. It’s simple. You watch. Something happens. You wake the others. If not, you just sit there until your turn’s up.”

“Why the hell do we train if you aren’t gonna give us the chance to use it?”

Jenny saw his mouth curl into a smile, but he said nothing. Danny knew it drove her crazy to stop mid-conversation. She knew he liked to do that—to tease. You’re just like my dad. But it wasn’t just his teasing or his little quirks that revived the memories of her father. It was everything. The brown hair. The hazel eyes. Even their build was similar, though Danny was slightly taller. But what brought it all together was the laugh. That’s why she gravitated toward him almost immediately. When she could break through Danny’s toughness and get him to laugh, she could be with her dad again. Even if for only a few bits of laughter.

“Quit looking at me.” Danny shook the blanket loose from the back of the recliner, shifted to his side, and pulled the blanket across himself. “Doesn’t take both of you to keep watch,” he yawned. “Sounds like Matt volunteered to go first. I’ll take second watch. Jenny, if we need you, then you can have third. We leave in the morning.”

“I’ll take second watch.” She looked to Danny, her face serious, unwavering, but Danny had buried himself in the recliner unable to see her determination. “I’ll take second watch!”

“We’ll see.”

“Dan—”

“Go rest!” He tossed onto his other side. “Or do something else. I don’t care.”

“Hey Matt, why don’t you let me—”

“Don’t even try it, Jenny,” Danny groaned from underneath the blanket.

It’s never personal with him. “You need anything before I head off to the back?” Jenny gave Matt a peck on the cheek.

“No, I’m good.” His gaze returned to the street, but she remained at his ear.

“Let him sleep. Wake me up for second watch,” she whispered. Matt snapped his attention back toward her. “Please…”

“You know I can’t do that.” His voice was torn. “The last thing I want to do is piss him off. You know neither of us want that.”

She dropped her eyes, disappointed. “I know… At some point he needs to let go of some things.”

“It’s gotten better.”

“True…” But not fast enough. “Just think on it.”

Cautiously, Jenny padded down the hallway to the back of the house. I know Danny cleared it, but vigilance equals survival. Keep it on your mind. Nothing wrong with staying in that mindset.

Only four doors lined the hall, and she opened each one, holding her arms up and out as if she were holding a rifle. She pied off each room—systematic, efficient in the manner Danny had taught her. Although she felt slightly foolish, if Danny wouldn’t provide the opportunity for training, she’d have to create her own. She cleared an office, a small bedroom, and a bathroom. One left, the master bedroom, last door on the right.

It appeared unspoiled like the rest of the house. The bed was tucked in. A laundry basket toward its edge—stacks of folded clothing. Over the closet door, a woman’s lace nightgown hung. She couldn’t resist running her fingers down its front. Satin. Someone had something planned. Then she remembered. Shit! In the excitement of earlier, she had forgotten the one thing she personally required from this endeavor.

Jenny took to the bathroom as she had in the house before. Peering around the corner, a draft of air chilled her face. Clack. Clack. Clack. Above the toilet, a set of blinds drawn closed smacked against an open window. She jerked it shut and adjusted the blinds to allow more light into the room before turning toward the mirrored vanity. A scented candle tin sat on top. She opened it, and inside was a book of matches she used to light the wick.

She searched through the vanity, the medicine cabinet, the linen closet, taking the improvised torch with her. Things she may have set aside to keep were tossed about, ignored. Only one thing on her mind, but again, no such luck.

Finished with the search, she practically slammed the candle against the vanity’s marble top in frustration. Gripping the counter’s edge, she fumed at her reflection in the mirror. How the hell is it none of these women have any? I thought everyone kept these close by. She took a deep breath. Take a step back, Jenny. You don’t have to know right now. There’s still time.

Jenny slipped the knit cap from her head and undid her hair bun. She leaned forward, examining the bags under her eyes. I look old. How the hell did this happen? Dirt under her fingernails. Face splotched with grime. When’s the last time you took a bath? Baby wipes don’t count. A tear ran down her cheek. Neither do tears. She took her knit cap across her face. How are you going to take care of anyone else? Why’d you do this to me? Asshole! She broke down. Gasping between breaths and tears, she began ripping through the lower cabinets again. I just know it’s got to be here! How the hell is it so hard to find?! Come on!