“Let me look,” Gunner said quietly. He didn’t want to. Knowing he’d done all the things written on paper was bad enough, but to have to revisit them in black and white . . .
For Avery, he would. He sat and opened the file. Pushed his anger back and he read until his eyes blurred, until he’d gone over each and every detail of his missions in living, breathing color. He could still smell the blood, taste the fear of the men he’d taken down. He knew every single reason why he’d done these jobs.
None of that made it right.
“Anything?” Dare asked. He’d been pacing until Grace led him gently to one of the couches. Gunner had been so engrossed he hadn’t realized that they’d all been staring at him. Waiting.
He looked back down at the two pages he’d pulled. They didn’t have much more detail than the others, but they had location points he hadn’t noticed before.
He flipped the page so the others crowding the table could see it. Jem had a map out, pointed to the coordinates. Gunner nodded. “We start here.”
“Where’s that?”
Avery’s voice.
“What the hell is it with women and sneaking up?” Jem demanded. “If we can’t tell Grace or Avery’s coming, maybe it is time we all retired.”
“Or maybe we’re that good,” Grace told him, and Jem snorted.
Gunner had already gotten out of his seat to help Avery. “You shouldn’t be up.”
“You’re all making plans without me,” she said.
“We’re making plans that include you,” Gunner corrected.
“Landon’s mine,” she told them all, and Gunner felt the anger coming off her in waves.
“Why not let us help, Avery? It’s what we do,” Key reminded her.
“And you should’ve called before this,” Dare added, but gently. “Fuck, don’t ever do that again to me, sis.”
Avery smiled at her brother. She was leaning heavily on Gunner and he looked toward Drea, who shrugged and mouthed, Couldn’t stop her.
There was too much truth behind that statement.
“We had months to decide. I wasn’t going to pull you all back for this. You had to make your decisions without duress. I couldn’t do to you what we ended up doing unwittingly to Gunner,” Avery told them all.
Dare flinched. It was apparent he felt as guilty as Avery did about that.
“I’m in,” Key said.
“You already know my answer,” Jem added.
“Someone’s got to keep an eye on all of you.” Dare crossed his arms.
“I want you all to know that I’m a better shot than Dare,” Grace told them, breaking the tension.
Dare turned to her in mock frustration. “One time. My hands were acting up.”
Grace took Dare’s hands into hers and rubbed them. “I want to be involved. You have to let me. Even though it might not be by blood, Gunner’s my brother.”
“We’re all family,” Avery said quietly. “And this is what family’s supposed to do for one another.”
“Section 8’s as much about protecting its own as it is about protecting the innocent. We’re all legacies. We all deserve to be a part of this,” Dare said.
“Let’s start thinking of ourselves as lucky to be a part of it instead of cursed,” Jem said, throwing a sideways glance at Key. Gunner was sure he’d eventually find out what that was all about. For now, all he needed to know was that they were bound by pain and pride. They would always know one another’s deepest, darkest secrets, a fact born of necessity. All secrets weren’t uncovered, not yet, but they would need to be put on the table. Because secrets could be used against the team.
Avery looked up when Grace came into the room. Drea had given her another pain pill without Avery having to ask. Now she’d settled back against the pillows, glad she’d forced herself to make the trip into the kitchen. She needed to show them that she was all right. That she would be.
Whether or not she truly felt that way would be her secret for now. Hers and Drea’s and Grace’s, since she knew she couldn’t pull shit on these women.
“Nice job in there,” Grace told her now. She pulled the door closed behind her. “They really needed that.”
“They’re hurting,” Avery said.
“They’re better now that they know you’re still in,” Grace assured her. She sat on the edge of the bed by Avery’s feet. Drea was on the other side, curled up on a pillow, her tattooed arm resting lazily above her head. Avery leaned back against the pillows as the pill began to work. The throbbing pain receded, replaced by a low-level ache she could most definitely handle.
“Do you guys want to be alone?” Drea asked.
Grace shook her head. “You seem to be in as deeply as we are,” she told Drea, before turning her attention back to Avery. “I didn’t know if I should give you these or not.”
For the first time, Avery noticed Grace had something tucked under her arm. She was holding three of the journals that Avery instantly recognized as part of Adele’s set. The woman had liked writing in a certain type of journal, with a certain pen, and she seemed to have never wavered from that. That in and of itself comforted Avery. It had probably comforted Adele too—it was something that never changed in what had to have been a tumultuous existence.
“Why not?”
“These should’ve gone before the others,” Grace admitted.
“I thought there was . . . something missing.” There had been, physically, a full year in which Adele hadn’t written anything. Avery thought a lot about what could’ve happened during that missing year. “I’d hoped she’d fallen in love.”
“She did. But something else happened to her too.” Grace held the journals tight against her body, still unwilling—seemingly unable—to part with them. “I didn’t want to scare you.”
And just then, Avery knew exactly what had happened to Adele. Drea seemed to know too, even though she didn’t know who Adele was. The room stilled and Avery reached out for the journals. Slowly, Grace relinquished them.
Avery put them in her lap, traced the leather bindings with her fingers. “Was she raped on a job?”
“Yes.”
“And the men knew?”
“She only told Darius. A year later,” Grace said.
Drea gave a low whistle under her breath, then said, “Tough broad.”
“She was,” Avery agreed, making a note to let Drea read some of the journals. She didn’t know exactly what the doctor’s deal was, but suspected Jem would, soon enough. The very fact that she’d basically saved Avery’s ass was enough to win her Avery’s devotion.
“I didn’t . . . Dare didn’t tell you because I didn’t want him to. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to tell you what happened to me,” Grace started.
“Grace, no . . .” Avery breathed.
“Dare didn’t tell you everything. He kept a big part of it private. You all knew how bad my time with Rip was, but . . .” She paused. “It was Rip’s men,” she explained. Avery knew Grace’s stepfather—and Gunner’s father—had locked her in the basement rooms of the mansion and tortured her for a year, but she hadn’t thought that he’d be capable of having his own stepdaughter raped. “It happened a lot that year. And it still comes up to bite me in the ass, and I hate it. And I know Landon didn’t rape you, but he still took something from you. I just want you to know, when I say I understand, it’s not just lip service.”
Avery grabbed her hand, squeezed it hard.
“I’m not saying I’m fine. I’d be lying,” Grace continued. “But I needed you to know I’ve been there. I know what you’re feeling. We’re all sticking together, but you and me, we need to rely on each other during the tough times. Because we’ll each have them.”
“Every time I close my eyes,” Avery started, was unable to finish. “It’s nothing compared to what you went through.”