Raid

Then she said, “You’ll get used to it.”

I stared at her.

Great.

Then she turned her head and cooed at cute, little Jesse.

Watching that, I sighed, thinking that maybe I would.

Then I went straight back to worrying.

* * * * *

Raid

Three weeks later…

They all stood in the dark parking lot of the Pancake House to touch base before they disbursed after finally taking care of the guy responsible for attacking Hanna and Knight’s girls.

“I want Nair,” Raid rumbled.

“Patience, Raid,” Knight said quietly.

“I think you get him, man,” Creed stated. “He found his woman on the floor of their house with her face in a puddle of blood she coughed up. You need to speed this shit up.”

“That f**ker we took care of had no idea Hanna had anything to do with Knight ‘cause he had no idea Raid was lookin’ for him. He doesn’t even f**kin’ know who Raid is,” Deacon put in. “He was just pissed he lost a shitload of dope and it was Hanna who called it in. The operation is still sound.”

“When you got a woman or kids or, I don’t know, maybe even just a f**kin home you give a shit about, Deacon, then you can talk about how sound this operation is,” Creed growled.

Deacon’s body went dangerously still.

“That blow was low,” he clipped.

“But it hit true,” Creed bit off.

“I don’t want a f**kin’ debrief and I don’t wanna pull you two out of a goddamned smackdown. I wanna get to my woman,” Raid ground out and his eyes cut to Knight. “We bottom line this, this shit is on Nair. I want him.”

“I indirectly put your woman in danger, Raid. This shit is on me,” Knight stated.

“I don’t wanna go over what we’ve gone over time and a-fuckin’-gain the last three weeks either, but I will repeat what I’ve said a hundred goddamned times. That’s bullshit.” Raid’s eyes grew sharp on Knight and his voice got rough. “I. Want. Nair.”

“We do that, we have to do it in a way that it’s permanent,” Knight replied. “That requires planning.”

“Think we proved about ten hours ago not a one of us has got a problem with a permanent solution to a problem,” Deacon reminded them.

The men fell silent.

Knight broke it. “I need to understand what my brother’s involvement is, Raid. I know you get that.”

“Yeah. I do. So find the f**k out and let me loose on Nair,” Raid shot back.

“I’ll take care of Nair,” Knight returned.

“I get he’s f**ked with you, and God forbid he reaches out to Anya, Kat or Kasha, then you can have him. But until you come home to find someone you love lyin’ unconscious in her own blood, I got dibs.”

Knight held Raid’s eyes.

Then he jerked up his chin, saying, “Fair enough.”

Raid headed to his Jeep.

He swung in, pulled out and didn’t look back.

Because he was headed home.

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later…

Raid drove his Jeep around the back of the farmhouse.

It was after one o’clock in the morning and all the outside lights were on. The house was dark except a light coming from the kitchen.

She was up.

He parked in the back, angled out, moved swiftly through the yard, up the back steps and tried the handle.

She’d locked up.

He almost smiled his relief when he inserted his key, got the door unlocked, moved in and stopped dead.

Miss Mildred was standing in the kitchen.

Fuck.

He stood silent, but impatient as she made her slow way to him, stopped a foot away and tilted her head way back.

Her shrewd eyes moved over his face.

He let them and it was his mother’s deeply ingrained manners that kept him standing there rather than setting her aside and getting to Hanna.

He watched her eyes close.

When she opened them, she whispered, “Wash it away. God gives tools to His earth that He uses, son. He puts men here like you to love girls like her, to protect them,” she lifted her hand, rested it on his chest and her sharp eyes flashed with wrath, “and, if necessary, to avenge them.”

It was then Raid closed his eyes.

She knew.

“But you know that already, don’t you, Raiden Miller?” she asked. “You already know God’s use for you ‘cause He’s needed to use you before.”

Raid kept his eyes closed and said nothing.

“Wash it away,” she kept whispering, the words flowing through him, leaving him clean.

Jesus.

Fucking clean.

Raid hadn’t felt clean in nearly five years.

He opened his eyes.

She shuffled away, murmuring, “Go to her. I’ll call Eunice. It’s late but she’ll come get me.”

“Miss Mildred—”

She slowly turned her head to pin him with her eyes. “Proud of you, son. You do things others can’t do and you stay standing. Now get upstairs and reap your rewards.”

Jesus, she understood everything.

Raid needed no further prompting. He moved through the kitchen, but stopped and turned when she called, “Boy?”

His eyes hit her.

“Since she got home, Spot won’t leave her side. Take your time, but I’ll be expectin’ you to do somethin’ about that. I want my cat back.”

Again, Raid nearly smiled.

He didn’t.

He jerked up his chin.

She slowly folded herself into a chair and reached for the phone sitting on the kitchen table.

Raid turned, moved through the foyer and took the stairs three at a time.

Their room was dark, but he could see Hanna asleep in bed.

He went directly there, sat on the side and was immediately attacked by a cat.

Raid put a hand to either side of the animal’s considerable stomach, hauled up its bulk and put him on the floor.

When he turned back, Hanna was up on an elbow.

“Raiden?”

The cat attacked his ankles.

He ignored it, reached out and tucked his girl’s hair behind her ear. “Yeah, honey.”

“Raiden,” she breathed, then moved and she was in his arms.

Hanna, safe, happy he was home and in his arms.

Thank.

Fuck.

Raid held her close, but he held her carefully.

Hanna held on tight.

Clean.

She pulled back, lifted her hands like she was going for his face, stopped and grumbled, “Stupid cast.”

“Baby, let me get my boots off and we’ll lie down.”