Chapter Sixty-Seven

Dane wasn’t sure what was wrong with Lena, but he was positive there was something bothering her. Correction—there was something else bothering her.

The poor woman had the weight of the world on her shoulders. He wanted to take some of the burden off her, but he was weighed down at the moment, too.

There was only one way he knew to make her more at ease. And they’d spent all afternoon doing it. He decided to focus on finding a different way he could relieve her worries over the mission.

He thought back to the first time he went out on an op. He’d only had one concern. Well, one concern other than possible death.

“Colton?” Dane said, causing the other man to look up from his food while slurping in a noodle. “How many times have you been shot?”

Colton wiped his mouth on his napkin and smiled. “Seven times.”

“One of those times was my fault,” Angel offered with a frown. “I froze and didn’t react. Colton got shot.”

“But he survived. Every time,” Dane pointed out. He turned his gaze on Angel. “How about you?”

The group seemed to realize what he was doing, and he could feel their eagerness to share their stories. He loved these people and their willingness to take in anyone. Even a scrawny executive like him, who hadn’t even known how to shoot a gun the first day on the job.

He exchanged a glance with Supervisory Deputy United States Marshal Thorne. The boss had a gift for seeing someone’s potential and standing back as they got their feet under them. It would have been easy to stick Dane in a small town all alone and hope for the best, but Thorne had seen something in him. Something more. And Dane couldn’t have been more grateful for the opportunity.

“I was shot once,” Angel answered. “Stabbed once, and cut more times than I can count.”

“Forty-three times,” Colton said. When Angel looked at him askance, he shrugged. “I counted up your scars once when you were naked and I couldn’t sleep.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’ve been shot four times,” Justin jumped in, though it wasn’t his turn.

“Four for me, too,” Garrett answered when Dane pointed at him.

“I hope you’re not counting that cut on your arm,” Justin teased.

“It took stitches to stop the bleeding. It counts,” Samantha came to her husband’s defense. She had been the one to stitch him up. She grimaced. “I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job.”

“I would have been dead without you,” Garrett said with a wink.

Thorne steepled his fingers and shook his head. “I make it a point not to let people shoot me,” he said it with an air of superiority.

However, Dane noticed he hadn’t really answered the question. Not letting people shoot him didn’t mean he hadn’t ever been shot.

He let it go and turned to Lena. “I’ve been shot three times, stabbed twice, stuck on a fence, and bitten by a wicked beast.”

“Hey, now,” both Angel and Colton protested. The beast had been their German Shepard who had been ordered to attack him.

“The point is, we’ve all been injured and we’ve all survived. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

Lena pressed her lips together and gave a quick nod. She was quiet for the remainder of the meal.

Hmm. Maybe she hadn’t been worried about the danger, after all.

After dinner, they spent a few hours going over every last detail of the plan once more, and mapped out a timeline. Everyone knew what they needed to do, even if they weren’t on board with their duties.

“I’m still not sure why I can’t go along,” Colton complained while everyone stood to leave the lodge. “I spent two years with Viktor Kulakov. I know the son of a bitch better than anyone.”

“Which is why he’s gone to such extreme measures to get you back. We can’t have you stroll in there and not expect him to do something desperate,” Thorne replied while Angel kept her eyes on the baby in her arms.

It was clear she was struggling with what she knew as a marshal, versus what she felt as a wife and mother. She wanted to keep her husband out of harm’s way.

“We can handle it,” Dane said. “You and Angel will feed us information and keep us coordinated.”

Dane took Lena’s hand as they walked to their cabin. “Are you okay?” he asked when the silence grew and they’d reached the tiny porch of their temporary home.

“I wasn’t worried about getting hurt,” she confirmed his earlier thoughts.

“Then, what’s wrong?” He opened the door for her and followed her inside the cozy cabin.

“For months, I’ve wanted to do something to get Kenzie out of Viktor’s grasp. At the time, I had no idea how to do it. I just wanted to get her away from him. But now that the time has come to make a move, I’m worried about the risk. I mean, she’s fed and healthy, and she gets to do crafts. If this doesn’t go right…”

“I get it. There’s some comfort in inaction, since the kids are not in immediate danger. But that won’t last forever. This is our chance to get them back. Kenzie might be okay right now, and I’m glad, but she’s not happy. She misses her mother. We have to do this.”

“You’re right. I know that. Just tell me this is all going to be okay.” She rested her forehead on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her back, feeling the tension in her shoulders.

“It’s going to be okay. My team is the best. You can trust us.”

She let out a breath and nodded. “I do trust you,” she whispered. “Completely.”