exhausted, they both slept like the dead until until Sirena came wandering into their room, confused but curious as well.
“New house?”
“Yeah, baby. Climb in here.”
“Where Manali?” her chubby little chin quavered.
“We’ll see her soon, baby. Promise. We’re just on a little vacation.”
Dax nestled Sirena between them. Ah, morning snuggles. They had a special way of making problems seem far away. But as it turned out, problems were dancing closer and closer, on the horizon of their happily ever after—threatening to take it all away in a big tidal wave of shit.
***
It had been a few days and they were all still adjusting to being back in Darling. Dax was tense and irritated to the point that Rhee was afraid to make demands, but she wanted to see the guys—Hawk and Gray, especially. She wanted them to meet Sirena. But, there was excuse after excuse about why the clubhouse was off-limits right now. Rhee sighed. If he wasn’t fucking her or trying to fuck her morning, noon, and night, she’d be worried.
Goddamn it, they have to make these pee sticks easier to use.
Rhee was sick to death of peeing on her hand. After remembering that hormone levels were typically higher in the morning, she was trying to test right when she woke up, but Sirena usually had other plans. She had to go potty, she wanted her milk, she was starving...it was all part of the typical mom routine and Rhee loved it, but it was damn near impossible to pee on a stick the second she got up, let alone hide what she was doing from her very perceptive three-year old.
Oh, she could hear it now. The questions could come at any time, to anybody. Most of the time, Sirena’s random comments were to complete strangers.
At the grocery store. The gas station. The local burger joint .
“Do ya know? My mommy pees on sticks!”
Rhee was not yet used to this stage—when her daughter blurted out things related to bodily functions and other embarrassing things in the most inappropriate places. Dax thought it was hilarious. Rhee was still trying to decide how to respond to her comments and questions.
Fuck, still negative. So why do I feel bloated and hormonal?
Her boobs hurt. She was tired. Moody. All of that equaled pregnant, didn’t it? Rhee didn’t recall having many pregnancy symptoms early on with Sirena, but the end of her pregnancy was hell, pure and simple.
Dax needs to hook me up with a doctor.
Later, Rhee would remember that thought and wonder about it. Because that innocent little mental comment turned out to be a premonition of something that was going to shake things up even more. That something—or some one —rang Dax’s doorbell a few moments later.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bingo! This has got to be what we’re looking for.
Around two in the morning, Wince was finally into the federal database. He bypassed a bunch of firewalls and gained access to some very high-level emails. One of the exchanges had a file attached to it. It was encrypted, but it only took him a few more hours to crack the code and open a spreadsheet that detailed safe houses, occupants, and agents.
Fuckers should have hired me.
His heart was beating fast as he opened the document and scanned it. Then, he scanned it again. Her name wasn’t there.
No Michaela Blake.
Wince stared at his computer screen. His fucking eyes were crossing. Every road he went down on the wayward sister search lead to a dead end. Carter was on loan to the feds and the new guy was on their payroll but he was really green—the kid was no help at all.
He had exhausted his leads.
Where the fuck is she?
If he couldn’t find a trace of her, it could only mean one thing. He refused to accept that because it meant that they would never learn the truth. Rhee would never know what happened and that would be worse than confirming a tragedy.
Wince was tired and he knew that the best thing to do would be to try to turn off his mind and sleep. But, he couldn’t. When he had spoken
“New house?”
“Yeah, baby. Climb in here.”
“Where Manali?” her chubby little chin quavered.
“We’ll see her soon, baby. Promise. We’re just on a little vacation.”
Dax nestled Sirena between them. Ah, morning snuggles. They had a special way of making problems seem far away. But as it turned out, problems were dancing closer and closer, on the horizon of their happily ever after—threatening to take it all away in a big tidal wave of shit.
***
It had been a few days and they were all still adjusting to being back in Darling. Dax was tense and irritated to the point that Rhee was afraid to make demands, but she wanted to see the guys—Hawk and Gray, especially. She wanted them to meet Sirena. But, there was excuse after excuse about why the clubhouse was off-limits right now. Rhee sighed. If he wasn’t fucking her or trying to fuck her morning, noon, and night, she’d be worried.
Goddamn it, they have to make these pee sticks easier to use.
Rhee was sick to death of peeing on her hand. After remembering that hormone levels were typically higher in the morning, she was trying to test right when she woke up, but Sirena usually had other plans. She had to go potty, she wanted her milk, she was starving...it was all part of the typical mom routine and Rhee loved it, but it was damn near impossible to pee on a stick the second she got up, let alone hide what she was doing from her very perceptive three-year old.
Oh, she could hear it now. The questions could come at any time, to anybody. Most of the time, Sirena’s random comments were to complete strangers.
At the grocery store. The gas station. The local burger joint .
“Do ya know? My mommy pees on sticks!”
Rhee was not yet used to this stage—when her daughter blurted out things related to bodily functions and other embarrassing things in the most inappropriate places. Dax thought it was hilarious. Rhee was still trying to decide how to respond to her comments and questions.
Fuck, still negative. So why do I feel bloated and hormonal?
Her boobs hurt. She was tired. Moody. All of that equaled pregnant, didn’t it? Rhee didn’t recall having many pregnancy symptoms early on with Sirena, but the end of her pregnancy was hell, pure and simple.
Dax needs to hook me up with a doctor.
Later, Rhee would remember that thought and wonder about it. Because that innocent little mental comment turned out to be a premonition of something that was going to shake things up even more. That something—or some one —rang Dax’s doorbell a few moments later.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bingo! This has got to be what we’re looking for.
Around two in the morning, Wince was finally into the federal database. He bypassed a bunch of firewalls and gained access to some very high-level emails. One of the exchanges had a file attached to it. It was encrypted, but it only took him a few more hours to crack the code and open a spreadsheet that detailed safe houses, occupants, and agents.
Fuckers should have hired me.
His heart was beating fast as he opened the document and scanned it. Then, he scanned it again. Her name wasn’t there.
No Michaela Blake.
Wince stared at his computer screen. His fucking eyes were crossing. Every road he went down on the wayward sister search lead to a dead end. Carter was on loan to the feds and the new guy was on their payroll but he was really green—the kid was no help at all.
He had exhausted his leads.
Where the fuck is she?
If he couldn’t find a trace of her, it could only mean one thing. He refused to accept that because it meant that they would never learn the truth. Rhee would never know what happened and that would be worse than confirming a tragedy.
Wince was tired and he knew that the best thing to do would be to try to turn off his mind and sleep. But, he couldn’t. When he had spoken
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