I woke to Dallas kneeling in front of me. He dabbed a cool compress to my temple. "Hey," he said in a comforting bedside voice.

"Hey."

As the fog cleared, my eyes focused on three dusty soldiers scowling down at me. Diesel, Blaze, and Rogan stood with their arms crossed and brows furrowed. They wore the same unmarked camo and the boots they'd worn when they rescued me in Kabul and they were covered in the same amount of dust and grime.

"Rogan." His beard covered his face, but his familiar pink lips showed through. "You're alive? Oh my God!"

He stared at me and pressed his mouth into a tight line.

"What's wrong?" They were the ones out fighting a war in the sand, and yet all their concentration drilled into me.

"You got beat up pretty bad." Dallas pressed something cold to my cheek. "Seeing a woman's face looking like yours is not easy for a man to take."

My skin throbbed and stung where he'd touched it. I took the compress from him and lowered it to the couch. Why were they all fussing over me like this? "I'll be fine. It's not the first time my fath—" Rogan growled and balled his fists. "Uh, I'll recover. I'm fine." I took a deep breath and looked around the room. Black leather couch, a card table in the nook off the kitchen. Rogan's old apartment? "We can't be in here. Someone else lives in this apartment now."

"Not anymore," Rogan responded, his voice hoarse.

"Oh. Where did he go?"

Takoda sauntered up to the couch and panted her doggie breath on me. I managed to sit up without getting dizzy and pat her head. "Takoda, I was so worried about you. You're back. What happened to your ear?"

Knocking on the door interrupted us. Rogan pulled his phone out of his pocket, checked it, and showed it to Dallas. "You know him?"

Dallas squinted and examined the screen. He pinched his nose. "I saw him at Siege earlier."

Rogan showed me the phone. "You know this guy?"

The video showed Lachlan Cutlass, still wearing his beard and ball cap, standing outside Rogan's apartment door.

"That's Lance Croft," I replied.

"Also known as Lachlan Cutlass," Dallas added.

"He was at the club?" Rogan asked Dallas.

"Yeah."

In one swift motion, Rogan opened the door, lowered his shoulder, and careened into a wide-eyed Lachlan. They collided with a grunt and tussled into the hall, thunking into the wall in the corridor.

Takoda trailed on Rogan's heels. She barked and snarled, standing alert with her hackles up, her whole body pointed and waiting to pounce.

Blaze, Diesel, and Dallas watched the brawl, but didn't move to help.

The crunch of a fist connecting with someone's flesh echoed in the hallway. "Stop! Stop!" My feeble voice didn't carry over the ruckus. I sat up, but the room tilted and I moaned.

Dallas held me down by my shoulder. "Take it easy, Tessa."

"Aren't you going to stop them?" Why was no one breaking up the fight?

"No."

"You guys! Enough! Please!" I screamed from my spot on the couch.

Rogan stalked back in and wiped his palms together. Lachlan followed him, breathing heavy and fixing his rumpled clothes. He wiggled his jaw with his hand and winced.

"Heel." Takoda sat at Rogan's feet, but her eyes dialed in on Lachlan and her ears pointed at him like monoliths.

Rogan's eyes shot bullets at Lachlan. "You freak. You go to that club and watch her dance in a fucking box hangin' from the ceiling?"

Lachlan stared at me with concern. His eyes narrowed when he saw my face and the cold compress on the couch. "Oh God, Tessa."

"You don't stay to walk her to her car?" Rogan stood between me and Lachlan.

Lachlan flicked his eyes to Rogan and side-stepped him. When he returned his attention to me, the concern was gone. Awareness and anger blanketed his gaze. "Who did this? Your father?"

"What the hell is your game? Leave her the fuck alone," Rogan said.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there." Despite Rogan's blazing anger, Lachlan kept his cool demeanor.

"It's not your fault. I'm fine. Rogan was there."

Lachlan looked to Rogan and nodded, thanking him. "She needs a doctor."

"Dallas was a medic. He's seeing to her."

"We should call the police."

"We're not calling the cops. I'll take care of Jeb Barebones."

"Do not fuck up my investigation." Lachlan pointed a finger at Rogan.

Rogan looked down at Lachlan's finger and clenched his fists like he was trying hard not to break it. "Your investigation is already fucked or you'd have swept that compound by now. Get the hell out!"

"Rogan, please. He's helping me."

Rogan looked from me to Lachlan. "Leave now. I need to talk to her."

"I'll call you tomorrow, Tessa. Rest tonight and then we'll figure out what to do next."

Rogan growled as he shoved Lachlan out the door.

***

"Take care, Tessa," Blaze called as he left the apartment with Diesel.

"Bye, guys. I'm so happy you're back."

"I'm sorry he got to you," Dallas said to me. "It won't happen again."

"It's not your fault. My father had his mind set on finding me. You couldn't stop him."

Dallas left me alone with Rogan and Takoda.

Rogan and Takoda were back.

My father knew where I worked.

My head throbbed trying to absorb all the facts on top of the shame from the beating tonight.

For six months, I'd focused on school and forging a new future. Today two men from the past slammed back into my life and collided in a blast of violence and pain.

"I thought you were dead."

"Not dead." He walked toward me with his hands loose by his sides.

I took a deep breath to calm the butterflies that had taken flight in my chest. "I'm so relieved. I can't believe you're here."

"I'm here." He kneeled next to the couch. "I should've gotten there sooner. I knew your dad would find you after you texted your sister."

"You saw my text to Temperance?"

"I was watching your phone. Got here as soon as I could. It took us six months to find our target and complete this mission. I'm sorry I was too late."

"You weren't too late. You saved me. Again."

He shook his head.

"Forgive me for contacting Temperance. It's created so much trouble."

"You never need to ask my forgiveness. We'll take care of it."

"Is that why you came back? To protect me from my father?"

"Part of it."

"What's the other part?"

He wrapped one big, warm hand around my neck and scrunched his fingers. "Missed you."

I sucked in a breath as the heat of his touch emanated through my body. "You missed me?"

"Mmm-hmm." His fingers trailed down and stopped on my ruby necklace. "Missed my Sunshine."

Gah! I missed him too. So much. I thought of him all the time, worrying he'd been killed. Despite the relief and joy I felt at seeing him again, I had to protect myself. He'd hurt me and could do it again without a second thought. I lifted his hand from my necklace and pushed it away. "Please, don't."

"You're hurt. Let me comfort you."

"I'm different now."

"How're you different? You still my brave girl who won't be intimidated?"

"Yes."

"Still dance around in sparkly jeans to Taylor Swift?"

I couldn't help the giggle that escaped. "Yes."

"Then let me hold you. Just tonight. Tomorrow we'll talk about what else may have changed or not. Maybe tomorrow I'll leave again or you'll send me away. For tonight, be safe in my arms."

My body screamed yes as he leaned in to put his hand behind my head. How could I refuse him after he'd come straight from combat to rescue me? I rested my forehead on his hard chest, letting the scent of dust and man drift into my nose. I needed to feel his strength to prove he was alive. I needed his reassuring embrace after my dad's attack. I'd probably regret it in the morning, but he was right. For tonight, we should hold on to each other.

He took off his boots and lined them up under the bench by the door. His eyes were glued to me as he removed his camo jacket. He'd done the same undressing routine the first night I stayed here. Back then, I wondered what the rest of his tattoo looked like. Now I know it's an E. I still don't know what it represents, and I don't know much more about the man who wears it.

He looked down at himself and quirked his lips. "I'll shower in a bit. Can you handle a little stank?"

I laughed. "Sure."

He lifted me gently and reclined on his back on the couch, situating me to his side, so my forehead rested on his chest and my leg draped over his knee. His hand swept my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear.

"You good?"

"Mmm-hmm." I was good. Rogan's warmth still soothed me like it did before he left. The shock of my father's attack and Rogan's return faded and started to become a memory. All that mattered was now. His mammoth chest surrounded me like a brick wall even Jebediah Barebones couldn't penetrate.

My hand on his hard chest found his dog tags through his shirt. I fingered the beaded string and flat metal plates. If he'd been killed, these dog tags would've come home without his warm body and beating heart.

I wasn't sure how I felt about God anymore, but I needed to thank someone for this.

Thank you, Lord, for bringing him home alive. No matter our future. Thank you for watching over him.

"I'm gonna wake you up in three hours to check you for a concussion."

"You don't need to do that. I'm fine."

"Doing it anyway. You wake up, take some pain meds, go back to sleep."

"Yes, sir."

His chest rumbled with his chuckle.