Nine years, eight months
Alace

Laying back on the poolside lounge that was arranged to give the best possible view of the ocean stretching out towards the horizon, Alace grinned at the constant babble of conversation that filled the background. Rough fingers found hers, and she didn’t have to turn to know they belonged to her husband. He gave a squeeze, then laughed while he started a running commentary on what was happening in his mother’s kitchen.

“Bebe’s in heaven, beloved.” Alace knew that to be true, Phoebe had confided as much to her yesterday when they’d arrived for a visit. Seeing her grandchildren always brought her an undeniable joy, so much it made Alace’s throat clog with tears every time. “She’s got both Lila and Tracey on stepstools helping her bake what appears to be a cake. This might be a failed endeavor. We’ll have to wait and see. But I would argue there might be more batter on our children than in the bowl at this point.” Eric’s voice vibrated with humor. “She loves it, baby. I’ve never seen my mother this happy.”

Alace twisted, looking over her shoulder at the scene unfolding before her. Tall, elegant Phoebe was bracketed on either side by a child, each with Eric’s golden-brown hair, and though she couldn’t tell from this distance, Alace knew their faces held his eyes, too. Eight-year-old Lila and her five-year-old little sister loved their grandmother to distraction, counting down the days between visits with all the intensity children brought to everyday life.

Movement to the side pulled her attention, and she turned, smiling as Eric’s face grew near, closing her eyes when his lips brushed hers in a soft caress.

“God, I love you,” she whispered when he pulled back, and got to see one of her favorite things happen as Eric’s eyes lit from within. He bent back to her and kissed her again, this one hard and closed-mouthed, powerful. Possessive. As always. She grinned.

“I love you, too.” His fingers squeezed again, then disappeared, the heat and pressure of his palm reappearing on her belly. “Are you ready to tell her the news yet?”

Alace shook her head, smiling at him. “Not yet. I want to hold off another couple of weeks.” She heard her phone buzz once, then a second and third time, quick on the heels of the first.

Eric sighed and shook his head, tracing along her cheek with the tip of his nose. “You see to that. I’ll go make sure my mother isn’t promising the girls their own ponies.” Horses had become Tracey’s latest thing, with her profession declarations running the gamut from veterinarian to mounted police. She was always on the go, and the more fraught with danger the activity, the bigger her smile. Lila was their sensitive, quiet child, the one who seemed destined for a career in the arts. The stories she spun during quiet times were intricate and detailed, and Alace found herself wanting to capture them in some way. She rolled her eyes. Since I’m a writer and all, you’d think I’d know how to do that.

She shifted, put her feet on the cement apron surrounding the pool, and reached for her phone. She studied the alerts for a moment, then called to Eric as she stood, “I’ve got to get on the computer. I’ll be as fast as I can.”

He grunted, moving at her side towards the house, and she glanced up to see he was still smiling, focused on his mother with their children. “Lemme know if you need longer, baby.”

Walking beside him, she leaned close, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her lips to his bicep. “Will do.” Passing through the kitchen, she moved close to the girls and kissed the sides of their heads loudly. “Back in a jiffy, my babies.”

In their bedroom, Alace retrieved her bag, taking out a laptop and battery. She assembled and booted the device up, waiting for it to cycle through the various checks she’d built into the operating system. Logging in took another series of keystrokes, with multiple factor authentication just to get into the computer, and then another series of cryptic connections to get to the system that had sent the alerts.

Scanning the messages, she found what she was looking for and took her time reading, then re-reading, flipping back and forth to review other data before she responded. Sending a series of texts, she informed the recipient of her take on the situation, giving an educated opinion on what should happen next.

Alace spent another thirty minutes checking in, looking through uploaded documents on a variety of cases she was currently managing. She then sorted additional nonurgent requests, prioritizing them to review in closer detail later tonight.

Alace had taken Regg’s place.

Sort of.

Accepting a new role in the ecosystem of reprisals, she had garnered the respect of the community by cultivating hunters with an exceptional sense of honor, the only way she would consent to work with anyone. She still wasn’t driven by the money, even if it was good. Half of all she earned went to charity, same as it always had. No, what got her blood rushing was the chance to set right things that had gone badly awry. Making a difference in the life of a victim, and along the way ensuring serial offenders lost any opportunity to continue their path of pain.

She’d never gone back out on a gig personally, having retired from that aspect entirely. But with Regg’s contacts in hand, shifting her part to the one coordinating resources for a successful end had turned out to be unexpectedly rewarding. She knew Eric had worried. A lot. And he wasn’t wrong in his concern. After spending so long going from challenge to challenge, with the wash of adrenaline a constant companion, Alace knew there would be no life in which she could be “normal.” The biggest barrier was taking what she needed and mixing it with what was available, and doing it in a way that left her fulfilled while letting Eric get behind it without having to wrestle with his conscience every step of the way. His ethics weren’t something she was willing to sacrifice, so she’d struggled until she finally found a balance that suited them both. Revenge wasn’t only couched in final terms. Sometimes making them live with what they’d done was sweeter.

Writing was still her camouflage, covering a wide array of disappearances and odd occurrences. No one in town—save Todd, who she was convinced knew everything—had a clue that Douglas County was harboring the mastermind behind some of the most nationally-famous arrests of the past decade.

Within an hour, she was back in the kitchen, laughing aloud at the image of Eric standing next to his mother with cake batter smeared across his cheek and spoon in hand while their children ran laughing through the house.

Walking to him, Alace swiped a finger through the chocolate and tucked it into her mouth, savoring both the flavor and the heat that darkened his whiskey-brown eyes, thinking she could watch the hunger build on his face for at least seventeen lifetimes. He is just so damned …

“Sweet.”

~