His broad shoulders rose and fell in a casual shrug. “Since your last visitor

left a footprint by the doorknob, I thought knocking would be overrated.”

His unexpected quip snuck under my guard and made my lips twitch. I

covered my reaction with a delicate snort. “Why are you here?”

Instead of answering, he asked, “Spoken to Tag lately?”

“No.” A stone settled in my stomach, and I blinked at the unexpected sting of

my former teammate’s name. Answering a question with a question. Nice

diversionary tactic. What did good ol’ Tag have to do with anything? “Been a little busy.”

Kayden’s curse was too soft to catch. “He was going to call you.”

“Well if he did, I didn’t get a message.” I squashed the twinge of guilt at the

lie, recalling the second number on my cell that I had deliberately ignored for months. Using the staff I still held, I pushed to my feet and avoided his gaze.

“Besides, I just got back into town.”

He watched me stand. “Where were you?”

Resentment rose at the implied order underlying his question. Keeping my

face pleasantly blank, I met his gaze. “In case it slipped your mind, Shaw, I no

longer answer to the Corps.” Some of my fury slipped through. “Since I’m a private citizen, why don’t you get the hell out of my house.” I stepped over his

legs and headed back to the front of the house.

“Cyn.”

The seriousness in his tone and the strong fingers wrapped around my calf stopped me, but I didn’t look down.

“You need to listen.”

Couldn’t miss the order in that one. Alpha males might be fun on the pages

of a book, but in real life they were a pain in my ass. Based on his current fashion choices, Kayden couldn’t possibly still be in active service, so there was

no reason to follow his orders ever again. What was the worst he could do? Haul

me back before a kangaroo court? Been there, done that, didn’t even get to keep

the T-shirt.

Yanking my leg free, I headed toward the kitchen. If I was lucky, he’d leave.

I set the walking stick against the counter and grabbed a glass. Sticking it under the tap, I let it fill, using the familiar motions to still the small tremors wracking my body. Unfortunately, the sound of the front door closing never came. I got a few small sips in before my attempt to calm was interrupted.

“If you won’t talk to me, then call Tag.” For such a big man, Kayden moved

like a cat.

Persistent little bugger. My fingers tightened on the glass that was halfway to my lips, then I took one last, deliberate sip before setting my glass on the counter with studied care. I turned to the man who once fascinated me beyond reason, and found him leaning against the entryway, his arms crossed, and blocking any

chance of escape. Obviously, I wasn’t leaving until he got what he wanted.

Mimicking his pose, I drawled, “My cell doesn’t get reception out here.” Not

entirely true, but his attitude left me obstinate.

“You have a land line.” He nodded to the blinking answering machine sitting

on the counter.

My priority was Kelsey, not whatever crap was dodging Kayden and Tag, but

my fickle curiosity perked up. “Why would you think I’d want to talk to Tag any

more than I want to talk to you?”

His wince was hastily veiled, but not before I caught it. That tiny tell ignited

a spurt of dark satisfaction from the less charitable part of me that was buried deep. He didn’t answer.

Not a shocker. Did he really think the silent male thing worked? Studying his rigid position, icy fingers of suspicion slid along my spine. Why was he here now? Just when Kelsey had felt someone watching her, asking questions about me?

Pushing away from the counter’s edge, I closed the distance between us.

With each step I took, his jaw tightened. When only a few inches remained, I stopped.

It took concentrated effort to set aside my resentment and mistrust, but when

I succeeded, I compared the staticky image from my trip into the past against the

very real, flesh and blood male in front of me. Kayden stood a couple of inches

taller than whoever attacked Kelsey, which put him a good six inches above me.

But more telling, his shoulders were broader. It took a great deal of fortitude to

study his chiseled face and not be intimidated. He watched me, his gaze carrying

the weight of other, shared memories, untouched by hurt and pain. It didn’t matter, couldn’t matter. Holding out my hands palms up, I waited.