Sinead cocked the chamber, checked to see that it was loaded and made sure the safety was on. “Level with me. Is Garrett Huntley a real threat?”
“Yep,” she answered. “To slightly framed trusting wives. Not to Declan.”
“Then let’s go kick a little ass.”
* * *
“Dude, you know you lost that argument,” Flynn pointed out. They were still sitting in the study, going over the plan one more time.
Declan grunted. “If I had any real concerns, I would lock her up somewhere and let her get pissed at me later, but I’m trusting you and Jillian to have my back.”
“Nothing will hurt her. I promise you that.”
“Good.”
Flynn hesitated for a moment and then decided he needed to say something. Mary might be annoyed with him, but that wouldn’t be much of a change to how she’d been treating him since the attack. He didn’t know what to say to her. He didn’t know how to get through the ice.
She was his friend, beyond being Dec’s sister. What she’d said that morning had been shitty and she knew it. Even if he understood why she said it. Eventually, she would come around. She had to, because he couldn’t lose her.
“Can we talk about Mary for a second?”
Declan raised an eyebrow.
In that small motion was everything anyone needed to know how Dec felt about his sister. Protective. Defensive. Mary had lived with that layer of protection her entire life.
Flynn wondered if at times that blanket might have been a little suffocating.
“What do you want to discuss?”
“I’m worried about her,” Flynn admitted. “Physically she’s healed. But you and I know he did more damage than that.”
Declan sighed. “Of course I know it. The bones have mended. The rest… I don’t know how to get through to her. She blames herself for not seeing it. I blame myself for letting it happen. We’ve gotten to the point, I hope, where we know we both need to let it go. Only time is going to fix that.”
Flynn didn’t want to talk about where he felt the blame really resided. Or more importantly, where Mary did.
“I think she needs to see someone. Talk to someone.”
“A therapist?” Declan asked.
“Maybe. Someone beyond Jillian. Jillian is a friend, but she’s…”
“Hard,” Declan acknowledged.
“Right. And Mary is nothing but soft. Too damn soft.”
Declan blinked. “That sounded a little harsh.”
Had it? He hadn’t meant to sound angry, but that was how he was feeling. “I don’t know that we’ve done her any favors by protecting her from everything and anything. I don’t think we gave her the skills to even see a guy like Huntley coming.”
“We?” Dec asked, clearly putting emphasis on Flynn’s use of the word. “Mary was mine. My blood, my remaining family, mine to protect and care for. If you’re questioning how I raised her, then say what you have to say. You’ve been friend enough to both of us to have that right. But don’t mistake whose responsibility she is.”
That pissed Flynn off too.
He and Dec had grown tight after working a three-month-long assignment in Afghanistan. Circumstances required mutual trust, something neither man had been familiar with at the time. They had learned quickly they could count on each other.
More than that, they understood each other.
It seemed a natural progression to join their efforts on future assignments. Flynn had the military contacts Dec needed. Dec had the financial assets Flynn wanted.
Then one day Dec sprang a secret sister on him. Something he’d never told anyone else. Declan had decided to bring her to the States for high school, and he needed someone he could trust with her security should something happen to him while working.
The first time Flynn met Mary, he’d loomed over her like a massive beast. Just back from assignment, he’d still been in his kill-or-be-killed head space. His edges so damn hardcore, he was fairly certain she peed her pants when he offered her his hand. But she’d shaken it. Tilted that little chin of hers up and gave him a firm single pump.
From that moment, she’d been his too.
“This isn’t about me critiquing your big brother skills. I get how you are. Hell, I treated her the same way. She’d gotten a raw deal. No father, no real mother. Neither one of us wanted to see her hurt any more than that. I’m just saying maybe we were both a little overbearing. Maybe we should have let her fight a few more of her own battles. Toughen her up for what life was going to throw at her.”
“That’s where we disagree, brother. I don’t want anything thrown at her.”