His head tipped back so he could look at himself in the mirror, he held his own gaze for several beats and I waited. He made me wait awhile before he straightened, turned, my hand dropped from his back and I held my breath at what I saw in his face when he finally caught my eyes.

“Woulda talked you into namin’ a boy Jack, we had one. Jacqueline, we had a girl,” he whispered and I closed my eyes and swallowed back the pain.

He’d wanted kids and I did too. Even back in the day, both of us young, we’d talked about it. We didn’t talk about it a lot but we talked about it enough that it was understood, when we made it official, we weren’t going to waste time building a family. Then he went through the heartbreak of Melanie not being able to conceive. Now, with him forty-four and me forty-two and us just starting out again and needing time, it wasn’t impossible but it also maybe wasn’t smart for us to try to start a family at this juncture. If we tried and it didn’t happen, we’d both just have more heartbreak and we’d had enough of that.

His hand came to the back of my neck, curling around, warm and reassuring and I loved it when he did that. Even now, when yet another thing Denny stole from us tore through our consciousness, his hand there felt good, it felt right and it made the pain hurt a whole lot less.

“Honey,” he called and I opened my eyes.

“You wouldn’t have had to talk me into that,” I told him and he grinned, not a happy grin or one filled with humor. It was a grin that broke my heart.

“Don’t ‘spect I would,” he said.

I moved closer and his hand at my neck gave me a squeeze as his other arm went around my waist. I put my palms on his bare chest and pressed my cheek there.

“You think there’ll come a time when this shit quits hittin’ us, stuff we missed, things he stole?”

“Yeah, baby,” he said reassuringly, though I didn’t quite believe him mainly because he didn’t sound like he believed himself.

“You sure?”

Another squeeze at my neck. “Yeah.”

I nodded, my cheek sliding against the warm skin of his chest.

“One thing…” I started and then my throat closed and I couldn’t go on.

This time I got a squeeze from his arm at my waist before he prompted, “Baby?”

I cleared my throat and slid my hands around him, holding him around his waist too.

“One thing,” I said into his chest, “one thing that’s good, Colt, and that is, every day, for all these years, I thought of you, dozens of times a day. Every day. Every single fucking day.”

“February,” Colt whispered.

“Still do, except, now… it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His hand at my neck went into my hair and gave it a tug. When my head went back, his face was already there and his mouth was on mine.

Colt tasted of toothpaste when he kissed me and I thought it was the best thing I ever tasted in my life.

“What’s takin’ so long?” Morrie bellowed, Colt’s head came up and this time he was grinning with humor.

“Shut up, Morrie! We’ll be out in a second,” I shouted back, still holding Colt close.

“Get the lead out, I’m hungry,” Morrie was still bellowing and I heard Tuesday giggle.

My body melted further into Colt’s. “He’s a pain in the ass,” I noted but having Colt in my arms and my family in the other room, I went on. “Still, I love Sundays.”

“Best day of the week,” Colt replied.

I smiled before I agreed, “Absolutely.”

“Baby?” he called like I wasn’t in his arms.

“Yeah?”

“We got a lifetime of Sundays ahead of us,” he reminded me.

I tipped my head to the side and I felt my smile change and the only word I could think to say to express how happy this idea made me was, “Yeah.”

Then I decided Morrie could wait a bit longer, so could the Feds, so could protective custody and I got up on my toes and kissed Colt in our bathroom.

* * *

Colt sat at his desk at the Station, Sean in the chair by the desk, Sully across from him.

Colt was antsy but he needed to get this done.

February was at the bar, she’d wanted to go there, sort some things out, preparing, like Colt was now, to be away.

Marty, in plainclothes, was there playing bodyguard.

This was why Colt was antsy. Chris had done night duty, which was good. Colt could trust that Chris would stay alert all night. Marty, Colt couldn’t trust and he wasn’t happy leaving Feb at the bar even though Morrie was there, as was Darryl and, although they weren’t yet open, Joe-Bob had already been let in and was in his seat. It wasn’t exactly an army of protection but Denny and a hatchet would have some troubles getting through four men to get to Feb.

But Colt had a bad feeling in his gut, he’d woken up with it and it hadn’t gone away. And when he had this feeling, he didn’t want to be away from Feb. Therefore, even with four men between her and the possibility of Denny showing, Colt was still antsy.

Warren and Rodman were waiting for Colt to lay his caseload on Sean before they handed Colt and February over to the US Marshalls to take to the safe house. They were antsy too. Visibly so. Time enough had lapsed for Denny to hit town and they wanted this done so they could focus on the hunt.

“You’ll only be gone a day, two tops,” Sean said and Colt nodded, hoping Sean was right.

“Though, in that time, shouldn’t be hard for you to track down our guy,” Colt replied, talking about the stoned out burglar. “He should have gone through his stash by now and is likely looking to score again.”

Sean nodded back at Colt as three phones rang simultaneously and the vibe in the room suddenly went electric.

Colt tensed and his eyes sliced to Sully who was watching him as he leaned toward his phone. Sully didn’t get it to his ear before Colt heard footsteps coming up the stairs, fast.

He swiveled in his chair to see it was Betsy. She took one look at Colt, her face pale, her eyes filled with fear, that weight in Colt’s gut turned solid as an anvil and Betsy said breathlessly, “Shots fired at J&J’s.”

* * *

“Quiet,” Denny clipped.

I swallowed, turning around in my seat in the car to look at Melanie. I gave a shake of my head to the obviously petrified Melanie, who’d just been whining, making low keening noises around the gag in her mouth and doing this mainly because she was scared out of her brain.

“Sweetheart,” Denny called, his voice soft and loving and I knew he was talking to me.

I turned my eyes to him, I didn’t want to, but I did.

Light brown hair, good haircut, blue eyes, decent build, probably a couple inches taller than me, he looked like Denny, but a bit older.

And he was covered in blood. Joe-Bob’s blood, Darryl’s blood, maybe even Marty’s blood.

And his blue eyes were wild. I’d never seen eyes like that and they scared me more than the blood, more than what I’d just seen at the bar because I knew he wasn’t done.

I swallowed again and fought back the tears that were stinging the backs of my eyes and the scream that was lodged in my throat.

“You know, even when I was with her,” Denny went on, jerking his head toward the backseat where Melanie was tied up and gagged, “I only wanted you.”

“I know,” I forced out, my voice sounding ragged, thinking it prudent to play his game and trying not to think of much else.

“It’s only ever been you, February,” Denny said.

“I know,” I repeated and closed my eyes tight before I looked back out the front windscreen. Then I swallowed and called, “Alec?” and using Colt’s name to address Denny made me feel like I had acid poured on my tongue.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Denny answered.

I searched for the courage I needed and pulled it up. “Can we just let her go?”

“Sweetheart.”

“I don’t want her here.”

“Oh,” Denny replied, “I’ll take care of her.”

Melanie squeaked in terror and I closed my eyes tight again.

That’s what I was afraid of.

* * *

There was a cruiser, lights still flashing, at the front of J&J’s and more sirens could be heard in the distance when Colt ran toward the front door. Sean and Warren were at his heels, Sully and Rodman not far behind them.

He had his gun in his hand but before he hit the door it flew open and Adam, a uniform, shot out, his hand to the radio at his shoulder, his mouth turned there.

“Officer down, J&J’s Saloon, I repeat, officer down, J&J’s Saloon.”

Adam didn’t even look at Colt as he ran to the trunk of the cruiser to get the first aid kit.

Colt ran into the bar.

Joe-Bob was by the front door, slashed to shit, blood everywhere. Colt didn’t even have to check to know he was dead.

He crushed down the rage that threatened to burn through him and saw Marty five feet away, on his back, covered in blood and looking either dead or, God willing, unconscious. Ellen, Adam’s partner, was on her knees beside him. At one glance Colt saw Marty took at least three bullets into the vest he was luckily wearing. Unfortunately, he also took one in the neck.

“Feb?” Colt asked Ellen, she shook her head, that anvil twisted, scoring against the lining of his gut. “Marty?” Colt went on.

“Breathing,” Ellen replied.

“Morrie?”

“Out back,” Ellen said, holding a bar towel to Marty’s neck and Colt ran to the back.

Darryl was on his ass in the alley, his face gray and pinched with pain, his back to the brick wall of the bar, blood spatters could be seen up his neck. Morrie was crouched beside him, his back to Colt, his body hiding Darryl’s.

“Morrie,” Colt called, Morrie twisted and Colt got a look at his friend and saw he was unharmed. Then he got a look at Darryl and skidded to a halt.

“Fuck!” Colt hissed and pulled his phone out of his back pocket.

“We need to get him to a hospital,” Morrie’s voice was soft and calm but it had an edge.

“Feb?” Colt replied, the phone to his ear and ringing.

“He got her. I’m sorry, boss. I –” Darryl started.

“Quiet, Darryl, just be still,” Morrie hushed him and Colt’s call connected.

“ETA on ambulances at J&J’s?” Colt asked Jo in dispatch but he heard the sirens out front.

“Should be there, Colt,” Jo replied.

“Darryl’s in the back, the alley,” Colt told her, looked over Darryl’s injuries and continued, “been hacked, also, what I can see, been shot.”

“Got it, Colt,” Jo said but Colt was already flipping his phone shut.

He skirted Morrie, went around Darryl’s legs and crouched at Darryl’s other side.

“I need to know which way they went. You see that?” he asked Darryl.

“Right, out the alley,” Darryl answered, his head tipping to the left, telling Colt where he’d last seen the car, his voice as pinched as his face.

“What was he drivin’?” Colt went on.

“White Ford Taurus. Didn’t get a number but it was an Oklahoma plate,” Darryl answered.

Colt put his hand to Darryl’s shoulder as the paramedics came running out the backdoor carrying their kit but he ignored them and said softly to Darryl, “Good.”

“Came in the front but was parked in the back. He got Joe-Bob first,” Darryl continued. “Crazy Joe-Bob went right at him, even though that guy came in swingin’. Then he started shootin’, didn’t hesitate, took down the cop before he even got his gun outta his holster,” Darryl finished as Morrie moved away and the paramedics moved in.

“Just relax, Darryl,” Colt urged.

“I told Feb to run, she did but he ran after her. He shot at me, hit me but I tried –”

“Relax.”

“Lieutenant, move away,” the paramedic ordered and Colt didn’t hesitate, he moved.

By that time Warren and Rodman were in the alley as was Sully and Colt moved to them.

“White Taurus, Oklahoma plates, north out the alley,” Colt said, pointing in the direction Darryl indicated and Warren opened his phone as did Sully.

“I was at Mimi’s,” Morrie whispered. “Feb wanted a latte. I was at Mimi’s gettin’ her a latte.”

“Morrie, hold it together, man,” Colt said.

“I was gettin’ her a fuckin’ latte.”

“Morrie, keep it together.”

Morrie twisted his neck, his hand coming to the collar of his t-shirt and he pulled himself together but his eyes went to Colt’s and he said, “That asshole’s got my sister.”

Colt knew that. He knew it. He felt that knowledge weighing heavy in his gut.