Raven wordlessly took the weapons and ammofirst, then moved on to the food. While he hauled himself out of the storage space and secured the hidden entrance, she started cleaning up. Jinx methodically stripped and cleaned his weapons, ensuring every part was in perfect working order. The steady, rhythmic motions kept his mind focused, a necessity when his thoughts threatened to drift somewhere he refused to go.
Before long, the scent of cooking filled the air, and his stomach growled in anticipation. Raven set two plates on the small wooden table, which she’d dusted earlier, given the years of neglect. “Eat,” she ordered.
Jinx sat, nodded his thanks, and dug in. He ate in silence but felt Raven watching him. She stayed quiet until he finished, then leaned back in her chair, arms crossed.
“When are you going to go see her?”
Jinx lifted his eyes, cocking his head. “Who?”
Raven’s gaze sharpened, cutting straight through him. “Don’t play dumb. When you came back from that mission, you were different. Everybody noticed. Some thought it was because you’d been undercover so long, climbing the cartel’s ranks. But I call bullshit.”
Jinx stiffened but said nothing.
“You were changed,” she continued. “Withdrawn. Introspective. You didn’t find joy in your friends anymore. You turned into a solitary person. The only reason I can see for that kind of transformation? You had a broken heart.” She studied him, then tilted her head. “Did she break it, or did you leave her and rip it out?”
Jinx leaned back in his chair, assessing his friend. “You’re a lot deeper than people give you credit for.”
Raven smirked and carried their empty plates into the kitchen. “And you’re dodging the question.”
“No,” he said simply. “I’m just not answering it.”
She pumped the old hand pump at the sink, drawing water with strong, steady movements. “So, you did love her,” she murmured, half to herself.
Jinx turned his head, staring out the window at the darkness beyond.Love her?Yeah, he’d loved her. He’d left his soul in Venezuela.
Eira was the only woman who’d ever made him consider walking away from Guardian. She was remarkable, unlike anyone he’d ever met. He still remembered the first time he’d seen her. It wasn’t under grand or dramatic circumstances. No, it had been something simple that had told him exactly who she was at her core.
He’d been deep in cartel territory when he’dfound an injured dog. Its leg had been mangled, clearly broken beyond his expertise to fix. The men he’d been with at the time had scoffed at his concern.
“Shoot it,” one of them had said as if the animal’s life were meaningless.
Jinx had known right then that he despised those men. He hadn’t said a word to them. He simply picked up the dog and started walking.
He’d been told that a veterinarian in town could help, and that had been where he’d first met Eira.
He’d always been better with animals than people. He understood them. Trusted them. He’d seen more compassion in a dog’s eyes than in most men’s. That belief had been ingrained in him since childhood.
His earliest memories were of working alongside his mother at an animal rescue. His father had traveled constantly, absent more often than not. But his mother had given him something more valuable than a traditional family. She’d taught him how to care for creatures that couldn’t fend for themselves.
The rescue took in the injured, the sick, and the dying. It was a place of solace, of healing. Jinx had spent every afternoon after school cleaning cages, feeding the animals, and, on the worst days, he helped remove the ones who didn’t make it. Thosehad been the hardest days. Those had been the days that had cut into his soul.
The shelter had struggled to survive. It had been twenty acres of prime real estate in California, land that developers salivated over. But his mother’s best friend, Lana, had been the owner and fought tooth and nail to keep it running.
He remembered the night it had all changed. His mother and Lana had been working late to process a delivery from a hoarder’s house packed with cats. He’d been in college at the time, buried in coursework. She’d told him to go home, study, and focus on his future.
He’d stayed as long as he could but finally relented and went home to study.
The cats had been in horrific condition. Malnourished and sick, their fur had been matted, and flea-infested skin had stretched thin over frail bones. Some had been too weak to stand, their wide, terrified eyes pleading for salvation. Jinx’s mother and Lana had planned to spend the entire night triaging the animals. Triage consisted of cleaning them up, feeding them, administering medical intervention. Basically doing everything they could before the vet arrived in the morning.
But morning never came.
Not for the cats.
Not for his mother.
Not for Lana.
Fire had ripped through the shelter in the dead of night. After the investigators had combed through the smoldering remains, their conclusion was swift and devastating. The fire had been set from the outside. Someone had intentionally burned the shelter to the ground.
