An eyebrow that was bisected by the first flaw I’d ever seen on Xander—a scar that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen him. A thin, short scar that had me fighting back the urge to throw up my lunch all over the driveway.

The scar I’d put there when I’d thrown him through Mr. Williamson’s window.

Xander was halfway up the stairs when the front door flew open and Gideon ran from the house.

“He has a gun!” he shouted.

Xander froze, pivoting to watch Gideon race down the steps toward me.

“I’m sorry?” I pinned Gid with a stare, hoping he’d correct that asinine statement.

“He has the shotgun! Dorothy just told me. We have a couple search parties coming in from the Bradley side.” Gid strode past me, already talking into the radio on his shoulder.

“How the hell does Dad have access to the shotgun?” I growled at Xander.

“I…” He shook his head. “I thought I had them all locked in the safe. I hid the key and everything.”

“In the laundry room?” Dorothy asked as she walked onto the porch, holding a familiar, faded bottle of fabric softener. Time had apparently decided it was done with Mrs. Powers, because she hadn’t changed in the ten years that had passed since I’d enlisted. Her hair was the same shade of silver in the same chin-length cut. She even wore the same green winter coat.

“Yeah, right above—” Xander sighed, his eyes sliding shut. “Right above the fabric softener he refuses to use.”

“This fabric softener that I found in the entry hall?” she asked, giving him one hell of a “mom” look.

“That would be it.” A muscle flexed in his jaw.

“Tell me you stored the ammo separately.” Tell me you at least remembered that much from serving your three years.

Xander blanched. Awesome.

“Let’s find him before he kills someone.” I turned on my heel and headed back to the Jeep. Oddly enough, I was more comfortable with guns than I was with mushy reunions.

I dropped my coat, climbed up the Jeep, and popped the lock on the cargo carrier I’d anchored to the roof for the cross-country trip. Selling off just about everything I owned had seemed the logical choice at the time, but I’d held on to a few things for reasons I didn’t have time to examine.

“What are we going to do?” Xander asked, peering up at me.

“What do you mean?” I found what I was looking for and closed the carrier. Then I jumped to the ground, landing in front of Xander, whose eyes were bigger than my headlights.

Two more trucks and the APD pulled up the drive and parked.