Chapter 84 - Will

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Will scratched his head as he left the bathroom, didn't bother with a shirt. He plopped in a chair, drank another bottle of water, and tried to remember what the fuck happened last night. He rubbed the back of his head over the scar tissue just above his hairline. The memories seemed to be out of order or missing again. Fuck, that kept happening. Didn't want to tell Ander he'd want him to get his brain scanned, and Mason would try some damn ritual. Probably just the booze. But it aggravated him when it happened on a mission.

Maeve moved past, still in her nightgown. He liked how it moved when she did; it was pretty. Pretty? Wanted to slap himself again. Still, he stared at her ass as she entered the bathroom. Might be annoyed at his childish romantic thoughts, but she had a fine ass and he wouldn't deny himself the sight. Beer should have a beer. He pulled one from the fridge and glanced at the half dozen empty liquor bottles. Couldn't recall buying them, but it was obvious he did. It was the good stuff, not the shit Ander'd bring back. Ander was at the table doing Ander things.

"Were you up all night? You figure anything out?" he opened and sipped the beer.

"I have not slept and yes, I may have figured out who the child was," Ander replied in his moody bitch tone. Was he pissed at him? Probably. Didn't matter, they had a job to do.

"Ok. Spill." Will pulled up a chair and sat next to Ander.

"We should wait for Maeve." Ander stared at the laptop screen.

"Why?" Why the fuck did that matter?

Ander stopped typing and turned to him, his jaw tight. "You are taking the she could be a sleeper agent or she might be a monster too far. Maeve requested to be involved, and you agreed. In fact, you agreed to take her to scout locations instead of leaving her here. I would have left her here. Stop being an asshole for the sake of being an asshole."

Will opened his mouth to tell Ander what he could do with his opinion when Ander dismissed him and turned back to his computer. Prick!

"It is not pleasant when someone acts like you do not exist. If Maeve does something to warrant your complete disregard for her as a human, fine. Otherwise stop," Ander started typing again.

Will wanted to punch him in the face, but stood and paced the room. Had every right to act, however, the fuck he wanted. Didn't answer to Ander. Didn't answer to anyone but himself. The bathroom door opened. Will spun to unleash his anger on Maeve, but she bit her lip. He remembered how they'd felt against his. The taste of her still lingered in his mind. He wanted more, needed more.

"I believe I know who the child is," Ander stood.

Will shook his head and flicked his eyes to Ander. Decided it was better to look at his lean cousin instead of Maeve's curves. Ander laid out the file and spread several photographs of people in old time clothing. Hated Victorian style clothing, too stuffy and proper.

"This the original owners?" he pointed to two severe looking people that sat together dressed in primarily black.

Ander nodded. "John and Louisa Beaumont. John built the house for his wife when they were married,"

Maeve leaned over and peered at the photograph. Typical for the times, man finds a woman, marries and builds a big fucking house to show how loaded he was. Will glanced at Maeve out of the corner of his eye. The memory of touching her in the shed hit him full force. He put his free hand down on the table to steady himself. Shit. Thought maybe he'd just kissed her, but if Ander hadn't shown up, probably would've fucked her. Why didn't he have any self-control with her?

"They look so unhappy," Maeve commented.

"It was common for the time; they did not encourage smiling in photographs. Also, the exposure time was significantly longer when taking a picture, so the subject had to remain perfectly still. If they moved, the photo was blurred." Ander slid another photograph to the front of the pile. Same two dour people, but with two kids, a girl and a boy.

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