Silence. Heavy. But not empty.
Snow dropped to her knees, her small hand steady on his leg. “We’re all broken, Watchdog. Some of us just hide it better.”
Titan crouched on his other side, still holding one shoulder. “Speak for yourself. I’m flawless.”
Sebastian gave him a look dry enough to cut steel. “You’re loud. That’s not the same thing.”
“Your cooking’s the real trauma,” Hurricane added smoothly, his voice calm again, warm even. “You ever grill chicken again and I’m calling the Hague.”
A shaky laugh tore out of Watchdog’s chest, startling even himself. His hands still trembled, but the crushing weight in his ribs eased just a fraction.
The others sprawled with him on the mat, ribbing each other, their banter fond and biting. The sound wrapped around him like armour.
And for the first time in months, the itch under his skin quieted. Not gone, but less sharp.
Maybe tonight, he’d let a few of his demons go.
But then the laughter ebbed, the silence folding in again, heavier this time.
Snow’s smile softened. She shifted, her hand still on his knee. “You think you’re the only one who wakes up in the night screaming?” Her voice dropped, losing its playful edge. “My father strapped a bomb to me, Watchdog. I can still feel the weight of it sometimes. Still hear the tick. I have nightmares every week.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened. He reached for her hand without hesitation, his fingers locking around hers. “And I’ll never forgive myself for not getting to her before they tortured her. That guilt doesn’t fade. But I live with it. We both do. Together.”
Snow’s gaze flicked to him, her expression softening into something fierce and tender all at once. It was the look of someone who had clawed her way back from hell and found her anchor.
Hurricane cleared his throat, his deep voice rolling low. “I nearly lost my sight to that tumour. Thought my life was over, that I wouldn’t be able to fly again, that Peyton would look at me and see a half-man. And then she was attacked. I had to face the fact that we both carry scars. Visible or not.” His dark eyes found Watchdog’s. “I still see flashes. Still feel the burn. But I’m here. We’re here.”
The weight of their words pressed into him, not crushing but grounding.
He looked from one to the other: Snow’s fierce honesty, Sebastian’s guilt worn openly, Hurricane’s calm strength, and something shifted inside him. The tight coil of shame loosened just a little.
They weren’t saying it to comfort him. They were saying it because it was the truth. Because this was what family looked like.
Snow squeezed his knee once more. “Trauma isn’t failing, Watchdog. PTSD isn’t a weakness. It’s proof you survived.”
Sebastian nodded firmly. “It’s living.”
Hurricane leaned back, arms folded, voice steady. “And you don’t carry it alone. Not here.”
For the first time since South Africa, Watchdog believed it.
Chapter 16
They’d givenher more freedom, along with introducing her to everyone. Not much, but enough to allow her to feel less like the captive she was last night. A keycard that unlocked certain doors was a small victory she clutched like a lifeline. It meant she wasn’t only a prisoner. It meant she could move, explore, breathe.
That was how she ended up in the corridor outside the gym.
She’d been wandering, fingertips brushing the cool stone, when sound reached her first, thuds, grunts, the faint rhythm of voices. Curious, she followed it, pausing at the double doors left slightly ajar.
The scene inside stole her breath.
Watchdog was in the ring with Hurricane, both men slick with sweat under the bright lights. His chest was bare, the pale skin covering his muscles rippling with each movement. At first, it looked controlled, almost like a training drill. His movements were brutal, beautiful, almost like a dance.
But then something changed. His movements turned wild, desperate. His fists flew too fast, too hard. Hurricane moved faster to counter the vicious, almost wild, strikes Watchdog washurling at him. The others, Titan, Sebastian, and Snow, surged in like a well-oiled machine. Each one automatically knowing their place, their position.
“Pull him!” Sebastian’s voice was sharp, urgent.
Titan vaulted the ropes, his arms wrapping around Watchdog’s shoulders like steel bands. Hurricane tried to disengage, but Watchdog drove at him again, fists flying.
