He goes quiet until I lift my eyes to the mirror again. “That’s not the way we do things around here. And frankly, I’m tired of you looking at me with guilt every time the past comes up. You made the best decision with the information that you had, and your training is what kept me alive, kept me sane. Or at least as sane as anyone could be going through something like that.”
I shake my head, the guilt and shame washing over me again. “I knew it was a shitty scenario and damn near pulled you back, but I decided the data was important enough to send you in. And that’s on me.”
Jake raises his brow, lifting his hands in an open-arm gesture. “Yeah, I know. You told me. In the planning sessions, multiple times. You said, and I quote, ‘This whole thing smells bad, but we need that data. I have no idea what I’m sending you into.’ And what did I say?”
“What you always said. ‘Put me in, Coach.’”
“Exactly. You were open and honest with me. If I had pushed back, you wouldn’t have sent me. There’s no fucking way you knew waterboarding was on the menu. The people we were dealing with had no history of it, no record of the kind of things they did to me that night. Even though I would not repeat that night for anything in the world, at least something good came from it. And when you don’t forgive yourself for making the best decision you could, with the shitty information you had, it diminishes my sacrifice.”
I don’t cry in front of other people. That’s a hard and fast rule. One that I am breaking right now. Fuck those decisions. I grip my cane, and Jake’s hand is immediately on my back, sweeping up and down as he whispers calming words into my ear.
“Breathe with me, DB. In and out.”
Never once have I taken a direction from the man, but I let him lead me now. My breathing is initially ragged and oxygen-starved, but eventually, it slows down until I’m able to maintain a normal pattern. Jake leans down and picks up my cane, handing it to me. I don’t remember dropping it.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to be so dramatic on your big night.”
“I’m sorry I said something so thoughtless.”
“I don’t even think what you said was all that bad, I’m just annoyed that something so small set me off. I’m not even gonna try to sleep tonight,” I say, chuckling to myself.
“Look who you’re talking to, man. You saidblack-bagand I couldn’t breathe right for twenty minutes. You’re annoyed at the dramatics because that shit is super-dramatic and annoying.” Jake’s brows stitch together. “But seriously, you still get night terrors? Like, regularly?”
I nod as I wipe my eyes. “Sometimes I remember them, sometimes I don’t. If I wake up in the morning, twisted in the sheets, I know something happened in the middle of the night. It makes my robo-knee real angry when I do that.”
“That sounds awful.”
“Oh, you know. The cost of service or whatever. A broken body, no sleep, no sanity, and trying your damnedest to make sure no one else has to deal with your bullshit. I’m usually more successful at that last bit. Again, sorry.”
Jake, who is perhaps the most ethereal person I know, places his hands on his hips and fixes me with an angry glare, his sailor coming through despite the layers upon layers of diaphanous black fabric, leather belting, guy liner, and black-polished nails.
“First and foremost, if you apologize to me again tonight, I will take your cane and beat you with it. Second, what do you mean no one else has to deal with your bullshit? Is that why you’re breaking Odd’s heart? Why you spent this whole evening walking around like you’re under your very own black cloud? Because if that’s why you’re breaking his heart and yours, I may still beat you with your own cane.”
I stare at him, agape. I guess I’m not as subtle about my feelings for Odd as I think.
“He was and stillismy subordinate, so why does it even matter?” I ask, feeling off-balance and defensive.
“Because the places where you draw your lines confuse me. I mean, sure, back then he was a subordinate, but he wasn’tyoursubordinate, and you were both in no-name, barely constitutional black-ops organizations.”
I sometimes forget exactly how good a hacker Jake is. I don’t even know who the Viking twins worked with back then. Rumor is, Anders began his residency at eighteen, the same year Odd was defending his doctoral thesis. Who knows when black ops came knocking.
“I couldn’t do casual with him, and I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate if he were mine and I knew the specific type of danger he was in. My team depended on my judgment. And, well, you know what happens when my judgment is off.”
“Oh my god, your guilt bores me,” he says, rolling his eyes, one hundred percent laughing at me. “But seriously, why didn’t y’all ever get together after you came home?”
“Because he and Anders were still doing shadow work, and then they got recruited by Wimberley. He was in the wind.”
“Until he wasn’t,” Jake says, referring to the violent incident at the gym that put us back in contact with the brothers. “Ah. But then they became Guardians, and he was still your subordinate.”
“Yes.”
Jake raises his eyebrows, pinning me with a disbelieving look. “Yeah, you’re his unofficial,illegalcommanding officer. This is what I mean—it’s weird thatrelationshipis where you draw the line. It’s also weird that he’s never kicked your ass for that.”
“It’s possible that there are other factors at work. And I maintain that nobody should have to shoulder all of this shit just to be with me.”
He fiddles with the silver necklace he always wears, assessing me. “Let me tell you something, DB. You are not the only person who’s ever felt this way. Do you think I feel like I deserve that tall, beautiful drink of water out there?Hell no. Every day I have to make myself okay with the fact that that man is willing to love me despite everything. But you know what he would tell me? What hedoestell me on a daily basis?”
I shrug. “No clue.”
